The Girlfriend Request Read online




  Updating best friend to girlfriend is more than a change of status…

  Emma has been best friends with Eli since she moved to his neighborhood ten years ago. Tired of being cast in the role of the girl next door, Emma creates a fake Facebook profile in the hopes of starting an online friendship with Eli, which would hopefully lead to more. Like…way more. From friend request to In a Relationship—it all seemed so completely logical when she’d planned it.

  Eli can’t figure out what Emma is up to. He’s pretty sure she’s the one behind the Facebook profile, but then again, why would she do something so drastic instead of just admitting she wants to be more than friends? And who the heck is this new guy he saw her with? Eli starts to think that just maybe…he missed his chance with the girl next door.

  Two best friends, one outlandish ruse. Their status is about to become way more than It’s Complicated…

  This Entangled Teen Crush book contains one fake Facebook profile, two best friends who secretly crave each other, and a dreaded sex talk with parents…boy crush in the room included. Pushing a relationship beyond the friend zone has never been so crazy…

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more of Entangled Teen Crush’s books… Blackmail Boyfriend

  Finding Perfect

  Not Okay, Cupid

  Ten Things Sloane Hates About Tru

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Jodie Andrefski. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Crush is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Alethea Spiridon

  Cover design by Heather Howland

  Cover art from Deposit Photos

  ISBN 978-1-63375-541-3

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition January 2016

  For Hope Emma. Thank you for being the most amazing daughter in the world. Never doubt how beautiful, smart, and talented you are. May you one day find love in your best friend too. I love you more than you could ever know.

  Chapter One

  Emma

  He had 247 friends.

  Now to add one more to the list.

  I’d spent the last two weeks of my life carefully mapping out every piece of the plan. Forethought, strategy, research—it all came down to this very moment.

  “It’ll work. You can do this.” I chanted encouragement to myself as the mouse hovered over the photo of a smiling, perky-looking teenage girl. I tried to ignore the small beads of sweat forming at my hairline as I stared at the photo taunting me from the screen of my Dell.

  Shiny blond hair flowed over sun-kissed shoulders peeking out of a cutesy white sundress. Who the heck had hair like that unless she’s in a hot pink package and distributed by Mattel?

  His grinning face in an overlapping profile window caused my pulse to speed up. Like usual.

  A quick knock sounded on my bedroom door. I immediately tried to hit the minimize button while swiveling in my seat, just in time to see Dad poke his head in the room.

  “Hey, Emma! Your mom and I just got back. How’s the project coming along?”

  I gulped down my surprise to see him home so soon and casually shifted the laptop’s screen. “Ah…almost done.”

  About an hour ago I’d begged out of running to the store with my parents, using the excuse of having to finish a big project. I sort of left out the fact it wasn’t exactly for school like they’d assumed.

  “Do you need any help? I’m pretty good with those types of things if I do say so myself.” His wide smile showed pride, and he patted himself on the chest with firm thumps.

  “Nope, I’m good, but thanks anyway.” I smiled, hoping he’d get the hint and leave so I could finish.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He waved and disappeared down the hall.

  That was close. I’d die of embarrassment if either of my parents discovered what I was really up to.

  As I pulled the laptop back into position, a slight zing of anticipation thrummed through my fingers. I resumed my study of the screen, and nerves caused my stomach to host a swarm of angry moths, making me feel slightly ill.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit the “request friendship” button on Eli Perry’s profile.

  As soon as the page showed a pop-up happily declaring the request sent, the moths went into epileptic fits. What in the world was I thinking? He’d find out. I might as well stick a big “L” on my forehead right now.

  Somehow, he’d figure out that the perky Barbie lookalike who just sent him a friend request didn’t even exist. I’d made up the entire Facebook profile in the hopes of starting an online friendship with Eli, which would hopefully lead to more. Like…way more. As in going out, full-on girlfriend more. From friend request to girlfriend—it all seemed so completely logical when I’d planned it out over the past couple of weeks, although I was starting to question that logic right about now.

  My best friend Sarah thought I was nuts.

  Creating the fake profile had actually been easy. God bless the Internet. The mystery girl originated from the JC Penney website, a site I figured only soccer moms ever frequented. Pretty confident Eli didn’t spend much time shopping online in the JCP Juniors department, I’d felt safe swiping the photo from the section advertising the new summer clothing lines.

  Aside from a cheerleading bit I’d thrown in (I could barely even do a cartwheel), it pretty much listed things that were actually true about the real me—that would be the key to gaining his interest, and making the entire plan work. “Kelli” had to be someone who liked most of the same things he did. Like, well…like me.

