“Like you brought Trent?”
“What?”
“Yeah, I saw you out here with him.”
I glance away, remembering Ricky’s car parked in front of my house last Saturday.
“I didn’t really want to go back to my house that night,” I say. “But it wasn’t like… I don’t know.”
“No Truth or Dare?”
I shake my head no, and we’re quiet. My thoughts are on that night, being here with him.
“I saw your bike and slowed down. Next thing I know, Shelly’s jumping out of the car.”
“I almost saw you na-ked,” I sing-song.
“I’dve kept my shorts on,” he says. “So what are you doing out here?”
“Nothing.”
“That how your hair got wet?” he lifts one of my damp locks and then lets it fall back.
“You gave me the idea.” I look back at the water. We’re quiet again, listening to the soft sound of the currents trickling by.
“I had this dream that I was swimming in the creek and something pulled me under.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this.
“And that made you want to get in it?”
“No. I just… I wanted to get away from everything, and it seemed like a good way to relax.”
I feel his arm tighten around my shoulders, and I lean forward and put my other arm around his waist. He kisses the top of my head and I look up. I want a real kiss, and I get one, too. Electric and tingly, his lips gently push mine apart, and I catch a faint taste of mint as his tongue touches mine. A warm pulse pushes through me with each heartbeat, and I drop my head against his shoulder to catch my breath. Jason’s kisses are the best. We’re quiet a moment, and I listen to him breathing and the water flowing past.
“So what did Shelly think about you living out here?” I ask, resting my chin on his shoulder and watching the water flow past.
“It hasn’t come up.”
I sit back to study his face. I have to get to the bottom of this mystery. “What’s the deal?”
He takes his arm from around me and starts picking at his palm. “I told you,” he says, looking at his hand. “I don’t want people thinking I’m just some arrogant rich kid.”
I slide my hand over his. “Why do you just assume that’s what they’ll think?”
He looks at the creek and doesn’t answer. Very unusual for Jason.
“Tell me.” I lace our fingers and notice him grasp my hand in return. “Was it a girl?” I’m actually not sure I want to know that.
He looks back and our eyes meet. Then he smiles. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
“Is that good or bad?”
He laughs softly and looks down again. “It’s very good.”
Warmth fills my middle, and I squeeze his hand. He squeezes mine back, and I smile.
“But you still haven’t told me. Why all the secrecy?”
“Harley,” he groans.
“What?”
He glances at me a second, then he exhales. “Back home, it was like… Dad makes good money, right? So I got pushed into this group, and it was all about the money and the status. They didn’t care about me.” He pauses a moment. “Then the other kids, the ones who didn’t have as much, acted like I was too good for them or something. But I never changed. It was messed up.”
I think about how friendly and outgoing he is. “That must’ve been hard for you,” I say.
“It sucked. I just wanted to have fun. Like I do with you. And then when Mom died… I didn’t belong anywhere.”
I look down, biting my lip. Now I feel like a jerk.
“I care about that stuff, too,” I say softly. “At least the car part.”
He laughs and tugs my hair. “You mean the Gremlin?”
“But it’s just part of the act, right? To throw people off?” I smile, hoping his confession means the monster mobile is gone for good.
“No way! Those classic cars are the best.”
I frown, watching him get all excited.
“You can feel the road so much better, and the engines are way more powerful. Not so much technological interference.”
“You’re a car geek.”
He shrugs and looks down. “I don’t know.” Then he glances at me. “Does this mean you’re gonna stop pushing me away now?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I had a plan, you know. I was working on something else long before you showed up.”
He slides the same piece of hair away from my cheek. “I know.”
“And loyalty is very important to me.”
“Mm-hm,” he nods. “Just so long as ‘loyalty’ isn’t another way of saying ‘fear of something new.’”
“New isn’t always better,” I mutter.
“Sometimes it is,” he says softly.
I smile and start to get up.
“Where’re you going?”
“Home. It’s late.”
I start walking to my bike lying near the street, and he catches up to me, taking my hand, and lacing our fingers. It feels so good.
“Want to do something tomorrow?” he asks.
“What about Shelly?”
“What about Trent?”
I shake my head. “It’s not happening. I think he’s got some other girl. He kept getting these texts that made him all… happy.”
Jason chuckles.
“What?” I stop and turn to him.
“Nothing,” he says.
Then he pulls me to him. I look up and when our eyes meet, he leans down and kisses me again. His lips are warm against mine, and I slide my hand up to touch his soft brown hair. Kissing Jason makes everything else just go away.
I take a step back to my bike. “I gotta go.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Twelve
But everything goes wrong on Saturday. I get up and Mom’s left another note that says she’s meeting Ricky. She writes that it’s about a client again, but when my dad sees it, I can tell he’s annoyed. Mostly by the way he crumples it up into a tight little ball and stares out the window with his lips pressed into a line.
