Keeping You a Secret
Page 2
Mom sighed. "I appreciate your patience with her."
Like I had any.
"It won't be long now. You'll be leaving soon enough for college. Too soon." Mom tweaked my nose. She reached over to pluck Hannah off my stomach and asked, "Where's Seth going? Has he decided?"
"Stanford, last I heard." It was a subject we avoided like the plague. Seth wanted us to go to the same college, the probability of which was less than zero given the fact he could pick and choose. Seth had goals. He was going to be a microbiologist. By age twenty-five he'd be happily married with two point five kids, a dog, a three-car garage – the whole Big Mac with cheese. He said he couldn't stand the thought of us being separated for four years, that even if we didn't get into the same college we should try to stay close. As in proximity. He'd been pressing me to commit. To something, anything.
I rolled off the sofa and pushed to my feet. Stretched my back and yawned.
Mom said, "Did you get a new work schedule?"
"Not yet. I need to find out about swim team practices. I'll do that tomorrow, too." Trailing Mom and Hannah to the kitchen, I thought out loud, "God, I have a shitload of homework."
Mom twisted and frowned at me.
"Sorry, Hannie." I cupped my hands over her tiny ears. "You didn't hear Sissy's gutter mouth."
Mom evil-eyed me, but couldn't suppress her grin.
"Tell me again why I have to take so much crap this semester?" I lugged my duffel up to one stiff shoulder, my backpack to the other.
"Because you're going to need a scholarship. It isn't fair to expect Neal to pay for your college education, and what I've saved wouldn't cover one semester at Harvard."
Which she didn't have to worry about, since they declined my offer to sweep their hallowed halls for a mere forty grand a year.
"Those classes will look good on your transcript," Mom said. "Show you're serious."
"About majoring in masochism?"
She ignored me, "It'll put you that much further ahead. Oh, and ask Bonnie to loan you that book on private scholarships again, will you? Just in case."
Just in case I'm a universal reject.
"Holland?" Mom called at my back. "I was at the pharmacy picking up my prescription and they gave me your by mistake."
My face flared.
"It's on your desk. You can pay me back out of your next paycheck."
I mumbled, "Okay, thanks," and sprinted down the stairs. If she had her suspicions about Seth and me before, they were now confirmed. The crypt, otherwise known as my basement bedroom, was dim even with all the lights on. Mom and Neal had tried to transform it into a cozy cubbyhole, with curtains and bookshelves and partitions between our bedrooms. But it'd always be "the unfinished basement" to me.
It wasn't that I resented giving my old room to Hannah; it was having to share my privacy with the goddess of Goth. "Every other weekend," I reminded the holy rafters, drafty though they were. If Faith was going to be hanging around here that often, my friends would get their fill of me.
Sighing, I flung my pack on the bed and started stripping. The white pharmacy bag on the desk begged attention, so I snatched it up and carted it to the bathroom, ripping it open. Wow, I'd even forgotten to stop by after school and pick up my pills. I didn't remember calling in the refill, and my period ended two days ago. I was a wasted.
I popped out Monday and Tuesday. Caught up. Wouldn't Mom have a haemorrhage if I got pregnant in high school, too? She'd kill me. She had plans for Holland Jaeger. And they didn't include what Holland Jaeger wanted. Whatever that was. I threw on my grubby sweats and settled in for the duration.
***
The ringing of my cell phone jerked me out of Beowulf. I dogeared the page and riffled through my bag, catching the phone on the fourth ring, "Hello?"
"Babe, you need a study break?" Seth said in his most suggestive voice.
"Yeah, but if we do that, I'll never get back into it."
He chuckled. "Can I come over?"
I checked the time. Twenty to eleven. "For a little while. I haven't even started my calc problems."
"See you in ten," he said and hung up.
I refolded the phone and resumed reading. A few minutes later, a rap sounded on the basement window. I leapt off the bed and sprinted up the stairs, where Seth's face materialised in the back door window.
He took one step inside and peered into the kitchen. "Is Neal here?" he whispered.
