Keeping Secrets Page 25

  It’s weird how she acts like this around me, yet plays it so straight at school. Like last night, when she was drinking, only I saw how much. And I’m willing to bet I’m the only one who knows about the smoking, the cleavage flaunting, and how she’s hoping to cheat on Sean with this loser.

  “How’s your little boyfriend? What’s his name? Sam?” asks Tom, who’s already been called an asshole, and now seems intent on proving it.

  “His name is Sean, you moron. And he’s not my boyfriend, we just hang sometimes.” She glances quickly at Jason, with his slicked-back, longish blond hair, faded Levis, motorcycle boots, dark T-shirt, and black leather jacket. And I realize he seems really familiar, though I can’t imagine why.

  “You go there too?” Tom asks, kicking his foot in my general direction, as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, gesturing politely or addressing me by name.

  “Bella Vista? Um, yeah,” I say, feeling pretty squeamish under his heavy, judgmental gaze, and wondering not for the first time, why I’m still here.

  “That school sucks. Principal Hames is a fucking loser! L-O-S-E-R,” he says, pumping his beer-gripping fist in the air, proving he can spell.

  I just stand there, not agreeing, not denying, not saying a word. Just trying to avoid the secondhand smoke while plotting my escape.

  “You leaving soon?” he asks, dragging on his cigarette and sipping his beer, going from beer to cigarette, from cigarette to beer, barely taking a break in between.

  “Bella Vista? No, I just started,” I say, looking at Teresa who’s ignoring me now, since she’s too busy flirting with Jason.

  “No, I mean now. You’re just standing there like you’ve got an appointment or something.” He sips his beer and laughs. “At least drop your bag and relax. It’s not like we’re gonna hurt you. Unless you want us to.” He narrows his eyes, giving me a long, leisurely once-over, starting at my Converse tennis shoes and working his way to the top of my head.

  “Oh, no, I just . . .” I gaze at Teresa who’s still ignoring me, then I turn back toward the way we came. I mean, not to be a prude, but I don’t like this scene. And not to be a freak, but I’m getting a really bad vibe.

  “You guys got any more beer?” Teresa asks, getting the attention back on her, which believe me, is where we both want it. “I need a little hair of the dog. I swear I have like the worst hangover, ever. Echo and I got totally wasted last night, and I need some relief.” She stands, moving toward Jason and grabbing his beer, tilting her head back and swinging her long blond hair as she guzzles.

  “Want some?” she says, turning to me, her eyes wide and shiny, her mouth wet and open.

  But I just shake my head and look away, cringing as my overloaded backpack carves a long, deep groove into the top of my shoulder.

  “Your friend’s a real blast,” Tom says, tossing his bottle toward the silver metal trash can, not bothering to get up and retrieve it when it ricochets off the side and rolls across the grass.

  Then just as I’m about to tell him to go pound sand (or something much worse), Jason flicks his lit cigarette right at him and goes, “Shut the fuck up.” Then his eyes move over to me, embarking on an unhurried cruise along my skinny, undeveloped body, until finally coming to rest upon mine. “I knew your sister,” he says, reaching for another beer, flipping the top, and nodding. Smiling as he pulls Teresa close, pressing her hard against him, and sliding his hand down her back until he reaches her butt and squeezes. His eyes never once wavering from mine.

  I watch as Teresa gazes up at him and giggles, then I turn and walk away. Feeling angry with her for dragging me here, but even angrier with myself for staying.

  “Echo, wait! Shit. You guys, I’ll be right back,” Teresa says, running to catch up with me. “Where the hell are you going?” she whispers, tugging on my jacket, as I pick up the pace, doing my best to ignore her. “Echo, jeez, don’t be mad.”

  I shake my head and walk even faster, ‘til I’m just short of running. I hate when people do that. I hate when they put you in a really bad position and then tell you how you should feel about it.

  “Seriously, slow down, please? Just give me a sec to explain,” she pleads.

  I swing around and face her, making no attempt to hide my anger.

