The Truth About Faking

weekend.”
    I jump. Did Jason tell her I was at the creek?
    “I’m sorry. It was just a coincidence.”
    Shelly frowns. “Coincidence?”
    “I didn’t know he was going to be there.”
    “Well, I figured that. I mean, what was he doing? Begging her to run away with him? I mean, sure he’s hot and all, but your dad’s a reverend. There’s such a thing as boundaries. That’s one of the first books Mom got after—”
    “Hang on. You’re talking about my mom?”
    “Who else? Stephanie said there was some big deal about Ricky being at your house Saturday night. Did they bring up him running around in a towel, too?”
    “No.” I rub my forehead. I’ve got the worst headache.
    “So what happened? And why didn’t you tell me?”
    “It all happened so fast, and I didn’t know what to say.” I can’t tell her I discussed the whole thing with Jason instead.
    Jason, who’d listened patiently and stroked my hair. Who’d held me close and kissed me. That kiss… I want to die. I have to make him understand what’s really going on with Trent. That I don’t care about him anymore, and it’s not a date.
    “Stephanie says they were in the car together late at night, and your mom didn’t deny any of it.”
    “Yeah,” I say, thinking maybe I can go to his house.
    “Well? What do you think?”
    “About what?”
    “Harley! About the whole thing! I mean, Ricky’s really hot, and they are all into yoga and massage and stuff.”
    “No,” I say. “The answer is no. Nothing happened.”
    “I know. Your mom is totally into your geeky dad, I get it.” Then she pauses. “Actually I don’t get it.”
    I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not true.”
    “What if they were like doing some yoga move.” Shelly’s voice gets this mysterious tone. “Like tantric. And he accidentally… you know… fell on her. And his hand—”
    “Shut. Up!” I shout. My chest feels like it might explode. “You’ve got the dirtiest mind. And it’s seriously pissing me off!”
    “Harley! I’m only kidding,” she says, reaching out to stroke my hand. “It’s okay, you can talk to me. I’ve been there. Remember?”
    “I’m not there . My mom is not your dad!”
    Silence fills the car, and despite my anger, I feel a tinge of guilt. As much as her words hurt me, it’s cruel to bring up her dad like that. I remember how she cried, her broken heart, how much it changed her.
    We’re quiet a moment longer. Then we both speak at once.
    “I’m sorry,” we say. Then we both look down.
    “It’s not true,” I say quietly.
    “But if it’s not,” she says. “Then why won’t your mom just deny it?”
    “That’s just my mom…”
    I think about Saturday evening and the way Mr. Perkins questioned her like it was the Salem witch trials or something. I remember his words… behavior modification , a non-repentant spirit .
     “Well, the next time something like this goes down, you’d better tell me,” Shelly says. Then she smiles slightly. “You have to let me be there for you. You know, return the favor.”
    We’re in my driveway, and I smile. Then I lean across and hug her. For a moment it’s like nothing’s changed and we’re still little girls. Not teenagers dealing with major life problems.
    “Hey,” Shelly stops me as I got out. “So you’re going out with Trent again Friday?”
    I shrug.
    “You don’t seem as excited as before. Is it all this stuff with your mom?”
    “No. I mean, I guess.” I can’t explain to her about Jason. Not since she’s apparently going out with him on Friday. It just makes everything a jillion times worse.
    “Maybe you’ll get some more of those something-like-spark-ie kisses. Yes?”
    I look down, and Shelly smiles. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
    “Everybody keeps saying it is.”
     
    But when I walk in the house, it’s all worse. The Benders are here and Dad’s waiting in the kitchen.
    “Harley, there’s been another incident,” Dad says. “I have to go to the church for a meeting. It seems, well, Ricky had an appointment with Ms. Jackson this afternoon. And… she says he threatened her.”
    “What! How? I can’t believe it.”
    “I know. It sounds ridiculous, and not at all like Ricky,” Dad says. “But your mom is talking to him, and I think he wants to speak to the session himself.”
    Mrs. Bender walks over to me and places her hand on my arm. “I know this is hard, but your mother is a virtuous woman,” she says.
    I