Just Another Secret.

Chapter 2

Kahlil

I wake up early. I couldn't really sleep. I went into a deep dive through the cottage. The only remote snack I found was a s'mores kit. At least it's something.

I clearly went into uncharted territories yesterday. She wants me to leave her alone. I want to make a right. I do so much wrong that I just want someone to know the real me. Not golden boy. Not the screw up. Not the pushover. Just Kahlil Hayes.

I beat myself up and avoid doing anything that would make her look across the lake but soon I get the courage to go out there.

I take some supplies with me.

"Kahlil go away." She says collecting dry sticks and grass.

"It's getting late."

"Yeah and I'm trying to tidy up before I head in for the evening."

"Keisha. I wanna start over—"

"You and I both know you are only over here because I'm the only other person out here and you have never been alone before."

I sigh. "You're right. I've never been alone. Have you ever had company? Do you hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you. I don't know you and you don't know me—"

"I want to. It's going to be a long summer. I want to show someone the real me. Can you be that person?" I pull out the s'mores as a suggestion.

She agrees.

We set up the fire pit.

Keisha breifly goes inside and comes back with a campfire stick.

"I'm not a people person." She says staring at the cackling flames.

I chuckle and speak sarcastically. "I couldn't tell."

She lightly shoves me. "People come and go. This was my Grandfather's cabin. He died when I was young. And he was my favourite person in the whole world. This was our place. I didn't like letting people in because I don't like seeing them leave too."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"I don't let myself think about it. I always do stuff that keeps me distracted. Being the centre of attention? I don't think that's for me."

"And you think that's all I'm about?"

"It's probably pretty privilege—"

I cut her off quickly, "You think I'm pretty?"

"I know that people in our grade put you up there when comparing other peoples looks."

I can't help but smirk. "You didn't answer the question."

She looks at me—really looks at me. She shrugs. "Yeah, you are pretty. Clear skin. Symmetrical face. I get why they call you the darkskin MBJ. But to me you look nothing like him. They are just bad at naming attractive dark skins."

"Who'd you compare me to then?"

"If Wesley Snipes, in the 80s and Morris Chestnut in the 90s had a love child." She smiles softly.

I give her a confused look. "That's such a strange—" I close my eyes because I know an actor who fits that characteristic and it's upsetting that I can see it. "Martin Bobb-Semple." I say.

Keisha's eyes widen. "Oh my gosh, I never thought of it that way before." She chuckles. "You just have a longer face."

"I don't think I've ever been called pretty before." I chuckle.