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Authors: Rachel Harris

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BOOK: The Fine Art of Pretending
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Kara opens her bag of veggies, picks out a celery stick, and takes a healthy, tasteless bite. “Did you get to meet his stinking rich parents?”

“No, they weren’t home.” Their eyes widen, and I shake my head. “Nothing happened. I’m telling y’all, he’s not as bad as people say.”

What I don’t tell them is that when I wasn’t trying to distract him from making out in the empty house, I got him to talk about
why
it was empty. Looking around his enormous living room, it didn’t just look like no one was home; it looked like no one even lived there. After gentle prodding, Justin admitted his dad pretty much lives out of a suitcase, traveling for work, and his stepmom is more concerned with spa treatments and social events than playing homemaker. From the way he describes it, I gather any scrap of maternal instinct she does possess goes straight to his stepbrother Chase.

Seeing Justin in his house, getting a look behind the curtain, added another layer to the mystery. I can’t imagine what it would be like growing up without my parents constantly in my life, wanting to know every detail and planning ridiculous family-bonding nights.

“If nothing happened,” Kara says with a look implying she doesn’t believe that at all, “what did you do all night?”

“I didn’t say nothing happened. I said nothing
much
happened.” It’s not my place to spread Justin’s dirty family laundry, and it’s not as if we only talked. I wrinkle my nose at their eager expressions. “We kissed.”

Gabi folds her pillow in half and shoves it under her chin. “Why do I get the feeling it wasn’t all stardust and moonbeams?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. Justin’s great. But something just felt…off.” I bite my lip and twist the silky fabric of my throw pillow, waging an inner battle over how much I can tell my friends. The weight of dishonesty is oppressive, but if I come clean now, they’ll hate me.

I’ve already lost Brandon. I can’t lose Gabi and Kara, too.

But I also can’t ignore the clawing in my throat and chest anymore. I desperately need to talk to my friends, to hear them say these feelings for Brandon will go away. That the pieces of my heart will one day glue back together and someday we can even be friends again. That one day I will actually be able to breathe when I think about him. Or talk over the lump in my throat when his name comes up, or I imagine him with some other girl.

The decorative ruffle on the pillow rips, and I stare at the jagged fabric in my hands. The least I can do is be honest about how I feel. Sitting up, I tuck my legs under me and admit, “I need help.”

Their eyes widen at the tears in my eyes. Gabi and Kara lean forward simultaneously in support, and guilt tears through me, making me feel even smaller, even weaker. How amazing would it feel to be completely honest, to let them know how badly I messed everything up and how much I lost?

“When Justin kissed me,” I say, preemptively wincing at what I’m about to reveal, “I couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon.”

Kara blinks. “Yikes. Sucks to be Justin.”

Gabi reaches over and smacks the back of her head. “Way to go, Ms. Sensitivity. We’re supposed to be supporting
Aly
right now.”

“No, she’s right.” I groan and fall back against the bed, digging my hands into my eyes. “That about sums it up. What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” Gabi assures me, wiggling my foot. “You’re just confused.”

“No, I completely suck as a human being,” I mumble, reaching for the pint of ice cream. “Who goes out with the hottest guy in school and freaking fantasizes about being with someone else?”

“Um, not to be obtuse again, but Brandon’s pretty hot, too,” Kara cuts in.

Gabi shoots her a glare. “Aly, I’m sure—”


And
it’s not like the person I’m fantasizing about is wasting any time pining for me,” I continue, digging a heart-shaped trench through the center with my spoon. “I doubt my face floats in Brandon’s mind when he’s off sucking face with his flavor of the week.”

Gabi pries my hand away from the carton. “Have you even seen him with anyone lately? I don’t recall a single girl draped on his arm since before y’all hooked up. Maybe he
is
thinking about you. ”

Kara sprawls beside me and runs her fingers through my hair. “Are you really this upset just because you thought about Brandon? I mean, everyone fantasizes and plays the
what-if
game, Aly. It’s perfectly normal behavior.”

“But that’s not fair to Justin,” I say wearily. “He’s been so sweet and understanding. He deserves better than to have me thinking of some other dude whenever he kisses me.”

“What about the other, non-kissing stuff?” Gabi asks. “Does that feel off, too?”

I lift a shoulder. “He makes me laugh. And he definitely has the 411 on what girls like to hear. He’s almost too smooth to be honest.” I pause. “But, even though he opened up about some family stuff, we don’t really talk or have a lot in common.”

Not like Brandon and me
.

“Talking’s overrated.” Kara looks up from braiding my hair and points at me with narrowed eyes. “And I’m still not buying that’s what made you all leaky-eyed. Spill it.”

I shift under the scrutiny and throw Gabi a look, but she joins in with her own intent stare. I huff and sink further into the pillows. “Well, it’s not just that I thought about him during our date. I kinda realized something huge after Justin kissed me.”

Gabi nods, a smug smile creeping onto her face, and Kara’s fingers stop braiding.

“I’m in love with Brandon.”

