When I’m done, I hand them back to the girl with the dimples and wonder what she’ll think when she reads them. I know she will. And I brace myself for the gossip.
Sure enough, it’s already begun. Jake catches me in the hallway on my way to ISS and fist bumps me. “Hey Austin, did you go home sick yesterday? You weren’t in class or at practice, but somebody said they saw you in the morning.”
There’s really no point lying; the truth will get out eventually. But I can’t bring myself to look at him when I say it. I stare at his enormous tennis shoes, instead. “Nah, I was in ISS. I’m there all week, and I’m off the team.”
His eyes bug out, and he rakes a hand through his hair. “Holy shit, Austin. That sucks. What’d you do?”
“Just something stupid, man.” I don’t want to tell him how I betrayed Mia. Besides, he doesn’t need to know all the sordid details.
Jake frowns, obviously wanting more. “So, what’s up with you and Mia? I heard she was giving you the cold shoulder yesterday.”
I roll my eyes. Is every single thing I do fodder for gossip? Apparently so. “She’s kind of ticked at me right now.”
“Well, you better fix it if you want to win King and Queen of Hearts. Otherwise, Chloe and Aiden are gonna take it, and I’m sure that’s the last thing you want.”
I think about the texts, the paper hearts, the Candygrams, and the flowers I’m planning to send tomorrow. I don’t know what else to do. “I’m trying, man, I’m trying.”
Talking to Jake waylays me, and I miss seeing Mia at her locker. She’s not in the ISS room when I get there, and I’m disappointed at first, but I guess I’m glad her sentence was lighter than mine. I wish I could see her face when she gets the Candygrams, though.
I suffer through another torturously long day in ISS, and somehow I manage to get a little schoolwork done, despite the fact that I spend at least five and a half hours thinking about Mia. I don’t see her after class, and I wonder how she reacted to my notes. I guess the fact that she didn’t stick around to talk to me is a bad sign.
It seems like everyone else wants to talk to me, though, and they all want the juicy details of how I screwed up. I force my way through the crowd, barely acknowledging them, pretending I have somewhere important to be. I go to the bank and withdraw some more money, enough to buy flowers for every girl in the school, but only one girl is getting them.
Later that evening, I’m lying around, killing time, and I head to the website where the king and queen nominations are listed. Amazingly enough, Mia and I are still at the top of the ranks. I’m sure people have to know we’re not together right now, especially after all those apologies I sent via Candygram, so why are they still voting for us?
I don’t know how Mia will feel about that. I know she went out with me in the first place to boost her reputation, and there’s no bigger proof of popularity at our school than winning King and Queen of Hearts. But the contest is supposed to be about the best couple, and winning it with me is probably a slap in her face. I’d withdraw myself from the contest and let someone else take my place beside her if I could, if it would make her happy, but it doesn’t work like that.
I click open my messages app, desperate for some response from Mia. At this point, even an angry text would be better than silence, but there’s nothing but a long string of unanswered texts from me on the thread. I start to type a new message, but I’ve already said it all in the messages above, and it wasn’t enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia
Why does Austin Meyers have to go and ruin absolutely everything? Hearts, flowers, love notes — I’ve never gotten any of them from a boy before. So why does the first time have to be from a boy I’m desperately trying to hate?
I’m sitting in English class, minding my own business, when in walks the Flower Fairy in her stupid, little Tinker Bell costume (yes, I know, so ridiculous) with two baskets full of roses.
“Flower delivery!” She says, and the teacher stops her lecture and waves at her to proceed. The girl in the fairy dress prances up and down the aisles, depositing roses on different desks, her ruffled skirt fluttering as she passes by, and I’m pretty sure after yesterday’s Candygram debacle that a few of those roses have my name on them.
“One for Sarah, one for Jessica, two for Emily!” She bounces around the room, taking roses from one of the baskets until it’s empty and most of the girls in the class have at least one rose, and I’m half-relieved and half-annoyed that she hasn’t given me any when she sets the other basketful of roses on top of my desk.
