The Truth About Faking (14 page)

And by third period, I realize I can’t stand to sit next to him for an entire hour. It’s simply too irritating. Or something. I wonder if I can do a quick visit to the nurse. Then I could just hang out in the library during lunch. Or the bathroom… I can’t believe Crash Boy is forcing me to hide out at my own school. Aren’t I lucky he came along and ruined my life ten days ago? God, has it only been ten days? Life changes so fast.

I manage to make it through the end of the week and Friday’s the game. We all have to wear our cheerleading uniforms to school when there’s a home game, and I have to stay after to help make the signs and get the gym ready for tonight. Cheerleading’s as much a job as a sport.

My neck’s still feeling stiff from the crash, and as I stand in front of my locker, I practice some of Mom’s stretching exercises. I don’t have to hurry to get to algebra now that Trent and I are going out, so I take a minute to close my eyes and lean my head to one side. I’m still stretching when two hands slid up my shoulders and started massaging my neck.

“
Better?” Jason whispers in my ear.

Tingles race down my back. I jump forward and start grabbing my books. “Thanks. You don’t have to do that.”

“
I don’t mind. If it helps you feel better.” He’s standing too close to me, and his warm hands are still on my shoulders, making my heart beat faster. I’m trying to convince myself it’s anger, but I’ve never felt this way angry.

“
It’s your fault, you know.”

“
What?” I hear him frown. “Why?”

“
My neck’s been hurting ever since the wreck.”

“
I’m sorry.” He slides my hair to one side, and I feel his soft breath behind my ear just before his lips touch my skin. A sizzling charge shoots from my shoulder to my toes.

“
Jason!” I spin around to face him, covering the spot with my hand. “What are you doing?”

My heart’s flying in my chest, and I can feel my cheeks turning pink. I quickly scan the halls, but it doesn’t look like anyone saw.

“
We’re not together anymore,” I say.

He leans against the lockers and smiles at me like he knows his kiss felt amazing. “We never were.”

I narrow my eyes and slam my locker door. He’s doing it again. Trying to wreck everything. “And now you’re dating Shelly,” I say. “Keep up.”

I push past him and take off down the hall. I’m almost running. I need to find Trent, and there he is, waiting outside class for me when I arrive. It’s a nice change from before when I had to beat it to Mrs. Gipson’s room in the hopes of catching him before he disappeared. Now he actually waits around to see me.

“
Hi,” I say when I walk up and see him leaning against the lockers. He’s cute as ever, and so well-dressed. His faded jeans are rolled to the top of his boots, and he’s wearing a tan-plaid scarf over a dark v-neck sweater. Very J. Crew. I exhale and will myself to calm down and get over my unexpected detour into Jason-land.

“
Hey. I like your uniform.” He smiles. Perfect teeth.

“
Yeah, it’s very popular.” I smile back. “With at least half the student body.”

Our cheerleading skirts are a bit short, I have to concede. But it isn’t like we don’t wear sport briefs under them. And mine are the boy-cut kind—my compromise with Dad.

“
I hate that I’ll miss the game. I always like watching you guys.”

“
That’s sweet,” I say, still smiling.

“
So I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“
Seven o’clock!” I chirp and do a little bounce.

He laughs. “See ya.”

I watch him leave, glowing with the knowledge that in just a few more hours we’ll have our first official date. And he seems really psyched about it now. I told Shelly she’s just too overpowering. Trent’s one of those quiet types. You have to coax him out. Use a little patience. I’m so encouraged I do a little skip into class. But I stop when I see Jason’s eyebrows rise. I narrow my eyes at him and slide into my desk. He leans forward.

“
Now, see. You complain about the car, but why didn’t you ever wear that when we were fake dating?”

“
Shh!” I frown at him. “That’s not to get out. Ever.”

“
I’m just sayin.”

“
There weren’t any home games when we were together,” I hiss.

“
Well, shit, H.D., you could’ve given me a few more days!”

I frown at him. “You know, just because we broke up doesn’t mean you can start cussing all over me again.”

