Fake (13 page)

Read Fake Online

Authors: Beck Nicholas

It's getting dark already as I wander toward the corner shop. My shopping list of milk and bread isn't the stuff of an exciting evening excursion but Mum was caught up with fixing some kid's terrible attempt to bleach their own hair so she's sent me out. At least it's better than skulking about online as Aaron, waiting to talk to Lana. What would I say anyway?

Your brother had time to play soccer but couldn't meet Kath for lunch. What's up with that?

Yep. Not something Aaron is likely to bring up in conversation.

But it's the only question I can think of to ask.

And because it's all I'm thinking of I shouldn't be surprised to find myself striding straight past the corner and walking the extra block to Dave's Emporium. I am drawn to Sebastian. It's getting harder and harder to hold back the wave of disappointment that he didn't show up at lunch. Seeing him run out with those soccer guys only made it worse. Only he can tell me why.

I stop at the door, a heartbeat from entering.

Am I about to make the same mistake I made with Joel? Have I come here demanding answers when I have no real right to them? Am I risking destroying whatever it is Sebastian feels for me?

I want to know that he feels something, that I'm not alone in this crazy rollercoaster of emotion.

I push at the door and a bell jangles inside. There's an older guy – presumably Dave – behind a long counter but there's no sign of Sebastian. I freeze in the entrance, letting the breeze stir the sale dockets announcing crazy prices all over the small shop. It's musty in here, a smell like paper and electronics and not enough air.

Dave looks up and his smile takes up most of his ruddy face. ‘Can I help you?'

‘I … um …' Words fail me. I'm getting good at putting myself on the spot. Life was easier when I sat back and let things happen to me.

Dave's looking at me expectantly. ‘Are you looking to purchase a computer on this fine afternoon?' Another icy gust of wind punctuates his words.

I shake my head.

‘Printer paper?' His smile grows wider and his eyes become jovial slits. ‘We have a fine range of stationery on the far wall.' He gestures to the back of the shop.

‘No.' I clear my throat. This is when I should ask about Sebastian. Only I lose my nerve at the last second. ‘Do you have any …?' I scan the room for something I can afford. ‘Post-it Notes?'

He leads the way with a bouncing stride but I stop halfway. Because coming out of the door behind the desk is Sebastian.

His smile of welcome sends my stomach into summersaults. ‘Kath, I thought I heard you.'

Dave turns with five different packets of Post-its he was ready to show me and his salesman grin drops. ‘Oh … I see.' His disappointment is comically extreme for a lost Post-it Note sale.

He nods at Sebastian and hurries away.

Sebastian moves closer, winding his way between displays without his gaze leaving mine. ‘I hoped it really was you.'

He hoped? That has to be a good sign. All my excuses for being here vanish and I ask the question I need to know. ‘Why weren't you there at lunch?'

He's close now. I can see a little mud from soccer training on the back of his hand but he smells of a quick shower and fresh body spray. ‘I should have messaged you.'

It's not an answer. It doesn't explain why I sat through the entire break waiting for him to show only to be confronted by his sister instead.

His hands move to tidy a display of recordable DVDs. ‘I wanted to see you. I intended to find you but I was called home.'

‘Why?' Normally we aren't allowed to leave the school grounds during the day.

‘My Mum cleared it with the school. I didn't cut or anything.'

He's explained without explaining anything, but I take hold of the important part. ‘You wanted to see me.'

He does that shy shuffling his feet thing. ‘Yeah.'

‘I wanted to see you too.' Six simple words, but together they're like holding my heart out to him on a platter, and hoping he doesn't decide to dissect it.

We smile at each other in the silence that follows and I wish I could stop this moment forever and bottle the blossom of happiness in my chest. Since that's impossible I ask the next thing on my mental list. ‘I didn't know you played soccer.'

As soon as the words are out my mouth I'm analysing. I mean, I hardly know Sebastian at all and although he asked me to go to the party with him he hasn't mentioned it since and I don't want him to think I'm being possessive.