“And 43 for Mia!”
“43?” I gulp and stare at the pile of roses, the flowery scent floating up, suffocating me like old lady perfume.
“A few of the guys heard that you and Austin were fighting and decided to take a shot,” the fairy leans over and whispers to me.
Trying not to gouge myself on the thorns, I pick up each one, reading the note, and sure enough, three of the roses are from other guys, but the rest of them are from Austin. He didn’t take the time to write something on each of them like the Candygrams, he just signed his name, but there’s a message in the colors he’s picked.
The activities club sells three different colors of roses for Valentine’s Day — yellow for friendship, pink to let someone know you like them, and red for true love. Austin has given me some of each. My hard heart goes just a little squishy at that, but I slap on new armor plates and tell myself not to fall for his charms. I already know that Austin can put on a good show for others, but none of that proves his feelings are genuine.
I was surprised yesterday when his Candygram messages publicly admitted he screwed up and begged for forgiveness, but I guess he knew he couldn’t keep our fight a secret for long seeing how I was blatantly ignoring him in the halls. People were used to watching us lip locking at my locker multiple times a day, so the cold shoulder treatment I was giving him was pretty obvious.
I wanted to believe him that he was really sorry for what he did, but it all just seemed too staged for dramatic effect. 23 Candygrams — seriously? If all he cared about was apologizing, one would’ve been enough, but no, he had to make a scene so everybody would know. He’s probably just trying to get more votes for the contest. But I’m tired of putting on a show for this school, and I don’t really care about my reputation, anymore. I can’t control it, anyway. Even when things were going great, I was still fodder for all kinds of nasty rumors. All I really want is the kind of love I thought me and Austin had.
I think about dumping the roses in the nearest trash can so I don’t have to schlepp them around all day and see the looks on people’s faces, but the roses are really pretty, especially with the mix of colors, and they’re the first ones I’ve ever gotten, so I just can’t bring myself to do it. Austin may be a lying, cheating, attention-seeking jerkface, but I can’t fault the roses for that.
Instead, I haul them around with me and try to pretend that the boy who gave them to me actually cares. I got what I was looking for, I guess, a chance to be at the top of the social ladder for once, but now I realize I would’ve been happy with one rose and a real relationship instead of 40 and a fake one.
The worst part is, I would’ve sworn that Austin really did like me. I mean, the relationship was fake to begin with, he never had to pretend it was anything different. So, why did he? Why did he have to go and break my heart?
I go straight home after school, even though Kerri invited me to come over. I’m just too pissy to be any fun. I check out the school website and notice that Austin and I are still in first place for the King and Queen of Hearts. I guess Austin’s over-the-top displays of affection have had the desired result. But if he thinks I’m going to the dance with him, he’s in for a rude awakening. He’s going to look like an idiot when he shows up to claim his crown without a date.
I spend the day Saturday moping around the house, eating what’s left of my 23 Candygrams (why should I let good candy go to waste?) and f
eeling sorry for myself. My mom and dad have another event tonight, and Bianca is out with her new boyfriend. I text Kerri, and we make plans to order pizza and watch X-Men movies till our brains are numb from all the explosions.
When the doorbell rings, I don’t bother moving. I know Berta will let Kerri in, and she’ll know where to find me. I’m lying in bed, still wearing the ratty sweats I slept in, with no makeup and bedhead, when Austin walks in instead.
I squeak and pull the blankets over my head. I only caught a glimpse, but I’m pretty sure he was wearing a tuxedo. Why does he always have to look so freakin’ handsome? “What are you doing here? Go away!” I yell through my thick comforter and hope he can understand me.
“Mia.” A hand pulls the blanket off my head, and I peek up at him with a scowl.
“I’m still mad at you, Austin.”
“You have every right to be.”
“And I’m not going to the dance.”
“I figured as much.”