"No, he's in Baltimore on business," I whispered back.
"The dragon lady asleep?"
I nodded.
Seth wiggled his eyebrows.
"I mean it, Seth. Not long, okay?"
He tip toed down the stairs behind me.
We'd gotten very good at fast and soundless sex. Maybe after a year it was supposed to be that way. Easy. Rehearsed. He took off a little before midnight, leaving me with another two hours of homework. New rule, I decided. Not on a school night. And that included Sunday. Wouldn't my mother be proud?
Chapter 3
Somebody splashed acid in my eyes – at least that's what it felt like. I dug around in my duffel for the case and removed my contacts. Sure, you could swim with contacts in, if you didn't mind going blind. Shit. Now i'd have to wear my glasses all day. I should've searched harder for my goggles this morning.
The locker across from me clanged open and I blinked up to my mirror. There she was, clutching a mega cup of coffee in her left hand, a donut between her teeth. As she reached down for something in her locker, she disappeared from view.
"Ow, ow, shit!"
I whirled. The plastic lid on her cup had fallen off and scalding coffee had poured down her arm. She was hopping around, holding her wrist. I unzipped my duffel and yanked out the first wet thing on top, then charged over and slapped it up against her arm. "Here, use this."
"Owww," she yowled.
I winced, knowing how that hurts. "Let me see. You could have third-degree burns."
She loosened the makeshift bandage and peered at her arm. Good, no blisters. Rash red, though. She smelled spicy, like cinnamon.
I glanced up to see her looking at me, hard. "Do you always carry around a wet swimsuit?" she asked. She indicated her arm, where I'd rewrapped my speedo.
"You never know when you might need one."
She laughed. Infectious.
"Thanks, Holland." She removed the suit. Tried to. My hands were gripping her arm so hard she had to pry them loose.
"Sorry." I let go fast. Rewind. Replay. She knows my name.
"I can't believe I did that." She rubbed her arm. "How am I going to get through the morning without coffee?" Holding the now empty cup, she retrieved chunks of coffee-soaked donut and dropped the soggy mess into the cup.
"There's a coffee machine in the cafeteria," I told her.
"Yeah?" Her eyes lit up. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver." She plucked my swimsuit off the floor and held it up by the crotch. "Literally."
I snatched it away and she smirked. Returning to my locker, I jammed the suit into the duffel and re-zipped it.
"Where do you swim?"
I sprang upright. She'd followed me and was leaning against the locker next to mine.
"In the pool." Well, duh. Holland. Dazzle her with your brilliant repartee. "The school's pool. Downstairs. Open swim begins at six and I can get a few laps in before first hour. My morning cup of coffee."
Her eyebrows arched. "You're seriously demented."
My stomach jumped. I wished it'd stop doing that.
"I'm Cece Goddard." She stuck out her hand.
"I know. Holland –"
"Jaeger. I Know." We both let out little laughs, nervous like, then shook hands. She Said, "You're student body president."
"How did you know that?"
She shrugged. "I asked around."
"Babe, hey." Seth's voice echoed down the hall. I realised I was still holding Cece's hand and dropped it fast. Why? We were just getting acquainted. He sauntered down the hall, a tower of books under his arm. His free hand snaked around my waist and pulled me into him. "Long time no do this." He bent down and kissed me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cece push off.
Seth finished with me and said, "Come on. I'll walk you to class."
I hauled down my lit and calc books, which Seth took and added to his stack. At the end of the hall, I glanced back over my shoulder to see her headed in the opposite direction.
She'd asked around. Huh. Why would she do that?
***
We headed toward the parking lot at lunchtime to rendezvous with everyone else at my Jeep. We'd decided to eat off campus at least a couple of days a week. On the way, I informed Seth of my no-school-night rule. He wasn't pleased. "I'll see what I can do about borrowing the Regal Friday night," he said.
"No, Seth. You know I hate doing it in your dad's car."
"Okay, I'll check to see if the villa's free."
