Dirty Little Secrets (2 page)

Judging from the silence in the classroom, maybe a poem from third grade wasn't the best choice. Mr. Manillo cleared his throat. “That was, ah, interesting,” he said. “And that piece was by . . .”

“Shel Silverstein,” I said quickly. “
A Light in the Attic
.”

The whole class started laughing. And I knew right away they weren't laughing
with
me. I could hear other kids talking behind me. I glanced toward the open door, wishing the bell would ring so I could run out and be anonymous in the crowd. Instead, I stayed glued to my seat, staring straight ahead, my head pounding with embarrassment.

Mr. Manillo held up his hand. “People, please.” He looked right through me. “This semester, we are studying the great masters of the seventeenth century and comparing the different forms of poetry. I'm afraid Mr. Silverstein is not on the syllabus.”

The laughing started to subside as he called on Josh. “Mr. Lee, do you have a better example of a popular poetry form?”

I was glad Josh was sitting in front of me so that I couldn't see the look of disgust that was probably on his face. At least he hadn't turned around to laugh directly at me. He cleared his throat and began to recite his poem in a clear, deep voice.

My pulse was pounding in my ears so loudly that at first I didn't listen, but then I began to hear people giggling all around the room and I started to pay attention. By the time he was done with “Jimmy Jet and His TV Set,” I had the smallest but deepest grin on my face.

Mr. Manillo just stood in the front of the class with his arms crossed over his chest. “Is that meant to be amusing?”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Manillo, but Shel Silverstein rocks.”

I didn't know why he'd done it, but he managed to get everyone to laugh
with
him and come off even cooler. He probably just felt bad for the new girl who didn't have a clue. If it were a movie, we'd have gotten together after class and discussed how much we had in common besides Shel Silverstein, and been bonded together from that very moment. Since this was only my real life, I just murmured “thanks” as I raced out of the room to change classes at the end of the period.

Josh was not just smart and gorgeous and apparently a Shel Silverstein fan, but he played guitar in a band called The Missing Peace and even wrote some of their songs. He'd also been one-half of the Cara-and-Josh super-couple since freshman year. At least until she got drunk and made out with someone else at that Halloween party a few months ago.

So now Josh was single and smiling at me, and I was standing right in front of him like a complete idiot with absolutely nothing to say. We stood in an uncomfortable silence, staring at the snack bar menu board, as Kaylie inched imperceptibly closer to Steve so she could put her hand on his arm for emphasis as she spoke. She made it look so easy.

“Maybe we should leave them alone,” Josh joked, nodding at Steve and Kaylie, whose heads were now bent deep in conversation.

“Yeah,” I said, mentally beating myself up for such a lame answer. I turned phrases over in my head, trying to come up with something casual and clever.
So what's your favorite Shel
Silverstein poem these days?
Right. He'd never remember something that happened so long ago.
Where's the band playing next?
Too groupie slut
. Did you know our children would be gorgeous
?

I felt a hard tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me?” a girl's voice demanded.

I turned to see Justine Hildebrandt, Cara's best friend, standing with her hands on her hips. “The end of the line is back there, in case you didn't know.”

“Oh, we weren't—,” I started to say, but Justine cut me off, indignation flashing in her eyes. She glanced at Josh with a lot more anger than the situation called for, but continued to talk to me. All of a sudden, I had a pretty good idea what her secret was.

“Right. We saw you two cut in front of us,” she said. “Don't think we didn't.” A group of JV cheerleaders stood with her, nodding their heads in unison. At least Cara Lassen and her perfect highlights were nowhere in sight.

“No, really,” I managed. “Kaylie just wanted to say hi.” I reached out to grab Kaylie's arm, but she was so blissed out talking to Steve she didn't even notice we were about to be ambushed by the entire Gompers High School cheerleading squad.

“Ease up, Justine,” Josh said to her. “I've been saving Lucy's place.” He smiled at me. “What took you so long?”