  “Listen, I know Tom’s kind of an asshole, and I probably should’ve warned you. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “King of an asshole?” I look at her and shake my head. “Oh my God, you weren’t trying to set me up with him, were you?” My eyes go wide, having just now thought of that totally disgusting possibility.

  But she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know you’re all into Parker, and I would never try to mess with that. It’s just that I really, really, really like Jason. I mean I really like him. Don’t you think he’s cute?” she asks, moving right past me and back to her. Going from apology to confession in zero to five seconds.

  “Honestly? I think he’s creepy. Not to mention old,” I say, far too mad to even care what she thinks.

  “But that’s why I like him.” She shrugs. “He’s got a car, money, and ten times the maturity of all the guys at school put together.”

  “Teresa, he’s a drug dealer” I say, not entirely sure of this, but still convinced that it’s true. “He’s bad news. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with him.”

  But she just sucks on her cigarette and squints at me, and it’s clear she’s chosen not to listen. “You don’t even know him. You just met him like, ten minutes ago.”

  I watch as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes, even though everything she just said is wrong. I mean, even though I haven’t actually “met” him until now, that doesn’t mean I don’t know about him. But it’s not like I’m gonna explain that to her, since it’s not like she’d even listen if I tried. The only thing I want to do is just get the heck out of here. Now.

  “Listen,” I finally say. “You’re right. It probably is none of my business. But maybe you should ask yourself why some twenty-five-year-old guy is hanging out with and supplying beer and drugs to a fifteen-year-old girl. I mean, come on, Teresa.” But when I look at her, her eyes are blazing. And instead of persuading her, I’ve just made her mad.

  “Okay, first of all, he’s twenty-four, not twenty-five. And second, you only saw him give me a light and a beer. That’s all. So you better not go telling people anything other than that. In fact, you better not go telling them anything at all. You also shouldn’t be so judgmental. I mean, he was friends with your sister.”

  I look at her, standing before me, feeling so righteous even though she couldn’t be more wrong. “He knew my sister, but he was never her friend,” I say, glaring at her. “Believe me, there’s a difference.”

  But she just rolls her eyes and flicks her ash to the ground, the gray and black particles hovering briefly before clinging to her feet. “Listen,” she says, grabbing my arm just as I start to walk away. “No need to mention any of this at school, okay? I mean, it’s not like it’s anybody’s business, and I don’t want Sean to get all upset and get the wrong idea. All right?” She looks at me, her face showing fear for the first time today.

  But I just release myself from her grip and head toward home. “Don’t worry,” I say without looking back. “I won’t say a word.”

  Fourteen

  Monday at lunch Teresa’s sitting next to Sean, acting all cuddly and cute, like yesterday never happened. I line up my food, spreading it out before me, gazing from my orange to my cookie to my sandwich, wondering which to eat first.

  “I can’t believe your mom still packs a lunch for you,” Teresa says, eyeballing my pastrami on rye. “I think that is so sweet.”

  I decide to skip the healthy stuff and just start with the chocolate chip cookie, wondering if by “sweet” what she really means is “juvenile.”

  “My mom would never take the time to do that,” she continues, popping a tiny powdered donut into her mouth before washing it down with a s
lug of Diet Coke.

  I chew my cookie, trying to think of a good response. I’m the baby so she likes to take care of me? No, too babyish. I’m all she has left? Jeez, way too morbid. So finally I just say, “Yeah, well, that’s just her.” But then I remember how that was never really her, at least not until the happy pills moved in.

  “Hey, what happened yesterday? Your cell was off, and your mom said you were out,” Parker says, kissing the top of my head and squeezing in beside me.

  “Oh, yeah, I—” I start to give an excuse, but then Teresa butts in, deciding to provide one for me.

  “I needed a little help with my homework, and Echo totally saved my life. Did you know she’s like a mathematical genius?” She gives me a quick warning glance, one that nobody notices but me, then she smiles and rubs her shoulder lightly against Sean’s.

  “Wow, cute, nice, and good at math too?” Parker says, winking as he steals the rest of my cookie.