  It made sense that presenting myself in a pretty, blond package instead of the ordinary one I saw in the mirror every day would be what it took to get Eli to finally notice me. Ya know, like an actual girl, complete with boobs and other
girl parts, despite the fact that some guys I’d seen at the beach had more up top than I did.

  Despite the motivational speeches, my stomach continued to clench like the time Carissa “accidentally” whipped a softball directly at my gut last year in gym class. Because if Eli did figure out that it was me behind the request, he’d know the secret I’d wanted to tell him for so long, and couldn’t. That I liked him. I mean, like-liked him.

  Out of habit, I smoothed my finger over a strip of photos stuck in the edge of my bulletin board. It came from one of those machines where you slip in a buck and get four small, grainy pictures fed out from the slot a few minutes later. Eli and I had scrunched together in the tiny booth, making dorky faces at the screen for three of them. On the fourth, I’d rested my head on his shoulder while he leaned against mine. His smile was content, happy. It was my favorite of the four.

  I sighed, remembering the first time I saw Eli like it was yesterday. I’d been six years old and brand new to the neighborhood. He’d shuffled over, shaggy dark hair poking out from beneath the brim of his dusty Phillies baseball cap.

  I’d been moping, sitting on the curb watching my parents unload box after large brown box from the giant moving truck and carrying them into our new colonial style white house. I hadn’t cared a bit about the large yard, the good schools, or the pretty burgundy shutters my mom kept going on and on about. All I knew was that I didn’t belong in the stupid town.

  Then this strange boy reached his hand out toward me, slightly dirty fingers clutching a large yellow box of candy. “Want a Gobstopper?”

  At the sound of his voice, I’d turned my head and looked up. The sun behind him made a bright halo around his grinning face, but what I remembered most about the first time I saw Eli was his eyes. They made me stare, because they weren’t just one color like all the other people I’d ever known. His were green and blue and gold all swirled together, like when I made sand-art.

  He waited patiently, arm outstretched, while I made up my mind. I finally nodded, whispering “Thank you,” and held out my own small hand. His infectious grin grew even wider, showing off a dimple in his right cheek. He plopped down on the rounded curb next to me and shook the box, spilling several of the jawbreakers into his palm. Rooting until he found the one he was looking for, his body twisted toward me as he held out the round, cherry-colored candy like a gift. Leaning in a little closer, he whispered a bit shyly, “You can even have a red one. They’re the best.”

  And that’s when it happened. That was the moment I’d begun to fall for my new next-door neighbor. From that day on, we were practically inseparable, and we only grew closer through the years. He held my hand as we waited for the bus on my first day in a new school that fall, and unknowingly held my heart for each of the ten years since that hot, summer day.

  But now I had a way to make Eli finally look at me as something other than his buddy, a plan to make him fall completely in love with me. Kelli’s picture and my personality and words. When the time was right, I’d simply reveal the real person behind the profile, and we’d both laugh about it, and be so happy I was clever enough to bring us together. At least that’s how I really, really hoped it would go down. I refused to consider any other outcome.

  Chapter Two

  Emma

  A buzz from the side pocket of my shorts distracted me from worrying about exactly which level of stupidity I’d advanced to thanks to my latest action. I immediately panicked when I saw the name and avatar displayed on the screen of my phone.

  Why was he calling? Sundays were always the same. We’d meet at Valenti’s later to grab some pizza, and then head back here for our long-standing Sunday movie night.

  My temples throbbed. He must have been online, seen the friend request, and somehow knew I’d sent it. The gotta-puke feeling returned.

  The buzzing stopped for about ten seconds, only to start right back up again. He wasn’t giving up.

  Licking my dry lips, I stabbed the answer button and offered a way-too-cheery, “Hey, you! What’s up?”

  Deafening silence from the other end of the line.

  “Eli? You there? You couldn’t wait until tonight to hear my voice, right?”

  A massive sucking in of breath whipped through space before his voice exploded into my right ear. “What the heck, Emma?”

  Before I could say anything, he rushed on.

  “Seriously? I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

  Crap, he did know. “I, uh, I just…”

  My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, reminding me of the time I’d almost gagged shoving in a handful of salt-water taffy.

  “You promised.” His voice burned hot with accusation.

  “I know. I just…” Now wait, what? What promise? I never promised not to create a fake Facebook account.

