The Sweetheart Sham

by Danielle Ellison

  “I hear you,” I say, gulping down some of my nervousness. I’m doing this to him, too. I don’t want to be another person on the list.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “When Momma was sick, all I could do was think about how I’d failed to live up to what she needed and wanted me to be. My mind always went to the worst case: life without her. It’s hard not to let those things stop you in your own path.”

  “What’d you do?” he asks.

  I smile. “Honestly? I cried a lot and pretended to be okay. I did whatever I could to keep all that stuff hidden away, and then the worst didn’t happen, and when she was better, I moved on. But part of me kept that fear, because it pushed me to be a better version of myself.”

  “That’s why you go along with the Belles,” he says.

  “Exactly. I can get covered in mud and wear pretty dresses and still be me. I’m learning that this summer, and maybe I’ll always be learning it.”

  Beau sits next to me again. “You’re smart.”

  “Well, we already knew that,” I say, trying to ease some of the tension.

  Our eyes meet in the night and latch onto each other’s gazes. If I was so smart, I’d let him go and move on, but I can’t seem to do that when he’s sitting right in front of me. It’s almost the same reaction I have to Momma’s chocolate cookie cake.

  Beau shakes his head. “Let’s get back. I know you want to ride the teacups.”

  I laugh. “It was never really about the teacups.”

  My heart races and I wonder if he feels as confused about us as I do. Beau is still glancing at me, and he licks his lips, and my stomach comes alive with butterflies.

  “Something else happened today.” Beau pauses. “I don’t know if you know, but I think you do.”

  “What is it?”

  He opens his mouth then closes it again. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Okay,” I laugh. He stares at me for a long time, until it’s almost uncomfortable. “Do you know? About Will?”

  About Will. About Will. There’s only one thing I know about Will, and it can’t be that. Can it? “Um,” I start. “Did he tell you something?”

  “Yes.”

  I watch his face for recognition. “Something that only one person knows?”

  “Yes.”

  “About pretending to be something else?”

  “Yes,” Beau says softly.

  Excitement rises up in my stomach. It’s this immediate weight off my shoulders. It must’ve been because of what happened on the camping trip. I feel myself let go.

  “Okay, then yes I know.”

  Will came out to Beau. That means he told him about our fakeship.

  He pauses. “How are you handling everything?”

  “It’s been a lot to carry around,” I say. I hated keeping it from him, but now he knows. I thought he was going to be mad about it. If Will explained it all, then I’m sure Beau understood.

  “Yeah. I mean, I’m okay with it, too. Totally. But I wish he didn’t feel like he had to lie to me about it,” Beau says.

  I place my hand on his leg, and his eyes burn into mine.

  “But you get it, right? You understand why?” I need him to understand, that way he’s not upset about us lying to him, to everyone.

  “I do, of course I do.”

  I sigh and all the tension comes out in a little chuckle. “That boy is full of surprises.”

  “He sure is.”

  “He said he was going to end the sham, but I didn’t think he’d do it.” I’m so happy now. I can’t believe all this has worked out so great! Beau knows that Will and I aren’t together for real. He told him the truth about us. “It’s been such a long summer pretending to date him. I mean, I love him but then you came back. That day you found us in Charleston was the worst because I wanted to tell you before then, and I couldn’t because we were—”

  Beau looks confused. “Wait, what?”

  I stare at him. This sinking feeling pulls at me.

  “What are you talking about?” Beau asks again.

  “Will. He told you that we were only pretending to date.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Beau is staring at me like I have three heads.

  “But you said…” I pause and it hits me. Cheese balls. I’m so wrong.

  “I didn’t know you were only pretending to be together.” Beau jumps to his feet, and the look on his face is disgust and hurt. “You mean, you knew the whole summer? I thought you’d just found out about him being gay, too.”

  I shake my head. This has all gone so wrong so incredibly fast.

  “No,” I say. “No, I’ve known for a while. I’m the only one.” I jump to my feet, too. “Then this summer he met someone, so we’ve been pretending, that way he could go on dates.”

  I reach out for Beau, but he backs away from me.

  “Wow,” Beau says. “I…I can’t believe this.”

  I knew he’d be upset, but Beau is past that. He’s angry.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I say. “If I had known, then it would’ve been different.”

  “But I came.”

  “It was already too late to go back. I was trying to help Will.”

  Beau starts walking away from Lou’s, and from me, but I follow him. Two steps and he turns back to me. “I told you things, Georgia Ann.”

  “I know, and I did, too.”

  He doesn’t seem to hear me, though. “I told you everything about my parents, and my ex, and you weren’t honest with me.”

  I say his name but he’s shaking his head, already walking away again toward his truck. I can’t let him leave here while he’s mad at me. We have to sort this out right now. “Wait. Talk to me.”

  “This whole summer!” he yells. It’s a little more forceful than I expect and I stumble back. “I’ve been feeling things for you, torturing myself for being a horrible friend to Will. You are a great actress. Really.”

  I’m not pretending with him. He can’t think that. “I have feelings for you, too. I didn’t lie about anything.”

  “Except your whole relationship. What part of this summer was even real?”

