Everyone Keeps Secrets (Romantic Suspense Saga: Part 1), Page 2

Waiting with my girlfriends for school to start, I looked up at the blue sky, closed my eyes, and inhaled a long, deep breath. The crisp September wind, that marked the change from summer to fall, made me feel like something unusual was in the air.

  It was the first day of classes and my girlfriends and I had arrived early. My friends, wasting time, had made up their own kind of spectator sport. As the students arrived, they’d scrutinize all the new school clothes with the same enthusiasm as a red-carpet fashion reporter. I cringed with empathy as I watched each awkward teen parade by.

  Tabitha shook her head and her blonde hair, tightly cinched in a ponytail, whipped back and forth. “I can’t believe it.”

  Melanie pushed up her oversized glasses. “What can’t you believe, Tabby?”

  “Look at Tiffany Martin. She’s wearing bright orange!”

  “Unbelievable.” Justine tossed her hand over her curly auburn hair.

  “No way,” Ally chimed in.

  “Yeah, way. Look.” Tabitha pointed. “It’s that same orange color that inmates wear in prison.”

  I glanced up at our penitentiary of a high school and added, “Well at least convict-couture matches the look of our school.”

  The girls laughed.

  Stony Creek High didn’t look like a typical school. Built during the sixties, it was a gloomy, gray structure with barely any windows. Deep ridges were grooved into the thick concrete walls. It made Alcatraz look homey. From my Advanced Placement U.S. History class, I knew the sixties were a tumultuous period. The Cold War was at its height, and from the boxy, stark exterior of the buildings, the architecture made you think that a nuke was about to be dropped from above; the school looked more like a bomb shelter than a place of learning. In sharp contrast, the campus was picturesque. Set into the side of the steep hill, it overlooked the beautiful, bluish-green waters of Beaver Lake. Along the shore, tall, majestic pines lined the water's edge.

  Our hangout spot was on the top terrace, where we could see everyone coming and going. The boys preferred the bottom level, which kept them—and their usual hijinks—out of view from the school’s occasional window.

  Tabitha stepped over and tilted her head. “What’s up with you today? Where’s our sweet Simplicity?”

  “Ugh. She’s not here today.” I twisted the end of my favorite Hollister pink and white, button-down shirt under my finger. “I think my friend is looming on the horizon.”

  “Oh. . . .” She put her hands up and stepped back.

  I chuckled. Being best friends, she knew how drastically my mood swung from loveable, sweet Simplicity to raging grizzly bear each month. “PMS again?” she whispered, looking very concerned.

  “Yeah. Do you have any Midol? I’m desperate for some relief.”

  “Let me see.” Tabitha opened up her suitcase-sized purse. She kept it well stocked with every possible item you could think of—it was like a Super Walmart. The darn thing weighed so much I was surprised her shoulder wasn’t crooked.

  With her head buried inside the bag, Tabitha shifted huge piles of junk around. “It’s the first day of school and I have nothing in here.”

  I chuckled at her concept of nothing. “That’s fine. I appreciate you looking.”

  “Simplicity?” Melanie called out as she walked over to us.

  I quickly checked my phone again. “Yup.”

  She took me by the elbow. “I want to talk to you before school starts.”

  Oh, no. Judging by her serious expression, I knew something bad was coming. “…Yes.”

  She pushed a piece of her dark-brown hair behind her ear and then huddled in close. “I had one of my dreams again last night.”

  I bit my tongue. Every so often, Melanie would have a premonition that something horrible was going to happen to Tabitha or me. Tabby and I tried not to encourage her, since we knew she fretted about everything. “What happened this time?”

  “Remember when I had a dream you were mangled in a car wreck?”

  “Yup, I remember.” I did get into a car accident that day—a minor fender bender—but when I began to tell her, she looked so ecstatic she had actually been right I didn’t have the heart to say that only the bumper had been scratched.

  “And do you remember when I predicted you’d break your arm and then—”

  “I fell out of the tree.” I finished her sentence for her.

  “This time…It’s worse.”

  “Uh-huh.” I looked around.

  “Well, in this dream…you fell into a black hole.”

  My head whipped up. “A what?” I bit my lip holding back a laugh.

  She shrugged. “That’s the best I can describe the image. It was so dark.”

  “Oh.” I struggled not to make a face. “Okay.”

  Her pale blue eyes squinted. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “No, I believe you had a dream.”

  “But you don’t think it was a premonition?”

  “Well…” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I didn’t want to lie, either. “No,” I said firmly.

  Her cute chubby cheeks wilted.

  I felt bad. “Listen Melanie. It’s me. I just don’t believe in all that hocus-pocus type stuff. That’s all.”

  “Uh. Huh.”

