The Truth About Faking

by Leigh Talbert Moore

He pauses and glances around at all of us. I notice his eyes rest on Ms. Jackson. “You see, I’m not interested in Jackie like that,” he says directly to her.

  Then he looks at Mr. Bryant. “I wasn’t planning a public announcement, but well, the thing is… I’m gay.”

  Fourteen

  The moment Ricky says the two words that clear my mom’s name, relief hits me so hard, I nearly laugh out loud. Instead I shoot a glance at Ms. Jackson. Her face has gone red and her eyes are as wide as a cartoon character’s. But beside her, Mrs. Perkins is just the opposite. Her eyes are little slits like a snake’s, and I imagine she’s silently cursing the fact that once again my mom has slipped through her clutches. When Mr. Bowden stands to dismiss the congregation, she jumps to her feet.

  “That is not the end of this,” she shouts. My eyes fly to my mom. Her jaw is set, and now she looks ready to fight. I look at Ricky, and his face says this is exactly what he expected to happen.

  “I think we can discuss how to handle this in executive session, Crystal,” Mr. Bowden says, clearing his throat. “Since clearly nothing inappropriate was going on.”

  “Nothing inappropriate!” Mrs. Perkins cries. “Every bit of this is inappropriate! From her sexually charged avocation, to this. Jackie’s brought this sin into our midst. She opened the door to this perversion, brought it around our children! And as our pastor’s wife, this cannot go unaddressed.”

  “Unaddressed?” Mrs. Bender jumps to her feet. “And just how do you want it addressed, Crystal? Jackie’s done nothing wrong, and this young man doesn’t even attend our church. But you’ve just been waiting for a reason to attack her, haven’t you? To put Ted in charge.”

  “If Ted were in charge, nothing like this would have ever occurred,” she says. “Now we have this blemish on our church.”

  I glance at Mom. She’s looking down and her eyes have closed, but Ricky simply smiles. My throat feels all tight and painful. I mean, sure, Ricky doesn’t go to our church, and I guess some people here think how he lives is wrong. But he’s always been sweet around me. I don’t feel like I’ve been subjected to anything.

  “If you ask me, she’s the blemish,” Mrs. B. mutters.

  “Ladies,” Mr. Bryant’s voice cuts through them all. “The issue has been resolved, and everyone is free to leave. Now.”

  He fixes his eyes on Mrs. Perkins. She presses her lips into a tight line as she sits down again, but her cover is blown. Now everyone knows she’d been out to get my mom, to replace my dad with her husband. She wanted Ricky to be the story of the night, but in the end, it’s the truth about her that takes center stage.

  The congregation rises and starts slipping out of the pews, making their way to the back amidst a low murmur. Mrs. Bender touches my arm and motions for me to come with her. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens next, if Mom’ll even talk about it.

  The Benders drop me off at my house, and the only thing I can think about is telling Jason. I need to talk to him anyway, to make him understand how I feel and what happened with Trent. I grab my phone and send a text.

  U there?

  I wait several seconds, then a whistle.

  What.

  Mom cleared. Ricky gay.

  No way.

  Way.

  Am glad. U OK?

  Need to talk. Creek?

  No.

  Pain tightens in my chest when I read his response.

  Need to explain.

  Night, HD

  Tomorrow.

  I put my phone away and lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. Tears sting in my eyes as I imagine what he must be thinking. That I’m just some flaky chick who’s been playing games with him since the day we met. I have to make him understand what’s really happening.

  But what is really happening? Why does Trent care so much about talking to me now, and why do I feel like I need to listen? Is it because he used to be my hottie-future-husband? My hero? I don’t owe him anything. Do I? I bite my lip and remember us talking at the creek that night about his mom and her searching his room, his dad and him not feeling like he belonged. I can’t just turn my back on him. Can I?

  I breathe deeply and focus on tomorrow. Jason and I have talked about so many things before. I’m sure I can explain this to him as well. He just needs to listen to me. And now that this business with Mom is settled, there’ll be no more distractions, nothing to get us off track.

