037. The Last Secret
At Aquino High, I think some secrets are best kept in the dark.
I wake up the next morning with a heavy arm wrapped around me. It's clinging tight to my waist, and once I've woken up a little more I realize it's attached to a strong torso and clearly defined abs that I can feel pressed up against my back.
I roll over, simultaneously rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Taylor is still asleep, his characteristically stern features relaxed and his forehead smoothed where it's usually creased. I want to reach out and trace my fingers along the contours of his face, feeling his angled jawline and the sharp curve of his nose and how slack the usually tight line of his lips is.
With half-open eyes I study him for several minutes, admiring the way the gentle morning light creates fascinating shadows on his bare skin. There's no denying that he's beautiful.
One of our phones buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach over to fumble with it. Allison's texting me, and I squint against the harsh light of the screen to read her message. Why aren't you in class? Mrs. Rutledge is pissed lol. You're supposed to be here for the quiz.
I sit up straighter, suddenly very awake. The clock on my phone reads nine o'clock—we overslept. Scooting back over to Taylor, I shake his shoulders as hard as I can, startling him awake.
"Erika?" he asks blearily.
"Get up!" I swing my legs over the side of the bed, smoothing out my t-shirt. "We're late for school."
"So what?" His arm curls around my waist and effortlessly pulls me back against him as he kisses the back of my neck. "Stay here a little longer. I guarantee you aren't missing anything important."
It's hard to concentrate with his lips on me, but I force out a coherent sentence. "Actually, I'm supposed to be taking a calc quiz right now."
"And? You're already valedictorian."
"That's not the point." Frustrated, I wriggle out of his grasp. "I'm heading to school. Come with me if you want."
He watches as I shrug out of my t-shirt and into my clothes, flattening my lips into a thin line as I realize I'll have to stop at home first. People will definitely notice if I'm wearing the same clothes I wore to school yesterday, especially since they're rumpled from lying in a pile for so long.
I grab my phone and head out of the bedroom, calling after me, "Text me, okay?"
"Can't. I lost my phone."
"Whose phone is that on the nightstand then?"
There's a rustling and then he says, "Liam's, right? Didn't you have it yesterday?"
"Right." After everything that's happened I'd almost forgotten. "I'll return it to him. It's locked and there nothing we can gain from it anyway."
He doesn't argue so I tuck the phone into my pocket before heading down the stairs. I feel almost ashamed as I let myself out of his house and jog towards my car. My hair's a mess, I'm wearing no makeup, and yesterday's clothes are haphazardly draped across my body as if I'm tricking myself into thinking I'm put together. By the time I go home and get ready, I'll be lucky to make it to school by third period.
I text Allison to let her know not to worry, even though I'm already expecting a barrage of questions about last night's events. I have no idea how I'll cover for myself, but I put that aside to worry about later.
My house is empty when I get home—Dad's at work and Allison's in school, exactly where I should be. I get ready in record time and grab a muffin on my way back out, surprisingly hungry despite all my stress. For the first time in a while, I push the speed limit and make it to school just as second period is ending.
I feel refreshed, a result of a good night's sleep. I'd felt secure in Taylor's room, and his arms around me had convinced me that nobody could hurt me while he was there. I'd slept soundly with no disruptions and no nightmares, and when I'd looked in the mirror this morning the dark circles hadn't been quite so prominent.
My sense of peace doesn't last for long, though. As I head to AP Government Allison grabs my arm and tugs me to the corner of the hallway, her eyes wide.
"Where were you last night?" she demands. "You got lucky Dad had an overnight business trip and didn't notice you were gone."
"I—" My mouth is frozen, halfway open, my jaw stuck. I can't ask anybody to cover for me because that would prompt an explanation. And yet what else can I say?
My mind operates in overdrive for several seconds, my eyes tracing the links on Allison's chain necklace. Then I take a deep breath and plunge in. "I—you can't tell anyone this, okay? I'm serious. Don't breathe a word."
"Okay," she says, but now her blue eyes look like they're about to pop out of her head.
"I slept over at Spencer's last night. I know we're broken up, that's why I don't want anyone to know. Don't even talk to him about it. He—I think he was kind of drunk, he probably doesn't even remember. Seriously. It'll make things more complicated if you say anything. Just forget it ever happened, okay?"
"Okay..." She trails off, but then lights up again. "Erika, no way! Did you sleep with him? You were a virgin, right?"
"Yeah, sure." I run my hands through my hair, which I realize I'd forgotten to brush. It's still matted and infused with static from Taylor's sheets. "I guess we had sex. Whatever. No big deal."
I want this conversation to end, because it borders too close to the truth. Same situation, different guy. I'm telling Allison too much for comfort.
"Are you okay? You look a little shaken up. And Spencer's in calc class today. Did you stay at his house later than him?"
