The Truth About Faking (11 page)

“
Exactly!”

“
So we’re still fake dating?”

“
You bet. At least for a few more days. I mean, there’s no rush now that I know gifts are on the line.”

“
And what sort of gifts did you have in mind?”

“
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something sparkly…”

“
Sparkly, huh?” The breeze is ruffling his hair. He’s smiling at me, and it’s all very interesting.

I wrinkle my nose at him. “You know I’m kidding, right? No gifts. But you could’ve told me your big secret.”

“
It never came up.”

We’re at the end of the street, and I look back toward my house.

“
You should probably keep going,” I say. “I’ll turn around and head back.”

“
Harley,” Jason starts. His voice is gentle, and it’s the first time he’d used my actual name in days. My stomach tightens.

“
Yeah?” I brace myself. I’m afraid he might suggest we start dating for real, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with him.

I like our growing friendship, but Trent is my Mr. Right. Still, I’ve seen enough movies to know how this goes. If Jason wants to get more serious and I don’t, that’ll be the end of any kind of friendship between us. Or at the very least, it’ll make things super-awkward—not at all like they are now.

“
Please don’t tell anybody where I live,” he says.

“
What?” I start to breathe again and almost laugh. “I mean, why not?”

“
It’s just, people act different if they think you’ve got a lot of money,” he says. “And, well, I’d like them to get to know me for me first.”

It seems like there’s more to this story, something he isn’t telling me, but I let it go for now. “Sure. I mean, of course I won’t tell anybody if that’s what you want.”

“
Thanks,” he smiles, seeming relieved. “So you’ll let me know tomorrow, right?”

“
Tomorrow?”

“
How much longer we’re still together.”

“
Oh, right.”

He starts to walk away, and I turn back toward my house. I don’t even correct him about us just being fake together.

Seven

Not correcting Jason’s fake dating error is the first sign my brain is betraying me. The second is I’ve completely stopped thinking about what my real Mr. Right likes when deciding what to wear to school. The next day I don’t even consider the pictures in Trent’s locker as I stand staring into my closet. All I’m thinking about are the outfits Jason’s said looked pretty on me.

None of this is part of the plan! I’ve gotten completely off course. And in another five minutes he’ll be here to pick me up for school! I change outfits three more times and wish I’d thought to get up early so Mom could braid my hair in that headband style he’d said he liked. I hear his voice in the kitchen and grab my book bag before running down the hall. But when I reach the kitchen, I see Jason standing by the table talking to Ricky.

Ricky. The sight of him makes me pause mid-step. Mr. Home-wrecker, Abercrombie-model is standing there smiling and chatting like everything’s great and he hasn’t done anything inappropriate.

“
Hey, kiddo,” Ricky says, but his voice sounds a little off today. “You look nice.”

“
Thanks,” I mumble.

“
Yeah, you do,” Jason brightens, and I can’t help feeling a little bit better. “Ready?” he says.

I nod and follow him to the door. Just then my mom appears in the entrance to her office.

“
Harley? You didn’t say goodbye,” she says. Is she anxious, too?

 “
Sorry. Bye, Mom.”

She can tell something’s wrong, but she doesn’t say anything. Jason does, though, once we get to the monster mobile.

“
So that’s the guy?” he asks, holding my door.

“
Yep, that’s Ricky.”

“
I get where you’re coming from, but I gotta say. Your mom doesn’t seem that into him.” He closes the door and jogs around to get in on his side.

You didn’t see what I saw Saturday night
.

“
It’s more him that’s into her,” I explain once we’re moving. “Mom just says he’s a nice boy.”

“
He does seem really nice, but I wouldn’t let that bother me.”

“
Oh no?” I glance at him. He’s dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans again, and the wind’s pushing his hair around. It’s distractingly cute, and I look down at my hands, trying to refocus my brain back on Trent.

“
Nope. I’ve seen your parents together,” Jason continues. “Your mom looks at your dad like—”

“
Like he’s a chocolate-dipped strawberry?”

