Heartbreakers and Fakers

by Cameron Lund

  • • • • • •

  I’m in the bin candy aisle at the local market the next day when I bump into Myriah.

  “I should have expected you here,” I say. Myriah is obsessed with bin candy. Whenever she’s upset about something, she always buys herself a big bag. The fact that she’s here now means something must be wrong. “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  She picks up the pair of plastic tongs and reaches into the sour strawberries. Myriah is vegan, so she’s done her research. She knows which candies are acceptable (Sour Patch Kids) and which to avoid at all costs (gummy bears). “I’m okay. Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Her face has gone bright red.

  “Myriah,” I say. “You can talk to me.”

  “Are you coming to the cabin this weekend?” she asks.

  “Yeah, Romina said I could still come, so . . .” At the mention of Romina’s name, Myriah’s face turns an even darker shade of red.

  “Okay, good.” She looks behind us, peeks over the edge of the shelf to make sure no one is around and eavesdropping. Whatever she’s about to tell me, she clearly doesn’t want an audience. “So, um . . . I didn’t tell you the other night because, well, you had your own issues. But . . . Romina and I kissed at Jordan’s party.”

  Of all the things I was expecting her to say, this wasn’t one of them. But it is the best kind of surprising. “Wait, that’s amazing,” I say.

  “Is it?” she asks.

  “Of course it is!”

  “I think I really, really like her.” She eats a sour strawberry. “I mean, I know I really like her. And I think she likes me. But it’s such a cliché, right? The two of us. I don’t want her to think I like her just because we’re the only two queer girls in the group, and, like . . . even though we both like girls doesn’t mean we automatically like each other—that’s not how it works. And I’m just scared to ruin our friendship, you know? I really don’t want to mess this up. Besides, I’m so different from Harper.”

  Romina dated Harper McNulty for all of sophomore year—Harper, who she met at her cello lessons, who collected dead animal skulls and crystals and had tattoos of wildflowers up and down her arms. Harper, who is the complete opposite of the ball of sunshine that is Myriah. But there’s a reason they broke up. For how cool we all thought Harper was, she also never wanted Romina to hang out with us, used to get jealous and clingy anytime Myriah was around.

  “Have you told Romina how you feel?”

  “No, she thinks I like this girl at my dance studio, because I am a pathetic coward.”

  “You guys will work this out,” I say. “You’re not Harper. You’re Myriah, and that’s so much better.” I feel horrible then that she’s letting me in on this secret, sharing her true feelings with me when I’ve been feeding her lies. But I can’t tell her the truth about Kai. It would ruin everything.

  “Thanks, Penny.” She puts the plastic tongs back in their holder. “I’m so glad I could talk to you. You’re such a good friend.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I say, and she bursts out laughing.

  NOW

  I WAKE UP RIDICULOUSLY EARLY on the Fourth of July, filled with so much anxiety I can’t sleep. Kai is coming to pick me up at ten thirty so we can drive to Romina’s cabin together, and the predawn hours of the morning feel endless. I know Kai and I sorta faked it at Danny’s campfire on the beach, but that was for like five seconds. This will be the first time we’ll have to really fake it. Our first big test. And I’m nervous.

  Do you think this is a good idea? I text him, before realizing he’s probably still asleep. Maybe they don’t actually want us there.

  He responds a few minutes later. You should stop worrying so much about what everybody else thinks.

  I toss my phone onto the bed, suddenly buzzing with anger. How dare Kai tell me how I’m allowed to feel. I grab my phone again and start typing and erasing messages, trying to figure out how to phrase what I mean to say: Are you seriously suggesting . . . of course I care about . . . I can handle . . .

  In the end, I don’t send anything, and I know Kai can probably see the three dots on the screen as I waffle. Instead, I grab my little red suitcase out of the closet and start throwing clothes into it. I bought a red checkered bathing suit and a pair of bright red heart sunglasses a few months ago, back before this whole mess started. And I want to wear them. I want to take cute pictures, need Jordan to see me in my bathing suit and realize what he’s missing out on.

  I think that’s what makes me maddest of all. I’m not angry with Kai—not really. I’m angry with myself. Because he’s right. I do care what people think of me. I care what Jordan thinks of me. I want to go to the cabin so, so badly. More than I want to be there, though, I want them all to want me there—for Olivia to be excited when I pull up, like nothing has changed.

  Like I didn’t ruin everything.

  But that’s why we’re doing this. The only way to get my life back to normal is to put on a brave face and play nice with Kai and rock that bikini like I always planned.

  So I text him. Fine. See you later, asshole.

  I’m in the kitchen making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—I debated not making one for Kai, but decided I’m not cruel enough to starve him—when my mom pads in.

  “You’re up early.” She reaches for the coffeepot. “Don’t usually get to see you before work.”

  “Yeah.” I press two slices of bread together and drop them into a plastic sandwich bag. “A bunch of us are going to hang at the lake today. I’m spending the night at Olivia’s, okay?” My usual line.

  “Well, that sounds fun,” she says, filling the pot with water and scooping out some coffee grounds.

