Keeping Her Secret (7 page)

Courtney jerked her head up to glare at Riya, who met her gaze with an unwavering stare. Confidence, defiance. This was new. Courtney kind of liked it.

As Riya changed and brushed her hair, Courtney took extra time to make sure she removed every trace of ketchup from the stall walls. Not that she actually cared about how clean it was, but it gave her something to do.

“Ready?” Riya’s voice came from much closer than expected.

Courtney craned her neck to stare up at Riya, who stood just outside the stall door. She’d wound her long, dark hair into a fresh, tight French braid and wore another pair of those curve-hugging short shorts with an oversized DHS Volleyball shirt that said,
It’s in your heart, or it’s IN YOUR FACE!

Courtney hopped to her feet and brushed past Riya, flinging dirty paper towels into the trash on her way out the door. Outside, Riya’s feet scuffled on the steps as her shorter legs attempted to catch up with Courtney.

Riya squeaked.

Courtney spun and everything seemed to slow down. Riya’s arms pinwheeled as she tried to catch herself with small, stumbling steps. Courtney lunged forward and reached out her arms, catching Riya’s shoulders with both hands. Riya’s momentum carried her forward two more steps, and she halted inches from Courtney.

Riya’s lips parted as she heaved deep, panicked breaths. The rhythmic rushes of air grazed Courtney’s face, smelling of sweet mint. Riya raised her big brown eyes to meet Courtney’s. Her cheeks flushed garnet against her bronze skin.

“Thank you,” Riya said, her voice rasping deep in her throat.

Courtney’s heart pounded painfully against her ribs, and she told herself it was just adrenaline, not the knowledge that her lips hovered a twitch away from Riya’s. The way her breath seemed to be trapped in her throat had nothing to do with the way Riya’s eyes flashed to Courtney’s lips every other second.

Courtney’s hands grew clammy against Riya’s hot shoulders, which was why she realized she still held them. Courtney yanked her hands back and, much to her surprise, loosed a bark of half-panicked laughter.

Riya answered with a small laugh. Courtney blinked hard, clearing her thoughts.

“How in the world do you play elite volleyball when you can’t walk down stairs without tripping?” Courtney asked.

Riya’s blush deepened. “I’ve walked down those stairs at least four times without tripping.”

“Four?” Courtney laughed as she resumed walking toward the volleyball court. “Does that mean you’ve tripped the other twenty times?”

“Um,” was all Riya said. She stared at her feet.

“Do you fall on the court?” asked Riya.

Riya giggled. “Everyone falls in volleyball. We roll and jump to our feet. Plus, we’re wearing kneepads so it doesn’t really hurt. Not to mention, I’m focused when I’m on the court. Walking around, I…I get distracted.”

Courtney looked at Riya, wondering what possibly could have distracted her that morning, but she continued staring at her feet. Riya drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it.

In the silence that followed, Courtney scanned the mountains surrounding them. It was a clear, crisp morning, and the air felt warmer than the last couple of days. Birds of prey soared high before diving down to disappear in the treetops.

Riya broke the silence. “Where do you want to go? For college, I mean. Do you have an idea?”

Courtney sighed. “My parents want me to go to Harvard or Yale, like they did.”

Riya turned her head and examined Courtney’s face. “You don’t sound too excited for what sounds like some incredible opportunities.”

Courtney shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter.”

Riya’s lips twisted as she thought. “Yesterday you told me that I can do whatever I want to do. Maybe you should take some of your own advice?”

Courtney shook her head. “It’s different for me.”

“Well, yeah.” Riya scoffed. “You’re Courtney Chastain. You have
everything
a girl could want.”

“That’s not true,” Courtney said. Riya just didn’t realize the pressures and expectations set on “Courtney Chastain.”

“Really?” Riya was starting to sound angry. “You have money. You can actually carry on a conversation with anyone without stuttering or tripping over your own feet. You’re graceful and beautiful with perfect hair and flawless skin. Plus, you’re crazy smart, even though you don’t want anyone to know it.”

Courtney’s heart fluttered when Riya said “beautiful,” but it broke out into a salsa rhythm when she called her “smart.”

Riya continued, unaware of Courtney’s reaction to her words. Her tone grew harsher. “So what, exactly, do you
not
have?”

Courtney knew the answer right away. “Freedom,” she said.

Riya pursed her lips. “You’re as free as you decide to be.”

