Fake Read online

  FAKE

  Beck Nicholas

  www.harlequinteen.com.au

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Beck Nicholas always wanted to write. Since studying science at university, she’s worked as a lab assistant, a pizza delivery driver and a high school teacher, but she always pursued her first dream of creating stories. Now, she lives with her family near Adelaide, halfway between the city and the sea, and she’s lucky to spend her days (and nights) writing young adult fiction.

  When she’s not writing, Beck will most likely be found reading or watching sport (since participating is beyond her coordination levels). In the early morning, before the day of writing, kid wrangling and reading begins, she runs. When it’s just her and the road (and her protesting muscles) she lets the characters in her head share their problems and a story begins.

  Find Beck at www.becknicholas.com

  On Facebook at Beck Nicholas Author

  And Twitter @BeckNicholas

  For Davey – who is as bad as I am with decisions, but always, always chooses me.

  CONTENTS

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Acknowledgments

  Fake Playlist

  Q&A with Beck Nicholas

  CHAPTER

  1

  ‘… new guy … moved here … summer …’

  The whispers roll across the Tuckersfield High courtyard like the rustle of rats on a wheel. I can’t help but lift my sunglasses and look around the trunk of the ancient gum tree I’m leaning against to see the subject of the murmurs.

  Not that there’s a huge range of possibilities.

  It has to be Sebastian.

  He walks like he doesn’t hear them. He looks straight ahead, wearing a neutral expression bordering on blank. Electric blue sneakers, with the laces trailing, scrape across the gravel. His jeans are black and faded to almost the same shade as his grey hoodie. His dark brown hair is all mussed like he just ran his hand through it. And I know, even across this distance, that his eyes are the exact green of the pine tree whose needles brush my bedroom window.

  Eyes that are looking straight at me.

  My breath kind of sticks in my chest and I duck back behind the tree, dragging my glasses down to shield my face. Something about him makes me feel awkward. Uncomfortable. I lift my hands to neaten my long ponytail before I catch myself. I will not fix my hair for someone I hardly know.

  ‘Kath! What are you hiding here for?’

  I look up, into the frowning face of Chayanne Davy. She’s been my best friend since year four when she cut my finger in a fight over a piece of purple ribbon. She didn’t do blood and promptly fainted, meaning we both spent the rest of the lesson in the nurse’s office. Now, she looks even more pissed than she did then. Her eyebrows, a dozen shades darker than her bleached hair, are lowered in a scowl.

  I shrug. ‘This is where we always sit.’

  She drops a folder on the damp grass and settles beside me with an exaggerated sigh. ‘But now you’re dating Joel you need to hang out near the canteen in case he wants to talk to you.’

  ‘He bought me an ice-cream almost two weeks ago. It’s hardly a commitment.’

  ‘You’ve finally got Mr Hottie’s attention and now you’re going to blow him off?’

  I’m not sure a meet-up at Sweety’s Icecreamery, not far from my house, even counts as a date. I shrug again.

  Chay flashes me one of her infectious grins. Her bright red lipstick matches her sandals which, combined with tiny cut-off shorts, are completely inappropriate for the chill in the air. ‘So did I imagine the fact that he asked you to the end-of-term party?’

  My lips twitch but I refrain from repeating the jig I’d performed in the privacy of my bedroom. ‘Nope.’

  Truth be told, for a while I’d worried that I’d dreamed the casual invite to the annual dress-up celebration. I’d been polishing off the remnants of my strawberry shake and the final slurp nearly drowned his words. I didn’t even mention it to Chay until he messaged me publicly last week to confirm he’d be picking me up at seven.

  ‘More than one date … therefore dating.’ Point proven, she flicks the switch on her phone and her thumbs fly over the buttons. ‘Now, what’s happened while I was stuck in maths purgatory?’