He was mad. Great. "I'm sorry, but it's just gross."
"Then your place."
"Neal's coming back tomorrow," I told him.
Seth sulked all the way to Taco Bell. He didn't mind doing it right under my mother's nose, but horrors my stepfather should catch us. What was that, some kind of guy thing? Granted, Neal was the size of a linebacker, but underneath the blubber, he was a big teddy bear. Seth knew that.
He was still sullen half an hour later when we got back to school. "I hate this," he said, stalling at the door after the others had gone in.
"Yeah, me too."
He lifted my chin with a finger. "Let's just get married."
"Okay. After Econ, though, because I have an assignment to turn it. And we're not consummating the union in your dad's Regal."
Seth blinked. "You're assuming we'd make it out of the church."
I kicked him and he wrestled me into his arms.
***
I resumed my same seat in art. I always do that, pick a spot the first day and never move. What does that say about me? Boring and predictable. Everyone else had shifted around. Winslow, geek-cum-punk, slid in beside me. "Yo," he said.
"Yo yourself," I said back.
She wasn't in her seat. I scanned the studio and located her a couple of tables over, by the picture window. She was turned away from me, gazing outside.
Look at me, I thought. Look at me, look at me, LOOKATME.
God, Holland. Shut if off. What was that about? I concentrated on doodling in my spiral. Concentrated on not looking at her.
Mackel rushed in, balancing a stack of videotapes on a slide carousel. "Sorry I'm late." He dumped the load on his desk. "Roll call. Everyone here? Good." He opened a drawer and pulled out a ream of blank newsprint. "Pass these around," he said, splitting the paper between the front two tables. "My stash of pencils has gone AWOL, so use whatever you've got. Pencil, pen, lipstick."
As Winslow passed me a sheet of paper, I saw Mackel drag a tall stool over to the front and set an apple on the seat. "Draw this," he said, spreading his arms dramatically over the stool.
I panicked. If this is a test, I thought, I'm toast. It took a while to focus my attention on the task at hand, distracted as I was by Brandi passing Cece a pencil and Cece smiling thanks. She had a nice smile. I wondered how her arm was, if I should ask. Ask why she asked around about me. I studied the assignment. Granny Smith apple. Sour. My mouth watered. The best ones for pies, though, Mom always said.
A few minutes into it, my cell rang. "Shit," I hissed under my breath. I must've forgotten to turn it off. Naturally, the phone had fallen to the bottom of my bag, under layers of detritus. It rang and rang. I finally fished it out. "What?"
"Hey, babe."
"Seth, I'm in class," I whispered and ducked my head, as if that was going to make me invisible.
"So am I," he whispered back. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about earlier. About being such a grump."
"It's all right."
"I love you."
"Yeah, me too. Hang up, goon." I folded the phone. "Sorry," I said to Mackel, and all the other people around me who were gawking. Including Cece. I rolled my eyes and she grinned.
It took me a minute to remember the assignment. Get going again. Once I concentrated my energies, time flew. Mackel stood up. "Okay," He said, startling me. "Sign your masterpieces somewhere, front preferably, with your own name preferable, and hand them in. You won't get graded. I just want first crack at the next budding Picasso."
I glanced over my drawing. Not bad. I'd captured the essence of form, anyway. I watched as her essence of form exited the door with Brandi.
***
We had a student council meeting after school. I called the meeting to order, then deferred to our new faculty advisor, Mr Olander. He asked us to introduce ourselves, tell what class we were in, what office we held. Seth he already knew. Probably from bio or something, since Mr. Olander was the new head of the science department.
Seth ended his spiel with, "And I'm Holland's vice," which cracked everyone up. I'm not sure Olander got is. He was going to be as fun as a box of mold.
The council was composed of six class representatives, plus officers. Kirsten was secretary. Olander asked her to please read the minutes of the last meeting we'd held before break. She did, then flipped her steno pad, and added, "Oh, and we voted. It was unanimous. Our new faculty rep would have to strip to his tighty-whitelys and do the chicken dance at an all-school assembly."