He grins and leans back in his chair. Mrs. Gipson comes in and starts class. I pull out my notebook and give her my undivided attention. I do not look to my left once.

I don’t really mind cheering at basketball games. For one, I understand what’s happening much better than I do at the football games. Football has so many odd penalties that are always changing, and the point system is so bizarre. I usually just watch my fellow cheerleaders during them and start yelling after everyone else does. But basketball is straight-forward. I know what’s happening, and the games are super-fast. We’re finished in less than two hours compared to football’s four.

Mom drives me to the gym tonight because Dad has to do a hospital visit. She’s only staying for the first half, and I tell her I’ll catch a ride home with Robin or Meg. I do my banana jump, and she smiles and does a thumbs up from where she sits. I smile back and shake a pom pom at her. Then I notice Shelly arrive with Jason. They go high in the bleachers and sit. Her hand never leaves his knee, and his eyes never leave me. But I ignore them. Sort of.

Then I notice Ms. Jackson walk in with Ricky… and Trent! He made it after all! I skip over to where he sits.

“
Hey!” I say, smiling, slightly breathless. “I didn’t think you’d make it to the game!”

“
Yeah,” he says. “Mom had her massage, and then we were just sitting around.”

“
I thought she had something?” I guess he forgot he’d told me that.

“
No,” he says. He seems a little nervous tonight. Or excited. That has to be it—he’s excited to see me and anxious like I am about tomorrow night.

“
So you decided to come here?” I ask.

“
Well, we were just sitting around.”

“
Yeah?” He already told me that part.

“
And I suggested we go to the game.”

Just then Ricky walks up.

“
Hey, Harley,” he smiles.

“
Hey,” I say. I’m not so glad to see him, even if it does appear he’s moved on from chasing married women to chasing divorcées.

“
Is your mom by herself?” he asks, frowning. Then again, maybe I’m wrong.

“
Dad couldn’t make it,” I say. “But he comes to all the football games when I cheer.”

“
I’m sure.” He turns and goes to where Mom’s sitting alone in the bleachers. I watch her face brighten, and she smiles at him as he climbs up to meet her.

“
Well, I have to get back,” I say to Trent. “See you after the game?”

“
We might not stay til the end,” he says.

“
Oh. Well, tomorrow then?”

“
Yep.” He smiles, and I look at his sweet lips. Tomorrow I’ll get to find out what it’s like to kiss them.
Go, Panthers!
 

Trent walks to where his mother’s sitting on the far end alone with a super-annoyed look on her face. I follow her eyes and wince. Ricky’s parked right next to my mom, and the two are just chatting away oblivious to how they appear. Mom laughs and covers her eyes, and Ricky grabs her arm and shakes it. Wrinkles or not, I’m frowning as I clap my poms together. They look like two teenagers on a date. And right here in front of everybody! I can’t believe it.

My eyes drift to Jason, who’s still watching me. I only glance at him once, but I can see he isn’t smiling either. He actually looks concerned. I just shake my head at him and turn back to the game.

After our half-time show, Mom and Ricky finally break it up, and he helps her down the wobbly bleachers. At the bottom he says something to her, and she smiles and squeezes his arm. Then she turns and walks to me. Trent and his mom are also collecting their things, and I recognize the look on Mrs. Jackson’s face—like she wants to jerk Mom’s ponytail. I could die.

Mom doesn’t notice any of it, as usual. She combs a stray hair back from my face with her fingers. “Would you mind if I leave now?” she asks. “Those bleachers are killer on my back.”

I’m still frowning, but I nod. “I’ll come straight home,” I say, just in case she’s planning on having a visitor.

“
I’ll probably be in bed,” she smiles, then she kisses my cheek.

I catch a ride home with Shelly and Jason after the game. I don’t really want to, but Jason insists, and now that he has a nice, four-door Passat, how can I refuse? The whole ride I’m completely distracted thinking about Mom and Ricky and Ms. Jackson’s face.