  “All of it,” I say. Beau walks around his truck anyway. I chase him over to the driver’s side, my heart pounding. He slams the door before I’m there. “Where are you going?”

  He turns on the ignition. “I can’t be here right now. I thought Culler was home, but really it’s where all my problems started.”

  “Don’t go like this.”

  Please! I want to scream. Please don’t go like this!

  You’re everything.

  But he does anyway.

  I feel whiplashed. I stand there while he drives away, until even the taillights disappear down the road. Tears sting at my eyes, and my mind is trying to catch up to reality. I feel numb.

  I don’t know how long I stand there.

  It’s Will who finds me in the middle of the street, staring at the empty spot where Beau’s truck used to be.

  “Georgie?” he asks. I can hear happiness on his voice. “I’ve been looking for you. How were the teacups?” When he gets closer, he sees my face. I must look a mess because his brows crease together. “You okay?”

  “You told Beau.” I step in closer so no one else hears me. “You told Beau you were gay.”

  Will smiles. “I did earlier. I thought you’d be proud. It went great.”

  I am proud of him, I want to be prouder, but I’m also hurt and mad at Beau for leaving again. I know in that moment I’m being a bad friend. The things I feel, the pain, it’s all mine and not his fault, but I still feel it. How can I keep letting him do that to me?

  “Now you can be together, too,” Will adds. He’s obviously totally unaware.

  I close my eyes, holding back tears and willing the words to stay buried. “We can’t. He just left.”

  “What?”

  “Beau left.” The words hurt. Two this time, instead
of three, but they pack the same punch. “He’s mad at me for lying, and he’s never going to come back now. So there will be no Beau and me, not ever.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Mad about what?”

  I spin on Will. There’s a tunnel of anger and sadness billowing inside me. I can feel it trying to get out. “About us. I told him about our fakeship and it’s ruined everything. This is why I didn’t tell him to begin with. Beau hates liars, and now that’s what we both are to him, just like everyone else!”

  Will shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to him when I get home. We’ll give him some space.”

  “He said he’s going back to Atlanta.”

  Will takes a step closer, reaching out for me. “Georgie.”

  I sidestep away from him. If he touches me at all I will lose it and I have no idea what kind of fury will be unleashed. “I’m going home,” I say.

  “Let me walk with you.”

  I shake my head. “I just want to be alone.”

  Will stands there for a second, and I take a few steps. It all pulls at me, itches under my skin trying to bust out. I can’t take that out on Will.

  I turn around and call his name. Will looks up at me, his face no longer glowing. “I am proud of you,” I say quietly.

  “Text me when you’re home,” he says back to me.

  I nod, and as soon as I turn my head, the tears drown all the butterflies in my stomach.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Beau

  The next morning, Ma makes muffins.

  After I left Georgia Ann, I got in my truck and made the five-hour drive to Atlanta. I didn’t have anything more than my wallet and the clothes on my back. Ma didn’t know I was coming until I opened the door.

  Ma lingers at my door. “You all right?”

  I shrug, but I don’t say anything. Ma hands me a plate of muffins. I eat them in bed.

  My phone rings, again, and it’s Will. He’s called me six times. I ignore it but he calls right back. I answer.

  “Where the hell did you go?”

  “Home,” I snap.

  “You were home.”

  “Didn’t feel like it,” I say. Home isn’t a place where everyone lies to you.

  Will exhales on the line. “Come back. Let’s talk all this out. I swear I was going to tell you about Georgie and me, but then—”

  “Look, I’m trying to sleep, man,” I say. I hang up on him. I see a bunch of other texts. I start to open them, but Georgia Ann’s is the most recent. I shut my phone off.

  …

  On Tuesday morning Ma makes pancakes. I eat them downstairs then I log in to play a video game, but Will is on, so I don’t stay.

  I’m sitting there on the floor when Ma knocks. “Why don’t you go play ball with one of the guys?”

  I shrug. “I haven’t talked to them all summer.”

  Ma leans against the doorframe, dressed in her work clothes. She has a worried look on her face. “I know for a fact Kevin is across the street, because his mom was mad he didn’t have a summer job. Go see him.”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  I go back to bed.

  I can’t fall asleep again. It’s too quiet with Ma at work. All I can think about is the stuff that everyone keeps hidden. What else do I not know about my own family?

  I toss and turn. The sun is bright. It’s too hot. It’s too cold.

  Eventually I end up at Kevin’s and we play basketball in his driveway.

  I take a shot and he blocks it. Kevin is even taller than me so he makes it more of a challenge.

  I would’ve done this in Culler today with the guys. Chris set up a real game, but I’m here.

  “Coach is badass, man. The dude almost played pro. He knows LeBron. LeBron! He’s definitely going to get us some connections for college.”

  Kevin bounces the ball to me. I missed some of that. “Coach Jay?”

  I pass the ball back. Kevin makes a noise at me for not listening. “No, man. We got a new guy. I just told you that. Coach Wallace.”

  “Oh.” Kevin moves around me toward the hoop; I can’t block him. He scores.

