The Fine Art of Pretending

by Rachel Harris

  “Gentlemen, I have an announcement.”

  The second Carlos and Justin enter the room, Drew hops off the top bunk. At this rate, the whole campground will know by dinner. He already told people in the parking lot, including Adam, which was awkward, to be honest, and Lauren, which made it all worth it. And now, without giving the guys a chance to ask what the news is, he announces, “Brandon and Aly are going out.”

  “Hooking up,” I clarify from my mildew-infested bed. Based on their reactions, it falls on deaf ears.

  Carlos stops in the center of the cabin. “Say what?” he asks, setting his guitar on the floor.

  Justin tosses his bag on an empty bunk and sits next to me. “You’re joking, right?”

  I look him in the eye, then look to Carlos, and feel the blood begin to boil. I’m not really with her, but two of my closest friends acting as if the idea is impossible pisses me off. “And what the hell’s wrong with Aly?”

  “Nothing, man,” Justin says, throwing his palms in the air. “Aly’s incredible. Hot, too.” He smirks like the cocky son of a bitch he is, and it takes everything in me not to remove it from his face. “But what happened to her being a Commitment? You say you don’t want a relationship, but then go and ask out their damn spokesperson?” Justin glances over at Carlos, who nods in agreement. “What gives?”

  Behind him, Drew subtly shakes his head.

  We’ve been friends long enough for him to know me. To sense the anger I keep bottled up raging just beneath the surface. I draw in a slow, controlled breath and let it out.

  I get what my friends are saying. After my dad died and I saw what that did to my mom, I vowed I’d never fall in love or lose myself in a girl. And other than Justin’s one failed relationship freshman year, he’s always lived by the same creed. Together, we pretty much wrote the book on dating fast and furious, and Carlos is far from a serial monogamist. It’s not that they have anything against Aly, just what me being with her represents. I get it. Their reaction makes sense. And it’s the truth because Aly and I aren’t really together.

  But I still don’t like it.

  “You’re right,” I say. “We did decide Aly is a Commitment, but this summer she changed.” Getting through that with a straight face takes a fucking miracle. “She says she just wants to enjoy her senior year and keep things casual. We have fun hanging out, so we decided to go with it and see what happens.”

  Drew beams like he’s a proud father at a championship game. He’s still not buying the “casual” part. Carlos nods rhythmically, an impressed smile crossing his face, and Justin tugs on his ear, his expression a weird mix of confusion and anger. But it’s clear they all buy the story. I lean my back against the wall and exhale.

  Carlos leans over and punches my shoulder. “Never would’ve guessed Aly was a closet Casual, but hey, what do I know?”

  “Yeah, if you know what you’re getting yourself into, that’s great.” Justin gives me a thin-lipped smile. “Aly’s awesome.”

  “I know.” It’s the first truthful thing I’ve said all day.

  Justin stands and heads for the door. “I’m gonna go check this place out. I’ll catch y’all later, all right?” He pushes open the door without looking back, and Drew raises his eyebrows. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Justin was jealous.

  Fine, let him be. But he’s not going anywhere near Aly when this experiment is over.

  I check my watch, wondering if she’s here yet. If my friends are any indication, this week is going to be interesting.

  ALY

  KARA’S DEATH MOBILE, 2:15 p.m.

  Riding in Kara’s car is a little like playing Russian roulette. You know it’s a matter of when—not if—an accident will occur, but you’re betting on it not being today. Or on your side of the vehicle.

  My head rattles against the passenger-side window as Kara screeches across three lanes of traffic. From the backseat, Gabi screams over the music, “Spill it, girl!”

  By the time Kara picked me up, after taking forever to pack her five color-coordinated pieces of luggage, we were already running late. But my friends didn’t care. They demanded details. The only way to get Kara driving was by promising to tell all once we got on the road.

  “Don’t even tell us he didn’t notice the makeover,” Kara says, accelerating through a yellow light. “He’s a guy with two functioning eyeballs. He noticed.”

  “No, you’re right,” I say, gnawing on my lip. “He did.”