My stomach drops, and for a second I think my lie is already backfiring. But I recover almost too easily, a sign of all the practice I've had at deception, and say breezily, "I'm fine. And I went back to my house to freshen up and stuff. I just needed some time."
Allison nods sagely. "I'm sure Mrs. Rutledge will let you make up the quiz. Now hurry up or you'll be late for third period."
My head is still spinning but I obediently leave her and jog up the stairs. For the first time I feel immense guilt from lying. It doesn't matter that I did it to protect myself—Allison's my sister and my best friend. Does she deserve this?
~*~*~
Lunchtime finds me still guilty. I'm seated between Allison and Spencer, and my sister keeps glancing at me sideways like she's trying to gauge the reaction between me and my ex. Spencer, naturally, is completely oblivious, carrying on an enthusiastic conversation with Liam about the previous night.
"You need to get out there more," Liam is saying, spooning an enormous bite of pasta into his mouth. "Seriously, man. When's the last time you had sex?"
Spencer's silent for a few seconds, but I can't miss the way his eyes flick towards me. We never got that far, but I know I'm the last girl he's done anything with. "Too long," he says finally.
Allison jabs me with her elbow, her eyes sparkling. "He doesn't remember anything," she mutters into my ear. "How drunk was he last night?"
I clear my throat. "Pretty drunk, I guess. Wow." It take everything in me to force a tone of sincerity into my voice.
"We've got to get you back in the game," insists Liam, who luckily seems to not have heard my side chat with my sister. "I bet Celia can hook you up with someone. Someone as good as her has got to have good friends. I'll ask—"
"Liam." Celia's voice coldly cuts across the table, halting everyone's conversations. "Why do your friends need to know everything? Seriously, shut up about it."
"It's a compliment," he says, but his eyes have dimmed. He halfheartedly takes another bite of pasta and chews in silence, ignoring Spencer's whistle at Celia's shortness.
Everyone awkwardly eats for the next few minutes, and the lack of conversation only adds to how unnerved I feel. Any minute now, I'm afraid that someone's going to say something that will topple over my precariously balanced tower of lies. It's already gotten too close to comfort.
"Are you okay?" I ask Celia, just to eliminate any potential topic of discussion that involves me. "You seem off."
"Yeah, really?" She's glaring, but eventually it softens and her lips curl into a frown. "I—I'm just really stressed right now. A lot is going on."
"You haven't told me any of this," says Liam quietly.
Celia shoves her blonde curls out of her face. "Yeah, well it was supposed to be some great big secret at first," she snaps. "But now I'm falling apart at the seams and I need someone to talk to, so here goes. I'm failing in school. Not just one or two classes. Three."
This is Celia's secret, I realize. It's fallen into my lap so easily, almost like a nonchalant aside. A freebie. It's the key to unlocking my freedom, and now it's here.
At that moment Cassidy hurries up to the table with Nathan, rambling on about tennis practice, but I hold up a hand. "Let Celia finish," I say. "What do you mean, you're failing three classes?"
"I mean I'm failing. And it's Liam's fault."
"Excuse me?" demands Liam.
Rolling her eyes, Celia slides her pre-packed lunch away from her and explodes. "If you didn't beg with to sleep over nearly every damn night, I might actually have time to study. And if I could study, I might actually make good grades. But no! I can't tell you the last time I've done any homework, because I'm too busy with you. You're the single most high-maintenance person I know."
"Ouch," murmurs Spencer. I glance sideways at Liam and see that he looks floored—he's completely caught off guard. Clearly, Celia has never brought this up with him before.
"I'm sorry," he says finally, and I can see in his eyes how apologetic he is. "I didn't know. You never told me. And whenever you did say no I was always totally fine with it—I never pushed you or anything. It's just an invitation."
"Well I feel forced to accept it!"
"Look, Celia," says Spencer calmly, "that's not Liam's problem. He's offering, and it's ultimately up to you to say yes or no."
"Maybe," I say. "Unless Liam's manipulating her."
Liam turns on me, his expression fiery. "Since when did you start hating me, Erika? You'd never take her side against mine, and now you're not even hearing me out."
"This fight isn't between me and you. It's between you and your girlfriend. Maybe try listening to her, like you apparently haven't been doing."
I know I shouldn't be getting involved. But I have so much pent-up anger towards Liam right now, after everything he's done to deceive me and my friends. I know now that he's not above toying with people's emotions. And if that's what Celia says he's doing, I don't think it's too far of a stretch to believe that's the truth.
Both Celia and Liam still look furious, their gazes locked on each others'. Finally, Brynn clears her throats and says quietly, "Maybe you guys should go somewhere private to resolve this, okay?"
"Good idea," says Liam. "Apparently Celia doesn't want our own best friends hearing any personal details."