“
Yeah,” Jason smiles. “It’s weird. But in a super-nice way, I mean. Since they’re your parents and all.”

“
No, it’s weird. They’re the ultimate mismatch.”

“
Just on the outside. On the inside they really get each other. It’s cool.” Jason looks off for a second. “And I mean, sure your mom’s hot, but it’s not like your dad’s a hamster or anything. You look a lot like him.”

“
Wow. Is that a compliment?”

“
No, I mean… I think you look…” He’s suddenly embarrassed. “C’mon, Harley, you know how you look.”

In my mind, I’m still all braces and legs to my armpits, but I can tell from Jason’s expression that’s not what he sees. His eyes say I look very different, and the Gremlin suddenly feels both smaller and stuffier.

“
Isn’t there an A/C in this G-ride?” I complain loudly.

“
Well, I hate to break it to you—”

“
Jason! I might have to cut our fake dating period short if you can’t at least drive a car with air-conditioning. I know your secret now, and this is just mean.”

“
Mean?” he laughs.

“
Yes. You’re going to dump me in a few days, and then next thing I know you’ll be driving Shelly around in a Beemer.”

“
But she’ll be my
real
girlfriend.”

“
So! This is too much.”

We’re at school, and I’m actually thankful to be getting out of the car and away from my fake boyfriend. For a second there it got a little too close to being true. I look up and see Trent in the parking lot, and I hurry to catch up with him.

“
Hey, Trent,” I say, breathless.

“
Harley, hey!” He smiles and it all comes rushing back. Perfect teeth, kissing those lips. “Where’s Jason?”

“
Oh, he’s coming.” I wave my hand behind me. “We had a little argument, so I don’t know.”

“
Argument?” he glances over my shoulder. I look back as well and see Jason leaning against the Gremlin. I decide he’s seen me with Trent and is giving us a little space this time. Finally.

“
It was something silly, but I don’t know,” I sigh. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

It’s a stroke of genius, and it only took one dose of lavender to get me back on track. Trent doesn’t say anything, and we keep walking toward the classroom building. As always he’s dressed like a model in khaki pants and a polo shirt. It’s a definite plus the way he takes such obvious care with his appearance.

We’re at the first building, and Trent’s class is inside. He stops and we’re facing each other.
What to say?
I try to think…

“
You know, sometimes things do get serious too fast,” he says.

“
You think?” I smile, blinking up at him.

“
Yeah.” He smiles and looks down. Then he glances up and reaches forward to touch my cheek. Everything stops.

“
Look. An eyelash.” He holds it out to me. “Make a wish.”

I stare at the delicate brown hair on the tip of his finger as he waits for me to blow it away. But I can’t do it. My only wish has always been to kiss him, to be here like this with him, to have him touch my cheek. I don’t know why I’m hesitating.

We stand there a moment longer, but before I can recover, a soft breeze blows the lash away. He laughs once and shrugs. “Oh, well. Next time,” he says. “See ya, Harley.”

And with that, he turns and goes inside. My shoulders droop, and it takes all my effort not to collapse against the building. I can’t believe it. Shelly’s right. When confronted with a hot guy, the guy of my dreams, I completely flake out. I did exactly what I always do. I went all distracted and aloof. I look around, wondering what my mentor would say if she’d seen what I just did. Assertiveness
Fail!
Cycle Unbroken. As I walk to my first class, I touch my forehead, wondering if a giant, invisible
F
has been stamped there.

I don’t see Jason again until third period, and he doesn’t even look up when I walk into the room. I wonder if he’s mad at me on top of everything else. I made up the story I told Trent about us having an argument, but now that fake story feels real, too.

“
Hey,” I say softly as I sit in my chair.

He glances up but doesn’t smile. “So?”

“
So what?”

“
Making progress?”

