Page 122 of Fall Fake-Out

And for the first time, I find myself wondering if I’ve misunderstood our entire history.

Ari

By Tuesday afternoon, the face-painting booth had become one of the most popular attractions at the fall festival. Children swarm the tables while teenagers do their best to paint simple designs on their little faces.

Wade even joins in, painting a glittery pink butterfly on his niece’s face, and I can’t stop watching. I’ve seen him charm angry parents and convince an entire student section to do the wave, but I’ve never seen this version.

“Mia, I think the glitter paint was a great choice.” Wade smiles and brushes a loose strand of hair behind his niece’s ear before finishing the wing.

Something stirs in my chest. It’s easy to imagine Wade as the fun principal. The fun date. The fun guy. It’s much harder to ignore how natural he looks as he genuinely interacts with a child.

Mia scrunches her nose as if it itches. “I like glitter.”

I smile at her. “You look like a sparkly princess.”

Wade turns to me just for a moment, planting his paintbrush on my cheek. He draws something that feels suspiciously like a heart.

My eyes widen at Mia. “Is it a heart?”

Mia giggles as she nods.

“It’s all I know how to draw.” He turns back to his niece, continuing the elaborate butterfly wing, completely contradicting himself.

And even though it’s a basic, universal shape, I can’t stop wondering if he’s trying to tell me something.

“Okay, pretty girl.” Wade sits back. “You’re all finished.”

She jumps down and runs to the big mirror, smiling big when she sees herself. She runs back and throws her little arms around his neck. The sight does absolutely nothing helpful for my emotional stability.

“I’m going to show Mommy.” She turns and runs through the rows of chairs to find her parents.

Wade pats the empty seat beside him. “Your turn.”

“You already painted something on my cheek.”

“Well, at least let me finish it off by painting something else on your other cheek.”

“Do I trust you?” My eyes narrow, showing playful skepticism, but I sit anyway.

“I’ll be nice. Scout’s honor.” He dips the tip of his brush into paint and then writes something on my cheek.

“You’re writing your name, aren’t you?” My lips twitch. “It says Wade Stevenson across my face, doesn’t it?”

His smile is full of mischief. “Just marking my territory.” He grabs my chin, forcing my head to turn so he has access to the other cheek with the heart on it. Then I feel him paint a W on one side and an A on the other, connected by the heart he painted earlier. “There.” He leans back, admiring his work. “Now it’s perfect.”

I reach across the table for the hand mirror and check my reflection. I look like a walking advertisement promoting Wade Stevenson.

I glance at him. “Subtle.”

“Right?” He grins proudly.

Mia comes back to us, leaning against Wade. She points at my face. “What does it say?”

“Ari asked if I would write my name on her cheek, so it spells ‘Wade Stevenson.’”

“With a heart,” she adds with another giggle.

He shakes his head at her, a goofy grin covering his mouth. “Silly, huh?”