Riya didn’t understand. Courtney had so much to lose and she wasn’t strong, not like Riya was.

Riya stopped walking, and Courtney realized they’d reached the volleyball court. The two stood still for several seconds.

“Anyway, thanks for saving me from smashing my face in,” Riya said.

Courtney shrugged. “Anytime.”

Riya laughed. “I really don’t fall
that
often.”

…

Courtney was squeezing every extra minute out of her practice time when someone strolled through the door of the art hut. She jumped back and shrieked. Colt stood just inside the doorway.

His eyes went wide. “Jumpy?”

Courtney half-heartedly punched his shoulder. “You shouldn’t scare a girl like that.”

He searched her face. “You don’t normally scare so easily.”

“Riya got me this morning. I guess I’m still a little on edge.”

“Got you?” He stepped aside so she could enter the hut.

Courtney raised her foot onto a table and leaned forward into a hamstring stretch. “We’re in a prank war. It’s a long story.”

“Long story,” Colt echoed, sounding skeptical. “We’ve been at camp for a couple of days.”

Courtney ignored the implications in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” His head jerked up. He smiled. “I need to tell you something.”

“Riya’s parents called, and she has to go home right away?” Courtney said, switching legs.

Colt stopped. “What? No. What?” He frowned.

“Wishful thinking.”

“I like having her here. We’re catching up. Our friends like her. And you said everything was okay. Nothing to figure out, remember?”

She met her brother’s eyes. “Wishful thinking?”

“Oh, Court,” he crooned.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t even talk to her during the day.” For some reason, she didn’t want to mention their early morning talks. They felt too private, isolated from everything else.

Colt looked like he might hug her, so she dropped her leg and bent at the waist, touching the floor with her fingertips. She could hold everything in as long as no one gave her any sympathy. She had this obnoxious habit: when she teetered on the edge of tears, the tiniest act of compassion opened the floodgates.

“Everyone knows that ‘fine’ is universal girl-code for definitely not okay,” Colt said. “And how can you not talk to her when you’re in the same cabin?”

“More than that. We share a bunk bed,” Courtney muttered.

“You share a bed?” He raised his voice, getting all brother-protective on her. “Do you want me to talk to Fozzie Bear? I’m sure he’d switch your cabin.”

She jolted to her full height. “Absolutely not. I can handle it.” She couldn’t have anyone thinking otherwise, especially Riya. She couldn’t give Riya any reason to think there was something
to
handle.

He held up his hands as if he faced a wild bear. “Okay, okay.”

Satisfied, Courtney lowered into a lunge, stretching her calf.

“But you should talk to her,” Colt said.

The boy would just not let it go.

“You wanted to tell me something?” she reminded him, changing the subject yet again.

Colt remained quiet. Courtney raised her arms over her head, then lowered her left, staring down the length of her arm at him.

His expression drew in on itself. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Spill it.” It was too early to tread through his mitigation. They both needed to get to breakfast.

“I think I like Dee,” he said.

Courtney’s forehead creased as she tried to figure out who Dee was. “Oh, Delores?”

Colt nodded.

“Like,
like
. In that way?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

“That’s it?” He sounded relieved.

“She doesn’t seem like your type, but if that works for you. Why do you think I’d be upset?”

“Isn’t she basically your sworn enemy?”

Courtney laughed. “What, because of the pranks from the last two summers? It’s not that big of a deal.”

Colt twisted his lips and cocked his head. “Okay.”

His confusion didn’t surprise her. She’d made a big deal out of getting pranked in the past, throwing a fit, demanding the counselors do something about it—though never giving them the information they’d need to do so.

“But?” Colt asked.

But. Colt had never pursued anyone at summer camp. That was Courtney’s deal. Every other summer, she’d kissed at least three boys by now. What held her back this year? She knew only one thing was different, but there was no way Riya’s presence should or would have such an impact on Courtney’s love life. Courtney had done a great job of totally ignoring her, after all.

“Good thing it’s just summer camp,” she said instead. “Because Mom and Dad would hate her.”

Colt shrugged. “They don’t get a vote.”

“How can you be so blasé about it?” Her shoulders tensed just thinking about her parents’ reactions. Colt was a great son, adored by their parents. Courtney couldn’t figure out how he got away with so casually defying them.

“Why do you put so much stock into what they think? It’s your life.”

