The Truth About Faking

by Leigh Talbert Moore

  “So you’d stay up for something different?” His smile’s back, and for a moment I glance at his lips and wonder…

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Well, you’re right, that was a pretty lame dare. And it’s my last.” He sits back on his heels again. “New one.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Kiss me.” His eyes lock on mine and hold them. My heart jumps, and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

  “What?” I say, but my voice sounds funny to me. Too high or something.

  He gets on his knees in front of me and leans in so our faces are very close. “Kiss me,” he whispers. My stomach does a flip.

  “No,” I say quietly.

  “Dammit, Harley!” He throws up his hands and leans back. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t kiss you.” I look down. I’m having a hard time breathing.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we were just talking about first times, and all that other stuff. It sounds like…”

  “Like what?” His voice is soft, and he moves toward me again. That tingly warmth is in my stomach.

  I push back and stand up fast. Then I suddenly feel like I might fall down. I look and see my second bottle’s empty.

  “Take me home,” I say, reaching out to hold the tree. My head’s spinning.

  “Home?” He stands up beside me.

  “Jason, take me home,” I feel like I have my balance again and start walking toward the car.

  “Slow down, Weavy.” He trots down and takes my arm. “I’ll take you home.”

  But when we get to the car, he turns me to face him and pulls me close.

  “Just kiss me first,” he says softly.

  I push back. “I said no.”

  “I don’t mean it as a dare,” he says. “I mean it because I want you to.”

  I look up at his brown eyes. My heart feels like a little hummingbird caught in my chest. I can’t kiss Jason. I’m hoping to be kissing Trent tomorrow night.

  “No,” I breathe, looking down and gently pushing him again. “Let me go.”

  He sighs and lets me go. I open the car door and get in, pulling my knees up to my chest. Jason goes around and climbs in on his side. He doesn’t speak as he drives me back to my house. When the car stops, I reach for the door handle to get out, and in silence I walk to my front door. I’ve just gotten there when I feel him behind me.

  “Wait,” he whispers.

  I turn around. “What?”

  “Don’t go yet,” he pulls me back into his arms.

  My hands are resting on his chest, and I’m looking at them. My heart is beating so fast. I really do want to kiss him, but I’m supposed to be kissing Trent, not Jason. What’s wrong with me?

  It doesn’t matter. He leans forward and gently presses his lips to mine. I quickly slide my hands around his neck, and he pushes my mouth open with his. He tastes sweet like the fruity wine we’ve been drinking, and when our tongues met, electricity races to my toes. A soft noise comes from my throat, and he pulls me closer. My fingers clutch the soft fabric of his shirt, and his arms are tight around my waist. But through the haze I remember this is not supposed to happen. We aren’t together anymore, and I’m supposed to be doing this with Trent tomorrow night. I step back out of his arms and turn toward the door, trying to control my breathing.

  “Wait,” Jason whispers, catching my hand. I stop. “Don’t go out with him,” he says.

  I look back. “Jason—”

  “I’m serious,” he says. “I don’t want you to go out with him.”

  His words send a pain through my chest, and my head feels dizzy. I don’t know what to say. Trent’s been my dream for so long, I don’t know how to let him go. I don’t want to. I can’t. I have to keep my date tomorrow night.

  “It’s too late,” I say. “I already told him I would. I mean, I practically asked him out.”

  “You did ask him out,” Jason says, stepping closer again. His hands are on my waist, and I can feel his breath on my cheek close to my ear. “Call him and cancel.”

  His lips are so close, I can almost kiss him again. Instead I put my hand on his chest and gently push him back.

  “I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Sure you can,” Jason smiles. He reaches up to take my hand from his chest.

  “Jason,” I sigh, trying to pull it away. But he doesn’t let go.

  “Harley.”

  “I’m tired. And my head feels… funny. I’m going to bed.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says. Then he lifts my hand and kisses it. I watch his soft lips touch my fingers, and I struggle with the urge to pull us together again.