  I just gaze at Teresa and shrug. “So she says.”

  After school I meet Abby at her locker. Only this time, Jenay’s not there.

  “She had a pep club meeting,” Abby says, slamming her locker a little harder than necessary and looking at me. “I mean, pep club! Can you even believe it?”

  I shrug my shoulders and walk beside her as we make our way off campus. “So how was your weekend, you know, the whole family thing?” I ask, not wanting to talk about Jenay behind her back, yet feeling like I have to at least keep up the appearance of believing Abby’s excuse for not going to the dance.

  But she just peers at me from the corner of her eye and sighs. “Okay, I think we both know there was no family thing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away. “So go ahead, tell me everything. Was it awesome?”

  “It was okay,” I say, nervously shifting my backpack, not wanting to make her feel any worse by yammering on and on about it.

  “Just okay?” She raises her eyebrows and waits.

  “Yeah, I mean, it was fun.” I nod, wishing we could move away from this subject too.

  “Well, I gotta tell ya, Jenay makes it sound a lot more exciting than you. I mean, you did go to the same dance, right?” She laughs.

  “Even shared a limo.” I shrug.

  “Well, you should hear her version. She dropped by yesterday, and went on and on and on. By the time she left, I felt like I was the one dating Chess. Seriously, I’m officially a Chess Williams expert now. I know everything about him, and I can even prove it. Like, did you know that his favorite sandwich is chicken salad? Fascinating, right? And how about this little known fact—he actually loves basketball more than baseball! Which is so highly unusual, wouldn’t you agree?” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, I know I sound awful, but it’s like, all she can talk about! Chess this, Chess that.” She sighs. “Anyway, what’s up with you and Teresa?” she asks, looking at me all sideways again. “You guys dating?”

  “What do you mean?” I gaze at the busy street, noticing how almost all of the cars are driven by Bella Vista seniors, taking the long way home.

  “Well, Jenay said you guys practically spent more time with each other than your dates. And then yesterday we tried to call you to ask you to come over, but your phone was off. I guess that’s because you were helping her study. Or at least that’s what I overheard you say at lunch. Are you guys like, good friends now?”

  She’s staring straight ahead, acting like it’s perfectly okay with her that Jenay’s ditched us for pep club and Chess, and that I’m supposedly best friends with Teresa. But I can tell it’s really bothering her. And part of me wants to tell her about yesterday so she’ll know there’s nothing to worry about, that she and Jenay are still my best friends, and they won’t be replaced. But the other part just wants to forget it ever happened. And in the end, that’s the part that wins. “She sucks at math, so I helped her.” I shrug.

  “And Parker? Are you guys like, a couple now?” she asks, finally looking directly at me, her face a mix of worry and hope.

  “I guess,” I say, shrugging and smiling weakly.

  “It’s okay.” She nods. “Really. I’m happy for you guys,” she says, nodding again, this time more firmly.

  I walk alongside her, running my index finger over the top of a neighbor’s white picket fence. Thinking back to a time when things were so simple and easy.

  “It’s just . . . everything’s changing,” she says, staring far away.

  “Tell me.”

  My mom left a note on the fridge, telling me how she and my dad are going to some faculty dinner party, but to go ahead and warm up the leftover lasagna and make myself a salad in case I get hungry.

  I climb the stairs to my room, remove the jeans and sweater I wore to school, and replace them with my old, worn-out navy blue sweatpants, and my READING is SEXY T-shirt that I ordered off the Internet mere seconds after seeing it on Rory Gilmore. Then I plop down on my bed and think about how I should probably be starting my homework even though I’d really rather not.

  It’s not often I get the whole house to myself, so I like to make the most of it when I do. Which usually translates to me just loafing around, wasting time, and not doing much of anything, since that seems to make the time last even longer.

  It’s weird how Jenay and Abby always get freaked out and scared when they’re left home alone. Before their parents’ car has even left the driveway, they’re already on the phone, dialing everyone they know, trolling for company.

