The Heir's Pretend Girlfriend

25 ✮ Pancakes for the Growls

                “Carol! Carol!” A woman wearing a floppy hat beckoned another woman to the magazine stand where I was also standing at. She displayed the magazine in front of her short friend and-I kid you not-they both giggled and drooled together. “Isn’t this man delicious? Just look at him.”

                I lowered my magazine down from my face to snoop at this eye-candy of a man they were screaming over. It just had to be Channing Tatum. Or maybe even Chris Evans.

                Great, now I’m drooling.

                “Oh em gee! He is so-o-o-o cute!” The other friend, who the woman with the floppy hat called Carol, pulled the magazine away from her friend’s hands and stared at the cover dreamily. “Man, the things I would do to him.”

                “What’s his name?”

                “Um,” Her eyes squinted at the cover. “It says William Prescott.”

                I immediately choke on my gum and run over to where they were standing, completely forgetting about the last thing I read on my magazine. Something about Justin Bieber and his donuts or whatever.

                I instinctively pull the magazine away from their hands and glare at my boyfriend’s candid photo in front of a random building in New York City. He was definitely not paying attention, but dammit, he still looked so amazing.

My eyes scrolled up to the title which turned out to be Forbes’s Top 50 Richest and Hottest Men in the world. In big letters, below the title, were the words: The Heir of One of the Richest Companies in the World, William Prescott, has Been Taking Charge after His Father Was Reported Hospitalized.

                “I miss you.” I whispered to the magazine until I realized the two women in front of me were now looking at me like I belonged in an asylum. Even the people behind them were now staring at me strange or better yet, almost everyone at this small bookstore, was staring at me strange. Well, I did steal their magazine out of their hands … and just whispered to it right now.

                “Um, hi.” I neatly put the magazine back into one of the woman’s hands and laugh awkwardly. “Sorry about that, W-William Prescott is actually my boyfriend and ever since his father had been hospitalized, he had to take charge at the headquarters of Prescott Industries, which is at New York, and I haven’t seen him in a while and I-I miss him.” I laugh to try to ease the awkwardness, but the weird looks from their faces didn’t disappear.  

                The woman with the floppy hat finally spoke after a minute of my awkward laughing and staring. “So, you’re telling me that you’re dating”-She pointed at the magazine cover-“this hunk of a man?”  

                “Y-Yeah!” I confirm. “We actually go to the same school together. Atriele Academy.” I pointed at the school uniform I was wearing. Although, I wish I hadn’t, because they stared right at the mustard stain from the disaster I had at lunch today. Scott (who only sat with us when Will wasn’t at school. Go Figure.) couldn’t open a mustard packet because his hands were shivering from the rain and being the big girl, I thought I was, tried to show him that I could open it myself with no hesitation. Well, it ended up blowing up all over my clothes and of course, it had to be the day when Opaline didn’t have a pair of clothes in her locker.

“R-i-i-ght.” The “Carol” woman looked at the picture of William Prescott and then over at me. She snorted like she didn’t believe a word I said. “Yeah, okay sure.” She put the magazine back on the rack and looked over at her friend like it was time to leave this psycho.