Fake (2 page)

The awkward silence grows between us like a mountain.

‘The bell's about to ring,' Chay says loudly into the silence.

It's all I can do not to hug her. Somehow, I keep my arms to myself, mentally promising to tell Chay exactly how much I adore her as soon as I get through this lunchtime nightmare. I owe her. Big time.

I clear my throat. ‘I should get to class. See you round.'

For a moment, Joel looks relieved. I know he doesn't want to make a scene. Well, no more than he has by inviting me to the party and then replacing me with someone else. But the someone else isn't done. ‘Wasn't there something you wanted to tell Kath?' Lana whispers loudly.

‘I'll talk to you later.' I cut him off as he moves to open his mouth.

He nods, but she's not done. She pouts. Her arms fold, pushing up her ample chest. ‘You said you'd tell her about the party.'

He's so busy staring at her, a dopey grin on his face, he takes a second to register her words. There's command in them.

‘I'm taking Lana to the end-of-term party,' he mumbles. His eyes dart from Lana to me and then back.

‘Sure, I understand.' Shoving my hands in my pockets, I aim to project casual, although I suspect Joel is the only one who might buy the facade. And only because he's more interested in his new girlfriend's body than anything I could possibly say.

With everything between us apparently sorted, Joel straightens in his seat. Lana's lips curve triumphantly and she leans closer into him, whispering something in his ear. Her lips clearly brush flesh.

He laughs.

At me?

Probably. Does it matter?

And here I'd thought the day my mother graced page six of the national papers in her dressing gown was the most embarrassed I could possibly be. This, however, is pushing for number one spot.

I turn slowly, my only thought escape. The crowd is bigger than I'd thought and they aren't even trying to act as though they aren't looking at me.

‘Poor Kath.'

I don't know who says it but there's a general murmur of agreement. Hot tears fill my eyes. I struggle to hold them back as my vision blurs. Damned if I'm going to break down where they can see me.

I have to get out of here
.

I force my legs to move. Away from Joel. Away from Lana. Away from the sympathetic faces. If only I'd waited to speak to him in private. Why didn't I wait? I break into a run, ignoring the throng of kids looking on.

I stumble.

Great, now I'm going to fall flat on my face in the mud.

Two strong hands come out of nowhere and grasp my shoulders, cushioning the impact of my collision with a solid wall … of chest? Blinking, I look up. Right into the pine green eyes of Sebastian Elliot.

My humiliation is complete.

CHAPTER

2

‘Hey there.' Sebastian's still holding my arms. His warmth seeps through my jacket into my frozen skin as he speaks. ‘Are you okay?'

His breath is like my favourite chocolate bar, cool peppermint dipped in rich smooth dark chocolate. My body sways a fraction toward temptation before I catch myself.

I blink and look around. The crowd is moving toward the buildings, entertainment over. A few feet away, Chay waits for me. There's no way I can tell this boy exactly how un-okay I am. There's no way I want to. He's Lana's brother, part of the enemy camp.

I step back. And instantly miss the warmth of those big solid hands. ‘I'm fine.' My already embarrassed state dials my usual Sebastian-discomfort up to painful.

He looks at me steadily for a long moment. His eyes make him seem so much older than everyone else in our year. They are experienced eyes. Dangerous eyes. He doesn't believe me for a second. ‘Watch your step.'

Before I can answer, thank him for catching me, argue he should watch his own … he walks away.

Chay is instantly by my side, her hand clutching my wrist. She drags me into the new science building and the nearest girls' bathroom. It's empty.

‘What a bitch,' she says once we're inside, leaning back against the closed door.

‘Uh huh.'

‘Is that all you can say?'

I guess this is shock. Apart from where Sebastian touched me moments ago, I'm numb. The need to cry has disappeared into a huge wound of nothing. ‘What else is there to say? He chose her.'

Publicly and painfully.

Chay paces the small white-tiled space. Click, click, click go her red sandals on the pristine new floor and I want to cover my ears to block out the sound. She's thinking. It's an indication as to the importance of what just happened that she only checks her lip gloss in the mirror once.