  “The Hornets going all the way this year. He put Reg on point guard, and he’s killing it.”

  I stop and take a drink of water. “Reg? He’s a center.”

  “He moved us all around.”

  “Where am I?”

  Kevin moves up beside me, grabbing his own drink. “You didn’t go to the meeting?”

  I stare at him because I have no clue what he’s talking about. I didn’t know about a meeting. Plus, I haven’t exactly been here.

  Kevin continues. “He made the whole starting team go to a special meeting and we had to tryout again basically. We had to re-earn our spots. It was three days of hell.”

  I missed that completely. “No, man. I didn’t get any info about that.”

  “Shit, you should call him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll still let you figure that out,” Kevin says, pulling out his phone and texting me the number.

  I don’t have a spot on my own basketball team. That figures, right? I never should’ve gone to Culler. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “All is not lost.”

  “Sure,” I say, but it does feel that way.

  …

  On Wednesday morning, Ma makes waffles shaped like The Death Star. I can’t eat any. It feels wrong. She makes me come downstairs, so I’m sitting at the table with her and Lawerence. It’s a few minutes before anyone says anything.

  “Your mom was heading down there in a few days. You still going with her?” he asks, breaking the silence.

  Ma puts her hand on his forearm, and he looks back toward his plate.

  I run my fork over the waffles. “Remember in the movies when The Death Star blew up?”

  Lawrence shrugs. “I didn’t really watch those.”

  Of course not. “Well, it blows up,” I say. He nods at me, chewing with his mouth slightly open.

  Ma is holding his hand on the table between them. I imagine the ring sparkling on her finger. She could be happy. All she’s waiting for is me. Why does she need my approval anyway?

  I look back at my waffle, Star Wars replaying in my head.

  It was the perfect thing, unstoppable, and it got destroyed. It stopped. If even The Death Star is breakable, then why would they think anything could last at all? How could they think they would?

  “I’m not hungry,” I say, getting up from the table.

  “Beau, honey,” Ma says.

  I hear Lawrence as I walk away. “Let him go, Kerri. Give him some space.”

  Finally, something we can both agree on.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Georgie

  Momma is pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen as if the last two days haven’t happened. She’s her usual self, put together in a nice dress with her pearls and her hair back. Her face almost lights up when she sees me.

  “You got out of bed,” she says, half in surprise and half in disgust.

  Momma hasn’t asked me what happened at the carnival; I haven’t tried to tell her. The next morning I cried so much I couldn’t stay awake. She and Daddy let me have some space. She did bring some sandwiches into my room, cut into the shape of stars. I didn’t eat them. Yesterday, she checked in on me a few times. She seemed happy when I took the strawberry shortcake milkshake that Will brought from Lou’s when he stopped by yesterday. I didn’t see him, either. I actually didn’t drink the milkshake. I couldn’t without thinking of Beau. I stared at it until it melted and then flushed it down the toilet.

  I plop down on the barstool. “I can go back there.”

  “No, don’t do that. Coffee?” she asks.

  Momma gets my favorite unicorn mug and fills it up with coffee and sugar. She sits it down in front of me. “Are you coming to the Belles meeting today?”

  “No,” I say. The last thing I want to do is sit there and listen to all that.

  “Will came by for you again yesterday.” She looks at me. “He s
aid you didn’t answer his texts.”

  “I don’t really have anything to say to him.”

  Momma’s fingers twist around her necklace. “Did you two break up?”

  I think on that for a second. I don’t want to lie anymore about us, not when we’ve been through all of this over lying. “Not exactly.”

  “Did you have a fight?”

  “No,” I say.

  Momma nods again. “I don’t really understand. Did something happen to you?”

  “Momma, no.”

  “It’s not like you to be in bed for two days,” she says. I grab my coffee and stand. “Georgie, don’t go back up there. Talk to me about what’s going on.”

  I shrug. I don’t want to think about it all right now and she’s not helping. You’re everything. That’s what he said. How could he tell me that and then leave again? Did he even mean it?

  “There’s not much to say.”

  “Madison told me that Beau left,” Momma calls behind me. I’m halfway up the stairs and I freeze. “Is that what this is about? I know you were upset last time, too.”

  I turn to Momma. “What?”

  “Is something going on between you?”

  I take a breath and look up at the ceiling. You deserve everything. “Nope. There’s not.”

  “Well, what is it?” Momma starts to follow me. “I’m worried.”

  “Just leave me alone!”

  She calls my name again, but I let the slamming sound of my bedroom door do the rest of the talking.

  …

  I’m woken by the distant sound of knocking, and someone calling my name. My head is groggy from the cry-sleep cycle that I’ve been in for two days, so it takes me a few seconds to realize it’s not a dream. Then I see his blonde hair through an opening in my curtain. Will.

  I don’t want to let him in. If I let him in, I have to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to anyone. He knocks again.

  “Georgie, please,” he calls.

  I groan and move across the room to open the window. Will crawls inside, his eyes on me as I go back to my bed.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hi.”

  He’s looking at me as if he’s never seen me before, so I crawl back under my covers. I don’t want to see his looks that say way more than words ever could.