The Secret (2 page)

Mr. Drake continued going through the rubric for the book report and I felt my head start to spin—deconstructing the hero/antihero…what was he talking about? I opened the syllabus for the year and wondered how I would ever catch up. Running my finger down the sheet for February, I saw we had three more assignments on top of this one. Turning the page, I started down March, stopping next to the date March 16
th
. Four days before the Spring Equinox. My hand started shaking and I quickly shut the syllabus. Not now. I couldn’t think about that now.

“Lanie.”

Coming back from my thoughts, I looked up. Mr. Drake was staring down at me.

I looked around cautiously. How long had he been calling my name? The class seemed to be talking amongst themselves, not paying attention to me. Relief washed through me.

“Is everything okay, Ms. Hart?” Mr. Drake frowned at me.

“S-sorry.” I knew my mind had wandered. It was a bad habit I’d sworn to work on.

He frowned, but not in a scolding way. “I know it’s hard to start at a new school.”

The guy in front of me glanced back.

“Yeah.” I’d go with the excuse Mr. Drake was giving me for my mental wanderings.

“Do you think you can have the report done for tomorrow, or do you want to wait until Monday?”

I opened my syllabus, again, trying to find the details of the report. My stomach began to churn at the thought of being up all night trying to figure it out. But I didn’t want him to think I was already behind. “Uh…” I found the date, February 9
th
—Hero/Antihero Deconstruction. “I don’t…”

“I’ll help her.” This time, the boy in front of me turned around, holding onto the back of the seat and facing me. Now his eyes looked blue.

Mr. Drake looked slightly amused. “Mr. Curtis? You know this is worth 35% of her grade for this semester.”

The pounding in my chest sped up again.

“Sure.” He looked up at Mr. Drake, and shrugged. “I’ve got some time on my hands right now. She’ll have it done by tomorrow.”

Panic started to settle into me. “I don’t think—”

He waved his hand in the air, dismissing me and looking at Mr. Drake. “We got this.”

The bell rang and I glanced at the clock on the wall. I couldn’t believe an hour was already gone.

Mr. Drake yelled to the class. “Remember your reports.” He turned back to me. “Is this okay with you, Ms. Hart?”

“Lanie,” I corrected rather harshly, hating his formality and feeling nervous.

Mr. Drake shook his head. “Lanie,” he said, rather forced.

“I’ll find you.” Pulling his notebook off his desk, the boy headed for the door. I couldn’t help but watch the way his black shirt stretched across the back of his shoulders, making my heart flutter.

“And I guess you’ll have your report into me.”

I looked back and Mr. Drake rolled his eyes. He turned away and muttered something about how beauty was deceiving.

At lunch I surveyed the cafeteria, looking for…him. Mr. Curtis? A first name would be helpful. Dumping my backpack onto a table, I ripped open the front pocket, digging around for my standby book—
Pride and Prejudice
.

“Hey.”

I froze.

Sitting down quickly, the same boy from before took my book, studying the front. “Classic.” Placing it back into my hand, he leaned closer.

I couldn’t breathe for a second. It wasn’t that I hadn’t ever had a boyfriend before…but when I looked into his eyes, I could hardly think and my mouth felt dry.

“Hey.” I tried to smile.

Staring up at my hair, he leaned back folding his arms. “I’m Jake.” He didn’t stick his hand out or anything, just tipped his head down slightly.

“Lanie.” I knew he knew, but it felt like I had to do the introduction thing.

The already familiar half-smile touched his lips. “Yeah.”

“Reed.” A heavy tray dropped to the table. A tall, overly-muscular guy with crew cut blonde hair sat heavily next to Jake. He stuck his hand out to me and held it in the air.

“I…” Swallowing, I took his hand. “I’m Lanie.” His hand pulled away right as I gave him a little half-shake.

Reed surveyed my face, opening what looked like a little carton of milk between his big hands. “I know.” Taking a gulp that left a little mustache, he picked up his fork and popped a whole egg into his mouth. “Everyone knows who you are.”

“You mean everyone knows who
I
am.” A blonde, well put together kind of girl, with matching jacket and coordinated lipstick plunked her tray next to Reed and nodded to me. “Thought you could keep the new girl all to yourself?”

My head was spinning. This had never happened to me before on my first day of school—and I’d had plenty of first days to know how they were supposed to go.

A mouth full of food, Reed leaned over and kissed the girl on the mouth.

She slapped his face, but leaned away casually and giggled. “You’re disgusting.”

Reed laughed through his food.