  Brandon noticed the second he walked through my bedroom door, but not in the way Kara thinks. The big-brother vibe radiated off him all night, and I’m sure his protective Superman persona was the only reason he agreed to our fake hookup.

  But hey, at least he went for it.

  Gabi presses her face between our headrests and grins. “So did his tongue hang out? Did he go all googley-eyed? Spill it, girl, because if you don’t, you know I’ll just call Brandon.”

  The scary thing is I don’t doubt that for a second. I twist in my seat, unable to look at either of them as I tell the lie. I went back and forth all night on if I should tell them the truth. Brandon said it was my call. But I just can’t. Gabi and Kara were cool about my makeover, but pretending a hookup to get guys to notice me sounds like a teen movie gone bad.

  “Actually,” I say, focusing intently on the road ahead, “he asked me out.”

  Kara stomps on her brake twenty feet before the stop sign. “I freaking knew it! Didn’t I tell you? Guys and girls can’t be friends. The sex part always gets in the way.”

  When Harry Met Sally logic aside, a shiver rolls down my spine at the image those words put in my mind. I’m a proud, card-carrying virgin, but I’d be lying (and I’ve already had enough of that today) if I said I never thought about what it would be like to make out with Brandon. According to the rumor mill, he’s quite talented in that department.

  I shake my head.

  Eye on the prize, Aly. Justin, Justin, Justin.

  “Didn’t I tell you Brandon would notice?” Gabi folds her arms on the back of the seat and smirks. “I bet he figured if he didn’t scoop you up now, someone like Justin would.”

  I nearly choke on my tongue. Nodding, I dig through my empty purse, trying to hide my discomfort. I hate lying to my friends. But the alternative is the truth, and that’s way too embarrassing. I probably should’ve driven with Mom. Her catering company, the Sassy Gourmet, is in charge of the kitchen this week. But getting a ride with Mommy definitely didn’t feel very Casual-like. Plus, I’d have had to tell the girls eventually.

  Now that I had, it’s time for a subject change.

  “You know, Gabi, with me and Brandon hooking up, we’re gonna be spending even more time together. And, since Brandon’s good friends with Carlos, he’ll probably be hanging around a lot more, too.”

  Gabi leans back in her seat with a growl, and I glance over at Kara, who immediately jumps on the new topic. Gotta love that girl and her never-ending matchmaker ways. “Hey, that’s right! Now, Gabi, do we need to go over the fine art of flirting again? Let’s see, step one—when a boy smiles at you, it’s okay to smile back.”

  I pull down my visor and see Gabi flip us off in the mirror. We’ve been trying for the last six months to get her to admit she likes Carlos. It’s obvious they’re into each other, and they flirt constantly. Unfortunately for Carlos, there’s the pesky detail of Gabi refusing to date high-school boys. She says it’s too expected. But she doesn’t date that many college guys either. Gabi’s comfortable being on her own—a concept that boggles my mind.

  “Maybe I’m just not into him,” she stubbornly says from the back seat. “You ever think about that?”

  Kara adjusts her rearview mirror to see Gabi better. It’s not like she needs it to see the road or anything. I immediately grab the buckle of my seatbelt, ensuring it’s secure. “So you’re saying you don’t think he’s hot?” she asks.

  Gabi crosses her arms and slides further down in her seat. “I r
efuse to answer the question on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”

  “He likes you, Gabi,” I say, closing my visor and turning to face her. “And we know you think he’s cute. His cuteness isn’t actually up for debate—it’s a fact. So when are you gonna give the poor boy a chance?”

  “Never!” She slams her hand against the back of my seat. “Look, besides the fact that he’s still in high school, his family goes to our church. Wouldn’t that just make my mother’s freaking day?”

  Gabi and her mom are like oil and water. Ms. Avila rides Gabi about her clothes, her hair, and how she thinks a young lady should act, and Gabi loves finding creative ways to make Mom grab for the rosary beads.

  Kara and I exchange a smirk but drop it for now. We switch to safer topics, such as how far Lauren Hays will push the rule against string bikinis, and all talk of me hooking up with Brandon is safely averted. Ten miles later, the sign for Cypress Lake comes into view.

  “Fairwood Academy,” I whisper, my insides starting to shake. “Prepare to meet the new Aly.”

