The Truth About Faking

smiles as I hold the front door open. Mom appears in the living room as usual to inspect my date, but I can’t see a thing objectionable in the quiet boy standing in front of me in his khakis and short-sleeved polo. Trent’s hair is done in his neat, short, almost-retro style that goes up on top. Nothing like Jason’s long, floppy brown shag.
    “Hey, Trent,” I smile back. We’re quiet a moment, then Mom walks up.
    “Hi, Mrs. Andrews,” Trent smiles, extending his hand.
    She shakes it and then glances at the two of us. “Be home at 11,” is all she says.
    I follow Trent out to his mom’s car. It’s a nice, reliable, air-conditioned Accord. Music is playing softly as we drive, and it sounds like something my dad would play. I decide Trent must not be that into music. But that’s okay, I reason. He can have other interests.
    “I was thinking maybe we could catch a movie?” he says.
    “Sure. What do you want to see?” I focus on leaving all that other stuff behind and enjoying on our date. My dream date with Trent. Yay!
    “Whatever you’d like,” he says, smiling.
    We’re quiet again, and the music switches to some new adult contemporary song. I wish I could change it, but somehow that seems pushy. I glance over at Trent again. His skin tone is really even, and when he notices me looking he smiles, uncovering those perfect teeth and crinkling those pretty blue eyes.
    “What?” he asks.
    “I was just thinking,” I say, but I pause.
    I can’t tell him I’ve been dreaming of this moment since sophomore year, or that I believe he could be my future husband. He’ll think I’m a nut job. Plus, I’m starting to feel like our future marriage has hit a rough patch, and I’m turning into Mr. Bender. Only without the whole family in Cambodia thing.
    No, with all the after-hours sneaking, it’s more like I’m turning into something worse, like Shelly’s dad. I cringe at that thought.
    “It’s our first date,” I finish.
    “Yeah,” he nods. “Gotta start somewhere.”
    I’m not sure what that means, but I steal one more glance at his soft lips. Just a few more hours, and I’ll get my chance to kiss them. And then hopefully all this confusion over Jason will disappear.
    We walk up to the theater, and I nearly turn and run back to the car. Shelly and Jason are walking up, or more accurately, Shelly’s pulling Jason along behind her. I refuse to look at him.
    “What? Hey, guys!” she laughs. “I thought you didn’t want to see a movie.”
    “Hey, Shelly,” Trent says, smiling.
    I can’t say a word.
    “This is great!” Shelly’s practically bouncing, holding Jason’s hand. He’s standing beside her with his other hand in his pocket. I glance up and meet his eyes for a split second. Mistake! I look away again fast. My cheeks feel pink.
    “Which one should we see?” she continues.
    “I don’t care,” I say.  I want to get out of here. Now.
    “That one’s supposed to be really funny,” Trent says, pointing.
    He looks at me and smiles, waiting for my response, and mentally I shake myself. I have got to get control. Jason and I are just friends. But everything’s different since last night. Since that kiss, and him asking me not to go out with Trent. Ugh! It’s all too much.
    “Well, my vote’s always for a comedy,” Shelly pipes up, oblivious to the whole situation. Trent’s pretty oblivious as well.
    “Sounds good,” he says. “Okay with you?”
    “Sure!” My voice sounds weird, so I clear my throat and smile.
    I can feel Jason’s eyes on me, and now I’m starting to get angry. He’s doing it again. Barging in and wrecking everything. Well, I’m not going to let him ruin my date. I take Trent’s hand and lace our fingers as we walk into the theater. Trent doesn’t really grasp my hand back, which is disappointing, but he doesn’t pull away either. I decide to take that as a good sign.
    We find our seats, and Shelly and I sit beside each other in the middle with the boys on the outside. I reach over and clasp Trent’s hand again and refuse to notice Shelly’s hand on Jason’s thigh. The whole film I try to concentrate on what’s happening in front of us rather than what’s transpiring beside me. Shelly keeps whispering in Jason’s ear and giggling. At one point, I see her twisting her fingers in his hair. Assertive my butt, she’s just plain pushy. Dark chocolate with milk chocolate highlights. Jason doesn’t seem to be resisting too much. He’s got a