She opened her diet drink and turned her fake eyelashes to me. “So you’re what the buzz is about?”

I wanted to laugh, thinking that her face was the most Miss Teen Magazine face I’d ever seen up close—perfect eyebrows, liner, eye shadow, blush—not to mention her blonde, large curls that looked like they’d never need to be freshened. I was clearly sitting across from the life-size version of Sport Ken and School-Girl Barbie. What, exactly, Jake was I didn’t know yet.

I tried not to blink too much at the question. My geek brother, Rob, told me I always blink too much when I’m trying to think of a response. “I guess—I wouldn’t say I’m enough to generate a buzz.”

Her eyebrows raised and she smiled. “The modest type? Hmm…we just might have room for you.” Hesitating for a moment, she gave me a wicked grin and stuck her hand out. “I’m Marsha.”

On autopilot, I shook her hand. Room for me? I seriously doubted that last statement. I wasn’t the Barbie/Ken group type. Usually, I fit somewhere between the loner art kids that stayed after in the art room to sketch and the somewhat sarcastic Goth kids that were mostly normal. Minus the dressing Goth thing, which I refused to do.

“Room for who?” A tall, brown-haired girl with dark skin and glasses sat at the end of the table. Holding an iPad in front of her, she turned to me and smiled. She was the antithesis of Marsha—down to the flawed eyebrows and simple, A-line haircut. I immediately liked her.

“Jake’s new
project
.”

It was meant to be snide—that’s all there was to it. I felt my face redden.

Marsha sipped on her diet pop with a hooded smile aimed at Jake.

I shifted, feeling embarrassed and glancing at Jake as well. He hadn’t said a word the whole time and now he glared angrily at Marsha.

“Dude! Why do you always have to piss him off?” Reed flung out his pinky and tipped over the rest of her diet pop.

Giving Reed a flabbergasted look, Marsha began mopping up the spill. “I’ll pretend that didn’t happen.” Her nostrils flared at him with annoyance.

Reed smacked his gums and leaned back, waving his hand in the air. “Pretend away.”

The brown-haired girl took a fry off her plate and smiled at me in camaraderie, like we were both enduring a sibling sideshow.

“I’m Karen.” She didn’t shake my hand or give any formality. “How do you like the cafeteria food?”

Jake stood abruptly, leaning over the table and picking up my backpack. “We’ve got work to do.” Grabbing my book, he turned to Reed. “See you later—clean up her stuff.”

Reed nodded, opening another carton of milk. “Can do.”

Feeling like I was in some sort of alternative universe, I didn’t move. “Where are we going?”

Clenching his jaw, Jake walked around the table and roughly put his hand on my bicep, pulling me into a standing position.

“Ow.” Jerking away from him, I was suddenly a little bit scared. What was he doing?

Marsha glared at me. “Just be grateful…obviously you’re the chosen one.”

I paused, looking between Jake and the rest of them. What did she mean by that?

Putting his hand on the small of my back, Jake nudged me forward. “I need to talk to you.”

“Get away from me.” I jerked away and started for the doors. This whole situation was insane, and I just wanted to be gone.

Jake fell into step beside me. “I just need to talk to you,” he said, voice relaxing and softer now.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

The way he said it caught my attention and I slowed down.  “Where are we going?” I wasn’t really scared anymore walking beside him. He hadn’t tried to touch me again, or force me to go with him.

Pushing the doors open, we stepped outside together. Even though the weather was trying to be spring, cold nipped at my bare arms and I pulled them to my chest. Hadn’t I been warned about getting into a car with strangers—not to mention the fact no one would even know where I was going?

Jake stopped next to a red Mustang, going to the passenger side and opening my door.

Could a potential attacker be so chivalrous?

“Get in.” Even as he said it, I could feel the anger from before still inside him. But underneath that anger I felt something else too.

I still didn’t move. “Where are we going?”

Exasperated, he shut the door and stepped face to face with me, his breath hot on my forehead. “I moved here too. Last year. From the…” he purposely trailed, eyes flashing, “…
Boston
area
.”

Episode 2: Near Miss

He was from Boston? My chest constricted and I told myself to breathe normally. Pushing the fallen hair out of my face, I crossed my arms, trying to appear casual and not react to the panic I was feeling. “Are you a Sox fan, too?”

“Andover.” He squinted at me suspiciously, and I couldn’t help but notice a tiny scar under his right eye. He leaned back onto his heels, heaving in a deep breath. “Have you been there?”

