Faking Faith (18 page)

The rest of the table turned to stare at me. Abigail in particular gave me an exasperated look. “Oh, I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just … you have something gross in your teeth. Right there.”

I knew that would bother a fastidious guy like Beau, with his carefully slicked hair that reminded me of Blake once I’d made the connection. He picked at his mouth anxiously and bared his teeth to everyone. “Is it gone?”

I glanced over at Mr. Dean, who was openly glaring at me. “Well, now, that’s not very polite is it?” he said. He tried to laugh jovially, but it came out fake and forced.

“Mama, Daddy,” Abigail said, in an obvious attempt to diffuse tension, “Faith’s mother called today and it turns out she really wants her home sooner than planned. So Faith is leaving tomorrow on the bus. This will be her last night here.”

“Oh no!” said Mrs. Dean. The little kids sang a chorus of “Don’t go!” Asher looked wide-eyed down at his plate and wouldn’t even meet my glance.

“Why does she need you back?” Mrs. Dean asked, pouting. “We so wanted to keep you forever!”

“Um,” I said, my mind blank, and Abigail nudged me under the table. “She needs me home to help out because she’s … um … sick.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Dean. “That’s terrible!”

“I’m sure she’ll be okay, she just misses me,” I said in a rush. I slowly raised my eyes to look at Asher. He was still staring down at his plate, and my stomach sunk. I still had a lot of explaining to do tonight.

“That’s all too bad,” said Mr. Dean. “But we will pray for your safe travels, Faith. Won’t we, children?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all replied dutifully.

“But I’m sure Abigail will be glad to have you, her dear friend, here tonight,” continued Mr. Dean. “Because it turns out this is the most important night of her life.”

We all turned to look at Abigail, whose eyes went wide.

“It … is?”

“Yes, child. Because this fine gentleman right here,” he said, indicating Beau, who assumed a smarmy smile as we all turned to look at him instead, “has just requested to be given your hand in courtship. And I, after some consideration, have given him my permission.”

“How wonderful!” burst out Mrs. Dean, and then clapped her hands to her mouth when Mr. Dean gave her a stern look. “Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, Mama, it is a wonderful occasion,” he said with a smile. Then he looked at Abigail. “What do you say to that, girl?”

I looked over at Abigail, whose face was so tense I could almost see the muscles in her mouth quivering. I noticed she hadn’t eaten any of her food.

“That’s … that’s really amazing. I don’t even know what to say,” she said. Each word appeared to take so much effort, I was surprised she didn’t burst apart. “Praise God. I’m so happy, Daddy.”

All of the kids around the table erupted into excited whispers.

“Does that mean they’re gonna get married and have a baby?” asked Luke loudly. “Like Elijah and Rachel?”

“That’s what I hope for, of course,” said Beau, in such a self-satisfied tone that I wanted to throw my plate at him.

I was still watching Abigail. She glanced over at Beau and smiled demurely, and he grinned back at her.

“What do you say, Abigail?” he said. “Shall we pray over it together and see where the Lord leads us?”

“Only if you have an escort to make sure there are no shenanigans!” sang Mrs. Dean, looking around at the little kids. “Fortunately, we have lots of good little escorts here, don’t we?”

The children all smiled and wiggled in their seats, familiar with the procedure. Even if Beau and Abigail were practically engaged, it didn’t mean they could be alone yet.

“How about we go sit on the front porch, darling?” said Beau. “We’ll have ourselves a little prayer and a talk.”

“Okay, whatever you’d like to do, Beau,” said Abigail softly, in a submissive voice that broke my heart on the spot.

She had completely given up.

TWENTY-THREE

S
ince Abigail was out on the porch with Beau and Chastity, who was acting as the first escort, Asher helped his mom and me clear the table.

“Isn’t that sweet, a man helping out around the house? Asher’s always been so good at that,” simpered his mom. “Faith, you need to find yourself a good boy like this one!”

She ruffled his hair and walked away. Asher rolled his eyes and gave me a small smile.

“You’re really leaving so quick?” he murmured, when Mrs. Dean was far enough away not to hear.

“Yes, and I need to talk to you before I go,” I whispered back.

“Okay. The barn, after prayers,” he replied, and walked away with a stack of dirty dishes.

The hours ticked slowly by. Abigail and Beau came back inside, holding hands, the first time they were officially allowed to touch each other. Beau was strutting proudly, like he’d won a prize at the fair. And Abigail looked quietly defeated, her shoulders hunched a little, even as she smiled. They sat next to each other on a love seat during prayers, as the younger kids took turns staring at them to make sure there wasn’t any funny business. It would have been sweet and comical if it weren’t so … gross.

Mr. Dean said a long prayer for the courting couple, asking for the Heavenly Father to send wisdom to their hearts as they embarked on their new path together. I sat and silently seethed, wondering what Jesus would really think of a man who cornered a teenaged girl in a barn and molested her and got away with it.

Not only got away with it, but then managed to get engaged to her, convincing her that’s what she’d wanted all along. That she had asked for it.

It was so upsetting that I had to block it all out and concentrate on more pleasant things. Such as watching Asher as surreptitiously as possible. Occasionally he glanced back at me, and our eyes would meet for a second like a swift electric shock.

My mind drifted away from the prayers as I thought about how he might react to the truth about me. I dreamed of a best-case scenario in which he gave up his fanatical family and moved to Chicago to go to college. And then we could date like normal people and hang out and do couple-y things and thereby make my senior year of high school livable.