  I settle back against the white, ghostly trunk of the tree and hug my knees to my chest, thankful for the jeans and boots shielding me from the cold. My soft brown leather boots are like those Chay bought in the sales, but I picked these ones up from a little second-hand place I discovered on a trip with Mum to Melbourne. I like to imagine they belonged to a 1970s soap star. Mum says they’re probably a bored housewife’s cast-offs.

  I’m happy for Chay to be focused on her phone so I can think about the best costume for me to wear. Maybe I should check what Joel’s wearing. Is it too soon for us to match?

  Chay and I aren’t the only ones out today. Despite the chill in the air, the ‘no phones in the halls’ rule sends most of the student population from the buildings at break times to check their social network of choice. Chay is addicted and insists we spend every moment possible in phone range. I don’t mind. I love the routine of our tree, our spot in the lunchtime crowd.

  Suddenly, Chay’s hand flies to her mouth. ‘OMG.’

  I wait.

  She turns to me, her blue eyes wide. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  The genuine sympathy pooling in her eyes presses at a wound deep inside. One I thought was completely healed over. Memories pop up in my brain of people saying they were sorry. To me. To Mum. It was one of the reasons we’d left our impressive family home on Sydney harbour all those years ago and moved to this tiny town two hours away by car. To get away from ‘Sorry’.

  I try for a light laugh despite the faint unease in my belly. Chay is nothing if not dramatic. ‘What?’

  Instead of answering, she turns her phone so I can see the latest updates from Chay’s nine hundred closest friends. Impatient, I scan the entries.

  And then I see it.

  Lana Elliot is going to the party with Joel.

  Lana Elliot. She’s Sebastian’s little sister, and theoretically the other new kid, but she’s slotted into her year eleven class like she was born in nearby Lady of Grace Memorial Hospital.

  Crap.

  Unease becomes I-think-I’m-going-to-be-sick all over my nice brown boots. I swallow it back, annoyed with my body’s melodramatic reaction. Maybe her status doesn’t mean what I think it means. Maybe Joel hasn’t dumped me for giggly, pretty, well-developed Lana.

  I stare at the text on the small screen until my eyes begin to sting and water. If I look away I’ll have to process the words. I’ll have to meet my best friend’s pitying gaze. I’ll have to admit the last few days have been nothing more than a stupid fantasy where ordinary Kathleen McKenny was someone for a change.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Chay repeats. ‘I’ve never liked her.’

  I blink and relax my grip on the phone, trying desperately to act like I’m not bothered. Ha. Who do I think I’m fooling?

  I don’t quite meet Chay’s gaze. ‘I’ll wait for sympathy until I hear it from Joel. I know he wouldn’t dump me like this. He’s not that kind of guy.’ I think. I hope.

  Chay sits up a little straighter
and the gloom lifts with the corners of her mouth. ‘You’re right. He’s pretty decent – as well as hot.’

  More decent than I’d expected when his mum asked me to extend the English mentoring I’ve been doing with his little brother to tutoring Joel in history. His family could be on the poster for normal and they’d welcomed me into their home without hesitation. His mum even baked me an apple pie to take home once.

  Not that I needed any convincing to spend time with the guy who had first caught my eye when he brought a mouse he’d rescued to school for show and tell just after I moved here. Cute was one thing but nice and funny had blown me away and turned my crush into serious like. A like he finally seemed to return just a few days ago.

  Chay prods my shoulder, jarring me from my thoughts. ‘Go on.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You have to talk to him.’

  Only an effort to press my lips together stops the automatic ‘no’ from bursting free. I don’t do confrontations … usually. Creating a scene doesn’t mesh with my years of attempting to blend in to the background of the small school and close community of Tuckersfield after the newspaper headlines blazed our trail into town.

  But neither does being dumped.

  Heat surges up my neck as I pull myself to standing. I pause for a moment and my heart hammers faster than Chay can text. He’ll be on the north side of the football stands where the soccer players congregate. I start walking before I can second-guess myself. Striding across spongy grass, I feel the wind whip dark strands of hair across my cheeks and I pull my knitted jacket tighter around my body.

