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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 bum.
*I LOVE hearing from readers! Send
feedback, ask questions, or say hello at leightmoore(at)gmail.com.
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