The Truth About Faking

in.”
    She kisses me on the head, and I watch her leave. And that’s it, end of discussion. I take a deep breath and lie back on the couch, grabbing the remote. I flip through the channels a while, not watching anything, then I just leave it on a classic movie station. I stare at the obviously fake monsters and eventually fall asleep.
     
    A strange tapping sound makes me jump awake. The movie’s now some horror classic where people are bursting out of pods and eerie noises are playing as background music. I figure that’s what caused me to wake up, but then I hear it again. Something’s tapping on the window! My heart’s racing as I grab a couch pillow. No good. I drop it and pick up Mom’s book instead. At least it’s a hardcover. 
    I creep over and reach with shaking hands to move the curtain back. Oh, god. I breathe. It’s just Jason. I walk over and open the front door so I can step outside.
    “Hey, you’re still up,” he smiles. “And still in uniform.”
    I look down. “Oh. I fell asleep on the couch.”
    “Let’s go for a walk,” he says.
    I glance around and consider it. I’m wide awake now, and it’s a warm night. “Where’s Shelly?”
    “I took her home.”
    “So why didn’t you take yourself home?”
    “Not tired,” he says, reaching for my hand. “C’mon. Let’s go down to the creek.”
    “That’s at least a mile from here!” I slide my hand back. “I don’t want to walk that far in the dark.”
    “So get in the car,” he says, and I see the Passat parked at the street.
    I sigh. It can’t be much past twelve. “Okay. But not for long. Mom and Dad might wake up.”
    Jason drives us to his end of the neighborhood, where there are more empty lots than houses and the houses that are there are gigantic. Stephanie’s family moved to Shadow Creek last fall. Right around the time she announced she was going to college in California. I look out the window and wonder what it must be like to be her.
    Jason parks by one of the undeveloped lots, and we get out and walk down to the water. “It’s nice here,” he says. “Without all the construction.”
    “Yeah,” I say, and I notice he’s carrying something like a small box.
    We stop under a big live oak tree that’s branching out over the water. It’s a nice creek, even if it is man-made and intentionally installed so they could name the high school after it. A faint scent of cut grass is in the air, and it feels like spring.
    “What’s that?” I ask.
    He looks down and reads the box. “Wine coolers. Grabbed ’em out of the mini-fridge at home. Want one?”
    I shake my head. “I don’t drink. And besides, my dad would flip out if he smelled alcohol on me.”
    “Live a little, H.D.” Jason grins. “Own your name.”
    “I own my name just fine, thanks.”
    He flops down on the soft grass and twists the top off a bottle. I sit beside him and listen to the water trickling downstream. It’s a peaceful sound, and being here makes me feel relaxed and calm.
    “So how’d it go with Shelly?” I ask.
    “Eh.” He takes a long drink and then frowns.
    I watch him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Shelly’s nice, but…”
    “But?” I lean forward, trying to catch his eye.
    “I don’t know.” He looks away.
    “Maybe it would help if you hit her with your car.”
    He laughs and twists the top off another bottle.
    “Number two so fast?”
    “This one’s for you.” He hands me the cool, foil-covered glass.
    “I told you—”
    “I know. Just try it. Help you loosen up.”
    I slant my eyes at him. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
    He laughs softly. “I won’t even try to guess what that means.”
    I take the bottle from him, studying the fruit on the label. I have to confess, I am a little curious, and it’s not like I’ll have more than just a taste.
    “It’s okay, you don’t have to.” He reaches to take it back, but I pull away. I glance at him and take a tiny sip. My eyebrows raise.
    “It’s sweet.”
    “Yeah, it’s basically crap.”
    “No, I mean, it’s not what I expected. It’s more like… punch.” I try another, slightly longer taste.
    Jason catches my arm. “Like spiked punch. Take your time.”
    “So what’d you want me for?” I ask.
    He looks at me quickly. “What?”
    “I mean… why’d you come to my house.”
    “Oh.” He seems to relax. “I don’t know.” He looks down at the grass in front of him. “I miss talking to