  Ricky’s not at our house the next morning. I walk into the kitchen and look around, but for the first time in almost a year, he’s absent. It’s funny. I never dreamed I’d miss him, but now that I know the truth, that he was never a threat to my family, I wish he was here. He was funny and sweet to me. He was brave, and he set the record straight for Mom, even thought it meant a big, public display in front of a bunch of strangers—a few of which were hostile. I feel bad for being so mean to him yesterday morning, and I wish I could say I’m sorry. I didn’t know it’d be the last time I’d see him.

  I see the door to Mom’s office is open, so I walk over and look inside. She’s sitting in a chair holding a cup of tea.

  “Mom?” I ask stepping around the door. “Hey.”

  She glances up and gives me a small smile. “Hi, Harley,” she says softly.

  I smile back and sit beside her. She doesn’t speak, but she reaches over and smoothes my hair. The last time I spoke to her, we were shouting, too.

  “I didn’t hear you come in last night,” I say. “Dad came in, but he was alone.”

  She nods and sips her tea. “I needed to discuss how we’d finish the semester with Ricky.”

  “It’s weird not having him here. What’s going to happen now?”

  “He’ll probably just do his last few sessions at the school in Glennville. It’s a little awkward for him coming here now.”

  I nod and give her a grin. “Mrs. Perkins really showed her true colors last night, didn’t she?”

  Mom doesn’t smile. “A lot of people agree with her.”

  “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “It’s a very divisive issue, Harley,” she says, smoothing my hair again.

  I’m quiet a moment, and I think of Dad reading that Issues book. I look at her sitting there, legs crossed, hair swept back in a long pony tail.

  “Why didn’t you just tell the elders Ricky was gay?”

  She smiles at me like I’m very young. “He asked me not to tell anyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, he had his reasons.” Then she laughs softly. “I think he didn’t want to cause any conflicts for your dad at church if it could be avoided.”

  “That really worked out.” But I’m not satisfied with her answer. “You could’ve told them it was a secret—just to get yourself off the hook.”

  Mom shakes her head. “Ricky was struggling with telling his own family. I couldn’t betray his trust like that.”

  I look down at the floor. “But by not telling, Dad could’ve lost his job. And we might’ve had to move-”

  “Daddy wouldn’t have lost his job.” Mom sighs. “And I’m sorry you were worried. But there are some things you’re too young to understand, Harley.”

  That makes me angry, and I look straight at her. “You say that, but it’s not true. I understand a lot. And you did choose him over us.”

  “I didn’t choose anyone. Your daddy and I were trying to decide what was best.”

  “Whether it was better that people thought you were having an affair? So being gay’s worse than adultery now?”

  Mom just looks at me. Her expression is weary, and I don’t want to argue with her. But I still don’t understand her staying silent.

  “Ricky only had a few weeks left in his training,” she says softly. “And then he’d be gone.”

  I can tell by her tone she’s trying to diffuse our disagreement, but I’m not finished.

  “You could’ve told me,” I say. “You never tell me things.”

  “Oh, Harley,” sh
e sighs. “It would’ve been unfair to burden you with all that. And I do tell you things.”

  I hear Shelly’s horn beeping, and I give up this round. But her words aren’t true. She’s kept me at arm’s distance since Ricky arrived, and I feel like there’s a lot I still don’t know. We aren’t finished here, but I have to get to school.

  Shelly’s pouty when I got in the car. I flop into the seat and pull my bag onto my lap wondering if she’s heard the news. I would think it’d be all over town by now, and I half expect her to be excited, ready for me to fill in all the details.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask.

  She breathes loudly. “Jason.”

  “What about Jason?”

  “He cancelled our date Friday.” Shelly pokes her lip out and drives slowly. I try to think of something to say. Other than Yay!

  “Did he say why?”

  “Just… he thinks things are moving too fast.”

