“Follow me. We need to have a chat in my office.” He whips around and heads back down the hallway, and I stumble behind him, nervous and confused.
I haven’t spent much time in the office before — a few seconds here and there, turning in doctor’s notes and permission slips, but the gray walls and navy blue chairs lined up inside the door never felt so cold and threatening before, despite the cheesy Valentine’s Day decorations taped to the walls. Even the clacking of the secretary’s keyboard seems ominous, her long, acrylic nails tapping as she stares at the screen, avoiding my eyes. The room has the flowery, chemical scent of cheap air freshener, and it’s so strong I can practically taste it.
He leads me into a small room in the back of the school office. The door is scratched and dull around the handle from years of use, but the name plaque in the center looks new, unlike Mr. Dillard’s polyester pants which sag in the back.
A big, beige, dented metal desk takes up most of the space, and I’m so fixated on it that I don’t notice Austin at first, sitting in one of the mismatched chairs off to the side. I do a double take when I spot him out of the corner of my eye, and his face is twisted with shame and regret. What is going on here?
“Austin, have a seat outside, please. I’d like to have a moment alone with Mia.”
Austin stands and shuffles past me, and his hand brushes against mine. I think I hear him whisper, “I’m so sorry,” under his breath as he passes by, but I’m not positive.
“Have a seat, Mia.” Mr. Dillard waves at the set of chairs Austin just vacated, and I drop down into the closest one as he rounds the desk and takes his own scuffed, leather chair.
“Mia, is it true that Austin Myers approached you with a request to tutor him a few weeks ago?”
I stare at him, wondering where on earth this is going. Is there any reason for me to lie? I can’t think of one. I know part of the deal was that Austin had to get a tutor if he wanted to stay on the team. Maybe Dillard just wants to verify that he did? But then why did Austin look so miserable? Is Dillard kicking him off the team, anyway? I thought he’d brought up his grades. Dillard interrupts my musing before I have a chance to work out what’s going on.
“It’s not a trick question, Mia. Did you, or did you not agree to tutor Austin Meyers?”
I nod slowly, still worried I was digging myself a hole.
“And what kind of help did you give him?” Mr. Dillard steeples his hands beneath his chin, and I notice his pointy elbows are poking at the thinning threads of his ugly, 80’s sweater.
“Uh, I just explained some math concepts to him, showed him how to study for history and biology, helped him with a project or two.”
“And did any of that ‘help’ involve doing Austin’s work for him?”
“What? No! He did it all himself, I just showed him how.”
“So, you didn’t provide him with test answers or write any papers for him?”
“Of course not! Why would you think that?”
He sits back in his chair and taps a finger on his blotter, looking smug. “There have been accusations that an arrangement was made between you two — academic plagiarism in exchange for certain… sexual favors.”
He tosses the words in front of me like fire crackers, and my whole body ignites with humiliation and rage as they explode. Chloe did this, I’m positive.
I’m stunned for a minute, and all my thoughts jam together in my brain, but they can’t find the exit. Eventually, I open my mouth, and they come spewing out like hot lava.
“Mr. Dillard, I tutor Austin, and now I date Austin, but I’m not a prostitute, and I can’t believe you’re accusing me of that! If you’re paying that much attention to the school gossip, then you ought to know that Chloe Levens has been out to get Austin ever since he dumped her. You shouldn’t believe anything she has to say.” I huff and cross my arms and slam my back against the seat.
Mr. Dillard raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t react to my outburst, and I scowl at his bland, expressionless face.
“I’m aware of the situation, Miss Black, which is why I investigated the allegations myself before making any accusations.” He opens a file folder and pulls out a set of papers, tossing them in front of me.
“Do you recognize this paper, Mia?”
I pick it up and glance at Austin’s name in the corner, but it’s the title that catches my attention — “An Exposition on the Life and Work of Emily Dickinson.” My stomach flutters at the familiar words. I read the first few paragraphs, but there’s no point going any further. I know what it says. I wrote it.
