The Truth About Faking

frown. Something’s different, but I can’t figure out what. He doesn’t look at me once during class, and I don’t hear a word Mrs. Gipson says. Could he possibly be mad about the Beemer comment? I was just kidding about that. Jason and I are always kidding with each other. Maybe I’m just being paranoid again.
    But at lunch he continues his sudden withdrawal, and after ten minutes of salad chomping, I decide to get to the bottom of it.
    “Okay, spill.”
    “Huh?” Jason looks up.
    “What’s going on with you?”
    “I don’t get you, H.D.” He tries to smile.
    “You’re acting all distant and quiet and stuff. Did I do something to piss you off or something?”
    “Language. Please.” He tries to act offended. As if.
    “Jason. What happened?”
    He stabs his lunch a few times and stares at the tray. Then he glances up at me with those big brown eyes. I’ve never seen this look on his face before—like he’s incredibly frustrated, but still hopeful. It causes a twinge in my middle, but I continue looking at him anyway, waiting for his answer.
    “I don’t know,” he finally says.
    I exhale. “What?”
    “I mean, well, we were talking about your parents and all, and I was thinking about this… what we’re doing, I mean.” He pauses for a second and he seems the slightest bit nervous. “When we’re together, it’s like… it’s really cool. And when we talk—”
    Oh, God! How can I be so stupid? I’ve walked right into it .
    “You know what?” I interrupt him and jump up. He looks startled. “I just remembered I was supposed to get with Shelly. We’ve got cheerleading practice this afternoon, and she’ll have to give me a ride home.”
    “But I thought—” He’s completely bewildered.
    “See you tomorrow morning?” I smile as I back away. Now I’m the one who’s nervous.
    “Of course, but you haven’t finished your lunch.”
    “It’s okay,” I wave. “I’ve had enough.”
    “But Shelly’s not even—”
    I turn away before he can finish his sentence and practically run. I only glance back once at Jason’s frowning face as I push through the cafeteria door. Ugh! I can feel it as I hurry to the library to hide. Then I run to the bathroom just in case he decides to follow me. I know exactly what he was about to say. We both know Shelly doesn’t have this lunch period, and I had to get out of there. Things are getting mixed up. Bad.
    My heart’s pounding, and I need to get as far away from him as possible. But something’s wrong with me because the more I think about it, the more I want to go back and hear what he had to say. Hear the words that would ruin everything—a year’s worth of dreaming and a solid month of careful planning. I looked up at the ceiling. Why couldn’t I have lunch or at least one class with Trent ? It would really help, you know?
    After school I hang out in the bathroom a good fifteen minutes after the last bell—until I’m sure everyone’s gone. I can easily walk home, but I don’t want to risk running into Jason. There’s no cheerleading practice this afternoon. Once football season ends, the squad pretty much goes on sabbatical until summer break and tryouts for next year. Sure, the basketball team still plays, but only half of us cover those games, and we alternate our schedules. I’m not on the schedule this week.
    When I get home, Ricky’s packing up to leave, and I hear him talking to Mom as they plan out the rest of their appointments.
    “So the Denali’s back, but I kind of like our new arrangement,” Mom says. “Uses less gas, and I think some of the ladies prefer you anyway.”
    Ricky laughs. “So that means I’m keeping Ms. Jackson?”
    “If you don’t mind.” Mom sounds like she’s concerned he might mind.
    “I can handle it,” he says, with a groan.
    As I slip through the door, I wonder what that’s all about, but when I hear them moving my way, I continue scurrying quietly down the hall to my room. I don’t want to see Ricky with my mom today, and coming in like this would have them both asking a ton of questions I don’t feel like answering right now. Anyway, it’s none of Ricky’s business why I walked home instead of riding with Jason. He isn’t my dad.
    “And it’s easy to take her,” Ricky says. “Her house is on my way back to Glenville.”
    “Thanks.” I can hear the warmth in my mom’s voice. “All better today?”
    Peeking from my room, I see him nod and give her a meaningful look.