  Stop, Kath. Stop.

  I ignore the panicked voice squeaking in my head and the churning in my belly. I have to know.

  I’m aware of Chay a step behind me. Her moral support is laced, I’m sure, with a huge helping of curiosity. She’s wondering what on earth I’m going to say.

  So am I.

  He’s right where I thought he’d be, on the top of the eight-row high construction. My steps slow. Even though he’s facing away from me, looking out across the field, I’d know the back of that blond-tipped head anywhere. Sitting behind him for two semesters of year nine English allowed me to memorise every strand of hair, the way his shoulders hunch up a little when he’s talking, the tanned skin of the back of his neck.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Each step gets heavier and I’m soon wading through nearly-set superglue until finally I’m stuck. Sense slaps me across the head. I can’t walk up to Joel Moss, starting striker for the first eleven of the school soccer team, the Titans, and demand an explanation about his date in front of half the year twelves.

  The heat in my cheeks escalates as the fire in my belly wanes. Escape is still an option. I can still turn quietly, slink back to my tree and pretend this never happened.

  ‘Look everyone, is that Katherine Mc-whatever?’

  Lana’s sugar sweet voice pierces my what-am-I-doing fog. Somewhere nearby Chay gasps.

  Please let this not be happening. As a steel band of mortification crushes my ribs, I exhale in a rush and turn to face that voice. Towards Joel. Lana’s smirking face is just beyond his shoulder. They’re so close, almost one figure against the cloud-swallowed sky. Is she sitting on his lap?

  Joel drapes one arm across the back of the seat and twists. His usual grin falters as he looks down to where I stand in the shadow of the stands. ‘Oh, hi Kath.’

  ‘Hi.’ Smooth and casual it isn’t, but I’m just grateful my voice doesn’t fail me. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m good. You?’

  ‘Ah …’ My brain falters for a few infinite seconds but finally comes through with an appropriate, if completely untrue, response. ‘Good.’

  He nods. ‘That’s good.’

  More heads appear above the tops of the seats. More faces point in my direction. It’s like our conversation is a magnet for the entire student body. I’m aware of murmurs behind me and suspect I’ve drawn a crowd. By now, everyone will have seen the status update and they know why I’m here. They know I’ve been dumped. I scramble for something else to say. There has to be a way I can exit this without looking any more stupid than I already feel.

  The awkward silence grows between us like a mountain.

  ‘The bell’s about to ring,’ Chay says loudly into the silence.

  It’s all I can do not to hug her. Somehow, I keep my arms to myself, mentally promising to tell Chay exactly how much I adore her as soon as I get through this lunchtime nightmare. I owe her. Big time.

  I clear my throat. ‘I should get to class. See you round.’

  For a moment, Joel looks relieved. I know he doesn’t want to make a scene. Well, no more than he has by inviting me to the party and then replacing me with someone else. But the someone else isn’t done. ‘Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell Kath?’ Lana whispers loudly.

  ‘I’ll talk to you later.’ I cut him off as he moves to open his mouth.

  He nods, but she’s not done. She pouts. Her arms fold, pushing up her ample chest. ‘You said you’d tell her about the party.’

  He’s so busy staring at her, a dopey grin on his face, he takes a second to register her words. There’s command in them.

  ‘I’m taking Lana to the end-of-term party,’ he mumbles. His eyes dart from Lana to me and then back.

  ‘Sure, I understand.’ Shoving my hands in my pockets, I aim to project casual, although I suspect Joel is the only one who might buy the facade. And only because he’s more interested in his new girlfriend’s body than anything I could possibly say.

  With everything between us apparently sorted, Joel straightens in his seat. Lana’s lips curve triumphantly and she leans closer into him, whispering something in his ear. Her lips clearly brush flesh.

  He laughs.

