Keeping Her Secret (15 page)

Or maybe it was one big cosmic joke.

Chapter Fifteen

The last few days at camp, Riya had finally gotten back into the swing of things. Every time she saw Courtney, her heart squeezed painfully, but she focused on making the most of the last few days in a beautiful place with some of the best friends she’d ever had. At lunch the second to last day, they ate pizza and took hundreds of selfies with each other.

Courtney sat on the other end of the table with Jenna and Kanda, and Riya was doing an excellent job of pretending she didn’t exist.

The small redhead, Olivia, marched up to Courtney, arms crossed.

“Who hurt you?” Olivia demanded. She looked ready to brawl on Courtney’s behalf.

Courtney shook her head. “No one. I hurt someone else,” Courtney said, her voice thick and scratchy.

The girl’s tiny features twisted in confusion. “Why are you so sad, then?”

“Because I wish I hadn’t.”

Riya’s heart did somersaults in her chest. She raised her head to openly watch the interaction, but Courtney didn’t notice.

Olivia considered that for a couple seconds, face scrunched up in confusion. “So apologize.” She said it, just like that. As if it were so simple. As if a couple words could make up for the betrayal Courtney’d perpetrated.

Courtney gave her a small smile. “I think it’s too late.”

“My grandma told me it’s never too late to apologize,” Olivia said.

“Your grandma might be right. Thanks, Liv.”

The girl nodded and trotted back to her table, confident in her simplistic worldview. Riya envied her. Courtney went back to ignoring Riya, and Riya went back to pretending like it didn’t hurt.

Later that afternoon, Riya and her friends gamboled from the art hut to the courts for the last day of volleyball at Pine Ridge. How fitting that their last artsy session had included weaving embroidery thread together to create friendship bracelets. Each girl’s wrist sported a five-strand braid of red, blue, purple, white, and pink. One color to represent each of them.

Their laughter echoed across the lake, loud and boisterous, chasing away any sorrow about their impending separation.

Dee’s face blazed with happiness the second she spotted Colt warming up with some of the other players. She ran up to him, throwing her arms around his waist. He wrapped her in a bear hug. Dee’s feet lifted several inches off the sand, and she squealed with delight. Colt planted a noisy, showy kiss square on Dee’s mouth.

Riya scanned the area, telling herself she wasn’t searching for Courtney. She was making sure Courtney wasn’t there. Totally different.

Riya’d only seen Courtney at mealtimes, but at night, Riya laid awake until she heard Courtney settle in below her. Every night, she fantasized about feeling that shifting weight on her mattress, but it never came.

Riya knew Dee was right. Her expectations had been unreasonable for someone so scared of her truth being exposed to the world. But on the other hand, wasn’t it unfair of Courtney to expect Riya to keep hiding, pretending, and lying to her friends? Riya couldn’t decide who was to blame for their collapse. Maybe it was both their faults. Maybe it was neither.

Either way, she tried to focus on what she did have. Beautiful Blue Ridge Mountain weather, awesome friends, and volleyball every other day.

To Riya’s surprise, Elise joined the bump circle instead of going directly to her usual spot. Stefanie stared at her, open-mouthed.

Elise shrugged. “Last chance, right?”

As people arrived, the teams formed naturally with a little guidance from Tiffany, who made sure talent was evenly distributed. She instructed Stefanie and Riya to stay with Elise, placing David and Jenna on her own team. That was not a good sign for Elise’s gameplay.

Becky whimpered before blowing the whistle to start the game. “I’m going to miss you guys so much.”

Some days their games were competitive and some days they were less so. Today, the atmosphere was downright silly. Elise’s volleyball skills were, as advertised, quite terrible, but she tried. People tackled each other in the sand for missing easy balls. Even the twins relaxed, sending perfect sets over with lazy slaps instead of hard-driven spikes.

It was fun.

Until the last five minutes.

Halfway through the final game of the summer, Jenna hit the ball and, predictably, it went wide. Derek and Colt dove at the same time, hands outstretched. With their torsos and flailing limbs between the ball and her, Riya couldn’t see the impact. But she heard the unmistakable thud of fingers hitting the ball at a totally wrong angle.

Colt cried out in pain. He rolled over onto his back, his left hand clutching his right.

Riya dashed to his side, placing a comforting palm on his shoulder.

“Dude, are you okay?” Derek rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

Riya looked up at him. “What happened?”

“I hit the ball a nanosecond before he did. I think it jammed his fingers.”

“Go get some ice in a bag,” she said. “And a towel. Run.”

Derek nodded and sprinted toward the cafeteria.

Riya turned her attention back to Colt. Becky joined her on Colt’s other side, fumbling with a first-aid kit.

“Let me see.” Riya tugged his left wrist until he released his injured hand.

Dee knelt next to Riya on the sand, running soothing fingers up and down his left forearm and biceps.

“Which finger is it?” Riya asked. She’d jammed plenty of fingers going after the same ball as someone else over the years. It hurt like hell but usually healed in a couple of days.

Colt pointed at the base of both the middle and ring fingers on his right hand.

Riya examined them. They stretched out long and straight with no odd bends or kinks. That was good, at least. But Colt’s face crumpled with pain when she prodded with a gentle finger.

She reached across Colt to riffle through the first-aid kit. She pulled out a roll of one-inch-wide medical tape. With Becky’s cautious help, Riya taped his middle finger to his index and his ring finger to his pinkie.

“Don’t move them more than you absolutely have to. This is called buddy taping. It helps to keep the injured fingers immobile.”

Colt’s eyes went wide. “Can I play piano?”

Riya shook her head. “Probably not. If they swell and turn red in the next couple of minutes, they might be broken.”

Breathing rapidly, Derek returned with a quart-size Ziploc bag filled with ice and a small white towel.