Like I had any.
"It won't be long now. You'll be leaving soon enough for college. Too soon." Mom tweaked my nose. She reached over to pluck Hannah off my stomach and asked, "Where's Seth going? Has he decided?"
"Stanford, last I heard." It was a subject we avoided like the plague. Seth wanted us to go to the same college, the probability of which was less than zero given the fact he could pick and choose. Seth had goals. He was going to be a microbiologist. By age twenty-five he'd be happily married with two point five kids, a dog, a three-car garage – the whole Big Mac with cheese. He said he couldn't stand the thought of us being separated for four years, that even if we didn't get into the same college we should try to stay close. As in proximity. He'd been pressing me to commit. To something, anything.
I rolled off the sofa and pushed to my feet. Stretched my back and yawned.
Mom said, "Did you get a new work schedule?"
"Not yet. I need to find out about swim team practices. I'll do that tomorrow, too." Trailing Mom and Hannah to the kitchen, I thought out loud, "God, I have a shitload of homework."
Mom twisted and frowned at me.
"Sorry, Hannie." I cupped my hands over her tiny ears. "You didn't hear Sissy's gutter mouth."
Mom evil-eyed me, but couldn't suppress her grin.
"Tell me again why I have to take so much crap this semester?" I lugged my duffel up to one stiff shoulder, my backpack to the other.
"Because you're going to need a scholarship. It isn't fair to expect Neal to pay for your college education, and what I've saved wouldn't cover one semester at Harvard."
Which she didn't have to worry about, since they declined my offer to sweep their hallowed halls for a mere forty grand a year.
"Those classes will look good on your transcript," Mom said. "Show you're serious."
"About majoring in masochism?"
She ignored me, "It'll put you that much further ahead. Oh, and ask Bonnie to loan you that book on private scholarships again, will you? Just in case."
Just in case I'm a universal reject.
"Holland?" Mom called at my back. "I was at the pharmacy picking up my prescription and they gave me your by mistake."
My face flared.
"It's on your desk. You can pay me back out of your next paycheck."
I mumbled, "Okay, thanks," and sprinted down the stairs. If she had her suspicions about Seth and me before, they were now confirmed. The crypt, otherwise known as my basement bedroom, was dim even with all the lights on. Mom and Neal had tried to transform it into a cozy cubbyhole, with curtains and bookshelves and partitions between our bedrooms. But it'd always be "the unfinished basement" to me.
It wasn't that I resented giving my old room to Hannah; it was having to share my privacy with the goddess of Goth. "Every other weekend," I reminded the holy rafters, drafty though they were. If Faith was going to be hanging around here that often, my friends would get their fill of me.
Sighing, I flung my pack on the bed and started stripping. The white pharmacy bag on the desk begged attention, so I snatched it up and carted it to the bathroom, ripping it open. Wow, I'd even forgotten to stop by after school and pick up my pills. I didn't remember calling in the refill, and my period ended two days ago. I was a wasted.
I popped out Monday and Tuesday. Caught up. Wouldn't Mom have a haemorrhage if I got pregnant in high school, too? She'd kill me. She had plans for Holland Jaeger. And they didn't include what Holland Jaeger wanted. Whatever that was. I threw on my grubby sweats and settled in for the duration.
***
The ringing of my cell phone jerked me out of Beowulf. I dogeared the page and riffled through my bag, catching the phone on the fourth ring, "Hello?"
"Babe, you need a study break?" Seth said in his most suggestive voice.
"Yeah, but if we do that, I'll never get back into it."
He chuckled. "Can I come over?"
I checked the time. Twenty to eleven. "For a little while. I haven't even started my calc problems."
"See you in ten," he said and hung up.
I refolded the phone and resumed reading. A few minutes later, a rap sounded on the basement window. I leapt off the bed and sprinted up the stairs, where Seth's face materialised in the back door window.
He took one step inside and peered into the kitchen. "Is Neal here?" he whispered.
