“If I pay you, will you pretend to be my friend for a week?” The geeky boy asked me after school one day. His clothes lacked any style, nor was he popular. Paul was in good shape, so he had that going for him, but he was chronically shy. His face would turn several shades of red as he spoke to me. My parents entered me into beauty pageants when I was young, but I decided against pursuing them in high school. Considering the money he offered, my reputation in school would survive for a week. So I agreed.

“So that you know, we will NOT be having sex.” I clarified right away. His eyes went wide as if he had accidentally offended me. “No, I’m good,” he said. Despite his protests, I was still skeptical of his motivation.

The first day we hung out, I learned he was a volunteer for autistic and special needs at a high school in the neighboring county. I was out of my element and a little uncomfortable. Paul, bless him, was incredibly patient and helped me through my initial jitters. His shyness fell away, and he coached me on how to behave around them so no one became uncomfortable. By the end of the evening, a sweet young girl named Margaret declared me her bestest friend. If I’m being frank, her genuine affection left me speechless. Hanging out with him was fun, far more than I expected. Is there anything I can do for you? I asked at the end of the night. I wanted to help him some more.

“No, I’m good.” He whispered shyly.

The next night he told me he was going to the gym and it wouldn’t be a great time. However, the evening before left me a little curious, so I asked to join him for a workout. He agreed and gave me the address. It was a boxing gym. After arriving, I discovered he was an accomplished golden glove boxer and had been teaching youth for a year. It was the first time since the beginning of the week that Paul’s shyness returned tenfold. His friends teased him when they thought I wasn’t looking. I saw Paul was in fantastic shape, and the workout was a killer. Again, at the evening’s end, I offered to do something for him, perhaps to spread the word to my friends about his training. He looked at me with a shy smile, and I knew what he would say.

“No, I’m good.”

Paul’s shyness became less annoying and more endearing. My friends started to tease me about him, but I didn’t care. His shyness wasn’t the result of low self-esteem. He was confident, intelligent, and caring. However, when he was around me, he seemed to unravel. It wasn’t until the weekend that I learned why he wanted me to pretend to be his friend. He wanted me to attend a family function. Paul came from an extensive family and was the youngest of five children. His older siblings were all girls, pretty too. The family gathering must have had fifty people, who were all curious about Paul’s dating life. His oldest sister was by far the most protective, and once I had her approval, the rest fell in line. It wasn’t hard to appreciate his character. Because of school, I became a little sensitive about being grilled about my friendship with Paul. He behaved like a perfect gentleman all week, and he was surprised when I stepped behind him and wrapped my arm in his. My affection for him, I realized, became more than just an arrangement. As a result of one week with Paul, I felt I was a better person for it. The party ended, and he politely offered the agreed sum to be his friend for a week. My heart broke, thinking it would be the last time I could see him. The words came out of my mouth with absolutely no thought.

“No, I’m good.”