“Um,” I squeaked, startled by the fact that he'd actually said my name out loud.

Josh reached over and put his arm around my shoulders, and it was everything I could do not to gasp. Nobody had touched me for such a long time that just a little bit of contact made my knees wobbly. I tried to savor the weight of his arm on the back of my neck, the faint, warm, clean smell making me want to turn and bury my face in his collar. My heart was beating so fast I was sure he would notice the jolt of energy that ran up my spine. I should have stopped time then—framed this one perfect moment so I could go back and look at it again and again. His shiny brown hair flopped in his eyes as he gave me a barely perceptible wink.

Justine leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You're here with
her
?” I didn't blame her for not believing him.
I
could hardly believe I was standing in front of a bunch of cheerleaders with Josh Lee's arm casually draped around my shoulders.

Josh pulled me closer to him, and I could feel the heat from his body and the muscles in his arm as he flexed. “Of course,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I knew it was all a joke—he was only doing it so Justine would turn around and tell Cara. Josh probably wanted to get back together with her, and sparking some jealousy was always a good choice. Still, if I was being used, I can't say I minded all that much.

“What can I get you?” the old guy behind the counter asked as we reached the front of the line. Josh dropped his arm and my shoulders felt neglected and cold immediately.

“One jumbo popcorn,” he said, turning his back on Justine and the other girls. “You don't mind sharing, do you?” he asked, bumping my arm. I smiled and shook my head, prepared to go along with the joke as long as he wanted. Not only did I get to pretend to be with Josh, but I got to piss off Justine Hildebrandt, and that was never a bad thing. As we walked toward the theater, I couldn't help but glance back at Justine and feel a secret thrill at the scowl on her face as Josh pretended to be interested in walking with me.

I didn't even really like popcorn, but I ate it through the whole movie because our fingers brushed as we reached into the bucket at the same time. I was glad the movie was blaring so I didn't have to think of anything interesting to say and could just pretend we were on an actual date instead of playing some game that would end as soon as the lights came on.

Steve and Kaylie weren't exactly holding hands as they walked out of the theater, but their shoulders kept brushing as they bumped into each other. Cozy, for sure. I was walking behind them as slowly as I could to make the moment last as long as possible. Pretty soon, we'd reach the big glass front doors, and that's where it would stop. Without Justine around, Josh wouldn't have to pretend anymore, and I'd be just me, stuck watching him safely from a distance once again. We'd almost crossed the lobby in complete silence when Josh stopped and turned to me. “Listen, I play guitar in a band with a bunch of other guys. We're not too bad—mostly covers, but I write some songs too.”

He said this like I knew nothing about him. Like I didn't lie in bed in the dark some nights and picture him saying something just like that. I held my breath, hardly believing it was really happening, partly hoping it wasn't. It was the perfect guy saying the perfect thing at the perfectly wrong time. “Anyway,” he continued, “we're playing at a party tomorrow night down on Marina. If you're not doing anything, you want to come by?”

Maybe it was the bright lights of the lobby after being in the dark theater, but the whole place seemed to start throbbing. “That would be cool,” I managed. I had to look down at the ground in order to actually say what had to come next. “But I, uh, don't think I can make it.” Every fiber of my being was screaming “yes,” but I knew I couldn't go. Pretending I was on a date with Josh Lee was one thing. Meeting him somewhere on purpose was another. Getting close to someone like him would just be way too risky.

He actually looked a little bummed, which made my heart skip. Either he was a better actor than I thought or this wasn't completely a joke. “Got a date with someone else?” he asked, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“Ha! No,” I said a little too quickly. “I mean, no. But . . .” God, I'd wished for this moment to happen since I first laid eyes on him, and now that he was asking me out, I was racking my brain for a good reason why I couldn't go.

He must have seen my indecision. “We play pretty early if you have to be home.” He reached out with his pinky and curled it around mine, playful but secure. I stared at the spot where we touched, hardly able to believe any of this was real.