“When I was approached with accusations against you and Austin, I decided to investigate. His teachers were very happy with the quick turn around Austin has made with his grades. Miss Linley especially was quite effusive about the term paper he submitted. She didn’t seem to find it odd that a teenage boy who normally prefers athletics to academics decided to write a paper on a 19th century poet, but I did. Turns out you submitted an identical paper two years ago to your English teacher, Mrs. Ring.”
My stomach tightens, squeezing the contents into a lead ball, and my emotions wage a war inside me. Part of me is so angry at Austin, I want to punch him in the face right now, but another part of me is desperate to shield him from Mr. Dillard’s wrath. How could he do this to me? Why? The betrayal burns through my veins like acid.
I think back to the folders full of old papers I keep in my desk. Folders that Austin could have easily found any of the times he was at my house. When did he steal it? Was it before or after he told me he had feelings for me? Was it all a lie? Was he just stringing me along so he could keep cheating off of me? My heart immediately denies it, but maybe it’s not the best judge.
There’s nothing I can do to help Austin now, and there’s no way I’m going to shoulder any of the blame. I toss the paper back on Dillard’s desk with a scowl. “I didn’t have anything to do with this. He must’ve stolen it from me.”
“Austin said the same thing, but I find that unlikely, Miss Black, especially considering your current relationship with Mr. Meyers. In fact, I’m inclined to believe that all his recent successes should be credited to you.”
My heart cheers a little bit at his words. At least Austin tried to save me. That has to mean something. But it’s too little, too late.
“One day of in-school-suspension, Miss Black, and zeros on all the work you’ll miss during that time. It would be more if we had any other evidence.”
My first thought is that he didn’t say anything about my Queen of Hearts nomination, but I flinch as soon as the idea crosses my mind. I can’t be the Queen of Hearts if I break up with the King.
I stumble out of Mr. Dillard’s office and find Austin waiting for me in the hall. I have all these things I want to say to him, all these questions in my mind, but I can’t get any of the words out. I just stare at him for a minute, waiting for him to speak, but I guess he has the same problem, because he doesn’t say anything, either.
I pivot on my heel, the rubber sole of my tennis shoe squeaking, and walk away.
I go to Kerri’s, even though there’s no point in shopping for a dress. I’m not hanging out with Austin tonight, that’s for sure. Twenty One Pilots is playing on the radio when I climb in my car, and my first reaction is to smile, but a second later, my face scrunches into a scowl when the pain hits me all over again. I bet he doesn’t even like Twenty One Pilots. He was probably just trying to make me like him. As if I needed any help. I liked Austin before he even knew my name, and I was a goner the minute he kissed me. The problem is, I still like him, even though I ought to hate him for what he did.
His first text hits my phone as soon as I pull out of the school parking lot. I pick up my phone and glance at it then drop the phone back on the seat. My phone chirps over and over again.
Mia I’m sorry
I was desperate. They would’ve kicked me off the team
I shouldn’t have done it
I didn’
t think anyone would ever find out
It was just the one time, I swear
Will you please forgive me?
I want to take you to the Valentine’s Day dance
The last message makes my face twist in disgust. All he wants is to save his reputation; he doesn’t care who he hurts in the process. Well, too bad. That’s what I wanted out of the deal, and it’s all ruined now. I’m the butt of the joke. No way am I pretending everything is fine just so he can save face.
I ignore them all, wanting to wallow in my self-pity for a while, wanting him to wallow in his guilt and shame. I can’t believe I let myself trust him, fall for him, sleep with him. I gave him everything because I thought he loved me, but it was all a lie. All the happiness bubbling inside me this morning turns to acid in my stomach, and regret sears my insides.
