The Truth About Faking (The Truth About, #1)

10

Jake

On Tuesday, when Hanna and I have finished eating breakfast and have all our bags packed, we drive to Gemma's place. It's a small country-style house, painted a pastel yellow with white trim. Lining her driveway is an assemblage of white and periwinkle flowers, along with a few sunflowers. In her driveway sits a dark grey Ford Escape. On the small deck out front are two plastic red lawn chairs, both currently occupied by two familiar figures. I suppress a sigh of frustration. The last thing I need is Morgane and Gemma teaming up on me. I almost wish I would have agreed to allow Cassian to carpool with us. He's always had a way with comebacks and worming his way out of shit. But as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I shake my head, remembering that I'm still holding a grudge against him. He's the reason I'm stuck in this shitty situation. He's the reason I have to put up with Garcia and her slimy ways for the next two weeks – if Gemma and I's plan doesn't work, that is. I'm hoping she takes the bait and sees that Gemma and I are madly in love.

Hanna presses her face to the glass of the truck window, staring, wide-eyed, at the house as she says, "Ooo, Gemma's house is so pretty."

I pull into the driveway, shifting into park behind the Ford Escape. "It is," I agree, glancing at my sister. She's lightened up since school ended. I had been worried her final marks would take a nosedive with the oncoming stress of this charade, but she surprised me and managed to stay on the principal's list. It's a major improvement since our parents passed away. Back then, her grades were littered with Cs and a few Bs. I'm so proud of Hanna I can't even begin to describe it. And not only has she surpassed my expectations, but also the entire school staff that's been made aware of our situation. I'm thankful it's been smooth sailing this term and no questions or concerns regarding terms such as depression or social withdrawal have surfaced. It means she's healing and we're doing something right.

Removing the keys from the ignition, I quickly stuff them, along with my wallet, into the pocket of my cargo shorts. I turn to Hanna. "Are you ready for this?"

Hanna looks over her shoulder, nodding her head enthusiastically. Even though she's already met Gemma, panic starts to set in. It's not that I think this isn't going to work and steer Olive away from me – I touched base with some of Gemma's past clients and got the stamp of approval on her work. Apparently, she can do anything; she's unwaveringly reliable. What I am concerned about is the fact that my little sister already seems to have some kind of...connection with her. Hanna's never allowed herself to warm up to someone so quickly. Even the small group of friends she now has taken a while to gain.

I rub the heel of my hand against my chin, exhaling deeply. It's situations like these where I don't know if I should be concerned or not. One of my issues with acting as a parental figure has always been dictating where I should draw the line. And I'm not sure if this qualifies or not. I'm not sure if her taking an interest in Gemma is her way of maybe getting past the fact that she no longer has our mom to be a lead female role model in her life or if I'm just overreacting.