It didn’t feel like it, hadn’t in years. The only thing she had of her own was ballet. And soon, that would be gone, too.

Weird that Colt and Riya had told her basically the same thing that morning. She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Did you talk to Riya today?”

Colt shook his head, brow twitched in confusion. “No, but
you
should.” He started toward the door, then stopped, turning to face his sister. “Don’t be so scared of her.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’m not scared.” But the way her heart sped up at the mere prospect exposed her lie, at least to herself.

His half smile provoked her. “Prove it.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to her, if I have a chance.”

“Today,” he insisted. “Talk to her today.”

Chapter Eight

At lunch, her friends kept bursting out in laughter at Riya’s early morning prank. “Courtney,” they kept saying. “Courtney. Courtney. Courtney.” R
iya didn’t want to hear her name any more. With every repetition, she saw Courtney leaning into Derek, Courtney sitting on Derek’s lap in between sessions, disappearing with Derek during quiet time. She shouldn’t care. She told herself the pangs of jealousy were leftover feelings from four years ago. Remnants of what she’d felt when she still didn’t quite understand who she was.

“What movie are they playing tonight?” Riya asked.

Tiffany and Stefanie took over the conversation, granting Riya relief from the reprise.

“Definitely a horror,” Tiffany said.

“No way,” Stefanie said. “Probably a superhero movie.”

Everyone launched into a discussion about their favorite movies. Riya was surprised to learn that Tiffany—quiet, serious Tiffany—was a sucker for cheesy rom-coms. Stefanie gagged as her twin listed off her favorites and countered with her favorite action flicks. Elise shyly admitted to an undying love of science fiction and fantasy.

“I’m a huge nerd!” she declared. Riya liked the way she said it, mostly casual with a hint of pride.

“Everyone’s going to volleyball, right?” Dee asked.

For the first time that day, Riya felt true excitement. The twins were great players, and Riya couldn’t wait to volley with them again. She just had to suffer through one of the artsy sessions before she could get back on the court. Riya’d never thought about it before, but now that she was required to do some kind of craft or art every day, she was definitely not even remotely right-brained. Every after-lunch session was dedicated to arts, probably to keep any of the campers from losing their lunch.

She’d settled on leather stamping, mainly because she liked Nancy more than the counselors teaching the other sessions.

As early as Nancy would let her leave the class, she headed straight for the court to get some extra practice in during the transition time, before anyone else showed. Dee volunteered to join her, claiming she was too nervous to do anything else. They’d said hello in passing a couple times that morning, but Colt promised her he’d come to the volleyball session.

They served the same ball back and forth for a couple minutes, then passed the ball over the net for a while longer. Dee had solid basic skills but lacked the control and instinct that came with playing regularly. She, unlike Riya, was a natural athlete. Bodily kinesthetic intelligence was the term. Riya had none of it.

When they both glistened with sweat, they sat on the side of the court, feet stretched out between them, rolling the ball back and forth.

After a minute of companionable silence, Dee spat out a question. “So what’s the deal with you and Courtney Chastain?”

Riya raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and shrugged. She raised her hands, then dropped them.

“You’re squirming,” Dee pointed out, smirking. “Don’t pretend like there’s nothing. The vibe between you two is weird. You leave early together every morning.”

Riya admired Dee’s directness. Not at the exact moment, precisely, but she did admire it in general. So she disclosed everything. It felt good to get the whole story out in the open. Someone to talk things through when endless obsessive thought got her nowhere would be a welcome change.

“You want to know what I think?” Dee asked.

Riya squinted at her. “Maybe?”

Dee snickered before growing serious. “She likes you. And it terrifies her.”

Sensation swelled in Riya’s chest. Riya thought in silence for several seconds. If Dee was right… No, she couldn’t open her mind to that possibility. Riya didn’t even know if she really liked this new, more jaded Courtney, and everything would be so much easier if neither of them cared. “No way,” she said. “I make her uncomfortable.”

“The truth always makes people uncomfortable. Especially people like her.”

“People like her?” Riya knew everyone at Pine Ridge had a very different opinion of Courtney than she did, and many of them didn’t like her or were scared of her.

“She’s an American princess. Someone like us starts dating a girl, not many people even blink these days, but Courtney? Everyone would talk. Some of them would pick on her, try to embarrass her. And that would be nothing compared to what she’d face at home.”

