The Truth About Faking

“That’s okay. I mean, I’ve got a phone. But thanks.”
    At last Pete starts walking back toward us. “Can you drive your vehicle?” He asks me.
    “I think so,” I say.
    Pete hands us the papers to sign and then tears off our copies. I take mine and climb back into the Denali, turning the key as I watch Bender huff into his land-barge. Jason walks up to my door.
    “Sure you’re okay?” He asks.
    Both hands are in his front pockets, and his dark eyes are very round. Puppy-dog.
    I nod back at him.
    “And I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    “Okay…” I say with a touch of hesitation. Then I shrug. “I mean, sure.”
    He lights up. “Later, then.”
    I resist rolling my eyes and instead do a little smile back before hitting the button for my window. As soon as Bender’s clear, I turn the wheel toward the entrance to our neighborhood. I’ll be home in less than two minutes.
     
    Shadow Falls the neighborhood is neither shadowy, nor has waterfalls. It’s basically the hub of Shadow Falls the town. Way back when it was built, graduates of State College wanted to get out of the city, with all it’s crime and bad schools, but still live close enough to work there. Developers spotted this tract of land right across the river and got to work drawing out long, winding streets with cul-de-sacs sprouting off every curve. From the air, it must look like some giant, alien plant life.
    Creekside is the only high school here. It’s built on this trench the developers dug to look like a real creek running down to the river, and it’s populated with kids who’ve known each other since before kindergarten. That includes me and my best friend Shelly.
    My phone rings out again, and I grab it. It’s her.
    “Did you get my texts? Where are you?”
    Shelly’s voice is urgent.
    “Ugh, wreck. Bender. Main and Spring. You would not believe.”
    “Oh my god! Are you hurt? Do you need me to call Mom’s lawyer?” Ever since Shelly’s parents got divorced last summer, she’s been whipping out her mom’s lawyer like she’s a mob boss.
    “I think I’ll be okay,” I say. “Pete was on it. The perp confessed his guilt.”
    “Well, good, because I’ve got the greatest idea, the solution to your problem. Mom got a new book— ”
    “Not another one,” I interrupt with a groan. Shelly’s mom turned into a self-help fanatic after the divorce, and she’s always trying some new theory for finding happiness.
    Shelly charges on. “It’s all about how doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results means you’re crazy…”
    “Mm-hmm.” I can’t see where this is going yet or what problem of mine she’s solving.
    “Then it talks about the concept of Mr. Right, and how that’s a myth used to keep modern women under control.”
    “Last time was religion.” I glance out the window as I navigate the winding neighborhood streets. Our church is at the center of Shadow Falls, and everything sort of converges on that point.
    “Whatever,” she says. “This time it’s about how Mr. Right is a myth.”
    A big hydrangea bush is growing where my street meets Shadow Falls Lane, and today it’s bursting with bluish-lavender blossoms. As Shelly talks, I gaze at the huge fists of flowers and realize they’re the exact same shade as Trent Jackson’s eyes. He’s my non-mythical Mr. Right, hottie future-husband. Well, I’m still working on that last part.
    Last year, sophomore year, Trent started at Creekside High School and literally stopped every girl in her tracks. Unfortunately for me, I had no chance with him. My legs went up to my armpits, and when I smiled, you had to put on your sunglasses to block the reflection off my braces. But over the summer the braces came off, and my body got more proportional.
    And Stephanie Miller got Trent.
    A frown touches my lips, and I turn into my driveway just in time to hear Shelly’s last words. “…put you through assertiveness training.”
    I jump. “What?” My name coupled with assertiveness training can not be a good thing.
    “It’s the whole reason he dated Stephanie all last fall and not you. Brian says he asked about you in August, and he watches you constantly—”
    “Stop! Who asked about me in August?”
    “Trent.” She says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
    I almost drop my phone.
    I can’t swallow. It’s possible I’m having one of those mini-strokes. “Oh my god, Shelly. What did he say? Tell me his exact