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Fake Page 15

by Donna Cooner


  I wake with tears on my cheeks. I’m not sure if I’m crying for the loss of Jesse … or for the loss of me.

  “Have you ever talked to someone online you didn’t know in real life?” Jesse asks me in class on Tuesday morning.

  My breath catches in my throat. “Sure. I guess so.”

  “Did you ever meet them?”

  “I don’t think so.” My throat clenches so tight I can barely get the words out. Lingering memories from last night’s dream flicker in and out of my brain, making it hard to look him in the eyes.

  “There’s this girl I’ve been talking to online. Sienna.” He glances away. “But it’s weird. She always has some kind of excuse for why she can’t talk to me on the phone or meet me in person.”

  I open my mouth. Close it again. Then open it again. Nothing comes out.

  “I’m beginning to think there’s something not right about her.”

  “What do you mean?” My face burns and I can feel my fingers gripping the edge of the table in front of us.

  “Maybe she’s not … real.”

  “But you’re talking to someone.” My mind is speeding, careening around corners and squealing through stop signs.

  “Yeah … but who?” He shrugs. “Maybe she’s not who she says she is.”

  “Why would you think that?” A rock falls out of the wall of lies I built. It is all starting to crumble. I can’t stop it.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “She never video chats with me or even talks on the phone. That’s always like a big red flag on all those catfishing shows.”

  “Maybe she’s just busy. Not everyone’s world revolves around you.” I make my face smile so he knows I’m teasing him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  He’s quiet. Then he says, “I know it sounds crazy, but you see those kinds of things happen on TV all the time, right?”

  “I guess …” I make my voice sound doubtful. “But why would someone do that to you?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  I see a glimmer of light. There might be an end to this online charade. Once Jesse asks Sienna out and she says no, it will be over. My plan for revenge on Jesse Santos will be complete. He fell for an invisible girl who was really me—the object of his bullying.

  “Maybe you should force the issue,” I tell him.

  “How?”

  Push him.

  “Ask her out. If she’s faking it, there’s no way she’ll say yes.”

  “And if she does say yes?” he asks.

  She won’t. Trust me.

  In history class, the loudspeaker clicks on and Principal Buckton comes on to make a special announcement.

  “Attention. Attention.” There is a pause and everyone looks up to the speaker on the wall. From it, there comes the sound of someone awkwardly drumming their hands on the desktop. “I have in front of me a list of the winners of this year’s homecoming court.”

  An excited chatter spreads through the class. I see Camila reach for Dezirea’s hand, clutching it tightly.

  The whole student body chooses the homecoming queen and king from the seniors. Juniors, sophomores, and freshmen also get to select a princess and prince for the court from their own respectives classes. Since it’s a popularity contest, it’s never really a surprise who is elected. But there is usually some drama about who the court members bring as their dates. Being the date of a member of royalty is the next best thing to being on the court.

  “Congratulations to our homecoming king, Josiah Brown, and homecoming queen, Divinity Gates.”

  The applause is polite, but not enthusiastic. No one is shocked. Josiah is the quarterback for the football team and Divinity is senior class president, so it just makes sense. Principal Buckton then announces the junior prince, Sean Grier, and junior princess, Kathryn Cho. Again, no surprise.

  “Now, for the sophomores.” The principal clears her throat and I feel the suspense rise. This is the one most of the people in this room care about. Hunter crosses his fingers on both hands and holds them up by his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Sophomore prince is Jesse Santos, and sophomore princess is Dezirea Davis.”

  I’m quiet, but everyone else breaks into applause and cheers. I haven’t heard who Jesse asked to homecoming, but whoever it is will be on cloud nine when they realize it includes a starring role on the homecoming float. Camila hugs Dezirea and they both squeal so loudly no one even hears the names of the freshman prince and princess. Not that it really matters. Several guys congratulate Graham with fervent pats on the back, since everyone knows he’ll be Dezirea’s date.

  “What are you going to wear?” Camila asks Dezirea, and immediately several girls near them start excitedly contributing suggestions.

  “Okay, people.” Mrs. White is facing a losing battle. No one is interested in World War I anymore. Like they ever were. “I realize everyone is excited about all the homecoming festivities, but we still have ten minutes left in class.”

