The Truth About Faking by Leigh Talbert Moore Page A

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
    A-men.
    Finally the song is over, and as usual everyone breaks for the doors. I wonder if any of them even noticed the mini-panic-attack I almost had. Or that I actually cared for once that someone in particular was listening. As the crowd starts to thin, Jason waits at the back of the room. I tell Mom I’ll walk home and go to meet him.
    “You have hidden talents,” he smiles. “And a really nice voice.”
    Warmth fills my stomach, and I feel wobbly again. I’m having one of those low-blood-sugar moments like that day at lunch. I’m sure of it. I mean, it is lunchtime, and this is just Jason. Jeez. What’s wrong with me all of a sudden?
    “Everyone knows the Doxology,” I say.
    “Not everyone gets up and sings it in front of the whole town.” He turns to walk with me.
    “I guess they would if their dad was the pastor.” I stop as he opens the back door. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
    “Just curious. You jumped out of the car so fast last night I didn’t get to tell you I was coming.”
    “Sorry about that.”
    “Why did you?”
    “What?”
    “Jump out of the car like that.”
    I look over at him. I want to tell him what I saw, about Ricky’s car being at my house and what I overheard. I want to tell him my fears and have him reassure me. Just like at the dance. I’m sure he’ll understand and maybe even make me feel better, maybe tell me I’m being paranoid. But I decide to wait.
    “I just remembered something I had to do.”
    “At ten o’clock?”
    “I forgot to tell Shelly something, and I wanted to catch her before it got too late.”
    His eyes narrow, and I know he doesn’t believe me. But he lets it go. “So what now?” he asks.
    “Huh?” My eyebrows pull together.
    “Last night you were having second thoughts about us fake dating. Did you want to change the plans or are we still together?”
    I look up and see Trent helping his mother into their car. I’ve never seen his dad, since his parents are divorced. He glances in our direction before closing the door and then hustles around to the driver’s side. I think about Jason’s question and wonder what would be happening right now if he weren’t standing here beside me. Would Trent come over and talk to me? I like the idea of that, but at the same time, I feel sad at the thought of Jason being gone. He’s so easy to talk to, and he really seems to care about the stuff that’s bothering me. I’ve actually started to like having him around. And it’s so strange. I’ve never worried about how I sounded singing the Doxology in front of Trent.
    “What do you think?” I ask. I stop walking and look at Jason, hoping his response will give me some clue about what to do.
    “I don’t know, H.D. This has been your game from the start.”
    And there he is, all dressed up in a coat and tie, and waiting for me to send him away. From the corner of my eye, I notice Trent’s car drive off down the street.
    “I think maybe we should give it a few more days. I mean, things have been going pretty well, and maybe you could talk to Trent and see how he feels.”
    “Like ask him if he likes you?”
    “Maybe,” I think about it. “I mean, yes! That would be perfect.”
    “But if we’re going out, I don’t think he’ll tell me that he likes you. I mean, you’re my girl. At least that’s what he thinks.”
    I never thought hearing those words from someone besides Trent would make me happy, but when Jason says “my girl,” a tingly little pulse moves through my chest. It makes me want to smile, but instead I frown and shake my head. What’s wrong with me? This is all fake. I’m falling for my own scheme.
    “You’re right,” I say. “Let me think about it, and I’ll make a decision tonight.”
    “So if for now, I’m still your boyfriend. You should invite me over for Sunday dinner.”
    “Oh, really?” I glance up and smile. “You think I should do that?”
    “Sure. I’m starved, and I