Page 10 of The Fake Out

“Ali,” I said on a sigh.

“Do you know what a glitter bomb is?” Excitement sparked in her eyes.

“He hasn’t changed much,” Chris said. Ollie brought him over a glass of sweet tea, and he nodded his thanks.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Played football in college together. He was a blowhard then too.” He dug into the meatloaf with abandon. “This is good.”

Ali leaned forward to see around me. “Is it true you’re staying in town?”

Chris nodded. “For now.”

“Why?”

He set his fork down and took a long pull of his tea. “I have a little work to do in Houston. Thought I’d check it out.”

A glance at my phone told me I needed to get back to work. Although the library closed early on Fridays, I had to run home and change before the forty-five-minute drive into Houston. For my second job. The one I needed time to psych myself out for.

I stood and gathered up my things. Ollie slid a to-go carton across the counter.

“I didn’t order this,” I said.

“You need to eat.” He walked away before I could thank him. Ollie was good people.

“I’ll call you later,” I said to Ali.

She nodded and scooted over to my stool to sit next to Chris, eager to get closer to the sun, I guess.

“Have fun in Two Harts,” I said to Chris.

I was halfway to the door when he called out. “Oh, hey, Maebell, cowboys or pirates?”

“What?”

“For our book club? Cowboys or pirates?” He grinned. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll surprise you.”

FOUR

Was your mom a beaver? ’Cause damn!

—ALLISON A.

“Don’t you look nice,” Mama said. “Another night out?”

I shot her a small smile. “Yep.”

Nope. At least not the kind of night she thought.

After the bills started arriving, I knew we were in trouble and the only way out I could see was to make extra money. But I’d refused to tell Mama about the money or the job. The former because I didn’t want her to worry; the latter because I knew she’d try to talk me out of it.

I tugged on the fitted sparkly tank top I was wearing, something I wouldn’t normally be caught dead in because its itchiness far outweighed its cuteness. But to keep up the facade, I had to dress the part. As painful as that might be. Like these ridiculous high-heeled boots peeking out from under my jeans. I wanted to burn them. Instead, I would be wearing them all night.

“I’m so happy you’re getting out and having fun.” She shuffled to the small dining table and sat down slowly and carefully.

She’d insisted on making a simple dinner of chicken and rice tonight. Sometimes she pushed herself too hard just to prove she could do it. But tonight, she seemed steady on her feet and the pinched look she often got around her eyes when she was tired was missing.

“You’re too young to spend your Friday nights with your mother.”