  “I’m going out with Trent.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I look down and nod slightly. Then I go inside and close the door. I feel like crying, but I don’t know why. I go to my room and lay on my bed. I can still feel Jason’s lips on mine and the sparkling electricity they caused. I can still feel his lips touching my fingers, and I pull my hand to my cheek. It’s wonderful… But I’m supposed to be with Trent, and these feelings I’m having right now are supposed to be saved for him. This thing that’s going on with Jason is not supposed to be happening, and I have to stop it.

  Ten

  But I can’t stop Jason. The phone’s ringing when I lift my face off my pillow and look at the clock. It’s 9 a.m. and my head’s throbbing. I’m still in my cheerleading uniform. Gross. I reach around to silence my super-loud phone.

  “Morning, sunshine.” It’s him.

  “Ooh,” I moan.

  “What’s wrong? Is it the head?” I can hear him smile.

  “Why did you do that to me?”

  “Do what?”

  “Shh! You’re talking too loud,” I say, covering my eyes. “And why is it so bright in here?”

  Jason laughs. “I think somebody’s a little hung over.”

  “It’s your fault.” I roll over and pull my pillow over my head. “You’re a very bad influence.”

  “I’m coming to pick you up. Get dressed.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Yes you are, and I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Jason…” The line’s dead. I put the phone down and look at the clock. There’s no way I’m going anywhere in an hour. I can’t move. I close my eyes again.

  Next thing I know, someone’s sitting on my bed. I look up, and Jason’s in my room.

  “What are you doing in here?” I say, jumping out of the bed. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Don’t know,” he grins. “Front door was open, so I came in.”

  “Jason…”

  “Hm.” He looks me up and down and frowns.

  “What?” I frown back.

  “Still in your uniform?”

  I look down at my outfit. “Look, I’m tired. My head hurts, and I really want to go back to sleep.” I move to lie down again, but he jumps up and catches me.

  “Nope. I’m taking you to breakfast.” He pulls me back toward the door. “Hit the showers, party girl.”

  I stagger across the hall as Jason goes back to the kitchen. Once in the bathroom, I remove my uniform and turn on the shower. It’s warm, and for a while I stand under the stream with my eyes closed. Finally, after a few more minutes, I start the process. Bathe, wash hair, wash face. At last all the remnants of last night are gone. Well, all except one. And he’s waiting out in the kitchen for me to change.

  I step out of the shower and towel-dry my hair. That’ll have to do. I slip across the hall to my bedroom where I grab some old jeans and a t-shirt, but when I go into the kitchen, Jason’s nowhere to be found.

  “Hello?” I call. “Where are you?”

  “Oh, hey,” he pokes his head in from Mom’s office.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  “Just checking out your mom’s voodoo.”

  “It’s not voodoo,” I say. “It’s herbal medicine.”
>
  “I know,” he laughs. “I was just thinking about that woman.”

  “Ms. Perkins,” I mutter as I walk into the room. I wonder if Mom might have any herbal cures for a hangover. Not that I could ask her, of course.

  “You ready?” he asks, checking me out.

  “Mm-hm.” My head’s still hurting, and my eyes aren’t completely open yet. Jason takes my hand and leads me out to the Passat. We climb inside, and I pull on dark sunglasses and lean back in the seat.

  “Ihop? Waffle House? Denny’s?” He calls out the names like he’s reading a list.

  “What?”

  “Where do you want to eat?”

  “You haven’t already decided?”

  “Lady’s choice.” He grins at me.

  “Jeez, Jason,” I groan, turning on my side in the seat. “Why do you do these things?”

  “What things?”

  “You get all these bright ideas and make me think you’ve got some plan, and when it comes down to it, you’re really just tossing stuff off. Just off the top of your head like that.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” He’s still smiling.

  I’m quiet for a minute. My head’s too thick to argue with him.

  “Denny’s is fine,” I say. “Moons over My Hammy.”

  He laughs. “You do know your breakfast diners!”

