The Truth About Faking

Trent’s voice is so quiet I have to lean in close. “What if someone you know is like that?”
    “Well, I know Ricky. I mean he’s been at my house for almost a year—”
    “I mean, what if it’s someone…” he looks up at me then, and his lavender-blue eyes are serious. “Like me.”
    He’s staring at me, watching my every move, waiting for my reaction.
    “Trent,” I feel like I’m waking up from a dream, but not a completely unexpected dream. Still, I’m not sure I’m hearing it right. “Are you saying you’re—”
    “Like Ricky,” he says.
    I just stare at him. “You’re gay?” I whisper.
    He looks down. “Yes. I mean, I think so.”
    “You think so?” I don’t want to make him feel weird, but it seems like that would be something you’d know.
    He nods.
    “But you dated Stephanie for so long.”
    “Yeah,” he sort of laughs. “She probably knows. I mean, because I never… I never wanted to—”
    “But why would you think that?” I interrupt. For some reason, a part of me can’t accept this so fast. Not about my one-time Mr. Right, hottie-future-husband. As far as I know, he’s only dated Stephanie. And me, sort of. I guess. Of course, he’s only been in Shadow Falls eighteen months, but still. It’s too soon for me to accept he’s on the other team.
    “You just know,” he says.
    I shake my head. “But… how?”
    “I don’t know. You just do,” he says again. “Like, well, look at you. You’re really beautiful and sweet. And I should want to kiss you, right?”
    “I guess.” I feel self-conscious that he said I’m beautiful and that he’s thinking about kissing me. Then I remember our one awful kiss. “But that wasn’t… maybe you just need more practice.”
    “But I don’t want to practice,” he says looking at me. “At least, not with you.”
    I feel my face get hot. “So was I like your last try? Did I make you decide—”
    He starts to laugh. “No! That’s not how it works.”
    He laughs a little more, then he stops and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath and turns to me with a smile like I’m somebody new. Somebody he’s just met for the first time and not Harley Andrews who he’s known since sophomore year.
    “I can’t believe I just told you that,” he says. “That I just said it out loud to you.”
    I can’t believe it either. Even if I almost guessed it, I’m still not ready to believe it.
    “Why did you?” I ask.
    “I don’t know,” he says. “You’re just… you’ve always been so nice to me. Like after class and stuff. You always seem to care. And you have the sweetest smile.”
    Wow. Talk about backfires.
    “And that day outside the gym, remember that?” he asks.
    I nod. How could I forget? I’ve been living on that day since it happened.
    “I saw you were different from them. From Stephanie,” he says. “I knew you’d understand what it’s like to feel afraid, or like you don’t fit in.”
    I remember our conversation the night of our one awful kiss, and him talking about his dad and being on the football team. I glance up at him, and realize how much he’s saying to me now. Like he’s finally getting a chance to speak.
    “Then when I saw how your mom was with Ricky,” he says. “I figured if he was safe with her, if he could trust her…”
    “Then you could trust me.” I finish softly.
    “Can I trust you, Harley?” He looks at me, and again, his eyes are so earnest. He’s just told me what might be the most important thing in his life, and I’m not sure I deserve to know it. I suddenly feel very protective of him.
    “Yes! Of course,” I say. “But what does that mean?”
    “I just… I’m still figuring things out,” he says, looking down again. “And I’m not ready for everybody to know yet.”
    “But you just told me.”
    “I know, but that’s because, well, with the texting and the kissing, I couldn’t keep lying to you.”
    “You could’ve just not asked me out again.” It seems the most obvious solution to me.
    “I know. But,” he hesitates. “I needed to tell somebody. And I like talking to you.”
    He likes talking to me? This is the most he’s said to me in like, ever.
    “So you didn’t tell Stephanie?”
    “I couldn’t tell her this. And my mom has no idea,” he pauses. “If she knew…”
    He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I have a feeling I can guess what she’d say. After what he’s told me about her and what she tried to do to my mom, I feel like