The Truth About Faking

get over it,” I lie. She squeezes my arm, excited again.
    “We can talk about it on the way home.”
    Then I remembered why I walked over. “Oh! I’ve got a ride home.”
    “What?”
    “This guy… this new guy Jason? He offered me a ride.”
    “Jason? Who’s he?”
    “Well, he’s uh…” His words after the crash fill my head. “He’s Jason James. Just moved here from New Mexico.”
    “But what about Trent?” I struggle not to get mad at her all over again. Shelly can be completely clueless, but we’ve been friends since kindergarten. And after her parents’ divorce last summer, I held her hand as she cried—it made us like sisters.
    “I don’t know. Jason asked me to the luau, and well…” I realize I don’t have a believable reason for dating him yet. “He seems nice.”
    “Is he cute?”
    “You haven’t seen him?” She always has the latest on every noteworthy boy-event at school.
    “No. I’ve been so knocked out by Trent asking me that I hadn’t really noticed.”
    I can’t hear her say those words again. “Well, you’ll meet him after school.”
    Mr. Platt is walking down the aisle, and I have to get to my table before he starts deducting points. I also have to give this fake dating scheme further thought if it’s going to work. People will get suspicious if I don’t have a good reason for suddenly losing interest in Trent. I do not have my best friend’s reputation for guy-hopping.
    That afternoon in the parking lot Shelly’s stuck to me like glue.
    “I can’t wait to meet this Jason guy. Anyone who could get your mind off Trent.”
    “Hey, over here,” I hear him. “H.D.!”
    I wish he’d quit calling me that. “There he is,” I mumble.
    “Oh my effing… how’d I miss that?” she giggles. “You know, I was feeling a little bad about the whole Trent thing, but not anymore. He’s smokin’ hot!”
    I catch myself before I compare him to Trent. “Yeah. He is, right?”
    I’d conceded earlier Jason was cute, but as we walk toward him, I notice the bizarre, triangle-shaped vehicle he’s standing next to. It has to be 100 years old, and it’s filthy. All his cute points are immediately cancelled out.
    “What’s that?” I say.
    “That, my dear, is a Gremlin,” he answers proudly.
    “A what?” I can’t believe it. He actually drives a car named after an old movie. What am I thinking? Of course he does.
    “A Gremlin,” he repeats. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a Gremlin.”
    “That must be why you never wash it,” Shelly laughs.
    “Huh?” Jason frowns, then his eyes light up. “Oh, right! Cause the water thing makes ‘em mean! Good one, Red.”
    “I’m Shelly.” She smiles and steps closer, and I decide it’s a good thing Jason and I are only fake dating. Shelly is seriously abusing this new assertiveness-modeling thing.
    “Yeah,” I interrupt. “Shelly usually gives me a ride to school. She wanted to meet you.”
    “Making sure she gets home safe?” Jason smiles. “You’re a good friend.”
    “I’m more than that.” She blinks up at him.
    “Okay!” I say, taking my friend’s arm and pulling her back. “So this is Jason, and you’re so excited because Trent asked you to the luau, remember?”
    “Right,” Shelly says still eyeing Jason as I steer her toward her car.
    “He’s going to pick me up in the morning, so I guess I’ll let you know if I need a ride again, okay?”
    “Damn, Harley!” She peeks back over our shoulders. “I guess I see why you weren’t more upset about Trent.”
    For a moment, I’m confused, but I recover fast. “Oh, because Jason’s hot. Right. Well, at least one of us got Trent.”
    It’s a big fat lie. The last thing I want is Shelly dating Trent, even if it’s only once. Or possibly twice. I completely agree with Jason on that point. When you like somebody, you never want them to be with anybody else. Not for any amount of time.
    “I’d better go,” I hear Jason start his freak-car’s engine and walk over to get in the passenger’s side. The door creaks when I open it and makes a popping noise when I pull it closed.
    “Easy on the car,” he says. “I just got her today.”
    “Where did you get this heap?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. “It smells like a wet cigarette.”
    “Carl.” He leans over the seat to lower the back windows.
    “The maintenance guy?” I can’t believe it. Jason befriends everybody! “You bought this from the maintenance guy at