Page 102 of The Fake Out

“I’m about to say words I never in my life I thought I’d say.” Mrs. Katz didn’t look happy about it either. “Yes, Horace, what a good idea.”

Horace grinned.

“I’d be happy to help any way I can.” Chris said. “How much money do you need to raise?”

“A lot,” Horace said. “A hundred thousand dollars.”

Chris leaned forward. “I could just donate the money.”

Several gasps made their way around the room.

“No!” I said much too loudly and then took a calming breath. “I mean, that’s an amazing offer, but the library needs to learn to stand on its own. We might not always have you around to rescue us.”

“But, Mae, that would solve all our problems, wouldn’t it?” Sarah asked.

I didn’t want to rely on Chris, not when I knew his presence was fleeting. It would be hard enough to cut him out of my life, but I didn’t want to be responsible for breaking the hearts of the entire town.

“We’ll handle it.” I could feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I refused to look his way. I would not bend on this.

“I’m sure we cannot handle it,” Melinda said.

“I agree,” Horace chimed in. “We could use his help.”

Sighing, I turned to stare at Chris. “You can help. But you will not donate a hundred thousand dollars to the library. Understood?”

Chris nodded, looking far too serious and innocent. I should have known he was already up to something.

“Well,” Mrs. Katz cut in, smiling broadly at Chris like he’d just named every single capital and state in alphabetical order, “it’s settled then. Welcome to the committee, young man.”

FORTY-FIVE

Did you just see that? (As he points in the direction he came from.)

No, see what?

I just slid into your world with a pickup line, and you never even saw it coming.

—NONIE S.M.

Three days later, Iris stomped into the library with an expression on her face that warned of danger and possible violence.

“You heard from Dad yet?” she asked by way of a greeting.

“My darling sister, it is nice to see you, too.”

She hopped up on the circulation desk and crossed her arms. “Well?”

“One, get off the desk, and two, I haven’t heard anything.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you’re even calling? Maybe you’re just telling me you are.”

“Really, Iris? He won’t respond and somehow, it’s my fault?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Fine. I just…”

“What?”

“The school wants to know how many tickets I need for graduation. They’re limited, or whatever.” She brushed a chunk of black hair out of her eyes impatiently. Her voice broke with her next words. “I just want to know, okay? I don’t understand why he can’t call back.”