"No, he's in Baltimore on business," I whispered back.
"The dragon lady asleep?"
I nodded.
Seth wiggled his eyebrows.
"I mean it, Seth. Not long, okay?"
He tip toed down the stairs behind me.
We'd gotten very good at fast and soundless sex. Maybe after a year it was supposed to be that way. Easy. Rehearsed. He took off a little before midnight, leaving me with another two hours of homework. New rule, I decided. Not on a school night. And that included Sunday. Wouldn't my mother be proud?
Chapter 3
Somebody splashed acid in my eyes – at least that's what it felt like. I dug around in my duffel for the case and removed my contacts. Sure, you could swim with contacts in, if you didn't mind going blind. Shit. Now i'd have to wear my glasses all day. I should've searched harder for my goggles this morning.
The locker across from me clanged open and I blinked up to my mirror. There she was, clutching a mega cup of coffee in her left hand, a donut between her teeth. As she reached down for something in her locker, she disappeared from view.
"Ow, ow, shit!"
I whirled. The plastic lid on her cup had fallen off and scalding coffee had poured down her arm. She was hopping around, holding her wrist. I unzipped my duffel and yanked out the first wet thing on top, then charged over and slapped it up against her arm. "Here, use this."
"Owww," she yowled.
I winced, knowing how that hurts. "Let me see. You could have third-degree burns."
She loosened the makeshift bandage and peered at her arm. Good, no blisters. Rash red, though. She smelled spicy, like cinnamon.
I glanced up to see her looking at me, hard. "Do you always carry around a wet swimsuit?" she asked. She indicated her arm, where I'd rewrapped my speedo.
"You never know when you might need one."
She laughed. Infectious.
"Thanks, Holland." She removed the suit. Tried to. My hands were gripping her arm so hard she had to pry them loose.
"Sorry." I let go fast. Rewind. Replay. She knows my name.
"I can't believe I did that." She rubbed her arm. "How am I going to get through the morning without coffee?" Holding the now empty cup, she retrieved chunks of coffee-soaked donut and dropped the soggy mess into the cup.
"There's a coffee machine in the cafeteria," I told her.
"Yeah?" Her eyes lit up. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver." She plucked my swimsuit off the floor and held it up by the crotch. "Literally."
I snatched it away and she smirked. Returning to my locker, I jammed the suit into the duffel and re-zipped it.
"Where do you swim?"
I sprang upright. She'd followed me and was leaning against the locker next to mine.
"In the pool." Well, duh. Holland. Dazzle her with your brilliant repartee. "The school's pool. Downstairs. Open swim begins at six and I can get a few laps in before first hour. My morning cup of coffee."
Her eyebrows arched. "You're seriously demented."
My stomach jumped. I wished it'd stop doing that.
"I'm Cece Goddard." She stuck out her hand.
"I know. Holland –"
"Jaeger. I Know." We both let out little laughs, nervous like, then shook hands. She Said, "You're student body president."
"How did you know that?"
She shrugged. "I asked around."
"Babe, hey." Seth's voice echoed down the hall. I realised I was still holding Cece's hand and dropped it fast. Why? We were just getting acquainted. He sauntered down the hall, a tower of books under his arm. His free hand snaked around my waist and pulled me into him. "Long time no do this." He bent down and kissed me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cece push off.
Seth finished with me and said, "Come on. I'll walk you to class."
I hauled down my lit and calc books, which Seth took and added to his stack. At the end of the hall, I glanced back over my shoulder to see her headed in the opposite direction.
She'd asked around. Huh. Why would she do that?
***
We headed toward the parking lot at lunchtime to rendezvous with everyone else at my Jeep. We'd decided to eat off campus at least a couple of days a week. On the way, I informed Seth of my no-school-night rule. He wasn't pleased. "I'll see what I can do about borrowing the Regal Friday night," he said.
"No, Seth. You know I hate doing it in your dad's car."
"Okay, I'll check to see if the villa's free."
He was mad. Great. "I'm sorry, but it's just gross."