“
You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” Jason says to me. “We’re meeting up with a gang at the Shadow Freeze.”

I can feel the tension in the car rise as Shelly holds her breath waiting for my answer.

“
No. I’m going home,” I say, and I hear my best friend exhale.

“
You guys looked great out there,” Jason says. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, but I look out the window again. I can only deal with one problem at a time.

“
You’ll have to come when I’m cheering,” Shelly says.

“
Yeah. That’s like next Friday, isn’t it?” I try to back her up.

“
Yep,” she says.

“
Okay,” Jason sounds vague.

Thankfully when we get to my house, everything looks normal. I go inside and Mom’s still up. Dad’s in their bedroom.

“
Did we win?” she asks when I walk inside.

“
Yeah,” I say. I look at her sitting on the couch with a book like it’s been the most normal evening.

“
You did a great job tonight,” she smiles at me.

“
I guess.” I drop onto the sofa. “I’m not really the best cheerleader.”

She grins and pinches my cheek. “Well, you’re definitely the cutest.”

“
Stop,” I push her hand back. She laughs, but I’m not in the mood.

“
So you and Ricky seemed to have a nice time chatting,” I say, watching her face.

“
Oh.” She looks back at her book. “He just had some questions about one of my clients,” she says.

“
Ms. Jackson?”

Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “It was just something unexpected came up and he wanted my advice.”

I’ve got the feeling it was more than that, but I don’t know what else to ask. We’re quiet as she read another page. Then she closes the book and sits up.

“
You have a date with Trent tomorrow?” she asks.

“
Yep,” I say.

She nods and for a moment I get that feeling again, like there’s more she wants to say. But she doesn’t. “Well, I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed now that you’re in.”

She kisses me on the head, and I watch her leave. And that’s it, end of discussion. I take a deep breath and lie back on the couch, grabbing the remote. I flip through the channels a while, not watching anything, then I just leave it on a classic movie station. I stare at the obviously fake monsters and eventually fall asleep.

A strange tapping sound makes me jump awake. The movie’s now some horror classic where people are bursting out of pods and eerie noises are playing as background music. I figure that’s what caused me to wake up, but then I hear it again. Something’s tapping on the window! My heart’s racing as I grab a couch pillow. No good. I drop it and pick up Mom’s book instead. At least it’s a hardcover.  

I creep over and reach with shaking hands to move the curtain back. Oh, god. I breathe. It’s just Jason. I walk over and open the front door so I can step outside.

“
Hey, you’re still up,” he smiles. “And still in uniform.”

I look down. “Oh. I fell asleep on the couch.”

“
Let’s go for a walk,” he says.

I glance around and consider it. I’m wide awake now, and it’s a warm night. “Where’s Shelly?”

“
I took her home.”

“
So why didn’t you take yourself home?”

“
Not tired,” he says, reaching for my hand. “C’mon. Let’s go down to the creek.”

“
That’s at least a mile from here!” I slide my hand back. “I don’t want to walk that far in the dark.”

“
So get in the car,” he says, and I see the Passat parked at the street.

I sigh. It can’t be much past twelve. “Okay. But not for long. Mom and Dad might wake up.”

Jason drives us to his end of the neighborhood, where there are more empty lots than houses and the houses that are there are gigantic. Stephanie’s family moved to Shadow Creek last fall. Right around the time she announced she was going to college in California. I look out the window and wonder what it must be like to be her.

Jason parks by one of the undeveloped lots, and we get out and walk down to the water. “It’s nice here,” he says. “Without all the construction.”

“
Yeah,” I say, and I notice he’s carrying something like a small box.

We stop under a big live oak tree that’s branching out over the water. It’s a nice creek, even if it is man-made and intentionally installed so they could name the high school after it. A faint scent of cut grass is in the air, and it feels like spring.

“
What’s that?” I ask.

He looks down and reads the box. “Wine coolers. Grabbed ’em out of the mini-fridge at home. Want one?”

I shake my head. “I don’t drink. And besides, my dad would flip out if he smelled alcohol on me.”