The Truth About Faking (26 page)

I can tell by her tone she’s trying to diffuse our disagreement, but I’m not finished.

“
You could’ve told me,” I say. “You never tell me things.”

“
Oh, Harley,” she sighs. “It would’ve been unfair to burden you with all that. And I do tell you things.”

I hear Shelly’s horn beeping, and I give up this round. But her words aren’t true. She’s kept me at arm’s distance since Ricky arrived, and I feel like there’s a lot I still don’t know. We aren’t finished here, but I have to get to school.

Shelly’s pouty when I got in the car. I flop into the seat and pull my bag onto my lap wondering if she’s heard the news. I would think it’d be all over town by now, and I half expect her to be excited, ready for me to fill in all the details.

“
What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

She breathes loudly. “Jason.”

“
What about Jason?”

“
He cancelled our date Friday.” Shelly pokes her lip out and drives slowly. I try to think of something to say. Other than
Yay!
 

“
Did he say why?”

“
Just… he thinks things are moving too fast.”

“
Well,” I search for something reassuring. “At least you only went out a few times. It’s not like you were super serious, right?”

“
I guess,” she sighs. We’re at school, and Shelly’s slowly circling the parking lot. “Now what’ll I do Friday?”

Just then Reagan walks by with her little brother Aaron. As they pass, I think about how Aaron always used to hang around when we went to Reagan’s house as kids, and how he always made me laugh. He’s only a sophomore, but he’s got a fall birthday so he’s closer to our age. We’ve lost touch, and watching him, I try to decide if he’s gotten taller. Something’s changed. He seems more confident or something, and as we climb out of Shelly’s car, he looks back and smiles at her. My eyebrows go up, and I look at my friend. He’s no Jason, but that’s a great smile.

Shelly perks up. “Who’s that?”

“
Aaron? You remember. Reagan’s little brother?”

“
I thought he had braces.”

I do a double-take. “That’s what’s different! He must’ve got them off.” I remember that feeling—
freedom!
 

“
See ya later, Harley!” She skips ahead to catch up with Reagan and her newly transformed little brother.

“
Assertiveness, pass,” I quietly note as I follow them toward the building. “And that might be a record.”

Just then I hear someone hurrying to catch up with me and turn back. It’s Jason, and my heart does a flip.

“
Hey,” he says, slowing down to walk with me.

“
Hey,” I say, remembering to breathe.

“
So Ricky’s gay,” he says. “Wow.”

“
I know! I feel like, so blind.”

“
Well, I never expected it, but I know you’re glad it’s over.”

His eyes meet mine, and my knees go weak.

“
Yeah,” I say.

We walk a little further in silence. Now I feel so awkward, but I can’t be weird around Jason. I have to talk to him about everything. I look up and see Trent going into his building and wonder if Jason sees him, too.

“
So you’re really going out with him again?” Yep. Jason sees him too.

I shrug. “It’s not like a date or anything.”

He stops and catches my arm. “Then what is it?”

He’s frustrated, and that pain is in my chest again. I don’t know what to say, and standing here with him, I don’t want to be with anyone else ever. Not for any amount of time, like we agreed way back on that very first day at lunch.

“
It’s nothing,” I stammer. “I mean, it was so confusing. He said he needs to talk to me.”

“
About what?”

“
I don’t know. I was super-mad at him after all that stuff happened with Mom, but he apologized. Then he gave me this flower…”

Jason’s eyes narrow, and I can’t believe I just said that. Trent giving me a flower is like the worst thing I could say. It sounds like I still care about him, and I
so
don’t. At least not the way I care about Jason.

He turns and we start walking again. He doesn’t say a word, and I can’t think of a thing to say either. So much for no weirdness.

“
I’m not going out with Shelly anymore,” he finally says.

“
She told me.”

We walk a little further in silence. I see his jaw clench, then he finally speaks again. “OK, well, I gotta get to class.”