"Then your place."
"Neal's coming back tomorrow," I told him.
Seth sulked all the way to Taco Bell. He didn't mind doing it right under my mother's nose, but horrors my stepfather should catch us. What was that, some kind of guy thing? Granted, Neal was the size of a linebacker, but underneath the blubber, he was a big teddy bear. Seth knew that.
He was still sullen half an hour later when we got back to school. "I hate this," he said, stalling at the door after the others had gone in.
"Yeah, me too."
He lifted my chin with a finger. "Let's just get married."
"Okay. After Econ, though, because I have an assignment to turn it. And we're not consummating the union in your dad's Regal."
Seth blinked. "You're assuming we'd make it out of the church."
I kicked him and he wrestled me into his arms.
***
I resumed my same seat in art. I always do that, pick a spot the first day and never move. What does that say about me? Boring and predictable. Everyone else had shifted around. Winslow, geek-cum-punk, slid in beside me. "Yo," he said.
"Yo yourself," I said back.
She wasn't in her seat. I scanned the studio and located her a couple of tables over, by the picture window. She was turned away from me, gazing outside.
Look at me, I thought. Look at me, look at me, LOOKATME.
God, Holland. Shut if off. What was that about? I concentrated on doodling in my spiral. Concentrated on not looking at her.
Mackel rushed in, balancing a stack of videotapes on a slide carousel. "Sorry I'm late." He dumped the load on his desk. "Roll call. Everyone here? Good." He opened a drawer and pulled out a ream of blank newsprint. "Pass these around," he said, splitting the paper between the front two tables. "My stash of pencils has gone AWOL, so use whatever you've got. Pencil, pen, lipstick."
As Winslow passed me a sheet of paper, I saw Mackel drag a tall stool over to the front and set an apple on the seat. "Draw this," he said, spreading his arms dramatically over the stool.
I panicked. If this is a test, I thought, I'm toast. It took a while to focus my attention on the task at hand, distracted as I was by Brandi passing Cece a pencil and Cece smiling thanks. She had a nice smile. I wondered how her arm was, if I should ask. Ask why she asked around about me. I studied the assignment. Granny Smith apple. Sour. My mouth watered. The best ones for pies, though, Mom always said.
A few minutes into it, my cell rang. "Shit," I hissed under my breath. I must've forgotten to turn it off. Naturally, the phone had fallen to the bottom of my bag, under layers of detritus. It rang and rang. I finally fished it out. "What?"
"Hey, babe."
"Seth, I'm in class," I whispered and ducked my head, as if that was going to make me invisible.
"So am I," he whispered back. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about earlier. About being such a grump."
"It's all right."
"I love you."
"Yeah, me too. Hang up, goon." I folded the phone. "Sorry," I said to Mackel, and all the other people around me who were gawking. Including Cece. I rolled my eyes and she grinned.
It took me a minute to remember the assignment. Get going again. Once I concentrated my energies, time flew. Mackel stood up. "Okay," He said, startling me. "Sign your masterpieces somewhere, front preferably, with your own name preferable, and hand them in. You won't get graded. I just want first crack at the next budding Picasso."
I glanced over my drawing. Not bad. I'd captured the essence of form, anyway. I watched as her essence of form exited the door with Brandi.
***
We had a student council meeting after school. I called the meeting to order, then deferred to our new faculty advisor, Mr Olander. He asked us to introduce ourselves, tell what class we were in, what office we held. Seth he already knew. Probably from bio or something, since Mr. Olander was the new head of the science department.
Seth ended his spiel with, "And I'm Holland's vice," which cracked everyone up. I'm not sure Olander got is. He was going to be as fun as a box of mold.
The council was composed of six class representatives, plus officers. Kirsten was secretary. Olander asked her to please read the minutes of the last meeting we'd held before break. She did, then flipped her steno pad, and added, "Oh, and we voted. It was unanimous. Our new faculty rep would have to strip to his tighty-whitelys and do the chicken dance at an all-school assembly."
