Page 36 of Fake It Till You Break It
Okay, I was pretty ashamed, but it was kind of hard to hate myself when I was so happy. The sugar. The cream. Ah, this must be what blissful heaven felt like.
“So I actually had a reason for looking for you, and it isn’t just to coerce you into doing what I wanted. Although it’spretty fun.” He laced his fingers together on his lap. “I wanted to check if you needed a ride home today.”
I licked the cream from my fingers, drifting back to reality. “Oh. No, I’m going over to Aly’s house to work on our English paper.”
Was that disappointment that flickered across his face? It disappeared before I could be sure.
Jake shifted back and forth in his seat. “That’s cool. I figured I might as well ask.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I expected him to leave, but he just sat there rocking back and forth like he was waiting for something. And I swear, with each rock, the chair slid a tiny bit closer to me. A millimeter. A centimeter? Were those the same? I sucked at the metric system.
“You know, you haven’t called me Brat in a while,” I blurted out instead.
“I guess I haven’t.” He pursed his lips a bit and my eyes zoomed down to them. “Why? Do you miss it?”
Jerking my gaze away, a slight flush crept down my face. I tried to be discreet as I fanned myself with my folder. “No, I just noticed it.”
Jake’s face grew thoughtful as he chewed on his thumbnail. “You’re just less bratty these days. You’re… something else.”
My head cocked to the right as I peered over at him. “What am I?”
His eyes searched mine for a while before crinkling at the edges in an unspoken smile. “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, but I’ll let you know when I do.”
That was barely a compliment, but at least it definitely wasn’t an insult, so I didn’t give my usual snarky response. “Have you decided if you’re going to perform at the festival or not?”
Jake choked on the water he had just taken a gulp of. “What are you… how did you know about that?”
“I have my ways.” I handed him a couple of tissues from my bag. “Okay, Rose told me. Why are you ashamed?”
“I’m notashamed.” He ran his fingers through his dark curls, tugging at the ends a bit. “I just… I’m not going to do it, that’s all. So why bother telling anyone about it.”
“That’s just stupid. Not you.” I stopped and thought about it. “Well, kind of you.”
His brow rose. “Ouch.”
Not wanting to start another fight when we just made up, I rushed to explain myself. “I don’t mean it in abadway. It just doesn’t make sense to me. You have talent, and they want you to perform. This should be your dream come true.”
“How do you know what I want?”
I scoffed. “Come on. Performing live in front of people hasalways been your dream. Why else would you make me sit through so many of your ‘concerts’ when we were kids?”
“To torture you?”
“Well, it worked.” There was a drop of water clinging—glinting—on his jaw, and I wiped it away so it would stop distracting me. There was the slightest bit of dark scruff on his chin that was rough against my finger. Jake stared at my hand, and I dropped it on my lap with a thud. “Seriously, forget everything else. Forget Finn and your YouTube channel. Forget the past couple of years. It’s just you and the festival. What do you want to do?”
He shook his head. Hard, like he was trying to clear it. “I don’t know. It’s not that simple.”
I let out a heavy sigh. Maybe it was still too soon for him. “And it’s not that complicated, either. If it were me and I had a chance to perform onstage, nothing would stop me. Not even if a thousand Ryan Reynoldses were in my way. Or Ryan Goslings. No Ryan could stop me.” Although I wouldn’t mind if they tried…
“Then why don’t you?”
“Why don’t I what?”
The smile on his face twitched. “Perform onstage.”
“Because it’s pretty hard to get the part when you’re talentless.” I let out a hollow laugh. “It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it. I’m just not an onstage kind of person. That’s for people like Lyndon and Ben. I’m just a backstage office person.”