Riya had experienced almost no resistance the first time she publicly dated a girl, besides gross comments from guys who tried to make it all about them. Granted, they’d both been athletes and not the first girl-girl relationship at their school. She didn’t even think about it, she’d been so wrapped up in her feelings for Astrid that everything seemed perfectly natural. Her parents had always been open on the topic of sex, and they’d been the first ones to use the b-word. It wasn’t until they moved last year that she realized how easy her coming out had been, compared to many. That’s also when she realized that “coming out” wasn’t an event, but a never-ending process. Riya kept her hair long and wore dresses, so everyone—sometimes, even, the girl she harbored a crush on—assumed she was straight.

Dee was right; dating a girl wouldn’t be so uneventful for Courtney Chastain. Assuming she wanted to, of course. And an assumption based on a thirteen-year-old’s kiss four years ago was not a sound one.

Riya nudged Dee’s foot with hers. “How’d you get so good at this queer stuff?”

Dee shrugged. “My older brother’s gay, maybe genderqueer. He’s working it out. It’s tough for a gay Puerto Rican dude living in Tennessee, you know? So I got really involved in the community. So many people are ready to tell their stories to someone who’ll listen and not judge. Listening’s easy. I’m getting better at the not-judging part.”

“That’s really cool.”

Other students trickled onto the court. Dee and Riya started a bump circle with them, warming up until the session officially started. Tiffany, Stefanie, and Elise walked up, but Elise laid a blanket on the ground about fifteen feet from the court. Colt, David, Derek, and Courtney arrived together along with Courtney’s friend Bridget. Since breakfast, Courtney’s hair had been freed of its bun, and it tumbled around her shoulders, glinting in the sunlight.

Courtney and Bridget placed towels on the ground within a couple feet of the net post closest to the forest. They’d done this for every volleyball day so far, but never so close.

“You really should move back, Courtney,” Colt said.

She shimmied her shoulders. “I want to be close to the action.”

He rolled his eyes and joined the warm-up scrimmage. “Your funeral.”

Becky walked to the edge of the court, her ponytail swinging for all it was worth, and watched for a minute. Riya felt Courtney’s closeness like static on her skin, her pores tingling with awareness. Finally, Becky blew her whistle.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” she chirped. “These teams look good, so how about we just start a game.”

There were six players to a side. Though that’s how many played on a court, it was too many for sand. Riya reminded herself that this was recreational volleyball and ordered her competitive side to take a back seat. Dee, Tiffany, and two boys and a girl she didn’t really know were on Riya’s team. The girl was named Jenna and moved quickly but had terrible control, each hit shanking off in a wild direction. Derek, David, Stefanie, Colt, and two other girls squared off against them. The game began.

Becky fancied herself a referee but obviously didn’t know the difference between a carry and a clean hit, so she was basically a scorekeeper and line judge. Half of the players were pretty terrible, slapping at the ball with open hands or letting it fall at their feet. David thought he was awesome, but…not so much. Every time he touched the ball, it rose no higher than his forehead, then he yelled at whoever stood next to him for not saving it.

Most of the others, like Dee, Derek, and Colt, were decent and kept the game going. Every time Courtney cheered for Derek or Colt, Riya’s muscles tensed, and she willed herself to stay focused. As usual, Tiffany and Stefanie were incredible. They moved on the court like opposing forces of nature. The confidence they lacked in social situations detonated the volleyball court. Elise burst into applause when the twins went head-to-head, regardless of the victor.

Riya was finally getting into the rhythm of the game when Courtney slapped her hands together and whooped, celebrating Derek’s perfectly positioned tip. Riya’s shoulders burned with the memory of those same hands pressed against her skin earlier that morning. Courtney had been so close Riya could see the detailed texture of Courtney’s cotton candy lips. Her legs nearly went weak with the flashback.

“Ready!” Dee called just a little too loudly.

Riya broke from her reverie to find her friend staring directly at her, her lips twisted and one eyebrow raised.

“Ready,” Riya echoed.

Riya’s team won easily, twenty-one to thirteen.

“Rematch!” David called.

Everyone gulped down a quick drink of water from bottles scattered around the edge of the court. By then, all the boys were shirtless and most of the girls had stripped down to bathing suit tops. Riya wore a red sports bra.

Stefanie took control of her team, placing Derek and Colt—by far, the fastest players—on each side of David to cover him. She pulled Kanda, a Thai girl who could bump set but not much else, to stand next to her.