  “Just Denny’s. Dad went through a phase when I was little.”

  “Denny’s it is.”

  I’m starting to come around after the third coffee. The eggs and bacon on my pancake are arranged like a face smiling at me. I do not smile back.

  “And I thought you were getting the moons,” he jokes.

  “Where was my mom?” I ask.

  “Huh?”

  “When you got to the house this morning. Where was everybody?”

  “Don’t know,” he shrugs. “Front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I didn’t see anybody but you.”

  “That’s weird.” I try to remember if Mom told me she had something today, but it’s hard. Yesterday’s so foggy. Well, except for the kissing Jason part. I glance up at him and feel a little shy.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I say.

  “Wait. I wanted to talk to you.” He reaches for my hand.

  Our conversation from last night’s also on my mind, and I still don’t feel like arguing with him.

  “About what?”

  “Tonight,” he says, sliding his fingers through mine. Even that small movement sends a fizzy wave through me.

  “Jason,” I protest, but I can’t bring myself to pull back.

  “Just listen.” I glance up at him, and his expression makes my chest feel tight. “I know we got off to a… well, a strange start. But I really like you.”

  “Jason—”

  “Just hang on.” He pauses a moment. “I really like you. And I think you really like me, too.”

  I can’t answer. I do like him, but he has to understand. I have a dream. “That’s really beside the point right now.”

  “How?” His eyebrows pull together. Another pain.

  I look back at our hands, fingers laced on the table, and try to be firm, to reason with us both.

  “You showed up here two weeks ago, and hit me with your car.” I pause, considering my words. “And now you just expect me to drop everything I was doing and pick up with you.”

  “But you want to,” he says softly.

  “I’m not like that, Jason,” I say, thinking of Shelly. Somehow the thought of her and her mom strengthens my resolve. “Maybe there is something between us, but there’s also something between me and Trent. Something important to me.”

  I pull my hand back and look at him. “And I want you to stop trying to mess that up.”

  He stares at me, but I steel myself. If this thing with Jason is real, one date with Trent won’t change it. And it’ll help me be sure about my feelings.

  He looks down. Then he takes out his wallet and drops some cash on the table.

  “Come on then,” he says taking my hand again. “Let me get you home.”

  I slip my hand away as I follow him back to the car. It’s hard, but I know I’m right. This is something I have to do. I’m not boy-crazy. I’m deliberate and thoughtful. And I plan things out. Not counting last night.

  We drive the rest of the way in silence, and when we get to my house, I open my own door before Jason has a chance to get out.

  But before I close it, he stops me. “Harley?”

  I lean down to look at him. He smiles back, and I almost decide to forget the whole Trent thing and give in. But I don’t.

  “What?” I ask.

  He starts to say something, but then he seems to change his mind. “We can talk later,” he says.

  I nod and close the door.

  Inside, I go straight to my room and close the door. Images of me with Jason are pressing on my mind, but I sit on my bed and try to refocus, to get my head back in the game. Today’s the day I’ve been waiting for. I’m finally going out with Trent. I need to think about that. Be more excited about it.

  Suddenly, I have an idea. I pull out my old list and read over it again. Then I take out a new sheet of paper and start to write:

  “Traits of Mr. Wrong (a.k.a., My NOT-Ideal Husband)”

  1. He crashes into me with his car.

  2. He wrecks my personal life.

  3. He’s a bad influence.

  4. He listens to me when I talk.

  5. He refuses to give up…

  …

  I stop and sigh. Then I wad up the paper and lie back on my bed. Dad always says you should pray when confronted with a difficult decision. This seems kind of minor for praying, but maybe it isn’t. I close my eyes, but I’m only able to think God, I’m so confused… before I fall asleep.

  I open my eyes again and it’s after four. The house is still quiet, and when I sit up, the piece of paper’s still a ball in my hand. I walk to the kitchen and throw it in the trash. Where the heck is Mom? My head was so fuzzy before breakfast, I didn’t feel like investigating, but now I’m starting to come around. I walk through the house looking for signs of anything. Then when I get back to the kitchen, I see her note. Meeting with Ricky, back soon.