“I have plans with Kerri tonight.”
“I know.”
“So, you might as well leave.”
Austin doesn’t budge, and finally his answers register in my embarrassment-clouded brain. I pull the blanket down so I can look at him.
“Wait. What do you mean, you know?”
“Kerri told me you were planning to watch movies with her all night, but I didn’t think that was a very good way to spend Valentine’s Day. She agreed.”
I scowl. Some friend Kerri is, taking his side. “I told you, I’m not going to the dance with you just so you can win King of Hearts again.”
“I don’t care about that, Mia. All I care about is you.”
“So, why are you in a tuxedo, then?”
“Because we’re going to have our own Valentine’s Day dance, right here in this room.” He pulls out his phone and taps a few buttons, and the room fills with a cheesy, romantic, old Sinatra tune.
“Music.” He grins and sets down his phone then pokes his head out into the hallway.
When he comes back, he has a huge bouquet of heart-shaped, helium-filled balloons and he lets them go so they float to the ceiling, their curly, ribbon tails dangling like streamers. “Decorations.”
In his other hand is a small, black ball, and he sets it on my vanity and plugs it in. The gadget lights up and starts to rotate, tossing sparkles of light around the room like a disco ball.
“Mood lighting,” he grins, and I shake my head, but I can’t help but smile back.
“And finally, food.” He ducks back out to the hallway and returns with a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a tray of food, and for a minute I wonder if he asked Chef Jeff to prepare something for us, but I crack up when I see what he has — a bowl filled with red, white, and pink M & M’s, heart-shaped Little Debbie snack cakes, and strawberries with chocolate sauce.
He sits on the bed beside me and takes my hand, and I don’t pull it away from him.
“Mia, I’m so sorry I cheated off you. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. But that’s not why I asked you to be my girlfriend. My feelings for you have always been real; there’s nothing fake about them. I think I started falling for you the very first day.”
His words hit me like Cupid’s arrow, poking me in the butt. I felt the very same way about him.
“I tried to make it obvious how much you meant to me with the hearts and the flowers and stuff, but Kerri said you thought it was all for show. I guess I like to be the bigshot. But the only person I care about impressing is you. Heck, we can keep our relationship a secret if that’s what you want, as long as you take me back. Will you forgive me, Mia? Will you be my valentine?”
I can’t help it. I want to believe him, and the look on his face tells me he misses me as much as I miss him.
I guess I must be nodding, because Austin’s face cracks open in a smile, and he pulls me to my feet and spins me around. The song changes to “My Funny Valentine,” and I blush when Austin croaks out the lyrics. Like the girl in the song, I’m laughable in my grungy pj’s with tangled, frizzy hair and a birthmark the color of grape juice splashed across my face, but Austin looks at me like I’m beautiful.
We dance right there in my bedroom, and Austin leads me around like he knows what he’s doing, twirling and dipping me then pulling me close and dropping kisses all over my face and neck. When we get tired, we flop on my bed and snack on cake, toasting each other with the sparkling juice. It’s magical and so romantic I feel like I’m in a fairy tale, but I think I finally believe that what we have is real.
I’m having a great time, but I can’t help but wish I was dressed for the occasion. Austin may love me just the way I am, but I’m sure he’d like it if I looked a little better right now. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head.
“Hey Austin, I’ll be back in a minute, okay? Wait here for me.”
I dash down the hallway to my mother’s room and see that the rack of dresses her stylist brought for tonight’s event is still there. I tiptoe over to it, even though no one is around to catch me, and thumb through the dresses till I find one that catches my eye. It’s red and slinky and way more sexy than anything I’ve ever worn before, and it’s exactly the kind of dress I’ve always fantasized about wearing somewhere special.
I drop my sweats and pull the dress off the hanger, carefully stepping into it and sliding the zipper up the side. It feels silky and it glides over my curves like water. I peek at myself in my mom’s vanity and it’s like looking at one of those games where you’re supposed to match the head to the body, only somebody got it very wrong. From the neck down, I’m sophisticated and elegant, but from the neck up I’m a hot mess.
