The Fake Out: An utterly hilarious and totally heart-warming romantic comedy
The Fake Out: Chapter 33

Do you have a name, or can I just call you mine?

—AMANDA H.

The dining room was as cheery and bright as the rest of the house. Sunlight shone through the oversized picture window, touching on the large table and matching sideboard. On the opposite wall, framed photos took up almost every inch.

Baby photos, school photos, fancy dress dances, candids of the family romping in a lake, or with Mickey Mouse ears, one of Chris dressed as Aladdin (which I needed to figure out how to steal), even a few of Millie in a hospital bed smiling widely with a devious glint in her eye. I recognized everyone save a tall, gangly girl with dark hair and big blue eyes. This had to be Ellie, although based on the Vegas video, she was a blonde now.

Although the subjects might be all over the place, there was one overarching theme: happiness. People don’t realize how blessed they are to have that sort of childhood. To have a childhood at all. I’d had to grow up fast. While I knew things had been tough for the Sterns, they’d had each other to lean on. I sighed, feeling a little sorry for myself and went in search of Margot to help with dinner.

At mealtime, I met the oldest and the youngest Sterns.

Unlike the rest of her family, Millie was petite, which Chris explained had to do with her heart condition limiting her growth, with blonde hair and an impish glint in her blue eyes. She bounced into the room and rounded the table to the only empty seat, which happened to be on Chris’s left side. I sat on his right.

“Hey”—she smacked her brother on the shoulder—“move over.”

Chris frowned. “Why?”

“Because I want to talk to Mae and you’re in the way.” With a hand on her hip, Millie stared down at him and waited.

“Yeah, Elmie,” I said. “Move over. I want to sit next to your sister.”

“They told you. Great.” Grumbling like the long-suffering brother he was, Chris moved over to the empty seat. “Good to see you, too.”

“Oh, please. I see you all the time.” Millie slid into the empty chair and smiled at me. “Mae, on the other hand, I have never seen.”

I’d never had a big family dinner like this. The closest I’d gotten was when Granny was alive. Most of our meals were eaten in front of the television, yelling out answers to Wheel of Fortune puzzles. But the Sterns were talkative and loud. They teased each other and chatted about their day. There were smiles and laughs.

I didn’t expect to enjoy it; I didn’t want to enjoy it. None of it was real. Or at least my part in all of it wasn’t. This would likely be the only time I’d be welcome here and I knew it was strange after only spending an afternoon with them, but that thought made me incredibly sad.

“Ellie called yesterday,” Luke said, his voice quiet and thoughtful. “She sounded better than she has in a while.”

Chris nodded. “We talked this week too. She’s got a new job.”

“I’ve been so worried about her,” Margot said. “I wish she’d just move back home. Then I could see Oliver and pinch his little chubby cheeks all the time.” She turned to me. “I’m sorry. Ellie’s our oldest daughter, three years younger than Chris. She lives out in California. I suppose with five kids, the odds are pretty high that at least one is going to move away from home.”

Luke put a hand on his wife’s arm to comfort her. “Maybe it’s time for another visit to see her.”

Millie pushed her empty plate to the side and sat back in her chair. “So, Mae, how much did my brother have to pay you to go out with him?”

I choked. On what, I wasn’t sure. Air? My tongue? How could she possibly know about our deal? I fumbled to pick up my glass of water. “H-he didn’t… I mean… well…”

Chris sighed. “It was one time. One time. And I was eleven.”

“Wait… what?”

“Tell the story, Betsy,” Millie said. “You’re so good at it.”

“As you wish.” She made a big show of standing and clearing her throat.

“Betsy was a theater kid.” Chris met my eyes over Millie’s head with a reluctant smile.

“Chris was in the sixth grade. Back then, he was still a shrimp.” Betsy held her thumb and forefinger up with perhaps an inch of space between them.

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were,” Margot said. “You were the cutest little bug.”

The sisters snickered at Chris’s pained expression.

“It was the week of his first dance, and he had a crush on an eighth grader. What was her name?”

“Cora,” Chris said quickly, falling right into Betsy’s trap.

Betsy smiled slyly. “Yes, that’s right. Cora. She was tall, had long red hair and was super smart; always had a book with her.”

The entire table’s eyes swung to me.

Margot smiled widely. “Would you look at that.”

“Guess he has a type,” Aggie said.

Chris winked at me. “Maybe I do.”

“Anyway, Chris spent days working up the courage to ask Cora to the dance. When he finally did, Cora told him she already had a boyfriend. There are rumors he cried when he got home.”

“I did not cry.” Chris leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “At least not in front of anyone.”

Margot cut in. “But the very next day, he arrived home from school and declared he had a date to the dance. He’s always been one to bounce right back up when he gets knocked down.”

“His date was the coolest eighth grade girl in school. She skipped classes, bragged about kissing boys, had been caught smoking cigarettes behind the football stadium, and she’d had her ears pierced. Twice.” Betsy leaned down so her face was next to Chris’s. “The whole school was talking about it. There was no way Vanessa Snow—see, even her name was cool?—would ever have been seen with a sixth grader.

“But she showed up to the dance and spent the whole night with Chris. I heard she even forewent her cigarette break to dance a slow dance with him. He became a legend that night.”

“Cora danced with me twice, thank you very much,” Chris said. “My plan worked.”

“Oh, it worked. But it cost Mr. Hot Stuff here his entire life savings,” Betsy said. “Didn’t it?”

“Fifty-four dollars and eighty-six cents,” Chris said. “Every last cent I had.”

I shook my head, confused. “But why?”

Aggie piped up. “He paid her to go to that dance with him.”

I tried to swallow my laughter but was not successful. “No, he didn’t.”

Betsy nodded. “He sure did.”

Chris sprawled in his chair, hands behind his head. “It was a good business decision. Besides being my first date, I also got my first kiss.”

“What did that cost you?” I asked.

“Not a single dime.” His smile was downright wolfish. “She gave that to me for free.”