The Truth About Faking

back on the rack and walks toward me.
    “A lot happened here this evening,” he says in a calm voice, putting his arms around me. “We wanted to talk to you. But you were gone. We were worried.”
    “Sorry,” I mumble, still fighting tears.
    Mom sighs and drops onto the couch. Dad motions me to a chair.
    “Sit down, honey,” he says.
    “I know what’s going on,” I say, my voice still shaky. “You don’t have to tell me. I was listening.”
    “I want to be sure you understand what’s going to happen tomorrow,” he says.
    “I understand. And I really just want to go to my room. I don’t want to talk about it.”
    Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. “I know this is hard, but it’s just one of those things. We’ll get through it, and soon it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
    “Like nothing ever happened?” Can he possibly believe that?
    “Yes,” he says smiling.
    I shake my head. I don’t know what alternate universe he thinks I’m living in. Or what alternate universe he’s living in, but it’ll take something major for it to be like this never happened.

Thirteen
     
     
    The next morning is like some weird out of body experience. Getting dressed, Mom threatens to wear red to the service, but Dad insists she be reasonable. Then at church we all sit together on the front row, Mom in beige and me in a spring pastel. Dad’s associate pastor leads the sermon, and everyone acts like nothing’s going on. But I can feel two hundred sets of eyes on the backs of our heads. The icing on this whole bizarre cake comes at the end of the sermon when Mrs. Turner’s pipe organ goes straight into the song “Praise the Lord.” And just like that, the Doxology tradition is broken.
    When the song’s over, everyone makes their way out the back doors, while Mom and Dad stand beside me. No one even approaches us to say anything. But there’s nothing you can say if you believe the rumors, and if you don’t, Mom’s chosen not to address them.
    I watch the crowd rapidly disappearing and then I see Trent standing in the back of the sanctuary facing me. I stand for a few seconds looking back at him with my arms crossed until he motions for me to come there. Dad’s talking to the associate pastor, so I move into the aisle and walk back to see what he wants.
    “Hey, Harley,” he says. He seems embarrassed and won’t meet my eyes. “Can I talk to you?”
    “I don’t know.”
    His eyes meet mine then, and I’m less impressed by their pretty color. “I guess you’re mad.”
    “Good guess.”
    “Could I just explain what happened? Please?”
    I think about it a moment. I am curious to hear what he has to say for himself.
    “OK,” I say, and he pushes the heavy wooden door open and holds it for me.
    I walk past him outside, and when I glance toward the street, I see Jason leaning against a tree. He sees me and smiles. I smile back at him, but then Trent comes out and catches the elbow of my crossed arm. Jason looks confused. His smile fades, and I start to motion for him to wait. But Trent pulls me around to the side of the building.
    “Is it okay if we talk over here? I’d rather my mom not see,” he says.
    I follow him, and once we’re out of sight, he stops and turns back to me. We stand there for several seconds as he looks down and kicks the grass. His hands are in his pockets.
    “Well?” I finally say.
    “I just… well, I wanted to say I’m really sorry about my mom. I didn’t know all this was going to happen.”
    “What did you think was going to happen? You told me yourself how she is, how she’s so suspicious. And then you told her about Ricky’s car?”
    He glances up, and the sadness is back. “I never thought. I mean, I didn’t know it would turn into this big thing.”
    “You didn’t know what would turn into this big thing?”
    “When Ricky was at our house, I said I liked his car and that I remembered seeing it at your house. Remember? Last Saturday night?”
    “Of course.”
    “Then Mom starts asking me all about it. Next thing I know, she has me over at Mrs. Perkins’, and she’s asking me all these questions. And Mr. Perkins—”
    “So you didn’t know why they were asking?”
    “No. I mean, Mom was really mad when I got home Friday, and she asked me if I ever saw him at your house. With your mom.”
    “Why was she mad?”
    Trent shrugs. “I don’t know. But, Harley. You’ve got to know I never meant to cause problems for your family. I never