  “How are things with Steve?” I ask, just to see the look on her face. She turns on the coffeepot and sighs, and then when she looks up at me, she’s actually smiling. Like, really smiling. Not the I ditched him after one date grimace I was expecting.

  “Steve is wonderful. He’s such a sweetheart. I’m feeling really good about this one.”

  “Oh,” I say, trying to match her smile. I don’t know why I feel so mixed up. “Well, that’s good, then.”

  “I really like him.” She ties her hair back into a bun. “Listen—I have to run. Still have to get dressed, and everything has been crazy this week at the hospital. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay? You’ll call if you need anything?” And then she turns and dashes out of the room, back up the stairs.

  I know I should be excited that I can get away with going to parties like this so easily—it should feel great to be this free. But a part of me wants her to stick around longer, to ask a few more questions: When will you be home? Will Olivia’s parents be there?

  Most moms would have time for that.

  * * *

  • • • • • •

  Kai is always late for everything, so by the time he pulls up at eleven thirty, I’m about ready to kill him.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I say, slamming the door to Kai’s Jeep when I get in.

  He’s dressed for the occasion—a pair of red-and-white-striped swim shorts and red sunglasses. We didn’t even plan it, and we’re matching. It’s disgusting.

  I want to change into something different, but I know our matching outfits look good. If we want to pull this off, we have to look like the kind of couple who does cute stuff like this—the kind of couple Jordan and I used to be.

  You guys always look the same, people used to say when we’d walk down the hallway hand in hand, both of us dark-haired and taller than everyone else in our matching Gonzaga hats. I liked wearing Jordan’s number on game days, felt so special that everyone knew we belonged together.

  It feels weird re-creating all these memories with Kai.

  “Ready to show off our blossoming love?” he asks, grinning.

  I throw the extra sandw
ich at him and am satisfied when it hits his chest, hard. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Kai grabs the sandwich. “Wow, you made this for me?” He’s smiling wide, like he’s genuinely pleased.

  “It’s poisoned,” I say just to annoy him.

  Kai takes a left off my street, and soon we’re cruising through town. “Speaking of poison,” he says, turning to me. “Next Saturday work for that dinner? I might have accidentally mentioned something to my mom, and now she wants to help us cook.”

  “Kai,” I say, a warning in my voice. “Does she think we’re dating?”

  “That was the whole point, wasn’t it?”

  “Fine,” I agree. “But I don’t like the idea of lying to her.” Even though we’re lying to everybody else, the idea of Kai’s mom getting the wrong idea feels just a little bit worse.

  We take another left, and then we’re on the winding road that will bring us all the way to the other side of the lake. The cabin is tucked away in the trees, in a remote area with hardly any cell service. It makes it feel like we’re in a scary movie. I would turn back if I were you.

  “This isn’t all some big ruse for you to murder me, right?” I ask Kai.

  “Nah.” He smiles. “That would be way too predictable. It’s always the boyfriend.”

  His use of the word boyfriend jolts me, even though I know that’s technically what he is in this crazy alternate universe we’ve found ourselves in.

  “If anyone were going to do any murdering around here, it would be Olivia,” Kai continues.

  “I mean, I guess we would deserve it.”

  “She’s a little scary sometimes,” Kai says, and I’m surprised. It’s weird that he wants to be with her—that he’s trying to get her back—but can make comments like that.

  “But you still like her, though,” I say, turning toward him.

  Kai clears his throat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It takes him a second to answer. “She and I go way back. I would do anything for Liv, you know?” He turns to me and shrugs. “She’s just . . . intense. You know that better than any of us.”

  “Intense is a good word,” I say, chewing my bottom lip.

  “And she’s astonishingly hot,” he says with a full grin.

  “But there’s more to it than that, right?” I turn down the music on the stereo. “I mean, we’re not doing this whole plan—trying to get you guys back together—just because you think she’s hot, right? It has to be deeper than that.”

  I’m feeling protective all of a sudden, even though I know Olivia doesn’t need it. Out of anyone I’ve ever met, she can take care of herself. But I will fight any guy who tries to use her, that only wants to be with her for her looks. Just because Olivia said those horrible things to me at the campfire doesn’t cancel out our years of friendship. I poked the wasp’s nest by kissing Kai, so it’s my fault I got stung.

  “Of course there’s more to it,” Kai says. “She’s Olivia. When she’s mean, she’s mean. But there’s just something about her. When she likes you, you just . . .” He trails off, and I try to fill in the words for him.

  “Feel like you matter, right? Like you’re special.”

  “Yeah. It’s like . . . sometimes it’s hard to say no to her. I just feel this stupid need to make her happy.”

  “Me too.”

  It’s weird to be talking about Olivia like this with Kai. It’s always been the other way around—late-night talks with Olivia and me on her bed, whispers about their first date, the stupid texts he sends her, how amazing he is at kissing. But I need to remind myself we’re in the Upside Down now—this is my new normal.

  “Okay,” Kai says. “So then tell me what you like about Jordan.”

  “I’m not gonna tell you that.” I bristle at his words. “That’s personal.” I know I’m being a hypocrite, but I can’t help it.