  At me?

  Probably. Does it matter?

  And here I’d thought the day my mother graced page six of the national papers in her dressing gown was the most embarrassed I could possibly be. This, however, is pushing for number one spot.

  I turn slowly, my only thought escape. The crowd is bigger than I’d thought and they aren’t even trying to act as though they aren’t looking at me.

  ‘Poor Kath.’

  I don’t know who says it but there’s a general murmur of agreement. Hot tears fill my eyes. I struggle to hold them back as my vision blurs. Damned if I’m going to break down where they can see me.

  I have to get out of here.

  I force my legs to move. Away from Joel. Away from Lana. Away from the sympathetic faces. If only I’d waited to speak to him in private. Why didn’t I wait? I break into a run, ignoring the throng of kids looking on.

  I stumble.

  Great, now I’m going to fall flat on my face in the mud.

  Two strong hands come out of nowhere and grasp my shoulders, cushioning the impact of my collision with a solid wall … of chest? Blinking, I look up. Right into the pine green eyes of Sebastian Elliot.

  My humiliation is complete.

  CHAPTER

  2

  ‘Hey there.’ Sebastian’s still holding my arms. His warmth seeps through my jacket into my frozen skin as he speaks. ‘Are you okay?’

  His breath is like my favourite chocolate bar, cool peppermint dipped in rich smooth dark chocolate. My body sways a fraction toward temptation before I catch myself.

  I blink and look around. The crowd is moving toward the buildings, entertainment over. A few feet away, Chay waits for me. There’s no way I can tell this boy exactly how un-okay I am. There’s no way I want to. He’s Lana’s brother, part of the enemy camp.

  I step back. And instantly miss the warmth of those big solid hands. ‘I’m fine.’ My already embarrassed state dials my usual Sebastian-discomfort up to painful.

  He looks at me steadily for a long moment. His eyes make him seem so much older than everyone else in our year. They are experienced eyes. Dangerous eyes. He doesn’t believe me for a second. ‘Watch
your step.’

  Before I can answer, thank him for catching me, argue he should watch his own … he walks away.

  Chay is instantly by my side, her hand clutching my wrist. She drags me into the new science building and the nearest girls’ bathroom. It’s empty.

  ‘What a bitch,’ she says once we’re inside, leaning back against the closed door.

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  I guess this is shock. Apart from where Sebastian touched me moments ago, I’m numb. The need to cry has disappeared into a huge wound of nothing. ‘What else is there to say? He chose her.’

  Publicly and painfully.

  Chay paces the small white-tiled space. Click, click, click go her red sandals on the pristine new floor and I want to cover my ears to block out the sound. She’s thinking. It’s an indication as to the importance of what just happened that she only checks her lip gloss in the mirror once.

  I slump against the wall. Images are like shattered pieces of glass in my mind. Lana’s pout. Joel’s guilt. Sebastian’s intensity. Their sharp edges cut me deep inside. Hot pain bubbles in my gut and splashes into my lungs making it hard to breathe.

  I liked Joel. But even more I liked the anonymity I’d worked so hard for and blown in one stupid march across campus. Suddenly ordinary Kath seems like a good person to be. I might have put her at risk but Lana Elliot dealt the mortal blow. People will be talking about this for weeks.

  And I’m starting to think it was no coincidence that I saw Sebastian moments before. The sight of him tilted everything out of balance. Made me brave … and stupid.

  ‘Why didn’t you stop me?’ I know the plaintive question isn’t fair but I utter it anyway.

  Chay laughs. ‘Because I couldn’t believe it was happening. You never do anything like that. Ever.’

  I hang my head. ‘I don’t, do I?’

  ‘If there’s a problem you usually avoid it until it goes away …’

  ‘Which has always served me well.’

  The truth is, if it wasn’t for Lana’s intervention I would have done the same thing today. Chickened out at the last second. Pretended the whole thing wasn’t happening.