The Ecstasy Of Faking It

That’s what my dad always said, anyway. He’d go on and on about how people in his day married their high school sweethearts, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Still, before I learned what high school love really meant, my life looked pretty perfect from the outside. I had the star quarterback boyfriend, two amazing best friends, straight A’s, and teachers who actually liked me. I felt like I was living in one of those cheesy teen movies.

Being with the popular crowd made me feel like I belonged. Like I was finally one of them.

It was Monday morning, and I was still in bed, clinging to sleep like it was my last hope. Mondays are the worst, but something made me open my eyes and actually smile.

It was our one-year anniversary.

I know, it sounds so cliché. But I’d had a crush on Charlie since freshman year. I literally almost passed out when he finally asked me out.

I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I took the fastest shower of my life, then hurried back to my room. I threw on a plain white T-shirt, blue jeans, my favorite Converse, and a leather jacket.

Right on cue, I heard Haley’s car horn blaring outside.

I grabbed my backpack, snatched an apple from the kitchen, and bolted out the door.

I slid into the backseat of Haley’s red Jeep Wrangler and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Bitch, what took you so long?” Haley snapped, starting the car.

“Good morning to you too,” I said, still catching my breath.

Carley was in the passenger seat. She turned around and smiled at me, and I smiled back.

The drive to school was quiet, but in a good way. Haley had music playing, and none of us felt like talking.

After about thirty minutes, we pulled into the school parking lot. None of us moved to get out.

“So, Emily, what are you and Charlie doing for your first anniversary?” Haley asked, her eyes on me.

Carley turned around, waiting for my answer too.

Haley and Carley were way too invested in my relationship with Charlie. I figured they were just being good friends, so I let them in on everything.

They were both gorgeous, cheerleaders, rich, popular—you name it. Sometimes I wondered how I even became friends with them. One minute I started dating Charles Morrison, and the next I was getting invited to all the cool parties.

“I was thinking I’d keep it simple. Maybe decorate my room with a big happy-anniversary poster, and then we’d hook up later,” I said, shrugging.

Haley slapped her forehead, totally dramatic.

Of course she was going to disagree.

“Sweetie, you’ve been dating the most popular guy in school for a whole fucking year. You need to go all out and do something fun for him at school. You can always hook up later,” she said, waving her hand like it was obvious.

“Okay, what do you guys think I should do?” I asked, curious.

They exchanged these evil little smiles. Haley was about to spill her big plan, but suddenly we got interrupted. People were gathering in a circle nearby—it looked like a fight.

“Finally, some action around here,” Carley said, jumping out of the car and running toward the crowd.

Haley and I shared a look, then followed.

“C’mon, it’s probably your boyfriend,” she said, grabbing my hand with a sigh.

Charlie was always getting into fights for no reason. I hoped it wasn’t him this time, but I followed Haley anyway. When we got to the crowd, I couldn’t see anything. I tried jumping, tiptoeing—nothing. So I just started pushing my way through.

Finally, I made it to the front. And there was Charlie, fistful of Adrian Mackey’s shirt, looking pissed. Adrian just looked bored.

“I dare you to say that again,” Charlie said, his voice sharp. Adrian just rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t care less.

No one really understood why Charlie hated Adrian Mackey so much. I’d tried to ask Charlie once, but he just told me it was none of my business. So I let it go, even though it bugged me.

Then, out of nowhere, Charlie punched Adrian right in the face. The crowd gasped, all at once. I let out a restless sigh and rubbed the back of my neck, wishing I could be anywhere else.

Adrian didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, not touching his cheek, not reacting at all. Charlie looked ready to swing again, so I stepped in and grabbed his arm, holding him back.

“He’s not worth it,” I whispered to Charlie.

Adrian looked away, his jaw tight, a muscle twitching.

“Let go of me,” Charlie snapped.

“Charlie, if you get in trouble again, your coach is going to bench you. Just like last time. Is that really what you want?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice calm.

He hesitated, then finally let go of Adrian.