Three points into the second game, Courtney stood, raising her arms to the sky in a lingering stretch. She shimmied out of her shorts, then crossed her arms, gripping the hemline of her shirt, and tugged it over her head so slowly Riya thought someone had hit the slow-mo button on her life. The sky-blue bikini hung low on her hips, which narrowed to a slim, muscled stomach as the shirt rose higher. Riya’s heart galloped in her chest.

“Service,” Derek called, and Riya ripped her attention back to the game just in time to receive his serve. She bumped it over the net, setting Stefanie up for a disastrous quick hit.

When the ball slammed into the ground, Tiffany turned to Riya with a disapproving look.

“Sorry,” Riya said.

But then, her gaze found Courtney again, who’d finally escaped the shirt, sitting on her towel, rubbing sunscreen on her long, slender arms.

Derek must have called service, but Riya didn’t hear it. Dee passed the serve, and it landed on the sand, halfway between Tiffany and Riya. Tiffany, who’d been fully expecting Riya to give her another great set, glared at her with a raised eyebrow.

Riya mumbled another apology. Dee laughed, which drew a confused look from Tiffany.

Dee came up under the guise of giving Riya an encouraging low five. “You’re staring,” she whispered.

“But, Jesus, can you blame me?”

Dee clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

When Courtney smoothed the lotion down the length of her legs, Riya became the worst player on her team. Jenna carried more weight than she did.

“Get it together!” Tiffany called after her ninth error.

She tried and failed, repeatedly. Even when she wasn’t looking at Courtney, the girl shone in her peripheral vision, demanding attention.

Finally, Courtney stopped smoothing glossy liquid over her incredible dancer’s body and laid flat on the towel, removing her from Riya’s constant line of sight. But, by then, it was too late. Her team lost twenty-one to eighteen.

Everyone smacked hands underneath the net.

“Way to make it interesting, campers!” Becky said.

“Tie-breaker to fifteen,” Tiffany said, her tone brooking no argument.

“Yep,” Stefanie said, a glint in her eye.

“Oh, okay,” Becky said, unsure. “Yeah.”

Riya felt a little sorry for Becky. She leaned over and whispered, “Rally scoring, win by two.”

Becky gave her a small smile. So adorable. She repeated Riya’s words, calling them out to all the players.

The third game transformed the atmosphere. Even the less competitive players dove into the sand and sprinted out of bounds to save balls. There was something about a tie-breaker that brought out the best in players. They traded points, no team gaining more than a two-point lead at any time. The play was so intense, Riya almost forgot about Courtney’s tiny bikini. She could almost ignore the way the sun glistened off Courtney’s skin. Almost.

“Eighteen to seventeen,” Becky announced, bouncing on her toes, signaling for Dee to serve the ball.

Riya stood center front with Tiffany next to her, a setter’s happy spot. This was their chance to finish the game. Derek returned Dee’s serve on the first hit, making Stefanie grunt with frustration. Riya groaned internally when the ball flew straight at Jenna. The girl hit the ball with a single extended forearm, closing her eyes as it impacted her skin. To Riya’s surprise, it floated in a high arc, heading only a couple of feet out of bounds.

“Mine!” Riya sprang forward, crossing in front of Tiffany, parallel to the net. Tiffany pulled her arms back to give Riya space. Riya tracked the ball against the blue sky, instinctively calculating its trajectory versus hers. She squatted low and stretched her right arm out, fist closed, swinging slightly. The ball bounced off her fist and flew backward toward the court.

Then she tripped on the out-of-bounds rope, arms flailing, feet kicking up sand. She stumbled for what felt like minutes. Her knees fell on a towel, and her momentum carried her forward. Her arms caught her half a second before she would’ve collided, full-body, with Courtney Chastain. Her chest barely brushed Courtney’s, setting her skin ablaze.

Courtney’s eyes flew open, then focused slowly, the pupils shrinking to make more room for sapphire blue. Riya hovered inches over Courtney’s glistening body. Her mouth went dry.

Courtney’s lips parted as her gaze drifted down to Riya’s arms, then further down to Riya’s heaving chest, returning to settle on Riya’s lips. Riya froze as memories from four years ago filled her mind. She could almost feel Courtney’s slender fingers tracing circles on the back of her neck, the warmth of her knees pressing into Riya’s thighs. The smell of coconut filled Riya’s nostrils.