Page 63 of The Fake Out

“It was fun.” And that wasn’t even a lie. It had been fun. At least until Peter ruined it. I was seriously considering siccing Ali on him now. He’d earned it. Which reminded me. “Hey, do you know a kid at school named Aidan Bustos? He’s a senior. He’s new.”

She shrugged. “Not anyone I know.”

More silence. Except she was staring at me. We’d moved on from sweet sister chat to just plain weird.

I cleared my throat. “Did you need something else?”

“Have you heard from Dad?” she blurted out. “I’ve left a bunch of messages but then I wondered if maybe they accidentally got erased or something and maybe that’s why he’s not calling back…” Her voice drifted off, but her eyes were bright with hope.

With a groan, I put an arm over my eyes. “I called. No answer.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I get it.”

The gentle ring of hope in her voice made my chest tight. I sat up and peered down at her. “You know sometimes Dad can be kind of hard to nail down.”

Understatement of the year.

She shrugged and picked at the black polish on her fingernail. “I know. I just thought it’s my graduation and it’s a big deal.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She scowled. “Please. I am practically an adult.”

I swallowed back a bitter laugh. Someone should tell her that being an adult does not exempt you from pain. “I'll keep trying, okay?”

TWENTY-SIX

I like your shirt. I’d like it more on the floor next to my bed.

—LEANNE P.T.

Dreamboat: Are you tired?

Me: Why?

Dreamboat: I know you spend all day making shhh happen.

Me: Wow.

Dreamboat: You like it, and you know it.

Me: Why are you bothering me?

Dreamboat: ’Cause I know how much you miss me.

Me: I saw you two hours ago at lunch.

Dreamboat: You don’t have to admit it. I know it in my heart.

Me: What do you want?

Dreamboat: I have a question.

Me: ???

Dreamboat: How do you feel about getting dressed up?

Me: Why?