The Truth About Faking

it felt. How I felt.”
    “What’d he say?”
    She looks down, smiling. “He said my dad’s a jerk and he wants to kick his ass.”
    I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “Now I love Aaron. I mean, he’s kind of a kid, but not really. Right?”
    “He’s different,” she says softly. “I mean, when we’re together, it’s… I don’t know. It’s fun.”
    Our eyes meet and we smile just as there’s a tapping on her window. We both turn to look, and then she opens her door fast. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of Aaron as her door closes again and my friend’s back is pressed against it. I grab my door handle fast and stand up to see Shelly’s arms clutched around Aaron’s neck. I grin and lean back into the car for my bag before heading to the building. Everything feels happy and optimistic all of a sudden. People can change. Even if for a while they seem very determined to be angry and to not give other people a second chance. I set off for class smiling and ready to see Jason.
     
    In our texts, Trent told me his mom is keeping him home from school now. Somehow she’s blaming our school for him being gay. For him “thinking he’s gay,” which is what he told me she says. He and I agree that’s idiotic, but a few times I catch the whispers of my fellow students discussing what happened at David’s party. Half the female population is saying it’s a vicious rumor and the other half is claiming they knew it all along. I hate it, and I’m glad he’s not here, especially since I know how he feels about all the gossip. On the way to algebra, I think about how I used to rush to see him before class every day, and then I realize in just a few minutes I’ll see Jason. My optimism abandons me, and I duck into the bathroom to check my hair and makeup. Stephanie’s there. I narrow my eyes when I see her. She’s looking in the mirror with one of her newest little Shadow Creek minions by her side, and they’re talking and applying lip gloss.
    “Hey, Harley,” she says, glancing at me. “You know Ashley Lockett?”
    I shake my head. “Hey,” I say to the typically pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl standing next to Steph. There’s always another one coming up.
    She smiles at me. “Hey.”
    “Ashley’s a freshman, but she’s a cinch for the cheer squad next year,” Stephanie continues unfazed. “Keep an eye out for her at tryouts this summer, okay?”
    I don’t respond. She’s got a lot of nerve asking me for a favor at tryouts.
    “Look.” Stephanie puts down her gloss and turns to me. “I’m sorry about what happened at the party. With Trent. I was drunk and stupid, and I guess I sort of blew his cover. Or whatever.”
    My eyes widen. I’m sorry is something I never expected to hear from Stephanie Miller, and it leaves me fumbling for the proper comeback.
    “Everybody says stupid stuff they regret,” I mutter. Then I frown wishing I were brave enough to say what I really thought about her big mouth.
    She turns back to the mirror, but she’s looking down. “I really liked Trent,” she says. “I thought we might get back together if… well, I hope he isn’t too mad at me.”
    I manage to keep my expression neutral, but you could knock me over with a feather right now.
    “I think they’re moving to Glennville,” I say. “And he’s happy. He never liked it here.”
    “I can understand that,” she says under her breath, looking up again and flipping her dark hair behind her shoulders. I watch her smooth pink gloss over her perfect mouth and refuse to picture Jason kissing it.
    “I don’t think it’s going to work out with me and Jason,” she says, as if she’s just read my mind.
    Our eyes meet in the mirror.
    “Oh, really?” I say as if I couldn’t care less. Right. I’m dying.
    “I mean, he’s hot and all.” She smiles in a way that actually seems friendly. “But he’s too distracted. I think he’s still got a thing for somebody else.”
    I’m speechless. Stephanie Miller is not the type of person I’d ever expect to go out on a limb for anybody. Or to back down from something she wants. Now I really don’t know what to say.
    She does an exaggerated exhale and spins to face me. “Look, Harley. Here’s fifty cents.” She spreads both hands at my face. “Buy some backbone and go get what you want.”
    And with that the senior, head-cheerleader, hottest girl at school who’s about to leave for college in California walks out, her pet freshman