  “Oh, so is that how this works?” His tone is still light, but I can tell he’s annoyed with me. I would be annoyed with me too. But the truth is I don’t know quite what to say. Obviously, Jordan is hot—astonishingly hot, to borrow Kai’s words—but that’s not why I love him. The reasons I love him are too small on their own—the dimple on his right cheek when he smiles, his perfectly shaped eyebrows, the way he actually got kind of into the musicals we listened to together, how it felt when he pointed at the oak tree in the sidewalk downtown and said it was ours. But added together they form the whole of him, the whole of us—Penny and Jordan. The honest answer is that I love Jordan because I’ve always loved him. I wouldn’t know how not to.

  “He’s a really good person,” I say instead.

  “Of course he’s a good dude. He’s my best friend.” Kai takes a turn onto a back road, and the ride turns bumpy. Dust clouds us from the open sides of the Jeep, and I wave my hand in front of my face. “But fair is fair,” Kai continues. “I want to hear why you like him. There are lots of good dudes out there.”

  “Are there?” I counter. “I don’t know very many.”

  “Okay, our dads not included.”

  “Ha,” I say. “I forgot I told you about that.”

  “Actually, my dad just invited us all to come stay with him at the end of the summer,” Kai says. “Including my mom.”

  I sit up in my seat and bring my legs up under me, Kai’s request about Jordan mercifully pushed aside. “Really? Is she gonna go?”

  “My brother is flying back there from Auburn and he keeps asking my mom to come too. Trying to get the whole fam back together. But she refuses to go. Says she doesn’t want to pretend everything is normal because then my dad gets away with how he treated her, you know?”

  “I kind of love that,” I say. As if I could stan Kai’s mom any more.

  “Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Kai says. “Sorry for the wild subject change. I don’t even know where that came from. You’re just kinda . . . like . . . the only person I’ve ever told this to. That’s weird, right?”

  It’s very weird, and yet somehow it’s not. Sure, Kai and I might not always get along, but in all the ways I would ever seek to destroy him, I think he knows this is sacred. This weird connection between us—our shitty families—is a place we’ve drawn a truce.

  “I think my mom is in love,” I say, remembering our weird interaction in the kitchen.

  “That’s awesome!” Kai says. “I’m happy for her.”

  “Is it?” I stare out the window. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

  “Is it the pancake guy?” Kai asks. “Think about all the pancakes you’ll get out of this.”

  “I guess so,” I say. “Thanks for the optimism.” I turn back to him. “This doesn’t mean that I’m ever going to start liking you.”

  He laughs, harsh and abrupt. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Don’t see you changing your mind anytime soon.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m the most stubborn? Have you ever met yourself?”

  “Pumpkin, you are a million times worse than me.”

  “Don’t call me Pumpkin.”

  “You’re right, wrong holiday. I should keep this Fourth of July–themed. How about Popsicle? Corncob? Weiner?”

  “If you call me Weiner, I will actually jump out of this moving vehicle.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself, Weenie.”

  “I swear I will jump.”

  “Weenie, no!” It almost sounds like he’s calling me sweetie, which makes the whole thing even more annoying. I am so frustrated I want to strangle him, but for some reason I can’t stop laughing.

  He turns the Jeep down Romina’s long driveway, and then we’re there, her cabin tucked into the trees in front of us.

  “This is it,” Kai says. “Showtime.”

  We jump out of the Jeep and start gathering our things together and then Kai grabs my hand. I try to pull away, but
he holds tight, a smile plastered on his face. “They’re watching us.” He motions toward the front of the cabin, and sure enough there are five heads visible through the front window. I feel my stomach tighten with nerves and keep my hand clenched in Kai’s, and then paste on a matching smile of my own. We can do this. Make them jealous. Show them what they’re missing. Everyone forgives a good love story.

  I repeat the words in my head as we walk up the driveway, gritting my teeth to keep the smile on my face. The front door opens and then Jordan is standing there, arms folded. When I see him, it occurs to me suddenly that I successfully avoided answering Kai’s query earlier: Tell me what you like about Jordan. Relief floods through me, but then just as quickly is replaced with something else, something sharp around the edges.

  Because I don’t know why the answer was something I was trying so hard to avoid.

  THEN

  OCTOBER—JUNIOR YEAR

  WE ALL DECIDE TO DRESS like the boys for the Halloween dance. This requires lots of preparation the day of, texting back and forth to make sure they bring their favorite clothes to school. It doesn’t matter that we won’t look sexy in our costumes, because wearing the boys’ clothes is more important than that: it marks our territory. These are our boys, it says. You can’t have them.

  We’re at lunch sorting through everything, the boys pulling sweatshirts and hats and flannels out of their backpacks and scattering them all over the table. Everyone wants to dress up like Jordan—to be the most special—but it’s kind of understood that Olivia will get his clothes. Olivia is always the chosen one.

  Kai pulls his signature beanie off his head and kisses it before setting it down on the table. “All right, who wants it? You guys take good care of my baby.”

  Romina picks it up and hands it to me, her lips quirked. “Penny should dress like you.”

  “Yeah, that would be hilarious!” Katie says. She grabs Danny’s Manchester United jersey off the table and holds it up. “I can be Danny because my boyfriend, Matt, loves this team.”