Page 43 of Fall Fake-Out

“I know it was an accident, but perception matters, especially in a small town. And Wade Stevenson already has a reputation that’s somehow worse than yours.”

The way she says reputation makes my jaw tighten.

“Wade’s not that bad.”

Mom gives me a look. One that says Don’t even try to defend him.

And suddenly, I’m sixteen all over again.

Sneaking out. Getting caught. Being told I’m impulsive. That I have the wrong friends. Too reckless. Too much. While Landrie sat beside my mother on the couch, designing her next pageant dress and making responsible life choices like straight As and volunteer work.

My pen slips slightly, streaking ink across Alvina Lucinda Berkeley's envelope.

Mom immediately notices. “Oh, dear. Careful.”

Something in me starts folding inward.

Not dramatically.

Quietly.

The way it always does when I’m around her.

“I just don’t want you repeating the same mistakes,” she says softer now. “You always choose the exciting guy over the stable one, and it ends with you crying.”

The kitchen goes still.

Because we all know she’s not just talking about Wade.

She’s talking about Andy.

Four years with a man who could barely hold a job while I convinced myself love meant sparks and chemistry and “seeing potential.”

Landrie slowly sets down her pen, feeling the growing tension in the room. “Mom’s just worried because she doesn’t want you to end up hurt again.”

The thing about Landrie is she never means to make me feel worse. That’s almost the hardest part. She’s kind. Sweet. Easy to love. But she’s my younger sister, handing out advice to the problem child while I ruin her wedding invitations with my emotionally unstable handwriting.

“Landrie’s right,” my mom sighs. “I’m just worried about you. I watched your relationship with Andy for years, the way he took advantage of you, how you became a shell of the woman you once were. We’re just barely getting that side of you back. I don’t want to lose it again because of some guy you can’t stay away from.”

Her words are heartfelt, but they don’t help make me feel better. All I hear is Landrie’s right….shell of the woman you once were….some guy you can’t stay away from. It all just reinforces my biggest fears of never measuring up to Landrie.

The back door swings open before I can respond. September air rushes in alongside Wade and Jaxon.

“Well, the fish won today,” Jaxon announces.

“That’s because Jaxon talks too much to catch anything.” Dad looks up from the living room recliner, inserting himself in the conversation for the first time, probably to ease the tension from the seriousness of seconds ago.

“Fishing is about connection,” Jaxon laughs.

“It’s about fish,” Wade counters, then his eyes move to me and immediately narrow slightly, as if he’s the only one who notices the heaviness in the room.

Unfortunately, my mother notices his direct attention on me. “Speak of the devil,” she mutters.

“Mrs. Langford, have you been talking about me?” Wade grins, unaffected by her sour expression. “I’m honored.”

“You probably shouldn’t be.” She doesn’t smile back.

Jaxon walks over to Landrie automatically, kissing the top of her head before looking at the invitations spread across the table. “How many more do you have?”