Free The Truth About Faking by Leigh Talbert Moore

I’m so worried. And when it’s finally over, Jason releases me. I feel myself breathe again. Trent hasn’t touched Shelly, and I’m willing to bet this’ll be their last outing together. She doesn’t seem to mind.
    As we walk back to the lobby, I listen to everyone chatting about the film. I glance at Trent’s lavender-blue eyes, and he smiles back at me. He looks sad again, and I’m about to say something, anything, when Jason takes my arm.
    “See you guys Monday,” he says and pulls me toward the Gremlin.
    Trent turns and follows Shelly in the opposite direction.
    Back in the G-ride, Jason sounds happy. “That went really well, I think,” he says.
    “I guess.” I’m looking out the window, lost in thought.
    “Well, I think this was a great first date… first fake date… whatever.”
    “I’ve been thinking. What if I was wrong?”
    “About what?”
    “Remember how you said that about not wanting someone you like to date anyone else ever.”
    “Yeah?” His eyes flick briefly to mine, then back to the windshield.
    “What if Trent feels the same way?”
    “I don’t get you.” Jason’s voice sounds like he really does get me, but he’s stalling.
    I turn in my seat to face him. “What if all this fake dating is a bad idea and it ends up pushing Trent to date some other girl?”
    “You mean like Shelly?”
    “Well, no. Shelly would obviously rather date you.”
    He laughs at that. “She’s a trip.”
    “Mm-hm,” I agree, but I’m still thinking about Trent’s sad little smile.
    “So how’d a tame preacher’s kid get to be best friends with her?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean she knows her way around the field. I think she grabbed my ass on the way into the theater.”
    “I’m sure she did,” I sigh. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten. And she wasn’t always like that.”
    “Interesting. I’m really impressed with your tolerance for her stunts. I guess that’s part of those Fruits of the Spirit. Patience?”
    He grins at me, and I squint back. “So you have been in a church before.”
    “I don’t mind going to church. It’s just been… different lately. And we’re new here.”
    “Well, Shelly doesn’t mean to be a jerk. She really is a good friend. She’s just… her parents got divorced last summer and it tends to cloud her judgment sometimes.”
    “No shit,” he says.
    “And seriously with the language. I’m not getting grounded over some fake boyfriend’s mouth.”
    “Okay, okay,” he laughs.
    We’re almost at my house, and when we reach the stop sign on the corner, I notice a car parked just ahead. It’s a familiar car—it’s Ricky’s! Why is he at my house?
    I grab the door handle and jump out of the Gremlin while it’s still stopped.
    “Harley!” I hear Jason yell. “What are you doing? I’ll drive you home.”
    “That’s okay,” I say, slamming the squeaky, poppy door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    I run the half-block to my house and then dash up the walk. I notice Dad’s Prius is still gone as I fly through the door, and I have no idea what to expect inside. But whatever it is, I’m about to bust it up. I’m surprised when I find the living room and kitchen dark and empty. Voices are coming from Mom’s office, and I jog on tip-toes over to it, leaning my head toward the door.
    “You just have to be patient.” Mom’s saying. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”
    “You say that, but it’s hard to believe.” Ricky’s voice is quiet. He sounds like he’s crying.
    “I know,” Mom says. I hear bodies moving, and I imagine them embracing. This is not happening! Where’s Dad?
    It’s quiet a few seconds longer, then Ricky speaks.
    “Thanks for letting me come over,” he says. Sounds of movement again. “I felt like I had to talk in person.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Mom says. “But you do need to go now. It’s late and Harley could be home any minute. She might not understand.”
    “How is