I slump against the wall. Images are like shattered pieces of glass in my mind. Lana's pout. Joel's guilt. Sebastian's intensity. Their sharp edges cut me deep inside. Hot pain bubbles in my gut and splashes into my lungs making it hard to breathe.

I liked Joel. But even more I liked the anonymity I'd worked so hard for and blown in one stupid march across campus. Suddenly ordinary Kath seems like a good person to be. I might have put her at risk but Lana Elliot dealt the mortal blow. People will be talking about this for weeks.

And I'm starting to think it was no coincidence that I saw Sebastian moments before. The sight of him tilted everything out of balance. Made me brave … and stupid.

‘Why didn't you stop me?' I know the plaintive question isn't fair but I utter it anyway.

Chay laughs. ‘Because I couldn't believe it was happening. You never do anything like that. Ever.'

I hang my head. ‘I don't, do I?'

‘If there's a problem you usually avoid it until it goes away …'

‘Which has always served me well.'

The truth is, if it wasn't for Lana's intervention I would have done the same thing today. Chickened out at the last second. Pretended the whole thing wasn't happening.

Finally Chay stops and faces me. Her pale blue eyes burn with a fire I've never seen from her before. ‘You need revenge.'

‘On Joel?'

‘Lana.' She spits the other girl's name.

I lift my head, breathe in and unavoidably inhale bathroom smells. Antiseptic, toilet waste and cigarette smoke all blend with that newly painted tang. ‘I don't know.' It's automatic for me to hesitate, especially when it comes to one of Chay's crazy ideas.

Her lips press together. A red slash in her tanned face. ‘You're not the first.'

‘First what?'

‘To be dumped because of her.'

I drag myself to my feet. Chay and her boyfriend of seven weeks split over a month ago with far fewer tears than I would have expected. ‘You said you and Kevin broke up because he was leaving for university.'

She looks down at her hands. ‘It didn't help that I caught him at a party investigating Lana's tonsils with his tongue.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?' This new blow comes out of nowhere. I can't believe she's kept something so important a secret. I thought we told each other everything.

She doesn't look up. ‘I was embarrassed.'

‘I'm always here for you.'

‘I know. I'm sorry.' There's a hitch in her voice.

The bell goes and we both head to the sinks. I splash water on my face and gasp as the icy droplets run down my neck. I need to pull myself together before my afternoon classes, but it's hard to concentrate on whether my heartbreak shows on my face. Humiliating me is one thing, but to hurt Chay too …

I grip the edge of the cold, white sink. I'm sick of doing nothing while crappy people stomp all over other people's lives. I meet my oldest friend's gaze in the mirror. ‘This revenge thing. Whatever it is, I'm in.'

* * *

Hours later, I stand in my tiny shower, my skin raw and red under the hot spray. No matter how much I try I can't wash the memory of public humiliation from my body. It radiates from me like the steam filling my small bathroom.

The afternoon at school was a nightmare. I'd shut myself in my bedroom as soon as I got home, afraid my mother would offer to take me to the mall to look for a costume for the party. She'd been so glad when Joel asked me to go with him. So happy to see my dream coming true.

But I don't want to share the truth with her yet.

I'm a laughingstock.

I've tried so hard to fit into this school. This town. I thought it was paying off. For two weeks I was that special kind of ordinary I'd always wanted to be, and then … He discarded me like I was nothing.

I trace the word on the wall, smearing the condensation. DISCARD. Another D word. Back when we found out the truth about Dad, a part of me longed for D-words.

Like Divorce. Departure.

Even Death.

Any of them would have been better than the reality. Maybe it would have made the sympathy we received – and there was plenty – a pure silvery lilac instead of the sickly green that tinged each word with a kind of nausea. I remember pulling the tatty old quilt I'd had since I was a baby over my head. Anything to block out the voices of the people who came by. I was only eight but it didn't take much to figure they'd be talking about the scandal as soon as our backs were turned.

Mum knew too.

It was the reason we'd fled our family home in the city and taken up Mum's inheritance from the old hairdresser who'd mentored her before she met my father. A salon in a tiny town with a two bedroom living space above. It wasn't much, but it had nothing to do with the man who'd fathered me, and that made it good enough for us.