  It hit like a slap to the face. “Omigod, I was supposed to feed Vader this weekend while you were gone,” I whispered. Tilting my head back, I closed my eyes and slumped down in my desk chair.

  The screaming silence returned. It didn’t matter—the hurt accusations still managed to fly through the phone lines loud and clear. Any NSA guys listening in were probably shaking their heads at my monumental screw-up.

  “I’m so sorry. I have no idea how I could have forgotten.”

  Because you were too busy plotting a fake online profile to try to pull one-over on your best friend in the world.

  Dead air. He wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily.

  “Please, Eli, I’m really sorry.”

  Remembering that his parents had also been away on a business trip made me afraid to ask the next question. “Is he…is he okay?”

  A grunt in response made me feel slightly better. Not much, but some. I was the worst friend in the world.

  “Yeah, he’s fine, although I can’t say the same for the house. He managed to get in the pantry where I keep his dog food, rip the bag open, and eat it all. Along with half of the bag itself.” He paused. “And after that, it looks like he decided to throw half of it back up all over the place downstairs. That doesn’t even take into account that he made the mud room his personal litterbox.”

  I winced. Definitely not good. Shoving my free hand through my bangs, I slowly let out a long breath. This really wasn’t a good start to my grand plan of winning his heart forever and ever.

  “I really am sorry.”

  “I know.” Another grunt. “I just don’t get it, Em. I mean, you’re the one that offered to do it in the first place when I told you about my trip. I could have boarded him, but you insisted you wanted to do it.” Anger finally leaving his voice, he continued on quieter, with concern. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

  Here I almost starved his childhood pet, and he wanted to make sure that I was okay. I was going to burn in hell, no doubt about it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did that bitch on wheels do something at school Friday when I wasn’t there?”

  He didn’t even have to say her name. I knew exactly who he meant. Carissa Kevans, the bane of my high school existence. For whatever reason, she’d made it her mission to embarrass, humiliate, or otherwise antagonize me in every way known to man. We liked to call her Carissa DeVille.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Standing up, I rotated my shoulders while walking over to my bed to ease down onto its welcome softness. It felt wonderful after sitting in the hard desk chair for close to an hour.

  “Look, I can tell something’s going on. I can hear it in your voice, plus you’ve been acting kind of weird for like a week now.” He pressed. “I thought you could tell me anything.”

  Yeah, except for the tiny little fact that I’m in love with you.

  “Em?”

  ”It’s nothing, I’m fine. So tell me about your weekend.”

  He sighed, but began to tell me stories about the other players and coaches, how they ran him ragged, how the food stank, but he still loved it anyway.

  I smiled as I
listened, allowing his voice to wash over me. While he talked, I stared across the room toward my bookcase. Mom and Dad had bought it for me a couple of years ago when I started high school and redid my room.

  On the top shelf of honor sat several black-framed photographs of Eli and me together through the years. Red-cheeked in bright suspendered snowsuits, dragging a toboggan between us when we were about eight, covered in mud after a particularly messy homemade obstacle race at eleven or so. My favorite was the one where I sat on a swing, head tilted back in laughter. Eli held the swing’s chains, looking down at me with his incredible grin, eyes shining. We’d taken it just last summer in the back yard.

  “It sounds like you had a great time,” I said when he finished.

  “Yeah, it was pretty amazing.” His voice lowered. “So you really aren’t going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I rubbed my eyes as I tried to think what to say. I obviously couldn’t tell him the truth about what had been preoccupying my mind lately, so I wimped out.

  “Thanks, but honestly, everything’s fine. It’s probably the stress of SATs and finals coming up.”

  I could almost see him flop down in the obnoxious Eagles bean-bag chair in his room, Converse clad feet dangling over the side, probably tapping his fingers against his perfectly muscled leg like he so often did without realizing it. The thought made me swallow.

  “So, are we still on for tonight?” I asked.

  “Yep. I just have to finish cleaning up here, then get caught up on some email and we can head out. Do you want me to pick you up when I’m done or just meet there?”

  “Let’s meet.” I glanced at my clock. “We’re getting ready to head out any minute. I’ll text you when I can make an escape.”

  “That works. Oh! And after this weekend, I get complete decision-making authority for tonight’s movie selection.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair enough. See you in a couple hours.”

  “Later!” And he was gone.

  Bringing my hand up toward my chest, I laid the phone against my heart, wishing it could magically communicate all the things I was too chicken to say. I closed my eyes, imagining how different life would be once my plan worked and we were a real couple.