Then he leaves the house without a word, and I imagine what he might do. Maybe he’ll go find her. Maybe he’ll walk right up and punch Ricky in the nose. No, I shake my head. I can’t really see Reverend Dad, King of the Nerds, doing something like that. I wish he would, though. I mean, sort of. Okay, I don’t really want him to hurt Ricky, I just want Ricky to stop trying to steal my mom.
Jason calls, but I let it go to voicemail. I’m too worried and uneasy to talk to him right now, and I don’t want him here if there’s going to be a showdown between my parents over Ricky. Instead, I pace the house. I go and sit on the couch and try to find something on television. No luck. I go outside and poke around in the flower beds. But I never know what’s a weed and what’s one of Mom’s herbs, so I decide against gardening. I go back inside and lay on my bed, playing with my phone. I add some hairstyles and fashions to my pin boards, then I skip over to check my email. I mostly text everyone, so there’s nothing but spam in my inbox. I play Feisty Hamsters a while. Finally, I hear my dad come back.
I go to my door and open it a crack. He walks in and goes straight to his study, so I creep out of my room and go over to his door and softly tap.
“Yes?” he looks up from his desk. I see he’s reading that Issues book again.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, Harley.” He looks back down, and it seems like he doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t know what to say, but I try anyway.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I had to run up to the church. Some people wanted to see… me.”
I nod and continue standing there, unsure what to say.
Dad lowers his book and looks up at me. “Do you need something, honey?”
I bite my lip and think about it. Then I say, “I wanted to talk to Mom about something.” It’s not exactly true, but I have to know what’s going on. “Do you know
where she is?”
He exhales. “No,” he says, and looks down at his book again.
My shoulders droop, and I start to leave. But he stops me. “Harley?”
“Yes?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, I need you to stay at the house today.”
“Why?”
“Some people are coming over later, and well, you need to be here,” he says. “They might want to talk to us as a family.”
Talk to us as a family? “What’s going on?”
“When your mother gets back, we can talk about it more. But I need you to stay here, okay?”
I nod, thinking how he almost never uses that tone with me, like he’s trying not to show his anger. My heartbeat speeds up, and I take a breath and just blurt it.
“Is this about Ricky?”
Dad stops what he’s doing and closes his book. Then he looks at me. “Yes.”
I can’t believe he said that. My throat gets so tight, I can barely speak. “Is it something… bad?”
He responds slowly, and I watch his eyes, the same color as mine, searching for the exact right words. “It’s something that’s, well, basically a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding about Mom and Ricky?”
He breathes and looks down. “Yes.”
I wait a few seconds and then slowly say what I’ve been afraid to say for weeks. “What if it’s not a misunderstanding?”
Dad looks at me quickly. “What do you mean?”
“I just… what if I heard something? Something between Ricky and Mom.”
“What did you hear?”
My heart’s racing, and it’s hard to speak. “I don’t know. They were talking, and it sounded like… well, like he was begging her for something.”
I’m afraid I might start crying now. I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t say it out loud and make it real. Not to Dad. I don’t want to hear it myself, not even in my head.
He puts his book down and stands up. Then he walks over and pulls me into a hug. I lay my head on his chest.
“Your mom’s got a lot going on. You’re going to have to trust her to know what’s best.”
“How can you say that?” I step back and look at him wide-eyed. “How can you just ignore everything?”
“I don’t ignore anything.”
“But you never stop her. You never say anything. And I know there are things you could say. Things you could do.”
He sits down and exhales again. “That’s not how we work, Harley.”
“But what if she has done something wrong?”
He’s quiet a few moments, thinking. “God puts situations in our lives to see how we’re going to respond to them. If we’ll make the right decisions, His decisions, or if we’ll—”
“Stop.” I cut him off. “You are not going to tell me God is somehow in what’s going on with Mom and Ricky.”
“God’s in everything, honey.”
I shake my head and start to walk out. “Thanks, Dr. Andrews.”
“We can talk about it more when your mom gets home,” he says. “Just try not to worry about it.”
I pause to look back at him, but he’s already returned to his book.
I can’t believe it! He’s seriously going to make some observation about God and not do anything! I storm into my room. I resist the urge to slam the door, but oh my god! My phone is going off again. Jason’s texting me.
Where RU?
Home.
It rings in my hands.
“I called earlier,” he says. “Why didn’t you answer?”
“Something’s going on here. Dad just asked me to stay put.”
“Want me to come over?”
“No,” I sigh. “Just wait. I’ll let you know.”
We’re quiet again. Then Jason speaks.
“I’m glad…” he hesitates.
“What?”
His voice is lower. “I was going to say I’m glad I found you last night.”
In spite of everything, I smile and warm tingles fill my stomach. Thinking about last night and kissing Jason has the power to make me a little less mad at my parents and stupid Ricky.
“Me, too,” I say softly.
“Okay!” His voice brightens. “So. Later then.”
“Later.”