  “Well,” I search for something reassuring. “At least you only went out a few times. It’s not like you were super serious, right?”

  “I guess,” she sighs. We’re at school, and Shelly’s slowly circling the parking lot. “Now what’ll I do Friday?”

  Just then Reagan walks by with her little brother Aaron. As they pass, I think about how Aaron always used to hang around when we went to Reagan’s house as kids, and how he always made me laugh. He’s only a sophomore, but he’s got a fall birthday so he’s closer to our age. We’ve lost touch, and watching him, I try to decide if he’s gotten taller. Something’s changed. He seems more confident or something, and as we climb out of Shelly’s car, he looks back and smiles at her. My eyebrows go up, and I look at my friend. He’s no Jason, but that’s a great smile.

  Shelly perks up. “Who’s that?”

  “Aaron? You remember. Reagan’s little brother?”

  “I thought he had braces.”

  I do a double-take. “That’s what’s different! He must’ve got them off.” I remember that feeling—freedom!

  “See ya later, Harley!” She skips ahead to catch up with Reagan and her newly transformed little brother.

  “Assertiveness, pass,” I quietly note as I follow them toward the building. “And that might be a record.”

  Just then I hear someone hurrying to catch up with me and turn back. It’s Jason, and my heart does a flip.

  “Hey,” he says, slowing down to walk with me.

  “Hey,” I say, remembering to breathe.

  “So Ricky’s gay,” he says. “Wow.”

  “I know! I feel like, so blind.”

  “Well, I never expected it, but I know you’re glad it’s over.”

  His eyes meet mine, and my knees go weak.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  We walk a little further in silence. Now I feel so awkward, but I can’t be weird around Jason. I have to talk to him about everything. I look up and see Trent going into his building and wonder if Jason sees him, too.

  “So you’re really going out with him again?” Yep. Jason sees him too.

  I shrug. “It’s not like a date or anything.”

  He stops and catches my arm. “Then what is it?”

  He’s frustrated, and that pain is in my chest again. I don’t know what to say, and standing here with him, I don’t want to be with anyone else ever. Not for any amount of time, like we agreed way back on that very first day at lunch.

  “It’s nothing,” I stammer. “I mean, it was so confusing. He said he needs to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know. I was super-mad at him after all that stuff happened with Mom, but he apologized. Then he gave me this flower…”

  Jason’s eyes narrow, and I can’t believe I just said that. Trent giving me a flower is like the worst thing I could say. It sounds like I still care about him, and I so don’t. At least not the way I care about Jason.

  He turns and we start walking again. He doesn’t say a word, and I can’t think of a thing to say either. So much for no weirdness.

  “I’m not going out with Shelly anymore,” he finally says.

  “She told me.”

  We walk a little further in silence. I see his jaw clench, then he finally speaks again. “OK, well, I gotta get to class.”

  “Wait.” I catch his arm. “It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “Then don’t go.”

  I hesitate. “But it seems really important to him.”

  “Then do what you want, Harley.” He shakes my hand off his arm and turns to leave. “Go out with him.”

  “Jason. Wait!”

  But he doesn’t look at me again, and it hurts so bad to see him walk away. I hug my books tighter against my stomach. My reasons are all stupid and lame, and if I can’t explain to myself why I didn’t tell Trent no, why should I expect Jason to understand? He’s just understood so much. I guess I thought he would again. And I guess that’s my problem. Assertiveness fail.

  Jason disappears around the corner, and when I blink down, two tears hit my cheeks.

  From the start, my coffee non-date with Trent is like all our other actual dates. We meet up at the coffee shop, and he’s extremely polite as always. He apparently comes here a lot because he knows exactly what to order and even picks out a caramel macchiato for me that he says will make me camp out for the shop to open tomorrow.

  “I never knew you were such a coffee bean,” I say, as I sip the creamy drink. It really is delicious, and I just don’t even want to know how many calories are in it.

  “Good coffee is like good… um—”

  “Ultimate Frisbee?”