Ignoring the pounding of my heart, I looked him up and down. I knew what he was asking. And it wasn’t about Andover...it was about The Foundation.

The feel of cold metal against my back and Dr. Luth’s trembling fingers flashed through my mind. Blue, red, purple, gold had almost drowned me, trying to bleed out of the tiny holes left from the tattoo needle. Unwillingly, I touched my left ear and shut my eyes, trying to keep my emotions at a discreet distance.

“Lanie?” His tone was soft, but he didn’t move.

“Sorry—got a little dizzy there.” Opening my eyes I forced out a strained laugh, hoping to cover for my lapse. I wasn’t going back there. My compulsory blinking kicked in as I tried to focus on his question and think of an escape route. “Umm…No. Never had a reason to go to Andover.” Denial was my friend right now. “I lived in Cambridge, ya know with all the smart, snooty professors, and the kids that thought they were smart because their parents were smart. You know the type?” Pushing past him, I moved in the direction of the main doors. “I’m going back in.” I didn’t need an explanation to walk away, did I? If he was with The Foundation, I wasn’t getting in his car—he’d have to cause a big scene and I knew The Foundation didn’t like big scenes. The bell rang and I increased my speed.

“Lanie!”

Out of nowhere a black SUV tore through the drop off lane, missing me by inches.

My heart pounding, I put my hand to my chest, watching the SUV turn a corner without slowing down. Idiot. I started off again for the main doors.

“Are you okay?” Jake was beside me, opening the door for me. Then he stopped, holding onto my arm. His touch was softer this time and his eyes raked over my face. “Are you okay?”

I leaned away, his warm hand confusing me and the concern in his eyes making me feel utterly mystified. “Yeah.” I tried not to notice that we were staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Jake let me go, rubbing his hand across his face. “That scared me.”

I picked up my backpack, walking past him into the school. “Me too. I need to get to class.”

Putting his hand up to stop me, his face looked resigned. “I know the smart, rich kid type.”

“What?”

“My Mom was a teacher at one of those rich kid schools in Andover.”

Puzzled, I stopped. “A college prep school?” This wasn’t about The Foundation? My mind raced.

Looking down and pulling his hand away, he sighed. “Yeah—the one all the rich, snobby kids go to.” His voice mirrored my sarcasm from earlier. “I went there, because of her. But, well…she was murdered last year. I…I didn’t know if you’d seen any of the press coverage. It was pretty horrible.”

My breathing slowed and a ray of hope leapt into my heart. He wasn’t asking about The Foundation at all…stupid, stupid. Rob always said I made everything about me. Could he possibly just be a normal, semi-tortured guy? No one had sent him?

Running his hand over his modelesque hair, he looked at me in confusion. “Do you think that’s funny?”

No, no, no. Realizing the relief on my face was being misread as something else, I frowned. My father’s face surfaced in my mind, bringing with it the heavy grief that always felt like a scab being ripped off of a large, infected wound. Before I realized it, I put my hand on his arm, trying to take on some of his pain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for your loss, Jake.” It was ironic; I hated it when people said that to me.

Jake seemed to relax, but leaned away from me. “It’s just...I don’t want people talking about it—ya know?” His eyes shifted to the throng of students walking past us, and I noticed him reach for a coin-looking thing attached to the chain around his neck. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t know about it or put it together somehow and ask someone. It was just…it was... I don’t talk about it.” Clenching his fists in and out, I could see that Jake was understandably still suffering. “Well.” He looked me up and down cautiously. “I normally don’t talk about it. I guess I just did the opposite of what I wanted to do.”

When people say they don’t want to talk about it…it makes people want to talk about it. But—I knew how he felt. Giving a solemn nod I pretended to lock my lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Pondering this, he finally blew out a breath and gestured to the door. “You want to ditch class?” A little mischievousness peeked at the edges of his smile, but his eyes looked wary.

Leftover adrenaline and grief melted away and I tried to smile, lifting up the class schedule I’d stuck inside of my front pocket. “I gotta go.”

Snatching the paper, he shook his head. “No you don’t. It’s your first day and they don’t even know you’re supposed to be there yet.”

Butterflies thumped into my stomach and I laughed. I’d never been asked to ditch the first day. Hesitating, I searched his face. “What did Marsha mean when she said I was your project?”

“Huh…” Jake let out a little irritated chuckle. “Look, I know how it feels to be the new kid.”

I looked up at him, a million questions running through my mind. How many times had he moved? Why was he in Colorado? Did he really like me or was he just being nice to me because I was new?

The hallway had emptied and a teacher started coming toward us.