  BRANDON

  DINING HALL, 5:40 p.m.

  My stomach rumbles as I eye the long table of food. I shift my gaze to the large clock on the wall, note the twenty minutes remaining until dinner, and curse myself for not packing a few protein bars. Clearly, the trip organizers do not understand the realities of the teenage male stomach.

  To distract myself, I scan the crowded hall for Aly and end up spotting her mom. I forgot she was in charge of the kitchen this week. Mrs. Reed smiles and looks around, then points to the tray of cookies in front of her, motioning me over. I tell the guys I’ll be back and stealthily cross the room.

  It pays to have friends in high places.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she whispers, sliding me a handful of cookies under the table. “I swear I could hear that stomach of yours growling all the way over here. Now shoo before I get in trouble for playing favorites.” I give her a quick hug and shove a cookie in my mouth. Pocketing the rest, I make my way back across the room.

  “Aw, yeah! Using hookup status to snag us some food,” Carlos says, snatching a cookie from my hand. “I knew being friends with you would pay off eventually.”

  I glance back at the table, but Mrs. Reed must have returned to the kitchen. She didn’t treat me any differently, so Aly must not have told her about our upgraded hookup status yet. The term curls my mouth as I inhale another cookie. Everything about it feels wrong when it comes to Aly. She wants more, deserves more, than a casual hookup. I know it; now I just need to get her to realize it. Preferably before Homecoming.

  As soon as Justin sees the new post-makeover Aly, his view on her being a Commitment is gonna go straight through the window. He’ll be more likely to buy us hooking up, but it’ll also put her on his radar. I’d prefer if that never happened.

  I look at the cookie I was prepared to devour and hand it over to Drew, narrowing my eyes as I scan the crowd. At least for now, Aly is taken, and as strange as it is that it’s by me, I’ll be damned if I let Justin’s hands get anywhere near her.

  Shaking off the thought, I growl, “Let’s grab a table.” By now, almost the entire senior class has arrived and the room is filling up. Shouting over the mob, I tell Drew, “We need a table for eight. Kara has a new victim.”

  “Make that nine.” Justin’s voice carries across the room, and I turn and watch him saunter over with a tall, curvy blonde. “Guys, you know Lauren.”

  The arm wrapped around her thin waist says he’s clearly over whatever bothered him earlier. There’s nothing a little female companionship can’t solve—that’s Justin’s M.O.

  But for the first time this summer, I’m glad to see Lauren. Being glued to Justin’s hip puts a major cramp in Aly’s plan, and for that, I could almost kiss her. It’s also good to see Lauren preoccupied. Maybe after Drew told her about Aly and me, she finally took the hint.

  Lauren’s mouth curves with a flirty smile. “Hey there, Brandon.”

  Guess not.

  “Hey,” I say, turning back to the door, looking for Aly again. Where the hell is she?

  Our group takes their seats at an empty table. Carlos grabs the chair next to mine, spins it around and straddles it, and says, “So, now that you’re dating Aly, you gonna lay some groundwork with Gabi for me or what?”

  Justin reaches across the table and smacks him upside his head. “What’s your deal with that girl? She blows you off every chance she gets. She’s not interested, and plenty of other girls are. Move on.”

  Carlos grins. “But that’s just it. She’s feisty. Listen, I know she acts like a hard ass, but I’ve gotten the girl to crack a smile a couple times, and let me tell ya, it’s worth it.”

  Justin shakes his head in disgust. “I don’t get you, man.” He leans back in his seat and shifts his attention to the main entrance. “Whoa.”

  I don’t need to turn my head to know who just walked in. Justin’s frozen, and Lauren’s sharp eyes are on mine. I shift around, and as predicted, word of our hookup has spread like wildfire. Pairs of eyes around the room lock on me.

  But not Aly’s. She looks at Justin.

  Right.

  A small grin twitches her lips as she worries the bottom one between her teeth.

  I swallow hard.

  She’s beautiful.

  When did that happen?

  It’s not the new clothes, although seeing she actually has a body is a nice change of pace. It’s more than that. It’s the whole package. Aly’s always been hot, but now it’s like she’s starting to believe it. And her confidence is sexy.