“
Wait.” I catch his arm. “It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“
Then don’t go.”

I hesitate. “But it seems really important to him.”

“
Then do what you want, Harley.” He shakes my hand off his arm and turns to leave. “Go out with him.”

“
Jason. Wait!”

But he doesn’t look at me again, and it hurts so bad to see him walk away. I hug my books tighter against my stomach. My reasons are all stupid and lame, and if I can’t explain to myself why I didn’t tell Trent no, why should I expect Jason to understand? He’s just understood so much. I guess I thought he would again. And I guess that’s my problem. Assertiveness fail.

Jason disappears around the corner, and when I blink down, two tears hit my cheeks.

From the start, my coffee
non-date
with Trent is like all our other actual dates. We meet up at the coffee shop, and he’s extremely polite as always. He apparently comes here a lot because he knows exactly what to order and even picks out a caramel macchiato for me that he says will make me camp out for the shop to open tomorrow.

“
I never knew you were such a coffee bean,” I say, as I sip the creamy drink. It really is delicious, and I just don’t even want to know how many calories are in it.

“
Good coffee is like good… um—”

“
Ultimate Frisbee?”

He laughs. “Better. And by the way, I really like that about you.”

“
What?”

“
You’re funny.” He looks down, then he looks at me more serious. “But more than that. You care about other people and helping them find a way to belong.”

I don’t know if that’s true, but okay. I glance around the shop. It’s very snug and full of yellow light. Several skinny-legged tables and chairs are arranged by the window in the front, and in the back are several large, velvety armchairs with smaller tables positioned around them.

It’s more a place where college kids hang out, as all our friends tend to go to the Shadow Freeze, the ice cream and burger joint a half-mile up the road. Trent orders a skinny latte for himself, which doesn’t seem fair since guys have much higher metabolisms than girls, and then he takes my arm. He escorts me to a plush, velvet couch in the back that has a long table in front of it. I sit on the couch, and he pulls up a stool to sit across from me.

“
This better?” he smiles.

“
It’s great,” I smile back at him. And not so long ago it would’ve been a dream come true, but now all I can think about is Jason.

He studies the menu, and I study his face. He really does have a sweet little mouth. It’s kind of shiny like he uses lip gloss or something. And as usual, he’s dressed just so. I like the shirt he’s wearing. Most guys don’t go for madras, but Trent looks very fashionable in it with his jeans.

“
You always dress really well,” I say.

“
Hey, thanks,” he smiles. “You too. I like the braids.”

I can’t believe he actually noticed for once. “Thanks.”

“
Your hair’s so shiny,” he says. “Do you use a special conditioner?”

“
No. Just whatever’s on sale.”

We’re quiet again, and a barista stops at our table. She asks if we want any biscotti or muffins, but I shake my head emphatically. Trent gets shortbread, and I watch as he breaks it into small pieces. I’m ready to get to the bottom of whatever he has to tell me, but first I excuse myself to go to the restroom.

As I walk back, I notice he’s texting again. He’s all happy like before, and whatever he’s reading must be super-funny because he’s almost snorting.

“
Hey,” I say.

He jumps and puts his phone away. “Hey.”

“
Who was that?” I ask. He’d better not start with all the secretive texting, or I’m taking off.

“
Oh… it’s just… I get this joke of the day thing. I hadn’t checked it today.”

“
Really.”

“
I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ll put it up.”

I remember running into Stephanie in the bathroom at school and her asking about us dating. I wonder if she’s the mysterious texter. If she’s been sending him messages all along. Whatever he claims, he looked really sad when they broke up, so it’s possible she’s trying to get back with him. Every few minutes I hear the whisper of his phone vibrating. He ignores it and tries to make small talk.

“
I’m glad all that stuff worked out with your mom,” he says.

“
Yeah,” I say, distracted by his humming phone.

“
And I really do feel bad my mom made all that trouble. It wasn’t cool.”