‘Not that you need to tell me everything.'

He does that 404 look again and I don't blame him. Lately I don't understand myself.

He stares out over the empty street. ‘I used to play at my old school.'

‘Were you any good?'

His shrug is nonchalant and I suspect he was awesome. Or maybe it's just that I'm extrapolating from his awesome smile and awesome sense of humour and awesome smell. I've been sleeping with the hoodie he lent me. Because it's comforting. Not in a creepy stalker way.

I don't think.

‘Why didn't you join straight away when you moved here?'

His lips press together in that way that shows the pulse in his jaw. He's thinking about his words. ‘My parents thought I should focus on my studies this year.'

‘What's changed?'

‘I can be pretty convincing when I want to be.'

The line is too fast and it's missing the sincerity I adore about most other things he says. I scan his face but he starts straightening the DVDs again – even though they were already perfect a minute ago.

‘Convincing?'

He nods, but it's a jerky movement.

‘Or they don't know?' My guess strikes a direct hit. His wince tells me I'm right. I make an exaggerated zipping my lips sign. ‘Don't worry, I won't tell.'

His crooked smile returns. ‘I didn't think I would care about joining here, but it's great to play and be part of a team again.'

‘If your parents don't know, how do you make training?'

He glances toward Dave, who is attempting to charm a customer who's just entered the shop. ‘He lets me start a bit later on training nights, so my parents never have to know.'

‘But what happens on game day? It's a pretty big deal here you know. Half the town comes out to watch.'

‘I don't know.'

‘When is the next game?'

‘Friday night.' His answer is barely more than a mumble.

He'll have to come up with an excuse soon. For a guy who's so open and honest, I don't understand why his parents keep him on such a tight leash, while his little sister seems to be able to do whatever she wants.

Sebastian's evasiveness suddenly reminds me of Lana's sly comments about me not knowing him and I open my mouth without thinking. ‘What is your big secret?

He blinks. ‘We all have things we don't like to talk about.'

It's not the denial I expect. He does have some big secret but he isn't going to tell me about it. Lana knows, but who else?

Is it something to do with the way his parents treat him?

Does it explain why one moment I would swear on anything he likes me the way I like him, and the next he's nowhere to be found?

My brain begins to hypothesise while I try to appear unconcerned. The happiness I wanted to bottle a minute ago trickles away under the pressure of uncertainty and a terrible case of Imaginitis.

Mum warned me about the affliction on our very first Choose-Day.

We visited an old antiques shop in a town even smaller than Tuckersfield. I picked up a mirrored compact with a rose design and a chip in the corner. The whole way home I filled the car with my take on the history of the small mirror and the fit of jealous rage and heartbreak that saw it damaged in a grand manor house a hundred years ago.

She didn't disagree but warned me about Imaginitis – the danger of letting my imagination get the better of me. Something I've begun to think about in terms of writing movie scenes in my head.

I banish the possibilities in favour of reason. ‘You'll tell me someday?'

He nods and his shoulders relax again. He gives up all pretence of caring about the DVDs or Dave or the fact we're standing in the middle of his workplace.

His hand touches my chin and he's standing so close I need to look high to meet his eyes. ‘Are we still on for Saturday night?'

The party. ‘If you can't play soccer, how can you swing the party?'

‘I'm not locked up. And my parents are worried about whether Lana and her boyfriend are serious. I'm chaperone.'

‘Joel? I won't break if you say his name.' I need him to know that I'm not sitting home at night pining after him. ‘What happened is no big deal.'

The words come out all sticky.

If it's no big deal, what's with the fake guy?

I can't look at Sebastian. I have too much to hide, and sometimes it's like he can see through to my soul. How could I have asked him to tell me everything when I'm keeping the biggest secret of all?

Nausea swirls in my belly. I feel light-headed. I long for the door to open again so I can get some fresh air from outside.

I take three steps toward the door.

Sebastian frowns, but he's nowhere near as confused as I am.