I close the phone and sit on my bed. It’s a sunny spring day outside. I should be running around holding hands with Jason. Maybe kissing him some more. Instead I’m sitting here waiting. Waiting to see what strange business is going to happen at my house. What strange people are going to appear and what they’re going to say. Waiting to see what my mom is going to do. What my dad is clearly going to stand by and watch her do.
Mom finally comes home around lunchtime. I’m sitting at the table spooning egg salad onto a cracker when she breezes through the door looking distracted. She glances at me and smiles briefly.
“Hey, honey,” she says. “Where’s Daddy?”
I pointed to his study with my spoon. I wonder if she’s even aware of what’s about to happen at our house. And if she is, whether she even cares about how it affects me. Or Dad.
I watch Pocahontas glide down the hall toward his study, dark hair fanning out behind her. She goes in and closes the door. I can hear the noise of their voices, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. I stand and creep closer, hoping to make out their words. I don’t care if it’s eavesdropping. This involves me.
“Well, I’m going to have to tell them something,” Dad says.
“I know, but it can’t be that. I promised.”
“So why has he been coming here at night then? Why couldn’t whatever he had to tell you wait?”
That’s what I’d like to know.
I hear movement. “Stuart. Do you trust me?”
More movement. “Of course, I trust you.”
Silence. Then Mom again.
“Ricky’s just young and everything seems so urgent to him. Perhaps it was a little my fault, too. I told him he could call me day or night.”
“Calling is very different from showing up here,” Dad sounds tired. “It looks like—”
“It looks like what they’re saying is true.” Mom interrupts.
I feel nervous, and my egg salad isn’t agreeing with my stomach.
“Harley heard something,” Dad starts.
“What?”
“She overheard one of your conversations, and she didn’t understand.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Mom says.
“Maybe I should get her now.” I hear them moving toward the door and I jump, hurrying back to my seat in the kitchen. The door to Dad’s study opens and he follows my mom to where I’m pretending to eat lunch.
“Harley,” he says. “Now that your mom’s here, we need to talk.”
I nod, looking at both of them, wide-eyed.
“There’s been a certain… development you need to know about,” he continues.
For a second, it’s like he just started speaking Portuguese. “Development?”
“Ms. Jackson went to Elder Bryant this morning and complained that Ricky has been, well, behaving inappropriately with your mother.”
The spoon drops out of my hand onto the plate with a loud clatter. I jump up and tears fill my eyes. Trent’s mom went to the elders?
“Harley,” Mom rushes over to me, but I draw back from her.
“What did she say, Dad?”
“I don’t know exactly what all she said,” Dad says. “But I guess Ricky’s car was here the other night—it was when her son brought you home. Do you remember that?”
Trent told his mom? I can’t believe it. Even if he isn’t my future husband, I can’t believe he’d betray me like that.
“Yeah,” I say. “But we didn’t come here. We went down to the creek for a little bit first.”
“Well, I guess he told her. And I think she confronted Ricky about it yesterday at her appointment.”
I frown, remembering what Ms. Jackson looked like yesterday. I rememb
er what she said about being so pleased with Ricky’s hands. This doesn’t make any sense. Then I think of Ms. Jackson’s expression at the game, her nonstop staring at Ricky and Mom, and the way they were talking and laughing and touching each other, completely oblivious to how it looked. The ladies’ pow-wow last Sunday after church.
“What did Ricky say?” I ask.
“I don’t know, honey,” Dad says.
“Mom?” I glare at my mother. This is all her fault. “You saw Ricky this morning. What does he say?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom’s trying the honey voice on me, but it isn’t going to work. “Ricky doesn’t know anything about this. I think they had some sort of misunderstanding, and—”
“Misunderstanding?” I interrupt. I’m so sick of all these euphemisms, these bizarre, substitute words. I know what this is about.
“Try not to worry about it,” Mom says. “Daddy and I have to talk to the elders this evening, and we’ll all decide how to handle it.”
“The elders are coming here?” This is serious. Dad could lose his job.
“Just for a chat, honey. Everything’s going to be okay. Your mom hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Avoid the appearance of evil. It’s one of Dad’s favorite sermon texts.
“Will they ask you to step down?”
“No,” Dad smiles. “Nothing like that. We just need to decide how to address this, if we even need to include the congregation.”
“Include the congregation!” I can feel my face turning red. Everyone will know my mom’s been accused of doing something with her student. My mom! I want to crawl under the house and die.
“Sweetie!” Mom tries to come to me, but I step back again. She purses her lips. “Now, Harley. This is all just some silly misunderstanding like Daddy said. We’ll discuss it tonight, and it’ll be dealt with.”
“Ricky has got to go!” I shout. “He’s over here too much, and it’s gone way too far.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mom’s green eyes flash, and all the honey in her voice is gone.
I look down not wanting to meet her eyes. I don’t want to be on their side or believe their accusations. I want to believe her. But she’s made it hard.
“He’s just over here too much,” I say with less fury.
“Well, I think you’d do best to keep that opinion to yourself this evening,” Mom says.
The Truth About Faking Page 15