Celia responds by standing abruptly, nearly flipping over the bench she's sharing with Cassidy. "Is this what you want?" she demands. "You want a fight? I'll give you a fight. You. Me. Back of the gym. Now."
She storms off in a hair toss and a flurry of strides, disappearing in a throng of students seconds later. With a final glare towards me Liam hurries after her, straightening the hood of his sweatshirt as he jogs.
For a little while, the table sits in silence and contemplates his departure. Then I go back to eating and the rest slowly follow—Cassidy and Nathan take the seats Celia and Liam just vacated.
"What did I miss?" asks Cassidy. "Since when were they fighting?"
"They caught us all by surprise." Spencer pulls Liam's plate towards him and starts eating, but not before his gaze locks on mine. I know he's surprised I spoke up against him and Liam, and for a second I regret it. But then I break the connection and go back to my lunch. This is exactly how my blackmailer—and Liam—wants me to feel, and I need to put a stop to it.
I know that I eventually need to tell my friends what's been happening, but it's probably safer to get Liam's accomplice out of the way first. Once I tell her the final secret she'll likely leave me alone, and then I can figure out how to deal with Liam and the imminent divide in our friend group.
I look around the table, frowning. It hurts me to think that in a few days there may be a rift between us again. Already the strain from the past year is obvious: Taylor has been absent from our table for a while and now Liam and Celia are off fighting. I was delusional to think we could hold everything together in the wake of what's happened.
Maybe Taylor's right. Maybe the only way to save myself from this ticking time bomb is to get out. The problem is, I think it's too late now. I have one secret left and then my blackmailer should ditch me, and then I have no choice but to watch my group disintegrate because of what everyone's hiding. Is it my responsibility to tell my friends what I know about them? At Aquino High, I think some secrets are best kept in the dark.
We finish lunch subdued, commenting occasionally on the food or the weekend plans, before I head back upstairs alone. As I'm about to head to English an announcement comes over the loudspeaker asking that I report to Mr. Denham's office.
"Seriously," I mutter out loud to no one in particular. "As if this day could get any worse."
"Denham isn't exactly your BFF right now?" asks Cassidy.
I roll my eyes. "The opposite. I hate his guts and I'm pretty sure he hates mine."
Cassidy stifles back a laugh as I adjust my backpack and head down the stairs. The door to his office is wide open and I step inside without knocking to find him typing on his computer.
"Ms. Soto." I'm positive I see his eyes darken slightly. "How great to see you. Please, sit down."
I sit down in the nearest chair and he stands to shut the door, trapping me into the tiny box. While I focus my attention on a drooping potted plant near the window, he says, "I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but there's a senior assembly during part of lunch on Monday. Historically, it's been the valedictorian's job to give some sort of inspirational speech. A few minutes' tidbit about the impeding graduation, what that means for the class, et cetera. You get the gist?"
I nod.
"You'll have to prepare a speech by then and, of course, have it approved by me," he says. "You can reflect on the year and what's to come, but please stay away from any social agendas. That means no lecturing about any Post-It notes, all right? Email me a copy by Monday morning and I'll look over it."
"Okay." I'm not sure what I want to write about, but that's honestly at the bottom of my list of concerns right now. "Is that all?"
"Yes. Please take this speech seriously. Historically, it's been very important to the senior class."
I nod again and stand.
"Please shut the door behind you on your way out. Thank you, Ms. Soto."
A third nod and then I'm free, back in the gloriously fresh air of the hallway instead of that stuffy cube.
Back up at my locker, I find Celia sulking as she reapplies mascara where tears have evidently compromised its quality. "Cassidy said you were in Denham's office," she says. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. He wants me to make some speech to the senior class during an assembly on Monday."
"Oh." Her eyes flick up to the ceiling and I can tell she's thinking. Then she glances back at me and says firmly, "Liam and I didn't break up, if that's what you're thinking."
"Really?" Maybe those aren't tears on the tips of her eyelashes.
"What makes you think we would?"
"Nothing." I reach into my locker for my English textbook. "It just looks like you've been crying."
"Well I have been. It was an emotional conversation."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod again—I feel as if the back of my neck might become strained any second. Then, I ramble off some excuse about having to go to class and leave her standing at our lockers.
It's always been difficult to talk to Celia, but something about comforting her emotionally seems so out of the norm for me. Maybe it's the predatory look in her blue eyes or the way I still have her evil smirk firmly branded into my mind from when she hated me. Either way, I draw the line at wiping away her tears and giving her a shoulder to cry on.
I'm only a minute or two late to English class, but Spencer shoots me a concerned look as I sit down. The empty seat beside me, which is usually Celia's, is still vacant, and I wonder if she's planning on coming to class at all. What if her conversation with Liam affected her more than I thought? What if something happened, a missing puzzle piece that I wasn't expecting?
At this point, every clue I can get is crucial. And it seems like this afternoon, I missed out on something priceless.