But who was I kidding? When he found out, he would think I was a horrible selfish lying jerk, and it would be the truth. Even my best-case scenario was selfish, because it involved him abandoning his family and home and beliefs and everything he’d ever known. And all for what? Me? Like that was worth it?

The best thing I could do was just go away and leave him in peace.

I decided I shouldn’t hope for much. Any end result in which he didn’t end up hating my guts would have to be good enough.

. . .

When the final evening-prayer amens were said and everyone was milling around before bed, I saw Asher slip out the back door. After a few minutes, I followed him, running silently across the dewy backyard on bare feet.

He was standing where we’d first kissed, leaning against the back of the barn and watching the sky, arms crossed against his chest.

“Asher,” I said softly, and he turned. Without a word, he walked up and took me in his arms, hugging me against him. After my surprise wore off, I put my arms around him too, and for a minute we were just two nameless people under the stars, standing so close it was like we were a single unit.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t say anything to Dad about Beau. Not now that Abigail told me not to. Not now that it’s official. It’s what she wants. It wouldn’t make a difference.”

I swallowed hard. “I know. I just wish it weren’t true.”

He moved his face down the side of my head and took a deep breath.

“But I’m glad that you told me. And I hate that you’re leaving,” he said into my hair. “Is it because Abigail’s angry that you told me?”

“Yes,” I said, already feeling choked up. He smelled like fresh-cut grass and clean boy, and I inhaled deeply, wishing I could somehow bottle that scent up and save it for later. When I was alone again.

“I’ll miss you so much, Faith,” he said. “You’re not like any girl I’ve ever met before.”

“Really?” I said, soaking up the last few moments before I’d have to tell him the truth and make him hate me.

“You’re the only girl I know who makes me feel …
normal.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said.

I closed my eyes against his chest, hugging him harder and wishing I actually was Faith. Because maybe that way I could see him again, and maybe we could both help each other feel normal and loved. It felt so unfair.

This is all my fault,
I thought.
It’s my fault and I have to make it right.

With a grimace, I pushed away from him, wiping my eyes. I stumbled a few feet farther away until I was almost outside of the circle of the barn light, far enough away so I couldn’t smell him anymore.

“Faith?” he said worriedly.

“Asher, I have to tell you something,” I said in a shaking voice. I stopped, trying to collect myself.

“What?”

“I … I don’t even know how to say this.”

He came up behind me and put his big hands on my shoulders. “Start at the beginning?” he suggested. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

I took a deep breath. Then another. Then one more for good measure. The oxygen started to make me feel a little lightheaded.

“My name isn’t Faith,” I said in a rush. “My name is Dylan and I’m from a suburb of Chicago and I honestly don’t even know if I believe in God. I lied about all of that. I pretended to be Faith because I got a little … well … obsessed with your family and religion and Abigail’s blog and we became friends and when she invited me to visit because she thought I was Faith, I came because I wanted to see it for myself.”

His hands went slack. Then they were gone.

I turned around to look at his face, which was blank and staring at some unseen point out in the darkness of the field. His arms hung down by his sides.

“But, Asher, even though I lied about my name and, um, all those other things, I didn’t lie about me,” I said, heart racing. “I mean, this is who I am, this person in front of you who’s talking to you right now. I’m not some amazing actress … I wasn’t faking my personality or anything. Well, not most of it. And I really do like you and think you’re sweet and awesome and completely and totally normal. I mean,
I
do, as Dylan. I really, really like you.”

He continued staring blankly.

I gave him a few more seconds. “Asher? Will you … will you please say something?”

For the first time, he looked at me. Like he was surprised I was still there.

“Wh-wh-what am I supposed to say?” he asked, his voice scratchy.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Whatever you’re feeling. Go ahead and throw it at me. I can take it.”

He cocked his head to the side, as if processing, and after a few more moments, he asked, “Does Abigail know?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “She sort of … found out. My mom called my cell phone and Abigail picked it up. She figured it out from there.”

“So your parents didn’t know you were here?”

“No,” I said. “They think I’m at a camp. In Springfield.”

“Oh.”

He went back to leaning against the hay bales. I followed him at a distance, giving him some space.

“Don’t you have anything else to say?” I asked after a few moments.

He looked at me and shrugged. “You know, I guess it all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

He shrugged again. “Why you are the way you are.”

“How am I?”

He almost cracked a smile. “Unconcerned with … you know, all the cussing. For example.”

“It’s true. I have kind of a dirty mouth sometimes,” I said, giving him a small smile back.

“And the kissing,” he said.

I gave an embarrassed shrug. “I kind of like kissing. And I’m sorry if that freaked you out. I feel like maybe I pushed you.”

Asher actually laughed. “Um, it wasn’t anything I didn’t want too,” he pointed out. “I pushed you, too.”

But then he pursed his lips together, looking disturbed.

“So have you … have you had boyfriends before?” he asked.

I nodded, reluctantly, wishing I didn’t have to count a terrible boyfriend like Blake. “Just one. Barely.”

“Oh,” he said, looking down at the ground.

“See, well, people do that where I live,” I said. “Have boyfriends and girlfriends and hook up and things. It’s not like—”

“I know that,” he said shortly. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve seen stuff like that … I mean, at least a little bit.”

“Right. Abigail told me about your girlfriend,” I said. “How your dad made you break up with her and quit college.”

Asher hugged his arms around his chest. “Yeah. I figured she told you about that.”

“So … do you still love that girl?” I asked, cringing off into the darkness as I waited for a reply.