  But not me. I totally love it. And I can’t ever remember getting the slightest bit anxious or scared. Usually it’s more the exact opposite. It makes me feel happy, expansive, and free. But that’s probably because all last year my parents were like the gestapo, never allowing me more than a half hour’s peace. And it’s only in the last few months that they’ve finally begun to retreat.

  I’m just about to turn on my iPod when my cell phone rings. And when I see that it’s Parker my first instinct is to let it go straight into voice mail, even though I know that I shouldn’t.

  “Hey,” I say, wedging it between my shoulder and cheek, trying to sound all upbeat and happy, like a good girlfriend would.

  “What’re you doing?” he asks.

  “Um, nothing. Just lying here,” I say, lifting my feet in the air, checking out my chipped-up pedicure, and thinking how I should probably cover it with some socks.

  “Really?” he asks, sounding surprised.

  “Yup, really,” I tell him, adding no further comment.

  “Who’s all there?”

  “Just me.”

  “You want company?” He laughs, but I can tell that he means it.

  I roll over and gaze out the window. “You mean, now?” I ask, knowing he does, wishing he didn’t.

  “Yeah, I need a little help with my math homework and I hear you’re the go-to math wiz.”

  “Oh really?” I say, laughing like I’m someone else, hoping I’ll be mistaken for flirtatious.

  “No, I just want to come over and hang. Is that cool?”

  I stare at the oak tree, tall, dark, and barren. Then I roll back over and sigh. “Give me an hour,” I tell him, closing the phone and reaching under the bed.

  Fifteen

  June 20

  Last night my parents sat me down for a game of ultimatum. Saying if I don’t land a job by next Monday, then I’ll find myself gainfully employed at the one they found for me. Some psych doc who needs a little help with filing and appt scheduling for all the sick heads that visit his office.

  So of course I acted all offended, like it was way too beneath me to even consider. But the truth is, I’m thinking it could really work. Because, let’s face it, making appointments for the mildly insane definitely beats wearing a polyester uniform and hanging over a deep fryer, encouraging a nasty case of adolescent acne, or standing on my feet all day building bunions at some stupid, small-town boutique.

  So now I can just screw around for the whole rest of the week, pretendin
g I’m job hunting, and then Monday morning I’ll show up fresh and eager and ready to report for duty at Dr. Freud’s.

  O yeah, Carly called last night, wanted to talk about what happened. I told her there’s nothing to talk about, and wished her well. Then right before we hung up I just might have mentioned something about Stephen’s annoying bicep-gazing-during-sex habit, and how she might want to look away when he eats since it’s truly disgusting. And then I think she may have hung up on me. But, whatever.

  Marc is as elusive and hard to reach as ever—which just makes me lust him even more! But I happen to know that he knows about Paula’s party, so I’m wearing my cobalt blue halter top and white jeans in hopes that he shows.

  June 23

  Jeez—where to begin? Was it Lennon who said something about life being what happens when you’re busy making other plans? Anyway, it’s just so freaking true! I left the house around noon, dressed all conservative so everyone would think I was really going job hunting, when really I went straight to Paula’s where I changed into my bikini and we spent all day reading magazines by the pool.

  Then Kevin and Kristin stopped by (always together, together forever!) , and by the time they finally split, Paula and I were so stoned we could barely move. Maybe that’s the secret to their long-term romance, they’re just way too messed up and unmotivated to go looking for someone else???

  Anyway, before we even realized it, it was already getting dark, and all these people just started walking through the door, and we were still on our lounge chairs by the pool! And since it was Paula’s party, and since she was all oiled up and still in her bikini, everyone just assumed it was supposed to be a moonlight pool party or something. So they just started stripping off their clothes and jumping in. Including Paula who technically didn’t have to get naked since she was already in a bikini, though I’m not really sure she realized that at the time. Anyway, I just lay there, making my way through a bag of chips, while my eyes searched for Marc, trying not to be too bummed out by the fact that I didn’t see him anywhere, and trying not to care that everyone around me was all happy and hooked up, well, everyone but me.