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Blurb
The Truth About Faking
Jason just wants a date
with Harley.
Harley just wants a
date with Trent.
Trent's still getting
over Stephanie.
When Harley and Jason
decide to fake date, they uncover a school of deceptions. Trent's got a secret,
but so does Jason. And the more time Harley spends secretly kissing her fake
boyfriend, the further she gets from her dreams with Trent.
Worst of all, Harley's
mom is getting cozy with her hot massage therapy student, and even Harley's
Reverend Dad can't fake not being bothered by it. But when the masks finally
come off, can everyone handle the real truth?
THE TRUTH ABOUT FAKING
By Leigh Talbert Moore
© TLM Productions LLC
Excerpt
Harley
It all started last
summer at cheerleading tryouts. I don’t count sophomore year when I was
completely invisible—at least I hope I was.
No, it was a week
before school started, and I’d just gotten my braces off. Shelly had insisted I
try out with her, so we were all at the gym. The boys—Trent included—had been
playing basketball on the half-court until Coach Taylor sent them outside.
They’d pretended to be pissed, but we knew they were really there checking out
the new recruits.
My turn went okay. I
did some easy cheers, and then came the jumps portion. I did The Banana, and
Stephanie nearly squirted cherry Icee through her nose.
Meg leaned over and
giggled, “What was that?” under her breath, and Stephanie shouted “Next!” like
it had been some sort of Broadway show from which I’d just been cut.
I kept my head down as
I walked off the court, hoping my ponytail would hide my burning cheeks. I bit
my lip, doing my best not to cry.
Usually I’m not so
weak, but that had been about as humiliating as my stupid non-jump. I sat on
the metal bleachers staring at my shoes until finally I grabbed my bag and
decided to leave.
I’d just opened the
metal door when WHAM!
Next thing I knew, I
was lying on the ground with my head in somebody’s lap. A voice was saying
something, and my eyes flickered open. The sun was shining right in my face,
and the first thing I was able to make out was… lavender.
Trent’s head was inches
from mine. My stomach flipped, and I bumped our noses as I tried to sit up.
“Hey,” he laughed,
leaning back. “Harley, right? Can you stand up?”
“What?” I tried to
stand, but my head felt like I’d run into a brick wall. I caught his shoulder.
It felt really nice and firm.
“You ran into a brick
wall,” he said. “Sort of. David had just thrown the ball, and I missed it. It
kind of knocked you out.”
I reached up to touch
my forehead, and as he helped me up, my face went into his chest where I caught
a deep breath of the woodsy boy-smell coming off him. For a head injury, this
could be worse.
“I was knocked out?” I
timidly looked up at him, and he smiled.
The sun was shining all
golden behind his head, and it made him look like a knight. Or one of those hot
angels. Just then Shelly came outside.
“There you are. Sorry,
just got my—what happened!?”
“Basketball hit her in
the head,” Trent said.
I wanted to die. What a
dork!
“I think she hit her
head on the wall,” he continued. “She might need to go to Urgent Care.”
“Oh my god!” Shelly
cried. “Bring her inside. I’ll get Coach Taylor.”
“I’m okay,” I said. My
knees were wobbly, but I couldn’t tell if it was my head or Trent’s arm tight
around my waist. He was holding my hand even.
Shelly held the metal
door open, and next thing I knew, David had joined us.
“Hey, Harley, I’m
really sorry.” He caught my other arm, and I felt Trent’s grip loosen. David’s dark
head was in the shadow of the gym, and he was definitely not an angel. Go away,
David.
“It’s okay,” I said,
trying to smile and scoot back toward Trent. “Really, I’m fine.”
“I can drive her to the
doctor,” Shelly said. I tried to give her my most discouraging look. Just then
Stephanie joined the mob.
“What’s up? Harley? Are
you okay?”
“We’re taking her to
Coach Taylor,” Shelly said.
“What happened?”
“Harley might have a
concussion,” David said like it was the most exciting thing to happen all
summer.
David was distracted by
Stephanie, and I leaned on Trent’s arm. He caught my waist again and smiled,
and everything turned perfect. The humiliation of tryouts, the humiliation of
being beaned in the head with a basketball, none of it mattered as I stood there
with Trent’s arm tight around me.
Until Coach Taylor
showed up and ruined it.
She took me away and
led me to the bleachers. Then she started shining her tiny flashlight in my
eyes. “Do you feel sleepy? Like you might vomit?”
Nice. I shook my head,
and David started bouncing the dumb ball again. Coach Taylor shouted for all
the boys to get back outside and told me to sit where she could keep her eye on
me. I watched the guys leave, and just as Trent was going through the door, he
stopped and glanced back. It was because he wanted to stay with me, I was sure,
and I tried to catch his eye. David shoved him through the opening before he
saw me, and I sighed, turning back to the court. Stephanie was watching, but
she quickly flicked her attention back to her sheet and called the next name.
As I rested on the
bleachers, everything felt sort of soft and glowy. It seemed like music was
playing somewhere—and not because of my head injury. It was because I knew
Trent was The One, my hero. I tried to remember if I’d thanked him, but it
didn’t matter. I was sure he’d ask me out.
A week later we all
started junior year, and the next time I saw Trent, he was walking down the
hall holding hands with Stephanie.
About the Author:
I'm the hat lady--wife,
mom, reader, writer, caffeine addict, chocoholic, southern expat, and beach
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