Aaron is about Lana and everyone she's hurt since she came here, not about Joel. But I'm struggling to convince myself. I have to talk to Chay, tell her it's gone on long enough. Cutting Lana off now will dent her pride and I can stop feeling guilty.

I don't know what excuse I make, but I mumble something and get out of there before I'm sick or I say something I shouldn't.

On jelly legs I get the milk and bread and I'm home in a blur. My head throbs with images of Sebastian's confusion and Aaron's fake smile and strangely, the only image I can properly remember of my father. It was one of my birthdays, maybe my fifth. He's lifting me above his head and I'm staring down into his smiling face as the world spins around me.

And I know for certain I can trust him. He won't let me fall.

Now I know he was lying that day and every day. Like I am now. Is this how he felt leading a double life?

I call Chay and she answers on the second ring. ‘Can you come over? Now?'

She makes some excuse about her father and homework. She's more distracted than usual. ‘I really should go.'

I can't let this rest or I'll be awake all night thinking about it. If I have to do this on the phone I will. ‘Give me one second.'

She huffs but doesn't hang up. Mum is still in the salon but I shut my bedroom door to be sure and sit with my back against it. ‘I think we need to wrap up the fake guy experiment.'

‘No.' She's definite. ‘It's working brilliantly. Exactly as we planned. Why would you want to stop when we're so close?'

I waver. Now that Aaron is friends with everyone, more than Lana will have to be dumped. ‘Someone will work out we're behind it.'

I don't need to tell her the particular someone I'm worried about.

‘Sebastian doesn't even have an account. No one is going to know. We are so close to the plan coming together. You worry too much.'

‘I seem to remember you saying that before.'

‘And I was right. Look, give me another week.' Her voice turns wheedling. ‘You know you want to see that cow taken down a peg.'

She might be talking in clichés but she's right. I sigh. ‘One more week. But no longer.'

I can keep my secret for seven more days.

* * *

That night I open up Aaron's account and see that Chay has been there before me. No wonder she was so hesitant to call an end to our revenge plan. She's written a few private messages to Lana before, but usually they're pretty general. This time she's used what we overheard between her and Joel in the hallway.

To be fair, Lana started it with a long whine about how boring our town is with nothing to do after school.

Chay had Aaron reply that if he had a girl like her he'd blow off band practice or lectures or anything just to hang out and drive up the coast to watch the sunset.

I nearly gag reading the sugary sweet words but then I see Lana's reply.

Any girl who had you for a boyfriend would be lucky.

She's believing everything she reads.

I shut the laptop feeling slightly nauseous.

I focus on her superior smile when she humiliated me in front of all my classmates. I picture the nasty comments she's left about me on her own wall. I hear again her laughter as she told everyone Joel never liked me in the first place.

‘Lana deserves everything coming to her.' But even saying the words aloud doesn't get rid of the sickness.

There's a knock on my door, and this time Mum waits for me to answer. I double-check that I've closed down Aaron's account. ‘Come in.'

She pushes open the door but doesn't cross the threshold. ‘Dinner is nearly ready.'

‘Great. I'll be out in a minute.'

Usually she'd head back to the kitchen and continue dinner preparations but she doesn't move. ‘How is everything?'

‘Fine.' My automatic answer isn't fooling anybody.

‘Are you still upset about Joel?'

I shake my head. ‘I'm going to the party with someone else.'

She frowns slightly. ‘Since when?'

Since you've been spending every second of your free time on Colin's blog or driving hours to see him
.

‘He asked me yesterday.'

‘You're not pining for Joel?'

‘No.'

Her frown melts into a genuine smile. Of course she's happy for me. ‘Well, in that case we'll have to hit the shops. Who's the lucky boy?'

‘You don't know him, he's new.'

‘One of the Elliot kids?'

I should have remembered. Nothing happens in the town without the hairdresser knowing about it. And she's done Lana's hair. ‘His name is Sebastian.' I love the way his name rolls off my tongue. I echo it a couple of times in my head for good measure. Sebastian. I'm going to the party with Sebastian.

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