Chapter Eighteen
Austin
I check my phone for the hundredth time, hoping maybe a text came in and I didn’t notice it, didn’t hear the little chime even though it’s sitting right next to me on the bed. Nope, still nothing. I don’t know why I expect any different. My own stupidity finally caught up to me, and Mia was the casualty. She’s not going to forgive me easily. Not today, probably not tomorrow, maybe not ever, although I really can’t let myself think about that possibility.
Maybe on the outside my life didn’t look much different with Mia in it, but on the inside, she made all the difference in the world. I like Mia’s Austin a lot better than the other guy, the guy I used to be. Maybe I can still be the new Austin without her, but I’m not ready to find out. Basketball, my reputation, even the chance at a scholarship, it’s pretty much all gone, but the only thing I really care about losing is her.
It’s only been a few hours since I saw her, but I already miss her sweet smile and the silly things she says that always make me laugh. I bury my face in my pillow, hoping to catch a whiff of her raspberry lotion. It’s faint, but it’s there, and my mind drifts back to last night.
She deserved so much better than a quick roll in my rumpled sheets; I should’ve waited for something special, like the Valentine’s Day dance. I hate that I screwed that up for her. I know being Queen of Hearts is every girl’s dream; I’m sure Mia was ecstatic to be nominated. I’d still take her if she’d let me, but I’m sure the news about me will spread like the flu tomorrow, and our rank will drop off the charts. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m the last person Mia wants to be with right now.
I’ve got homework to do, but I have all day tomorrow to work on it since I’ll be in suspension, so instead I let myself mope around, trying to think of ways to win back Mia. There’s a hot pink flyer sticking out of my bag, and I grab it as inspiration strikes. It’s a list of this week’s Valentine’s Day activities, ending with the dance on Saturday. Before, I always thought our school went a little crazy with all the mushy Valentine’s Day stuff, but this year I plan to take full advantage of them.
I might be a liar, a cheater, and an idiot, but I still love Mia, and I want her to know that hasn’t changed. The first thing on the list is the dance invitation, and I’m going to make sure Mia knows I still want to be her date. I head to my sister’s room on the hunt for some red construction paper and a shit-ton of glitter. An hour later, I have not one, not two, but ten paper hearts ready to stick on Mia’s locker in the morning.
I drag myself out of bed a little early and head to school, carrying my paper hearts and a roll of tape in a plastic bag. I doubt anyone else knows about what happened yesterday — I sure didn’t tell anyone, and I doubt Mia did, either. Hopefully, no one else got any bright ideas about inviting Mia to the dance. I’m sure they would jump on it, though, if they knew they had a chance, so I’m gonna make sure I stake my claim before anyone else does.
A few of the girls’ lockers already have hearts on them even though I’m 20 minutes early, but thankfully Mia’s locker is still bare. Like everyone’s, the front of my hearts says, “Will you be my valentine?” and they have my name on the back. If the girl accepts the invitation, she’s supposed to flip the heart over and tape it back on her locker with the name facing forward, showing that she’s taken.
Some girls get more than one heart, and they have to decide who they want to pick. I tape five of my hearts in a row on Mia’s locker door, each of them a little different but all of them the same in the only way that matters — they’re mine. I can’t imagine anyone else sticking a heart on her door with five of them already there, but I’m not above playing dirty and ripping it off if somebody tries. I just wish I didn’t have to wait till lunch to come back and check, but with in-school-suspension, I’ll be trapped in the same room all morning.
I go to my own locker and wait for Mia to arrive, looking like a loser just standing there, staring at her locker, but nothing else matters right now. A few people try to talk to me, but I blow them off. I don’t want to be distracted when Mia shows up.
Finally, I see her walking down the hallway, and my heart starts pounding out a drum solo. I chuckle when she walks right past her own locker, thinking it’s someone else’s. She backtracks when she realizes it, and she stands in front of her locker for a second staring at all my hearts. Eventually, she flips one around. She yanks it down when she sees my name on it, and my fantasy of an easy reunion flutters to the ground with the torn paper. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.