  Hmm. She never meets with Ricky on Saturday. I remember last night at the game and her strange comment about the client problem. I’ve been so preoccupied with Jason and Trent, I actually forgot to worry about her. Now I’m not sure what to think.

  My phone goes off, and I answer it before I even look to see who’s calling.

  “Isn’t it great to be in love?” Shelly gushes.

  “Oh, hey, Shel.” I’m not really in the mood for her right now. “I thought we didn’t talk on the phone anymore.”

  “Don’t be a pest. Are you going to ask me about last night?”

  “Huh?”

  “My date with Jason? Are you going to ask?”

  I’d actually forgotten about that part, too. “Oh, right. How was your date with Jason?”

  “Amazing!”

  “Really?”

  “He is so super hot,” she says. “I’ve got to go out with him again tonight. We almost kissed.”

  “You did?” I try to sound impressed, but this is so far past awkward.

  “What if we all catch a movie or something?”

  “Oh!” My stomach does a clench. “No.”

  “What?”

  “I mean…” I’m panicking but trying to stay cool. “I mean, what a buzz-kill. We’d all be out with our recent exes.”

  “Hmm, I guess you’re right. I was just strategizing. So you excited about finally going out with the love of your life?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, not really listening.

  “What?”

  “What? I mean yes! No, I can’t wait.”

  “You’re being weird, but I want all the details. Got it?”

  “Yes. Details.”

  She hangs up and now I really think I’m going to vomit. I am not the
kind of person who sneaks out in the middle of the night with my best friend’s date. And Shelly would flip out if she knew what I was doing last night—drinking wine and kissing Jason. A little charge of excitement hits me at the thought. As if I needed more proof! Jason is clearly a bad influence. And now I’m supposed to go out with Trent and be able to judge my feelings for him. But I don’t have to judge my feelings—I know my feelings for Trent, right? Nothing’s changed!

  This is not happening.

  Only it is happening. Trent texts me to say he’ll pick me up at 6:45, and I’m still fussing with my hair. I look in the mirror, and of course! A zit’s popping out on my chin. Perfect. I dash across to Mom’s bathroom for concealer when she finally appears looking distracted. I don’t have time, but I ask her if anything’s wrong. She dismisses me with a wave and some comment about client business—her way of saying she doesn’t want to talk about it—and I let it go. Dad’s visiting at the nursing home in Glennville, so I’m left to myself, and by the time 6:45 rolls around, I’ve almost decided to call the whole thing off. But I don’t, and Trent’s very punctual.

  “Hey, Harley,” he smiles as I hold the front door open. Mom appears in the living room as usual to inspect my date, but I can’t see a thing objectionable in the quiet boy standing in front of me in his khakis and short-sleeved polo. Trent’s hair is done in his neat, short, almost-retro style that goes up on top. Nothing like Jason’s long, floppy brown shag.

  “Hey, Trent,” I smile back. We’re quiet a moment, then Mom walks up.

  “Hi, Mrs. Andrews,” Trent smiles, extending his hand.

  She shakes it and then glances at the two of us. “Be home at 11,” is all she says.

  I follow Trent out to his mom’s car. It’s a nice, reliable, air-conditioned Accord. Music is playing softly as we drive, and it sounds like something my dad would play. I decide Trent must not be that into music. But that’s okay, I reason. He can have other interests.

  “I was thinking maybe we could catch a movie?” he says.

  “Sure. What do you want to see?” I focus on leaving all that other stuff behind and enjoying on our date. My dream date with Trent. Yay!

  “Whatever you’d like,” he says, smiling.

  We’re quiet again, and the music switches to some new adult contemporary song. I wish I could change it, but somehow that seems pushy. I glance over at Trent again. His skin tone is really even, and when he notices me looking he smiles, uncovering those perfect teeth and crinkling those pretty blue eyes.