I shrug and Mrs. Gipson enters the room to begin class. Jason turns his attention to our teacher, and I frown. Something’s different, but I can’t figure out what. He doesn’t look at me once during class, and I don’t hear a word Mrs. Gipson says. Could he possibly be mad about the Beemer comment? I was just kidding about that. Jason and I are always kidding with each other. Maybe I’m just being paranoid again.

But at lunch he continues his sudden withdrawal, and after ten minutes of salad chomping, I decide to get to the bottom of it.

“
Okay, spill.”

“
Huh?” Jason looks up.

“
What’s going on with you?”

“
I don’t get you, H.D.” He tries to smile.

“
You’re acting all distant and quiet and stuff. Did I do something to piss you off or something?”

“
Language. Please.” He tries to act offended. As if.

“
Jason. What happened?”

He stabs his lunch a few times and stares at the tray. Then he glances up at me with those big brown eyes. I’ve never seen this look on his face before—like he’s incredibly frustrated, but still hopeful. It causes a twinge in my middle, but I continue looking at him anyway, waiting for his answer.

“
I don’t know,” he finally says.

I exhale. “What?”

“
I mean, well, we were talking about your parents and all, and I was thinking about this… what we’re doing, I mean.” He pauses for a second and he seems the slightest bit nervous. “When we’re together, it’s like… it’s really cool. And when we talk—”

Oh, God! How can I be so stupid? I’ve walked right into it
.

“
You know what?” I interrupt him and jump up. He looks startled. “I just remembered I was supposed to get with Shelly. We’ve got cheerleading practice this afternoon, and she’ll have to give me a ride home.”

“
But I thought—” He’s completely bewildered.

“
See you tomorrow morning?” I smile as I back away. Now I’m the one who’s nervous.

“
Of course, but you haven’t finished your lunch.”

“
It’s okay,” I wave. “I’ve had enough.”

“
But Shelly’s not even—”

I turn away before he can finish his sentence and practically run. I only glance back once at Jason’s frowning face as I push through the cafeteria door.
Ugh!
I can feel it as I hurry to the library to hide. Then I run to the bathroom just in case he decides to follow me. I know exactly what he was about to say. We both know Shelly doesn’t have this lunch period, and I had to get out of there. Things are getting mixed up. Bad.

My heart’s pounding, and I need to get as far away from him as possible. But something’s wrong with me because the more I think about it, the more I want to go back and hear what he had to say. Hear the words that would ruin everything—a year’s worth of dreaming and a solid month of careful planning. I looked up at the ceiling.
Why couldn’t I have lunch or at least one class with Trent? It would really help, you know?

After school I hang out in the bathroom a good fifteen minutes after the last bell—until I’m sure everyone’s gone. I can easily walk home, but I don’t want to risk running into Jason. There’s no cheerleading practice this afternoon. Once football season ends, the squad pretty much goes on sabbatical until summer break and tryouts for next year. Sure, the basketball team still plays, but only half of us cover those games, and we alternate our schedules. I’m not on the schedule this week.

When I get home, Ricky’s packing up to leave, and I hear him talking to Mom as they plan out the rest of their appointments.

“
So the Denali’s back, but I kind of like our new arrangement,” Mom says. “Uses less gas, and I think some of the ladies prefer you anyway.”

Ricky laughs. “So that means I’m keeping Ms. Jackson?”

“
If you don’t mind.” Mom sounds like she’s concerned he might mind.

“
I can handle it,” he says, with a groan.

As I slip through the door, I wonder what that’s all about, but when I hear them moving my way, I continue scurrying quietly down the hall to my room. I don’t want to see Ricky with my mom today, and coming in like this would have them both asking a ton of questions I don’t feel like answering right now. Anyway, it’s none of Ricky’s business why I walked home instead of riding with Jason. He isn’t my dad.

“
And it’s easy to take her,” Ricky says. “Her house is on my way back to Glenville.”

“
Thanks.” I can hear the warmth in my mom’s voice. “All better today?”