When she flips over the second one, she sighs and quickly peeks under the rest. She turns to look for me, and I freeze, wishing I could disappear. I don’t want to fight with her in the hallway, and by the look on her face, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what will happen if she comes over here.
She doesn’t though, she just scowls at me and rolls her eyes then turns back to her locker and tosses her bag inside. She doesn’t tear down the rest of the hearts, though, and I feel a tiny twinge of hope that at least she’s not making room for other guys.
Kerri shows up then and snickers when she sees the hearts. She and Mia exchange a few words I can’t hear but can imagine, and my feet keep shuffling, wanting to head over like I usually do to give her a kiss. I lick my lips, squeeze my fists at my sides, and try to keep from doing something that’s liable to get me slapped.
When Mia stomps away, I hurry back over to her locker and tape another heart in the empty spot. I made extra, just in case. I crumple up the torn heart and shove it in my book bag. I don’t want anyone to know she’s already rejected me once. I think about turning them all over so my name shows, but if she sees that she might get mad and tear them down. At least this way it just looks like she hasn’t been to her locker yet.
I head down to the ISS room, and I’m stunned when I see Mia sitting there. I told Dillard that Mia didn’t have anything to do with it, and I knew she’d say the same thing, so why is she in trouble? Is she in here all week like me?
“Mia, I--” The bell interrupts me, and the monitor gives me a look and points at a desk on the other side of the room.
I slump in the chair and turn around so I can look at Mia, but she has her back to me. I resign myself to staring at the back of her head for the next three hours, but the monitor gives me the evil eye again and moves her finger around in a circle, telling me to turn around. Seriously? I have to stare at the wall? When I pull out my cell phone, she shakes her head. I sigh loudly and eventually dig in my bag for my homework. Might as well accomplish something today.
I’m not allowed to leave the room for lunch, but I’m kind of glad. I don’t really want to have to explain what happened to everyone or put up with their teasing. The monitor doesn’t let us talk, but she doesn’t get on my case when I turn around in my seat and look at Mia while I’m eating. I try to tell her without words all the things I’m thinking, but her expression doesn’t give anything away. When the bell rings, she hustles out, leaving me in her wake. I want to chase after her and grab her, make her look at me, talk to me, but she’s obviously not ready for that. I have to give her time.
The next
day, I show up early again and follow the signs and balloons to the table set up in the cafeteria. It’s covered in a red and white striped tablecloth with paper hearts taped around a poster board that says, “Candygrams $1.00” in swirly, pink letters. Two girls I recognize but don’t know by name are manning the table, and they smile at me like they think I’m here to buy Candygrams for them.
“Hey Austin,” the shorter one says, flashing a dimple in her chubby cheeks. “Want to buy a Candygram for Mia?”
I dig in my pocket and pull out a wad of cash, dropping it on the table. Maybe I should save some money to buy flowers tomorrow? Nah, I’ll get some more cash tonight. Go big or go home, right? Girls like to be showered with attention, and popularity was Mia’s goal in the first place, so she’ll probably appreciate a grand display.
“I’ll take as many as I can get with that.”
The girl straightens the money and counts it. “There’s 23 dollars here.” She looks up at me, confused.
“Then I’ll take 23. They’re a dollar, right?”
She stares at me like I’m trying to explain the theory of relativity or something. “So, you want to give Candygrams to 23 different people?”
I shake my head and chuckle. I suppose the old Austin might have done that, if he was in-between girlfriends. “Nah. I’m a one-girl kind of guy. They’re all for Mia.”
She puts a hand over her gaping mouth. “Wow, that’s so sweet! The most I’ve ever sold to one person before was ten.”
She grins and starts counting out the little slips of paper, handing them to me in groups of five. I grab a pen and start writing. I only put a few words on each, but I know Mia might not read them in order, so I try to make sure my messages makes sense no matter which ones she reads first. They’re all pretty much variations of the same things:
I love you
I miss you
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
My Fake Valentine Page 13