“
It’s not your fault, and you said she’d kind of put you through it.”

He nods, looking embarrassed. “Right. I forgot.”

“
You can’t help how your parents act.”

He looks at me, and for a split second it seems like he’s about to say something. Instead he takes a bite of shortbread. I sip my rich drink. Then he laughs and reaches across the table.

“
You’ve got foam.”

I jump and wipe my nose with one of the paper napkins on the table. “How embarrassing.”

“
Happens to the best of us!”

I smile and watch him dunk a piece of cookie in his latte. He puts it in his mouth and smiles back, raising his eyebrows. I study his perfect hair, his ideal fashion sense, his great taste. All at once, I have the strangest thought about my former-future-husband. What if Trent isn’t anybody’s former-future-husband? At least not in the way you’d expect.

I shake my head and look at my drink. The caramel clings to the edges of my cup, and I think of how he and Stephanie had always looked way intense. I remember them holding hands and leaning against her locker, her smiling up in his face, their noses almost touching. It was a sight that used to make me ache with longing.

Stephanie Miller would never spend that much time in a platonic relationship. At least, I don’t think she would. I take another sip and look back up at him. He’s finished the shortbread and almost his coffee, too. Then he glances up at me and smiles.

“
What?” he says.

I realize I’m staring and look down. “Back on Sunday you wanted to talk,” I say. “What about?”

He swirls his cup a few seconds then puts it down. “I wish we could go somewhere else first.”

I study my half-drunk beverage and decide I’m finished. “This was really good, but I feel full all of a sudden. Or I’ve had enough.”

His blue eyes move from my hand to my face, and then meet my eyes. Something is very open and vulnerable in his expression. He’s like a little boy who just saw something super-scary or something he really wants to do. I can’t tell which it is. Maybe both?

He reaches across the table and I take his hand. We walk out to our cars, and he says he’ll follow me to my house. I shrug and agree, and once we’re there, he meets me on our front steps.

“
Would you walk with me?” he asks. “This is a nice neighborhood for walking.”

I glance up the street at the quiet sidewalks and dim yellow streetlights. I’ve never really thought about it, but it’s true.

“
Sure,” I say. We start walking in the direction of the newer houses, in the direction of the creek. He never takes my hand, so I cross one arm over my waist as I look ahead. His phone buzzes again softly.

“
You think that’s something urgent?” I ask nodding toward his pocket.

“
Huh?” At least he pretends not to know what the strange sound is. “Oh… No. It’s just a friend.”

“
The same friend who was texting you at the movie?”

“
You saw that?”

“
Mm hm.”

We’re quiet again, walking, but I’m growing tired of this. “So is it a girlfriend?”

“
Huh?”

“
The texting?”

“
Oh, no. No,” he looks down. “It’s just this guy.” In the dim light I swear I see his face turn pink. “I mean… yeah,” he continues, like he’s just learning to speak English. “This guy. He’s always forwarding funny jokes and stuff.”

“
A guy?” I ask. “Is it somebody I know?”

“
Uh… no.” Trent seems nervous for the first time all night, and I feel that wave of something coming. The same something I felt in the coffee shop.

“
I like jokes,” I say, trying to ease the tension. “Read me one.”

“
Oh, well… it’s not something you’d get.”

“
Too dirty?” I smile.

“
No, it’s not that. It’s just inside stuff. You know.”

I don’t, but I don’t question him.

“
I thought maybe it was Stephanie.”

“
Stephanie? Why would she be texting me?”

“
Oh you know, because you guys dated and… well, she asked about you.”

“
What did she say?”

“
Nothing, really.” I try to remember what she did say. “She just asked if we were going out again. That’s all.”

He seems to relax at that. We’d turned while we were walking, and now we’re back at my house again standing by his car.

“
Harley,” he starts then stops. He reaches forward and lifts the door handle, holding it open for me. “Can I talk to you just a little bit more?”