I looked into those big brown eyes, and against everything I knew I should do, I heard myself say, “Okay. I . . . I think I can make it.” It was going to be fine, I reasoned. Dating Josh Lee for real would be impossible. Hanging out one single night might be doable.

Josh grinned and squeezed my hand for the briefest second. “I can pick you up if you want.”

And there it was already. My whole body stiffened at the thought. I had to keep him away from the house no matter what. “Oh, no. That's okay.” I tried to sound as casual as possible. “I'll come with Kaylie. I'll probably stay over at her house, anyway.” So much for no more sleepovers. I was sure Steve would be at the party too, which meant she'd be into it.

“Easier to tell your mom you're at Kaylie's than you're out at a party?”

I swallowed hard. “Something like that. She's, um, really religious and doesn't let me go out much.”

Josh nodded like he understood. “Must be rough.”

“Yeah. Sometimes it is.” I nodded slowly and looked down at the floor so I couldn't see his face.

That was the trouble with secrets—the lies you had to tell to keep them hidden almost made you feel worse than telling the truth.

Almost.

chapter 2

9:00 a.m.

After spending all night at Kaylie's going over every detail, I stood at the bottom of our cracked cement walkway the next morning, the ache in my stomach starting the minute I saw Mom's car in the driveway. She must have switched schedules with someone at work again. Just when I'd counted on her to be gone.

I really wanted to be alone to think about the party tonight—get it sorted in my head so I wouldn't make any big mistakes, but if Mom was home, the hassling would start the minute I hit the front door. Kaylie was excited about the whole Steve and Josh double-dating angle and was going to spend the day figuring out what we were going to wear. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. Josh had asked me to come to a party. Me. To a party. Where his band was playing. Unbelievable.

Kaylie's mom didn't have to be to work until late, so she'd given me a ride home on the way. Like always, I waited until she had driven around the corner and was safely out of sight before I headed for the front door. Our little gray and white house really didn't look that bad from out here. If you were paying attention, you could spot the black mold gathering along the edges of the living room windows and the way the curtains were pressed against the glass by stacks of boxes. Those were just small hints about what was really behind the shingled walls, but nobody on the outside ever noticed.

I kicked at the tufts of grass as I slowly made my way toward the porch. Even though Mom had to park the car in the driveway because of all the junk that filled the garage, from out here the house looked pretty normal.

All of our secrets started at the front door.

The TV was on too loud, as always, mercifully covering any noise I made as I came in. Standing on my tiptoes, I peeked into the living room over the tops of the newspaper piles and bags of junk that flooded every inch of open space in the house. Mom wasn't in her usual spot in the vomit-green recliner, and the lady on television was trying to sell genuine synthetic sapphires to nobody. I let myself relax a little—maybe I could make it to the safety of my room without another confrontation.

Hurrying past the kitchen and down the hall, I glanced around the narrow pathways we'd carved in the piles of newspapers and garbage over the years. It had gotten easier to get around since I'd grown tall enough to see over the top of a lot of it. Mom was only about five-foot six and she didn't stack things higher than she could reach. When I was smaller, I used to pretend I was walking at the bottom of the Grand Canyon with the cliffs rising over my head, only instead of a steel blue sky with puffy white clouds, there was a cracked plaster ceiling and a burned-out lightbulb.

At the bend in the hallway, a tall pile of
National Geographic
s had fallen over and blocked the narrow pathway that led to her room.
That's really going to make her mad,
I thought as I turned and walked toward my room. Mom didn't go into her room much anymore, but I wondered why she hadn't straightened up the pile right away. Even with all this stuff crammed into the house, having things out of place made her even crazier. Especially if she thought I'd had something to do with it.

That's what last night's argument had been about. As usual.

I'd been throwing clothes in my backpack to go to Kaylie's when I heard her shouting from the living room, “Lucy!”

I pretended not to hear her until she called for a third time, then I pushed my door open and yelled down the hall, “What?”