Dear Jolene:

Nice job at the assembly. You’re well on your way to claiming Brendon as your boyfriend. Your next steps are simple:

 

Step One: Wednesday after school, Brendon will be practicing drums with his metal band. You are to send him the following text:

 

Boxers or Briefs?

 

Do not acknowledge his response.

 

Step Two: On Friday, before the pep rally, Brendon will most likely stop at his locker in C Hall. Walk by, catch his eye, and smile.

 

Note: This is not to be a timid smile. It is to be BOLD and BRILLIANT and shout: “I AM A CONFIDENT, BEAUTIFUL GIRL, AND ANY BOY IN THIS SCHOOL WOULD BE LUCKY TO DATE ME.”

 

Step Three: At the pep rally, sit somewhere within his sightline. Make no further contact until you receive my next set of instructions.

 

Sincerely,

The Boyfriend Whisperer

www.boyfriendwhispererenterprises.com

 

P.S. You ARE beautiful, and any boy at Grand View WOULD be lucky to date you. Don’t forget that!

 

 

“And finally, give it up for your defending state championship Grand View Patriots girls’ basketball teeeeeam!”

Principal Cho calls my teammates out one by one at the pep rally. He announces my name last, and I dribble across the court, through a tunnel made up of the cheer squad as well as both the boys’ and girls’ teams, and stop at the top of the key to throw Chris an alley-oop.

He sails toward the basket, his muscles rippling as he reaches out, snatches the ball out of the air, transfers it from one hand to the other, and stuffs it through the rim. Magnificent.

I remember the precise moment I fell in love with Christian Broder. It was this past October when a bunch of us decided to play a pick-up game at the courts down at Claymore Park. It was a warm day, and Chris took off his shirt. I vaguely wondered when he’d developed pecs. I tried to defend against him on a drive to the basket, but it seemed he’d gained six inches on me overnight. He swerved around, up, and past me, and … wham. His first dunk shot.

It was perhaps the most beautiful move I’d ever seen on a basketball court. Or anywhere. Ever. I could barely breathe. Had to fake a cramp in my leg and take myself out of the game. Now, watching him soar through the air again, I have that same gut reaction. I struggle to pull myself together as he runs up and gives me a high-five.

“Nice toss, Malloy.”

“Nice tip in, Broder.”

He laughs. “Yeah, right. Tip in. I hear you.” He drapes his arm across my shoulder. “I have a great feeling about this weekend.”

I nod, unable to form words, and the rest of the pep rally swirls by in a whirlwind of pompoms and victory chants.

Afterward, as I head toward the girls’ locker room trying to analyze whether Chris’s comment meant he had a good feeling about the tournament, the scouts, the Polar Plunge, or maybe—just maybe—us, Roland Briggs grabs my arm and pulls me to the edge of the hallway. “What was in that envelope?”

“Envelope?” I feign ignorance, but I know exactly what he’s talking about. Abi collects all the money from my clients and delivers their payments to me every Friday morning behind the school’s recycling station. No idea how Briggs saw us, unless he followed her.

“I saw Abi hand you an envelope this morning. What was in it?”

I shake my head and stall. “Dude, you need to let her go.”

“Did it have something to do with me? Or with another guy?”

“What? No. The world does not revolve around you, Briggsy. Nor, for that matter, other guys.” I want to say, “Abi’s world doesn’t revolve around you,” but decide that would be too cruel. He does love her, in his own immature way.

“Well then, what was it?”

“It was nothing.” I pull my arm loose and start walking. “Get a life, would you?”

He follows me. “Wait a minute. Of course.” He snaps his fingers. “It had something to do with the Boyfriend Whisperer, didn’t it?”

I say nothing, but I must look guilty because Briggs’s eyes light up. “No way.” A huge grin spreads across his face. “I don’t believe it. You’ve hired the Boyfriend Whisperer, haven’t you?”

I glance away. I’d rather him believe that than figure out the truth.

“Oh, man. Who ever would have thought? Lexi Malloy is in love.” Briggs dances around me. “Who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know?”

“Shut up. This isn’t about me. This is about you, stalking Abi. It’s not attractive, and it’s not going to win her back.” I pause at the locker room door. “Listen. If you want to get back together with her, you need to treat her like a princess. Take her to dinner, buy her flowers, post sweet pictures of the two of you on Instagram. She loves that stuff.”

Briggs raises his eyebrows. “How do you know? Are you and Abi suddenly best friends?”

“Let’s just say I observed her enough while you two were together to figure out the type. Take it from me. If you want to catch your own rebound, you need to put yourself in position.” As I open the door and step inside, I leave him with one thought: “Lucky for you, Valentine’s Day is coming up.”