Adrian straightened his shirt, glaring at Charlie.

“This isn’t over, freak,” Charlie muttered, shoving Adrian’s shoulder.

Adrian didn’t say a word. He just shot me a look I couldn’t read, grabbed his backpack, and walked away—bumping into my shoulder as he passed.

Freak, right.

Charlie grabbed my hand and started pushing through the crowd, dragging me out of the parking lot, through the school, and straight into the janitor’s closet. It was tiny and pitch black.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, his voice low and angry, trapping me against the wall.

“Do what? Save you from doing something stupid…again?” I tried to touch his face, but he dodged me.

I rolled my eyes.

“You didn’t save me from shit. I had it under control,” he said, his voice tight.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I stopped you from hitting someone. Can we just move on?” I asked, looping my arms around his neck.

He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. I leaned up to kiss him, but he didn’t kiss me back.

“Emily?” he whispered, his lips barely brushing mine.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he said, his voice suddenly serious.

I laughed, thinking he was joking. “Do what? Fight with Mackey all the time?” I searched his face for a smile.

“No, I mean us. I don’t think I can date you anymore, Em,” he said, looking anywhere but at me.

I laughed because it had to be a joke.

My hands dropped to my sides. I felt empty. “You’re serious?” My laugh came out shaky, my stomach twisting up.

“I am,” he said, nodding, still not meeting my eyes.

His words knocked the breath out of me. My heart pounded so hard I thought my knees might give out.

“You’re breaking up with me because I stopped you from hitting someone?” I asked, barely believing it.

“No, um…” He scratched the back of his head. “I probably should’ve told you sooner, but I’m just not in it anymore, Em. I don’t feel the same way I did when we started. We’ve grown apart.” He shrugged.

My mouth dropped open and a tear slipped down my cheek, but I wiped it away fast. “We’ve grown apart?” I shoved his chest, anger flaring.

“Yeah, Emily, we have. And honestly, I don’t think I should be in a relationship right now,” he said, still avoiding my eyes.

At that point, I couldn’t stop the tears. They just kept coming.

Don’t get me wrong—I’d thought about what breaking up with Charlie would feel like. But I always pictured it being my choice, or maybe something like long distance. I never thought he’d be the one to end it. I thought maybe we’d even stay friends.

Guess I should’ve thought about all the other ways it could go.

“You can’t just break up with me like this.” My voice cracked, sounding small.

“Why not?” he said, letting out a sigh.

“Because we’ve been dating for a whole year, asshole!” My voice cracked again, and it felt like a boulder was lodged in my throat. Another tear slipped down my cheek, hot and embarrassing.

“So?” He just shrugged, like it meant nothing.

“So?” I shot back, my eyebrows practically climbing off my face.

“Emily, even if we were dating for five years, I would have still broken up with you if—”

“Shut up.” I cut him off, holding up my hand like a stop sign.

I grabbed a fistful of my hair and let out this weird, shaky laugh. It sounded more like a sob. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I thought we were soulmates.” The words slipped out, barely a whisper, but of course he heard.

“There’s no such thing,” he said, flat and cold.

But no. I wasn’t about to go to prison for killing someone named Charles. People would probably think I’d murdered someone’s grandpa.

“Yeah, I know that now.” My hand found the doorknob, desperate to get out, but he stopped me before I could turn it.

“If I were you, I would not be touching me right now,” I said, my voice low and sharp.

“Just one more thing.” He pulled his hand back, like he’d touched a hot stove.

“What? You want your hoodies and T-shirts back?” I tried to sound casual, but my heart was pounding.

“You can keep those. It’s just—Jennifer and I have been getting to know each other. So if you see us around, just remember, I didn’t cheat on you,” he said, like that was supposed to make me feel better.

It didn’t.

“Which Jennifer are we talking about here?” I asked, my voice tight.

He hesitated, then mumbled, “Duncan.”

My eyes went wide. I stared at him, not sure if I wanted to laugh or scream.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “As in your fucking ex?”