Page 132 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

“It’s not happening, sorry.”

She pouts. “Come on, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he tells her.

He wants Patricia to know everything. He looks at his phone, staring at the half-deleted message before he holds down the backspace button, watching as it slowly disappears.

Then he makes a decision.

“You know what?” Eli looks at Patricia. “Fuck it.”

She grins. “Milkshakes?”

* * *

Peter: Any chance you’re still awake?

Eli wishes he wasn’t. Between his stomach rolling from the milkshakes despite the Lactaid and the nerves of Peter’s date, he’s been stuck in bed, watching his phone slowly tick toward two in the morning.

Eli: unfortunately

Eli: what’s up?

Peter: Can I call you, actually?

Eli sits up straight, turning on his lamp. He stares at the message, weighing the options in his head.

Eli: yeah, of course

The call comes in a second later. Eli braces himself before he swipes to answer it.

“Sorry, it was a lot to explain over text.” Peter’s voice is calm, tired almost.

“It’s okay. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just . . . I thought you’d want to know about the date, and how it went.” He laughs low. “See what all your hard work accomplished.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

Silence.

“So?” Eli prompts.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were going to say something else.”

Eli can’t help his laughter. “No, no. I’m waiting on you.”

“Well . . . the date was . . . I mean, it was okay.”

Eli feels his stomach unclench. “Oh? Just okay?”

“Yeah, he was nice. Talked a lot. Too much, actually.” That explains why Peter is still up. “And you know me, I already don’t talk a lot.”

“No, no, you don’t.”

“But yeah . . . I don’t know, it was nice, but there wasn’t a . . . a spark, I guess is what the books would call it.”

“A spark,” Eli repeats.