The Truth About Faking

the safety of our neighborhood, but I have to find Trent. I have to find him and tell him what happened. The look in his eyes at David’s… I push harder. He has to know the truth.
    As I get closer to his house, I slow down. I can see the porch light on in the driveway, but the car isn’t there. He didn’t come home. Well, of course he didn’t. It isn’t like home is the most welcoming place in his life. It isn’t like he’d go running there if he were hurt and betrayed. Oh, God. I pray again, chewing my lip. Where is he? I try again.
    PLS. I text. Talk to me.
    No response.
    Then I call. The phone rings and rings, but he won’t answer.
    I sit there several minutes and look around, trying to think. I don’t know what to do, so I turn back toward Shadow Falls. I slowly pedal back to the neighborhood, past the party, past the quiet church. I’m getting closer to home when I consider one last possibility. I’m not sure he’ll go there, but it’s worth a shot.
    When I get closer to the creek, I feel my heart jump as I see it. Trent’s car.
    I stand in the pedals and push as hard as I can to close the distance faster. I jump off and run up the small hill, and there he is, sitting beside the tree, looking out at the dark water. I drop to my knees beside him, panting from the ride and from running. After a few moments I start to catch my breath. Soon, the only sound is the constant movement of the creek. The nonstop musical trickling that continues, regardless of what’s happening up here on its banks.
    Several long minutes pass. Trent never looks at me, never acknowledges my presence. And then he speaks.
    “This really is a nice spot,” he says. “I remembered it from that night we came here.”
    “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” I say. “I called… you didn’t answer my texts.”
    He motions to the car. “Left my phone.”
    I watch him in silence until eventually he looks back at me. It isn’t a look of anger or even betrayal now. Just a question.
    “Was this about your mom? Is that why you did it?”
    “No!” I gasp, near tears. “Trent, you have to believe me. I didn’t tell them. I didn’t…”
    He looks down.
    “It was Stephanie,” I continue, my stomach in knots. “She was there with Jason, and I guess she got mad at me for talking to him. And I think she was drinking. She just said it, and…”
    He nods but doesn’t respond. Then he sort of laughs. “I guess I expected that,” he says.
    “What do you mean?”
    He looks up at me again. “I was so relaxed and happy. I thought it was all going to be okay. But I was still lying.”
    “But it can be okay,” I say. “Why can’t it? So what if they know. It doesn’t matter.”
    “It does here,” he says. “It does to my mom. And to some people…”
    “No. It’s just… you know how it is. You’re just the latest gossip. It’ll blow over.”
    He shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Harley. You don’t know what it’s like to be… a blemish.”
    It hurts to hear him say that. Stupid Mrs. Perkins.
    “You’re not that. You’re a wonderful, kind person,” I say, thinking how this possibly puts me against Dad. I don’t know how I feel about that, but I know I’m not wrong. Trent’s not a sin or an abomination, and I won’t let anyone say that about him.
    He exhales deeply before looking away at the creek again. “I hate this place,” he says.
    I don’t know what to say. I’ve never heard anyone say they hate Shadow Falls. Everyone I know loves it here. It’s so clean and safe, with sidewalks and streetlights. And the adults are always saying how our neighborhoods are so well-manicured, and even though some of the newer residents in Shadow Creek have house alarms, it’s mainly for show. Ours is the kind of town where you can leave houses and cars unlocked most anytime and nothing will happen. People are always moving here to get away from whatever bothers them about the city, and they all agree it’s perfect. At least, it’s always seemed perfect before.
    “What will you do?” I ask softly.
    He shrugs. “Tell my mom.”
    “You will? Are you scared?”
    “Not as scared as I was to tell you.”
    “Why were you scared of me?”
    “I don’t know.” He looks back at me. “You were always so nice to me. I guess I thought if you couldn’t take it, nobody could.”
    I look down. It’s the second time he’s said that, and I have to come clean.
    “I wanted us to be together,” I mumble.