  “You know how pragmatic I am—everything by the book.” I put myself down hoping it would cheer her up.

  Her eyes lifted. “All right,” quickly she added, “but just be extra careful today. Okay?”

  I smiled. “I will.”

  “Good.” She nodded with purpose like her mission had been accomplished.

  “Mel?” Tabitha called out. “Do you know who is teaching Honor’s English this year?”

  “I think it’s Mr. Case.” Melanie distracted, headed back to the group.

  I walked off and checked my cell phone again. I knew my dad planned to text me this morning and I wanted to respond before the teachers made me shut-off my phone.

  My dad was the best. “You look just like your beautiful mother but with my green eyes,” he said to me that morning before I left for school. To everyone else in town my dad was the “Big, Bad Intimidator” but to me, he was a giant teddy bear. We had a very close relationship—mostly because we were so alike—but also because of what had happened to our family.

  Seeing no text yet, I raised my head and looked over the crowd of students that was beginning to form. That’s when I caught Brian Hamilton giving me the once-over. His eyes lingered a tad too long on certain parts of my body. I gave Brian a polite smile, followed by a don’t-even-think-about-asking-me-out expression. Over the summer, I had grown in height but also in other various ways. Throughout my sophomore year, my body was all gangly looking, but over the last few months, my hormones had kicked into overdrive, and curves had started popping out all over the place. Tabitha, who noticed Brian’s ogling, glanced back at me. “Is it me or did all the boys in our class get a booster shot of hormones this summer?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  Back at South Middle School, I thought all boys were oblivious to us girls, but then I read in a teen magazine that boys take two years longer to develop. However, the way most of them had been eyeballing us this morning, I was starting to think they were catching up to us—fast.

  Tabitha had the most “experience” of our “very inexperienced” group. She’d been the first one of us to have an official boyfriend, Timmy. They’d gone to the movies and other aboveboard activities that our ultra-conservative parents deemed appropriate for young ladies our age—sweet sixteen. Tabitha asked me to tag along with her a few times with one after another of Timmy’s guy friends—kinda’ double dating. I did it mostly for Tabitha’s sake. The boys wanted to go out with me alone, but I was never interested. They were nice. Attractive in one way or another, but none of them really turned my head.

  Tabitha, who was one of my two best friends, had shoulder-length blonde hair with that natural curl most girls would kill for. He
r hazel eyes, ridiculously skinny “size one” figure, along with a cute smile, made her popular with all the boys.

  Melanie, my other best friend, was Tabitha’s opposite. She had pale, almost translucent-blue eyes. I loved her hairstyle; a cute bob cut. Her parents kept pushing her to wear contacts, but she preferred her glasses.

  I thought my looks fell somewhere in the middle—pretty, but no knockout. I’d been trying to grow out my hair for years, but to no avail.

  Tabby, Mel, and I had been friends since we were girls, but over the years, our group expanded. Spitfire-red-head Justine and shy little Ally, had known each other for years. When we met the first day of high school, we all instantly bonded.

  Justine, who was the tallest of our group, continued to scan the crowd. Melanie asked, “Do you see anyone new?”

  “A few geeky freshman—Oh wait. There is one older boy.” Her eyes grew wide. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  Melanie raised her head, her interest clearly piqued by the arrival of a new boy our age in a school this small in size. “Where is he?”

  Justine pointed a few terraces down. “Right there. He’s sitting on the overhang above the maintenance loading dock.”

  Little Ally hopped up and down trying to catch a peek. “I can’t see him.”

  “He’s on top of the wall where Gabe and all the other jocks sit.” Justine scrutinized him. “And man, does he have a hot bod.”

  “Is he a jock?” Tabitha craned her neck.

  “No, I don’t think so. He’s dressed from head to toe in black. He’s giving off sort of a bad-boy vibe.”

  The unusual description immediately drew the rest of the girls’ attention. All of them stood on their tippy-toes trying to check out the new student.

  “Where is he?”

  “That’s him right there, sitting near those clueless freshmen.”

  Tabitha scanned the crowd of kids. “I wonder where Gabe and his crew are. You know how territorial boys can be. They aren’t going to like anyone sitting in their prime spot.”

  Melanie leaned over the railing. “I wish he would look up so we could see his face. He’s got it buried in his phone.”

  I scrolled through my phone, and rolled my eyes. However curious I was about a new student, I stubbornly refused to look in his direction just because he might be attractive.