  Groans from the audience.

  Surprisingly, she relents, holding up her open hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. Just this once. Free time until the bell rings, but keep the noise down.”

  My phone buzzes in my bag. When I pull it out, I’m surprised to see a message from Claire. My stomach drops. Why is she writing to me? Did she stumble upon Sienna’s profile on ChitChat? I click open the message, cringing.

  CLAIRE: OMG. THE DUMBEST THING HAPPENED. MY MOM DECIDED I HAVE TO TAKE A TOUR OF YOUR HIGH SCHOOL. TOMORROW!

  I stare down at the screen, dazed. Then I reread the text.

  No. No. Noooooo. This is almost worse than Claire finding out about Sienna. Worse than her coming to my house. Claire can’t possibly show up at my school. It would ruin everything. Everything.

  I think fast and write back.

  ME: THAT WOULD BE A WASTE OF TIME. IT’S REALLY NOT YOUR SCENE.

  CLAIRE: I KNOW, BUT MY MOM’S JUST NOT GETTING IT! SHE’S BEING REALLY STRICT ABOUT IT. SHE CALLED THE SCHOOL AND THEY SAID THIS GIRL NAMED DIVINITY COULD SHOW ME AROUND.

  I’m horrified. Divinity, as the senior class president, does give all the tours. This is actually happening. My worlds are colliding.

  ME: YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO IT, ARE YOU?????

  CLAIRE: I DON’T WANT TO, BUT …

  I’m frozen in my seat.

  But, what??? Think. Think. Think.

  ME: MAYBE YOU COULD SAY YOU’RE SICK? TO GET OUT OF IT?

  CLAIRE: MY MOM WON’T BUY THAT. ANYWAY, I MIGHT AS WELL GET IT OVER WITH.

  I’m trembling. I can’t stop her. She’s going to come here. The horrifying reality sinks in. I need to be there to meet her, of course. I need to run interference and find a way to avoid having Claire bump into anyone that Sienna’s talked to on ChitChat. Divinity is safe—she exists in a totally different ChitChat world. She doesn’t know Sienna. But is there a way to have it only be Divinity that Claire sees?

  There’s one last desperate thing I can do.

  ME: YOU KNOW IT HAS TO BE AFTER SCHOOL, RIGHT?

  CLAIRE: WHY?

  ME: TOURS FOR NEW STUDENTS ARE ONLY AFTER SCHOOL SO IT DOESN’T INTERRUPT CLASSES.

  It’s a total lie, of course. I hold my breath, hoping she won’t question me, even though it doesn’t make any sense.

  CLAIRE: OK. 4 O’CLOCK?

  That’s not late enough.

  ME: MAKE IT 4:30.

  The hallways will be emptied out by then. If she has to show up, that’s the best possible time. And I’ll just ask Divinity to meet Claire then; she’s always hanging around after school doing work in the student government office, so it won’t be a big deal for her.

  CLAIRE: OK. SHOULD I MEET YOU OUT FRONT?

  That’s way too public. The bell rings then and I type back quickly.

  ME: I’LL TEXT YOU LATER ABOUT WHERE TO MEET.

  CLAIRE: OK. IT WILL BE GREAT TO SEE A FAMILIAR FACE!

  I just hope no one re
cognizes YOUR face, I think. I stand up, my stomach clenching. I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off, but I have to try.

  The next day, at 4:30 p.m., I meet Claire at the side door that leads into an empty hallway. She followed my secret-agent-like directions perfectly to the most obscure entrance in the whole building. When I see her standing there, my heart does a little dive right into the pit of my stomach. I smile shakily at her and give a weak wave. I didn’t sleep at all last night.

  “Hey,” I say, opening the door for us and glancing around warily. No one is here. At least, for now.

  “Maisie,” Claire squeals, grabbing me in a hug with one arm and holding her Venti Starbucks Frappuccino in her free hand. Her thick blonde hair is in a ballerina bun wrapped in winter white fabric that exactly matches her wool swing coat.

  As we walk down the empty hallway, Claire does a little shrug to get out of her coat. Underneath, she wears a thick cable-knit sweater in the same shade of white. Her legs look long and lean, her skinny jeans tucked into brown leather riding boots. I feel strangely proud. This is exactly how Sienna would dress.

