The Truth About Faking

can help me.”
    “Let’s hear it.”
    He hands me a tray as I stop and swipe my lunch card, then I walk over to the salad bar while Jason grabs a bowl of chicken nuggets.
    “OK,” I say, once he’s beside me again. I glance around to make sure no one’s listening. “Here’s the plan. We’ll go to the luau together, then pretend-date for a few days, and then you’ll dump me.”
    Jason snorts. “What?”
    “You want to pay me back for nearly killing me—which is idiotic, by the way—you can help me get Trent.”
    “I saved your life,” Jason corrects. “And how is dumping you going to help you get Trent?”
    “Because,” I motion with the salad tongs. “It’ll put us in the same boat. I’m all broken hearted, he’s all broken hearted, we turn to each other for comfort. It’s perfect!”
    “But why would I dump you?” Jason smiles as he watches me, and I mentally concede that he is cute. But that just makes it easier for me to pretend we’re dating.
    “It doesn’t matter. You’re going back to New Mexico once we graduate or something. You don’t want any long-distance relationships.”
    “But I’m just a junior. And I kind of like it here.” He follows me to the drink station.
    “It doesn’t have to be true!” I lower my voice again and get close to him. “You can change your mind later. It’s just so Trent’ll ask me out.”
    He looks down at me, and that silly smile returns. “I don’t like it.”
    “What’s the problem?”
    “Well, what if dating you’s fun? I mean, you might not be so bad to go out with.”
    “You’re joking, right? I’m great to go out with, but more importantly, we are not dating. It’s all fake.”
    “But what if you change your mind? I mean, I’ve heard I’m pretty great to go out with, too.”
    I see Robin waving at me from the cheerleaders’ table in the center of the room. I always sit with them at lunch, but I can’t today. I gesture towards Jason. Thank goodness he sees what I’m doing and steers me in the opposite direction. Robin’s eyebrows pull together, but I shrug and follow him.
    “OK. So fill in the blanks,” he says. “How long are we dating?”
    “Fake dating, and I don’t know.” I look around and spot an empty table in a far corner where no one’ll overhear us. “Look, we can sit there.”
    We go to the table and put our trays down. Jason pulls up a chair, and I scoot close to him. He smiles again, and I notice he’s wearing cologne that smells kind-of woodsy and a little citrusey.
    “You smell nice,” I say, opening my water. Then I notice he’s wearing better jeans and a light-brown polo. His hair’s also neater. It’s like he planned to look cute today or something.
    “Thanks,” he says, but his voice breaks my distraction. It’s too loud.
    “Talk low. I don’t want this getting out.”
    A sly look enters his eyes. “You spiked the Kool-aid?”
    “What?”
    “Sorry. I thought we’d moved on to the next harebrained scheme.”
    “Would you focus? This is all your fault, you know.”
    “How so?” He stabs a nugget with his fork.
    “I’ve been working for weeks to get Trent to ask me out, and then you ruined it all in two seconds.”
    “I’m fast. But why the wait? Why didn’t you just ask him to the luau yourself?”
    “I had to wait because he’d just broken up with Stephanie Miller.” I stab at my salad, remembering those miserable days. I could still see Trent holding her hand, her smiling blissfully back at him. Ugh.
    “And anyway, I don’t do that.”
    “Do what?”
    “Ask guys out.”
    “Why not?”
    “Not relevant.”
    Then he leans back in his chair, studying me. “Is this one of those ‘nice girls don’t ask guys out’ things?”
    I point my fork at him. “That’s very stereotypical.”
    “Says the person doing it.”
    “I’m not doing anything. I’m breaking the cycle.” That makes me think of Shelly. And Trent asking her to the luau. Ugh! again.
    “Back to the blanks,” I say. My perfect plan has got to work. “Two weeks?”
    “What?” Jason looks lost.
    “Do you think two weeks is long enough to fake date? That’ll give us like, two Fridays.”
    “Oh. I don’t know. I’ve never fake dated anyone before.”
    “Well, you’re a guy. If there was a girl out there you liked and she was dating this other guy, how long would be long enough for them to date?”
    His eyes travel around my face and hair before he answers. “Never.”
    “What?”
    “If I