  Ignoring the distraction, I inhaled a deep breath of the refreshing, fall air. Normally I would’ve been a ball of enthusiasm as I waited for school to start. Still in that fresh moment of anticipation when I believed my classes would be lively and filled with excitement—right before crushing, bitter reality set in. Instead of being energized though, I was groggy. I’d rushed out the door that morning and forgotten to take something to curb the PMS that always arrived a few days before my friend. How a girl’s period ever earned the title your friend, I’ll never know. There was nothing friendly about it at all. When the school doors opened, my first order of business was to head directly to the nurse’s office and grab a few Midol—provided I didn’t kill somebody beforehand.

  My phone vibrated in my hand. Surprised, I looked down at the caller ID. Seeing the name, I smiled and picked up. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, Pumpkin.”

  I bit my lower lip. My dad had given me that nickname when I was five after I won a pumpkin-pie-eating contest. He clung to those days, back when my mom was still around.

  “Are you in class yet?”

  “No. Melanie’s mom dropped us off super early.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess she had some important presentation.” I glanced at Melanie feeling sorry for her. I knew her mother viewed parenting as a chore that had to be done—like taking out the garbage. “We’re here, just hanging out waiting for them to unlock the doors.”

  “How’re the girls?” He spoke in his deep serious dad-tone. “Are you staying out of trouble?”

  I noticed Tabitha was watching me, so I raised my voice so she could hear. “Yeah, were staying out of trouble.” I winked. She grinned back. I covered my ear and walked away from the group’s noise. “So what’s up, Dad? Everything good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought you were just gonna text?”

  “I was . . .”

  I stopped cold. My take-no-crap-dad hesitating this long meant he was upset about something. “You okay, dad?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but . . . Cyndi called me. She said you got in a fight with her this morning.”

  Ugh. A few choice words rolled through my head. I tried very hard not to, but I loathed my stepmother. I knew the secret behind why my dad had married her and the reason he continued to put up with her self-centered behavior now, but the way she treated everyone—especially my little sister—made me mad.

  I snapped, “I wasn’t fighting.”

  He politely cleared his throat.

  I took a deep breath, slowed down, and started again. “I’m sorry I snapped. When Kylie and I were getting ready for school, Cyndi mentioned Mom’s car in the garage. She said it was taking up space, and she wanted to have it towed away to make room for hers. All I said was that you would never do that.”

  My wording was more along the lines of “My dad would never let you do that,” which of course set her off.

  “She mentioned it.” He exhaled. “I suppose I see her point. The car’s been sitting there for so long it probably doesn’t work. It’s been ten years.”

  My stomach clenched.

  “I haven’t even turned the engine over since—”

  “Dad.” I cut him off. I didn’t want to remember those painful memories. “I think they’re about to let us in.”

  “All right. I have to work nights this week, but we’ll talk about this later.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stay safe, Simplicity, and have a great day.”

  “You too, Dad.” I sounded bummed out.

  “Simplicity?” His voice softened. “You know how much I love you.”

  “I know.” I imagined my dad with broad shoulders and strong arms as he gave me a gentle bear hug. “I love you too, Dad.”

  “We’ll work this out.”

  “Okay. We’ll work it out.”

  “I’ll see you later tonight?”

  “Yeah, see ya.”

  I stared at those gray concrete walls and wondered how different things might have been.

  Would my dad have been happy, the way we were before my mom died?

  An unusually icy breeze whipped around me. I shivered feeling the odd tingle. The same eerie sensation I used to have when I was a kid. After my mom’s death, I would wake up in a cold sweat terrified I wasn’t going to make it through the day. As I got older I tossed the fear off as childish, but still that unsettled feeling in my gut had me spooked. It felt like a warning.

  The girl’s happy chatter snapped me back.

  “What did they say?” Tabitha asked Ally.

  Justine shook her head. “We’re juniors now. Why do we have to sit through another first-day-of-school orientation?”

  “It’s not just for freshman; even seniors have to go,” Ally said.

  “I think they treat it like a pep rally.” Melanie fluttered her hand. “You know to get everybody to have school spirit and stuff.”

  “School spirit?” Tabitha scoffed. “What, are we all supposed to be cheerleaders now?” She turned to me. “Simplicity, what Advanced Placement classes are you taking this year?”

  Before I had time to answer, Justine said, “Oh no!”

  I looked at her. “What?” I asked.

  “Here comes Gabe and his crew.”

  Tabitha snapped her gum. “Uh oh.”

  Little Ally stretched out trying to see over the crowd. “The new kids better get out of there.”

  There were some hard and fast rules about the social order of things at high school, one of which was pecking order. Gabe and his group were sharks; everyone else was some level of fish. A new kid, alone with no friends,
would be considered plankton.

  Justine shook her head. “The new kids aren’t moving.”

  We all looked at each other. Like the screech of a car’s brake right before a traffic accident, we knew what was coming. We grabbed our bags and ran down to watch the “male soap opera” about to unfold.