  “So you really didn’t have to do this,” Claire tells me when we reach my locker.

  Believe me, I didn’t want to.

  “No problem.” I take her coat, fold it carefully, and store it in my locker. Then I take another quick look around to see if the coast is clear. So far, so good. This really is the best possible day—and time of day—Claire could have come. The football team is practicing for the big game, so there’s no way Claire will run into Jesse. And everyone else is out decorating floats and buying costumes for the cosplay-themed dance. But I still need to be on high alert.

  “So I still can’t believe I’m going to be a comic book character!” Claire is saying. “That is so cool. I might even make it my profile pic. Can you show me what you’ve done so far?”

  I frown. I forgot all about Claire’s picture. “I’m—um, I’m sorry.” I scramble for a response. “I can’t really show you anything until I’m absolutely sure it’s ready. Otherwise, I feel my inspiration escape into the air.”

  “Well, that can’t happen,” Claire says firmly. “Don’t worry. I can wait.”

  I look down the hall toward the student government office. Empty. I give a big sigh of relief. “Let’s go this way,” I say.

  Divinity meets us outside the office. I watch her expression carefully as we approach her to see if she might, somehow, still recognize “Sienna” from ChitChat. But Divinity’s face shows no signs of recognition. A natural at public relations, she greets Claire with a smile and a quick handshake.

  “I’m so sorry,” Divinity begins. “This is not the best day to get a real sense of Fort Collins High School,” she says, walking us toward the library. “Everyone is caught up in homecoming fever. There’s no one around.”

  That’s the idea.

  We head down the deserted science hallway and out toward the choir room with Divinity narrating as we go. “These are the foreign languages classrooms … This is the theater area …”

  Suddenly, the side doors pop open and Dezirea comes in with two other girls from the cheerleading squad, laughing and talking.

  Dezirea.

  My heart thuds.

  Oh, no. No. No. No.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to be around.

  If Dezirea sees “Sienna,” it’s all over.

  I grab Claire’s arm and yank her into the computer room.

  “Hey,” Claire says, rubbing her arm and staring at me like I’m crazy.

  Dezirea and the other two girls pass by without noticing us. I let out a breath.

  “What’s going on?” Claire asks me, but I’m too shaken up to answer.

  Divinity follows us into the computer room and gives me a curious look. “Why did you come in here?” she asks me.

  “I thought Claire might be interested in our coding class, so just wanted to make sure she saw the computer lab,” I invent. Lame, but it seems to work.

  Divinity smiles and nods.

  Claire looks bored, glancing around briefly. “So it pretty much looks like every other computer classroom,” she says, and she’s right.

  I glance out the door toward the office. The hall is empty. “We’re probably about finished here,” I say, trying to hurry things along. “As you can see, there’s nothing special about Fort Collins High School. It’s probably a lot like your school, but without all your friends.”

  Divinity looks at me like I just stabbed her in the heart. “No way, Maisie. Fort Collins High is the best school in the world!”

  She’s the senior class president. She has to say that.

  Divinity leads us back outside and out toward the senior lockers. I’m even more on edge than I was before, constantly checking over my shoulder in case Dezirea—or anyone else—should appear. We have to get out of here. Now.

  Claire pauses to read the homecoming posters lining the windows. “It’s so cool that Lexi Singh is coming to homecoming. And the cosplay masquerade theme is brilliant.”

  Divinity jumps on Claire’s first positive reaction. “The theme was my idea,” she says proudly. “And having Lexi actually at the dance?” She pauses and puts a hand over her heart. “That’s a dream come true.”

  I agree with Divinity, but I’m too anxious to start talking about Lexi. I need to hustle Claire off school grounds before any other kids show up.

  “Come on,” I tell Claire, grabbing her arm and leading her ahead.

  “Wait.” Divinity stops suddenly and I bump into her back. “I have a great idea.”

  Claire and I look at her curiously.

  “You could come to the dance this Friday night!” Divinity says to Claire with a big grin.

  Noooooo. No. No. No.

  “She can’t do that.” I make myself shake my head and look as sorry as possible. “Only students can attend.”

  “But I can give you an invitation,” Divinity says helpfully. “We made up some special passes because it’s homecoming, and I have a couple left. Then you can actually meet some people here and see what we’re really like.”