“Well, duh.”

“Excuse me?” I ask.

Gabi rolls her eyes. “I said duh. As in, ‘no duh.’ An expression meant to convey the sentiment of
Where the hell have you been?
and
Are you seriously just figuring this out
?”

I look at Kara, who shrugs in response. “Wait, I knew y’all thought we were hot for each other, but there’s a huge difference between
that
and me being in love with the guy.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara admits. “But once you got together, the love part was pretty obvious.”

I gape at them incredulously. “And no one thought they should clue me in?”

“Sweetie, don’t even.” Gabi pushes up on her elbows. “Every time we’ve brought up our thoughts on the Brandon situation, you’ve bitten our heads off. Besides, we thought you knew. Like Kara said, it was pretty obvious.”

Awesome
. If it was so obvious, then Brandon must know, too. No wonder he wanted out.

Kara scoots up and grabs my hand. “So what are you going to do?”

I sigh and lay my head on her bony shoulder. “What can I do? Brandon broke up with me. This earth-shattering news doesn’t change that. But it’s probably not fair to keep dating Justin, right? When I’m in love with someone else?”

Gabi digs out a heaping spoon of ice cream and hands it to me. “Not to fall bias to gender stereotypes, but I honestly don’t think Justin will care if you use him. I doubt he’s out looking for a serious relationship here. You’ve seen the girls he usually dates.”

I lick my spoon and think about Lauren.

“And there’s nothing wrong with just having fun sometimes.” Kara bumps my shoulder. “Live a little. Flirt, loosen up, have an adventure. Do something completely
un
-Aly-like for once.”

I almost laugh aloud. Kara just described the exact type of girl I have been trying to become. A
Casual
.

“Kara, you’re right. I probably
should
just shut up and enjoy it.” I take a deep breath. “But I’m starting to think maybe I’m just not built that way.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s the most honest thing I’ve said in a long time.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH

2 weeks and 5 days until Homecoming

ALY
FAIRFIELD ACADEMY, 12:00 p.m
.

The
cafeteria hierarchy established itself the first day of ninth grade. It’s wrong on so many levels, just like the guys’ chauvinistic ranking system, but it exists. And for the last three years, it’s been comfortable. Lunch used to be the one period I could count on in the school day
not
to cause anxiety. That was before I started dating Justin.

As I slide my bright orange tray along the stainless steel rails in the kitchen, inhaling the aroma of greasy pizza and fries, I think about the mess I’ve made. My first two weeks eating with the Beautiful People were fine. Even though Brandon and I were just pretending, sitting beside him felt right. As though I belonged, even though I didn’t.

But sitting next to Justin—
whom I’m legitimately dating
—while staring across the table at Brandon—
whom I actually love
—is nothing short of awkward.

Justin reaches across me for my tray and kisses me on the cheek.

“Please curb the PDA until I have something in my stomach,” Gabi grumbles behind us. “I’d rather not dry heave today.”

He smiles and nods for me to walk ahead of him. “You’re funny, Gabi. How did I not know that?”

She shrugs. “Could it be you were too busy sucking face with a bunch of skanks to notice the brilliant females around you?”

I shoot her a murderous look, but Justin just flings his head back and laughs.

If I survive the next forty minutes, it’ll be a miracle.

Grabbing my plastic carton of milk, I wait as Justin pays. Posters for the upcoming dance and talent show decorate the path to our table. As I sit down, feeling the squish of dropped French fries under my ballet flats, I realize Justin hasn’t mentioned Homecoming yet. And time is ticking.

“Anyone thinking about entering the talent show?” I ask the table at large, hoping I can steer the conversation to include the dance the following weekend.

Gabi dusts crumbs off her seat and plops down next to me. “Y’all know the whole thing was Aly’s idea.” She nudges me with an elbow, then folds her huge slice of pizza and shoves it into her mouth.

“Not the
whole
thing,” I clarify. “It was Lauren’s idea to make the talent show a fundraiser and move it later in the day.”

After I bowed out early from the board meeting, the group took my talent show idea one step further. Lauren suggested changing it into a competition with an entrance fee to raise money for our school’s philanthropy, a local elementary school. She also proposed moving it a few hours later and selling refreshments, thus raising even more.

Although I’ll never admit it to her face, the girl took my idea to a whole other level.

“I might toss my hat in the ring,” Carlos says, leaning over Justin to get my attention. “Wanna team up? You can sing while I play the guitar.”

The blood drains from my face, and I shake my head back and forth. “Uh, no. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Come on, you rocked at karaoke.” Carlos scrapes his chair back to look at me. “You’d be helping a brother out. No one wants to listen to an idiot play guitar by himself for three minutes. And you heard me sing, Aly. I need ya.”

A tray drops on the table across from me. “Are you begging for a date again, Carlos?”

I look over to see Brandon watching me before he turns to Carlos with an exaggerated sigh. “Man, I told you there are better ways of getting a girl to go out with you.”

BOOK: The Fine Art of Pretending
10.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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