I grab my mom’s hairbrush and try to tame my frizz, brushing my hair smooth and twirling it up into a French twist. I shove a dozen bobby pins into it to make it stay and spray the heck out of it with some MegaDrama hairspray.
Next, I slather on some foundation and outline my lips in bright red. A touch of blush, a swipe of mascara, and I’m still no movie star, but at least I won’t scare small children away. Some velvet jewelry boxes lay on the top of the dresser, and I crack one open to find a set of diamond earrings and a necklace that are probably worth more than this house. Do I dare? I don’t stop to think, I just put them on and smile at how sparkly they look. Now this is the girl Austin deserves for a Valentine’s Day date.
I pad back to my room, suddenly feeling silly, but I’m not going back and taking this all off, so I push open the door and stand there, waiting for Austin to turn around.
I swear, it’s like a scene in a movie when he does. His head turns my way, and his mouth falls open as his eyes go wide. Then he whips the rest of his body around to face me.
“Mia? Oh my God!”
His hands reach for me, his fingers sliding down the silk on my hips, and he smiles at me. “I don’t know why girls wear lipstick. All it does is make me want to kiss you, but if I do, I’ll end up wearing it too.”
He proceeds to kiss me everywhere but the lips, nipping and tasting all the way down my neck and onto my exposed shoulders, and his lips spark tingles everywhere they touch. When we’re both gasping, he finally pulls away.
“Mia, I’m happy to stay here all night and have you all to myself, but are you sure you don’t want to go to the dance? Last I checked, we were still in first place. The crown is yours if you want it.”
A month ago, I couldn’t have imagined anything better than winning the Queen of Hearts crown at the Valentine’s dance, but today, none of that really matters to me anymore. I have all the approval I need right here in Austin’s arms. But he’s right, it’s a pretty big honor, and if we don’t show up it will default to Chloe. Taking that crown will be a win for all the girls like me — nobodys.
Benjamin is out chauffeuring my parents in the limo, so we take Austin’s Jeep, but I don’t mind. I’m not trying to impress anyone, I just want to have a good time.
The school gym is decked out in pink and red balloons, a
nd people cheer when we walk in. Chloe throws me a look harsh enough to melt the plastic tiara the Queen gets to wear. I guess we’re not too late for the crowning.
We merge into the crowd and start to dance, and it’s almost as fun as dancing in my room under Austin’s twinkling balloon canopy. I feel pretty, but I’m not focused on how I look or who’s looking at me, all I care about is Austin, and if the glimmer in his eyes is any indication, I’m pretty sure he approves.
Eventually, the music quiets, and the student body president takes the stage. She rambles on for a few minutes, thanking everyone who helped organize the dance, and I’m getting more and more nervous, but Austin wraps an arm around my waist and whispers, “You’re a star, Mia. It’s time to shine.”
When they call our names, the room goes blurry around me, and Austin has to drag me to the stage. They place the tiara on my head, a cheap, plastic trinket decorated with rhinestone hearts, and I stare out at all the people who voted for me, wondering who they see.
Do they see me as the daughter of celebrities, the girlfriend of the school star, the brainy girl who takes way too many AP classes, or am I just Mia, a girl who deserves to be accepted for nothing more than the fact that I’m a human being who’s worthy of love?
I realize it doesn’t matter to me what they think when they see me, all that matters is what I think, and I’m pretty happy just being me.
* * *
To be continued in…
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The story continues in…
Connor is Kerri’s good luck charm, but is he lucky enough to win her heart?
Basketball star Kerri “Killer O’Connor” knows she’s bad luck, and she's tried everything to keep it from ruining her life -- a rabbit's foot, a horseshoe, her dad's lucky shirt -- she's never without one.
* * *
My Fake Valentine Page 14
