The Truth About Faking

lot of nerve acting like I’m doing something so unbelievable when he’s sitting over there allowing my best friend to practically undress him.
    Trent’s very sweet. He doesn’t put his arm around me, but he does poke me in the ribs a few times at what I guess are the funny parts of this movie I’m not even watching. I smile, pretending like I’m having the greatest time. I study his mouth as he laughs. Maybe once I kiss him, my feelings will get back on track. He has to be the best kisser. He and Stephanie always seemed so into each other, and Stephanie isn’t exactly a nun. I think about Stephanie. What would the head cheerleader do in a situation like this? Somehow I can’t imagine her ending up in one. How do some people always seem to know the right thing to do all the time? I feel like I used to at least have an idea.
    Finally the show’s over, and we all get up to leave.
    “That was nice,” I say, smiling at Trent.
    “Yeah,” he smiles back.
    “What are you guys doing now?” Jason asks, as if it’s any of his business.
    “Uh…” Trent looks at me.
    “Maybe we can just go back to my house?” I say. Maybe if I get him on the couch watching TV in the dark, we can get things moving.
    “Sure,” Trent says.
    “Sounds great!” Shelly gushes. “We’ll see you guys Monday.”
    “Or we could come by?” Jason suggests.
    I cut my eyes at him, but Shelly’s on it.
    “Oh, Jason, I’m so hungry,” she says. “Maybe we could stop off for something instead?”
    “Yeah,” I agree. “And I can’t really have a lot of people over tonight. You know. Church tomorrow.”
    Before another word can be spoken, Shelly’s pulling Jason away, and I take Trent’s hand to pull him to the car.
    I try to chat about the movie as we drive the short distance to my house, but I didn’t really watch it. I think about other things he might be interested in. The radio’s still playing dumb ole parent music, so it can’t be that. I’m racking my brains… what did Jason say they were doing? Ultimate Frisbee? But when we turn onto my street, I freeze. Ricky’s car is at my house again, and this time it looks like two people are inside it. Is my mom in Ricky’s car? I don’t know what to do.
    “Uh… Wait!” I’m scrambling.
    “Huh?” Trent seems alarmed.
    “Let’s go to the creek instead!” It’s the first thing that pops into my head. “I just… I’d rather sit outside and talk. I know a great spot.”
    “Oh,” he seems to hesitate. “Sure.”
    I direct him to the place Jason and I were last night. He parks the car at the road and we walk through the grass to the tree on the bank. The water’s rippling the same as before, and I remember it was a soothing sound last night. But I don’t feel relaxed tonight. I feel anxious and flustered. Trent sits with his back against the tree, and I sit beside him.
    “This is nice,” he says. We look at the dark water. I think about my dream and wonder why Ricky’s car is at my house late on a Saturday night. I wonder if that’s my mom in it, and if so, what are they doing? And right there in front of the whole neighborhood!
    “So I was thinking about your dad being a pastor,” Trent says, interrupting my thoughts. I look at him confused. Is that why he’s being so cautious?
    “Yeah?” I say.
    “What’s that like?”
    I think about my answer. “I don’t know. He’s gone a lot.”
    “Is he real strict and stuff?”
    I shrug. “Not any more than anybody else’s parents, I guess. I mean, most anybody else’s.” Shelly’s mom is way less strict. Especially since the divorce.
    Trent nods. “My mom’s always searching my room.”
    “What? Why?”
    “I don’t know,” he sort of laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “I guess she thinks I’m hiding something.”
    “Well? I mean… are you?”
    “Whose side are you on?” He pokes me in the ribs and pretends to fight.
    I push his arm. “Yours,” I say, with a smile. This is better.
    We’re quiet again, listening to the water. For a moment, I forget about Mom and Ricky, and instead I feel concerned for Trent. Why did he tell me that?
    “So how do you know?” I ask. “Did you catch her?”
    He shakes his head. “Sometimes I’ll come home, and I can tell she’s been in there. Looking under my bed and stuff.”
    “What for? Drugs? Dirty magazines?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Has she ever found any?”
    Then he laughs and says like it’s an announcement, “There are no forbidden