  Behind me, I hear a loud smack. “Ow!”

  I glance back to see Justin rub his arm. Glaring at Lauren, he asks, “What the hell was that for?”

  She shrugs, and my hands tighten into fists. I should be happy for Aly. She’s getting what she wants. But if her plan works, she’ll end up with more than Justin’s attention—she’ll have a broken heart. And I can’t let that happen. Not on my watch.

  Unclenching my hands, I look back, and this time Aly meets my gaze. Her entire face lights up in her signature smile—head tilts, eyes crinkle, and the tiniest of dimples pops out in her right cheek. The pressure in my chest goes away.

  With the senior class tracking my every move, I get up and stride toward her. I pick her up in our usual hug and then, remembering the hungry eyes behind me, lower my head and give her a quick kiss.

  Aly’s mouth is soft and tastes like cherry. A strange urge to kiss her for real grips me, to part her lips and see if she tastes just as sweet inside.

  Whoa, where did that come from?

  I quickly lift my head and feel more than hear Aly’s giggle. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Clearing my throat, I shut down the crazy thoughts. I watch Gabi, Kara, and Daniel stroll toward us, realizing that pretending is going to be more awkward than I’d thought. But when I whisper back, “No problem,” and see her smile again, I remember why I’m doing this. “You ready?”

  Aly nods, and I turn to bump fists with Daniel. “We got seats back here,” I tell them, reaching down for Aly’s hand. As I lead the group back to the table, the curious crowd silent and scrutinizing, I bend close to her ear. “You look really good.”

  I mean it, too. She’s wearing a short jean skirt and a dark green tank top that clings to her chest. Her heels show off the lean muscles of her calves, and with the ninja grip she has on my hand, she only stumbles once. Guys lining the aisle don’t even try to hide their roaming eyes. Yep, this pretending thing is gonna suck.

  When I return to the group, Carlos’s mouth is open. He quickly scoots over, freeing the chair beside mine, and seats himself next to Gabi. No surprise there.

  From across the table, Justin openly stares. “Hey, Aly.”

  Aly grins at the table and fidgets with her fingers in her lap. “Hi, Justin.”

  Principal Thompson steps onto the raised platform at the front of the room, calling for attention. I m
eet Justin’s eyes as I slide my arm around the back of Aly’s chair. His mouth quirks. I rest my hand on her bare shoulder, and after jumping at the initial contact, she scoots over and leans against my chest. Justin turns away, and I inhale her familiar sugar-cookie scent.

  During the never-ending list of rules, from the corner of my eye I see Drew scratch the side of his jaw repeatedly. I look over, and he widens his eyes, nodding toward Aly. He drops his gaze to her low-cut shirt and lifts his eyebrows, indicating the obvious makeover. I shrug.

  Guess I should have mentioned that.

  Finally, Thompson gives the green light for food. Our group hustles to the front of the buffet line, where platters of chicken wings, pasta, brisket, and sandwiches are set out. Knowing it’s from the Sassy Gourmet, I load my plate down with every intention of coming back for more. I make a stop at the dessert section, stuff another one of those delicious cookies in my mouth, and add several more to my plate. Aly grins happily. I know that smile.

  Reaching around her, I take the tray from her hands like the good fake hookup that I am. “I’ve got that.”

  She tucks her hand under my elbow and grins. “Why, thank you, baby.”

  Leaning close to her ear, I reply, “Anything for you, darling.”

  Aly laughs, and we turn to walk back to the table…just as Mrs. Reed exits the kitchen. She halts mid-step, head cocked to one side, and Aly falters in those damn shoes.

  Her mom soaks in our cuddled state and grins widely. Aly gives her a sheepish wave and tugs on my elbow. As we walk back to the table, I lean close to her ear. “How long until she’s on the phone with my mom, telling her about this?”

  Aly laughs, and her shoulders visibly lower. “Oh, I give it thirty seconds, tops.” When we sit down, the table is still empty, so I lean over and ask in a hushed voice, “How’s it going so far? What did you tell Gabi and Kara—fact or fiction?”