  He laughs. “Better. And by the way, I really like that about you.”

  “What?”

  “You’re funny.” He looks down, then he looks at me more serious. “But more than that. You care about other people and helping them find a way to belong.”

  I don’t know if that’s true, but okay. I glance around the shop. It’s very snug and full of yellow light. Several skinny-legged tables and chairs are arranged by the window in the front, and in the back are several large, velvety armchairs with smaller tables positioned around them.

  It’s more a place where college kids hang out, as all our friends tend to go to the Shadow Freeze, the ice cream and burger joint a half-mile up the road. Trent orders a skinny latte for himself, which doesn’t seem fair since guys have much higher metabolisms than girls, and then he takes my arm. He escorts me to a plush, velvet couch in the back that has a long table in front of it. I sit on the couch, and he pulls up a stool to sit across from me.

  “This better?” he smiles.

  “It’s great,” I smile back at him. And not so long ago it would’ve been a dream come true, but now all I can think about is Jason.

  He studies the menu, and I study his face. He really does have a sweet little mouth. It’s kind of shiny like he uses lip gloss or something. And as usual, he’s dressed just so. I like the shirt he’s wearing. Most guys don’t go for madras, but Trent looks very fashionable in it with his jeans.

  “You always dress really well,” I say.

  “Hey, thanks,” he smiles. “You too. I like the braids.”

  I can’t believe he actually noticed for once. “Thanks.”

  “Your hair’s so shiny,” he says. “Do you use a special conditioner?”

  “No. Just whatever’s on sale.”

  We’re quiet again, and a barista stops at our table. She asks if we want any biscotti or muffins, but I shake my head emphatically. Trent gets shortbread, and I watch as he breaks it into small pieces. I’m ready to get to the bottom of whatever he has to tell me, but first I excuse myself to go to the restroom.

  As I walk back, I notice he’s texting again. He’s all happy like before, and whatever he’s reading must be super-funny because he’s almost snorting.

  “Hey,” I say.

  He jumps and puts his phone away. “Hey.”

  “Who was that?” I ask. He’d better
not start with all the secretive texting, or I’m taking off.

  “Oh… it’s just… I get this joke of the day thing. I hadn’t checked it today.”

  “Really.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ll put it up.”

  I remember running into Stephanie in the bathroom at school and her asking about us dating. I wonder if she’s the mysterious texter. If she’s been sending him messages all along. Whatever he claims, he looked really sad when they broke up, so it’s possible she’s trying to get back with him. Every few minutes I hear the whisper of his phone vibrating. He ignores it and tries to make small talk.

  “I’m glad all that stuff worked out with your mom,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I say, distracted by his humming phone.

  “And I really do feel bad my mom made all that trouble. It wasn’t cool.”

  “It’s not your fault, and you said she’d kind of put you through it.”

  He nods, looking embarrassed. “Right. I forgot.”

  “You can’t help how your parents act.”

  He looks at me, and for a split second it seems like he’s about to say something. Instead he takes a bite of shortbread. I sip my rich drink. Then he laughs and reaches across the table.

  “You’ve got foam.”

  I jump and wipe my nose with one of the paper napkins on the table. “How embarrassing.”

  “Happens to the best of us!”

  I smile and watch him dunk a piece of cookie in his latte. He puts it in his mouth and smiles back, raising his eyebrows. I study his perfect hair, his ideal fashion sense, his great taste. All at once, I have the strangest thought about my former-future-husband. What if Trent isn’t anybody’s former-future-husband? At least not in the way you’d expect.

  I shake my head and look at my drink. The caramel clings to the edges of my cup, and I think of how he and Stephanie had always looked way intense. I remember them holding hands and leaning against her locker, her smiling up in his face, their noses almost touching. It was a sight that used to make me ache with longing.

  Stephanie Miller would never spend that much time in a platonic relationship. At least, I don’t think she would. I take another sip and look back up at him. He’s finished the shortbread and almost his coffee, too. Then he glances up at me and smiles.