Now, just like then, people are talking.

‘Kathleen, there's a visitor for you.'

My mother's distant voice is muffled by the water. I turn off the taps and step out of the shower, hearing her call me again from the salon below. She should have closed half an hour ago but it only takes one old lady with a sob story for her to keep the doors open and do a quick trim or set.

I dry off, pull on some underwear and wrap my dressing gown around my body. Padding to the landing at the top of the stairs in a cloud of pomegranate soap scent, I lean over the handrail.

‘What, Mum?'

From here I can see into the small salon that takes up one side of the front of the building. The down lights shine off the black and white checked vinyl floor and, as I suspected, there's an elderly lady reclined at the sink. Mum massages shampoo into the woman's grey hair even as she talks over her shoulder. I can't see the visitor but I'm not surprised when the door swings open. It's Chay. ‘Thanks Ms McKenny,' she says to Mum.

I wave, and Mum returns her attention to rinsing off her client's hair.

Chay jogs up the stairs, brandishing her phone. ‘Told you I'd think of something.'

I lead the way to my bedroom and click the door closed behind us. I don't think this is a conversation I want to share with whichever town busybody is downstairs with Mum. Chay dumps her bag on the floor by my desk and flops onto a chair.

I settle on the floor opposite, leaning back against my bed. ‘Spill.'

‘Lana Elliot needs a taste of her own medicine.'

‘What's that exactly?'

‘Heartbreak. Humiliation. To be dumped.'

It sounds fair. She didn't even try to hide her enjoyment during the earlier confrontation with Joel. It's one thing to fall for a guy, but why torment me in the process? It's not like I've ever done anything to her. I barely even know the girl.

Payback. For a billionth of a second I let myself imagine walking through the main hallway at school with Joel on my arm. In the image I'm curvier, with glossier hair and clearer skin. Everyone turns to look and the whispers clear a path before us. Lana is there. Her jaw drops and cheeks flush crimson.

As nice as it would be, I can't hold the image in my head for long, let alone bring it to reality. Femme fatale I'm not. More along the lines of nice. Ordinary long brown hair and ordinary figure, perfect for blending in but not for winning a guy like Joel. ‘Did you see the way Joel was looking at her?' I shake my head. ‘It's not going to happen.'

Chay huffs. ‘Not Joel. You have to think bigger. Look at these guys.' She hands her phone over. On it is a list of her virtual friends, most of whom I've never heard of before. They certainly don't live in the Tuckersfield area.

One stands out. ‘Who's Liam Williams?' He looks about twenty-five.

‘Just some random.'

I wait.

She grabs her phone back. ‘He's a friend of Joel or maybe Eric's from the soccer team. Whatever. When he friend requested he said I looked hot. Who was I to refuse someone with such good taste?'

‘I'm not getting what this has to do with Lana. You want us to get this guy to friend her?'

‘He already has.'

‘You've lost me.'

Chay is wriggling on the spot in excitement. ‘It's simple. We invent a guy. Make her fall for him …'

‘And then dump her?'

‘Yes.' She claps her hands together now that I finally understand her master plan. ‘Lana gets a dose of her own medicine and no one ever knows it was us. Think of it as educational. She'll learn what it feels like to have her heart broken.'

‘Wiping that superior look off Lana's face is tempting,' I begin. ‘And there's no doubt she deserves it.' Chay is nodding, like she can head bob me into agreeing with her plan. I hesitate.

My fingers drop to the bumpy surface of the antique hooked rug on which I sit. There's something calming about the simple yellow flowers in a vase design I bought a year ago on one of Mum and my Tuesday Choose-Days.

I love those days. At least once a month – but always on a Tuesday – Mum makes up an appointment to get me out of school early and we hit the road. While she looks for the elusive perfect antique cup and saucer, I look for people's stories. A lovingly scrawled name on the back of a picture frame. The dedication in an old book. The hand-drawn heart on the label stitched to the back of the rug beneath me. One day I'll have enough stories to create my own and I'll take it to the screen.