  “Great idea.” Claire beams at her.

  I feel the panic bubbling up inside me. Divinity digs around in her backpack, then proudly hands over a blue cardstock invitation with the words COSPLAY MASQUERADE printed in silver letters at the top.

  “Here you go,” she says. “I hope to see you there.”

  “Me too.” Claire puts the invitation in her purse. I can see the blue edge sticking out of the top, mocking me.

  My stomach twists into a ball. I have to fix this. Now.

  The line between lying and stealing is a thread. I cross it without another thought. When Claire hugs Divinity good-bye, I slip the invitation out of Claire’s bag and slide it into my back pocket. Even if Claire shows up at the dance, she won’t be able to get inside.

  Outside, I lean against my car, watching Claire pull out of the parking lot, my hand on my pounding chest. My control is slipping away. This whole Sienna lie has gotten much bigger than I wanted.

  I pull out the homecoming invitation from my pocket and tear it in half.

  Who have I become? A hero or a villain?

  CHITCHAT DIRECT MESSAGE

  JESSE: CONGRATULATIONS!

  SIENNA: ??

  JESSE: YOU ARE TALKING TO THE SOPHOMORE HOMECOMING PRINCE.

  JESSE: ME

  SIENNA: WOW! I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW A ROYAL.

  JESSE: THERE’S A PARADE AFTER SCHOOL TOMORROW TO KICK OFF HOMECOMING WEEKEND. I’M ON THE FLOAT AND EVERYTHING.

  SIENNA: IMPRESSIVE.

  JESSE: I KNOW IT’S LAST MINUTE … *TAKING A DEEP BREATH*

  JESSE: MAYBE YOU COULD COME AND BE UP THERE WITH ME? THERE WOULD BE A PLACE FOR YOU TO SIT BESIDE ME.

  My heart races. This is where Sienna says no, Jesse is crushed, and Sienna disappears forever. The game is over.

  JESSE: SAY SOMETHING. ANYTHING.

 
; The dark side whispers in my ear.

  This is an opportunity I never could have imagined. A parade. How much more public can you get? Even though I didn’t know it was coming, it’s the ending I need for this story. Jesse Santos’s downfall will play out in front of the world, and everyone will finally see he’s no better than the rest of us.

  JESSE: THIS IS ME ASKING YOU OUT.

  All my deception has led up to this one sentence typed across my screen. It should feel different. More triumphant.

  SIENNA: LIKE A DATE?

  JESSE: I WAS HOPING.

  I can’t believe I’m really going to do this, but it’s time to see if he is telling the truth or just stringing me—I mean Sienna—along. It worked with Dezirea, and now it’s time for the true test. I’m ready.

  SIENNA: YES.

  JESSE: SERIOUSLY????????

  SIENNA: YES.

  JESSE: IN REAL LIFE????

  SIENNA: YES.

  JESSE: AWESOME. I TOLD EVERYONE ABOUT YOU. MY FRIENDS ARE EXCITED TO MEET YOU.

  SIENNA: I’LL MEET YOU AT THE PARADE. CAN’T WAIT.

  On Thursday after school, Mountain Avenue and Mason Street are blocked off from traffic. People stream toward the parade route, carrying lawn chairs and blankets. Traffic officers direct everyone who’s in the parade to the Mountain Avenue intersection, where the lineup is getting organized. Two teachers with huge badges hanging from their necks sit behind the table, patiently checking in parade participants.

  I sit on a cold bench in a striped blue skirt listening to the sound of the band warming up—something with a lot of drums. The crisp wind tangles my hair around my face, but the sky is bright with not a sign of a cloud. The fall colors swirl around the street in clumps of orange, red, and yellow leaves. It’s the kind of day that should smell like popcorn and pumpkins. My skirt is too short and I tug the hem of it down toward my knees for the fiftieth time, looking around nervously. But everyone is focused on getting ready for the start of the parade and couldn’t care less if I’m there or not.

  Behind the school banner that signals the start of the parade, the cheerleading squad warms up their routine, stepping and spinning on the street. Camila barks orders like a drill sergeant and the girls respond with perfect synchronization, pom-poms shaking enthusiastically. My phone buzzes in my lap.

 

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