Riya wrapped the towel around the bag of ice and pressed it against the back of Colt’s hand. “Fifteen minutes of ice every hour for two days. If it starts hurting a lot, try raising it above your heart. The tape is structural, so replace it whenever it becomes…not.”

Behind her, Elise said, “Look at Riya! She’s like a doctor or something.”

Riya shook her head, laughing. “When you’re a klutz who plays a sport, you learn first aid pretty quickly.”

“Does he need a real doctor?” Dee asked.

Riya met Colt’s panicked eyes before answering. “Maybe.”

Becky offered a hand down to his uninjured hand. Colt stared at it. Derek slipped his hands under Colt’s underarms and pulled him to a standing position.

“Let’s go see the nurse,” Becky told him. “She’ll decide whether you need to go into town or not.”

Derek grabbed Colt’s water bottle from the sidelines. “I’ll go with you.”

Colt spun back toward Riya, gesturing with a jerk of his head for Dee to come closer.

“Do not tell Courtney,” he ordered.

“Why?” Riya asked. She deserved to know that her brother was hurt.

“She’ll get so mad at us,” Dee added.

“It doesn’t matter.” Colt’s voice was scared, but not for himself. He was scared for his sister. “If I’m not back by dinner, make something up. Tell her Derek got hurt and I’m going with him to the doctor.”

“Colt—” Riya began.

His eyes pierced hers in an uncomfortably familiar way. He was trying to convey something without words. “She cannot know, not tonight. She needs to sleep tonight thinking everything’s okay.”

The talent show. The scholarship. Colt was supposed to play piano while Courtney danced tomorrow morning.

“It may be nothing,” Colt said. “A shot or something and I might be able to play. Until we know otherwise, nobody says a word to Courtney.”

“Let’s go,” Becky said. Her big eyes stared at Colt’s hand, which swelled more and more by the second. The skin between the strips of tape turned a bright shade of red.

“I don’t understand,” Riya said. “Can’t she just dance to the recording? That’s how she practiced.”

Colt shook his head. “She’ll freak. She thinks she’s cursed or something. Just don’t let her know. I’ll take care of it.”

Becky tugged on his good arm, and he relented. Derek followed closely behind them, repeatedly apologizing and offering his help.

The rest of the volleyball players strolled in silence to their cabins to prepare for the final night’s celebrations.

At dinner, Courtney kept scanning the room, her brow wrinkled. She stared at Dee, trying to catch her attention, but Dee studiously ignored her.

Riya took pity on her. She slid down the bench until she sat across from Courtney.

Courtney tried to look anywhere except at Riya but surrendered after a couple of awkward seconds.

“Do you know where he is?” Courtney asked.

Riya remembered Colt’s insistence that his sister not know about his injury. But she had to tell Courtney something, so she borrowed his suggested lie. “He had to go to the hospital.”

Courtney’s skin turned a pallid shade of white, the same color as hospital walls. “Wha—what?” Her jaw clenched and unclenched.

Colt had been right. Finding out her brother had been injured would unhinge her after all the pressure she’d put herself under.

Riya exhaled. “He’s okay,” she lied. “He went to help Derek.”

Courtney’s shoulders relaxed, but she still refused to meet Riya’s gaze.

Riya felt like a fraud. She took advantage of Courtney’s lack of eye contact and stared at the table as she spoke. “He may not be home until late. He said to tell you not to worry.”

“Should I go, too?” Courtney fidgeted in her seat. “I should go, right?”

“No!” Riya nearly screeched the word. She gripped the bench beneath her legs and tried again. “No. I…uh. I don’t think Derek would want you there.”

Courtney pressed her lips together and nodded, dropping her gaze to her plate. “Oh. Yeah. Probably not.”

Guilt stabbed Riya’s gut. She hadn’t meant to reopen old wounds. “No, it’s not that,” she said. “It’s just that the injury is in a, you know, sensitive area.”

Courtney’s pale skin blushed a stunning shade of pink.

Riya wanted to kick herself. That night on the lake, she’d told Courtney she wasn’t a liar.
Now look at me
.

Courtney continued to stare at her plate. Riya wanted to say something. She kept coming up with things in her head to say, then rejecting them.
I’m looking forward to seeing you dance
, only reminded her of the hours they’d spent alone while Courtney practiced.
So what classes are you taking next semester?
would only freak Courtney out more.
I hope we can be friends next year
. Did that sound too desperate?

Riya settled on, “Good luck tomorrow.”

Courtney raised her head and held Riya’s gaze for two eternal seconds. Something flashed deep within their aquamarine depths. Something Riya couldn’t identify.

“Thanks,” Courtney said.

Riya slid back across the wooden bench to rejoin her friends, feeling the resuming distance between them more acutely than she had since their fight.

…

Courtney opted to skip out on the last-night festivities in order to run through her dance a couple more times. Colt had said it was perfect, but Courtney knew there wasn’t such a thing as too much practice. If she practiced enough, the movements became second nature, and then her conscious mind could focus on infusing the dance with true passion.

She spun and leapt across the wooden floor of the arts hut, wishing Colt were there to practice with her. She’d listened to the song so many times that she heard it in her sleep, as soon as she woke up, and every night as she drifted off. The minor key, the soulful vocals, and the words so full of regret and longing had formed the background of her life for the last week.

But hearing the instrumental version on the piano that morning as she danced had transformed her performance, and it no longer felt complete without the live music.

Dancing without the lyrics would be a relief. Every time she heard the line
It’s me
, she had to wipe away the image of Riya listening on a phone in a couple of years, refusing to respond to any of Courtney’s pleas. She’d always wondered why the singer felt they were both running out of time, but now it made sense. Because every day neither of them made a move back to each other, it became that much harder to even imagine that they could.

Courtney slipped off her ballet shoes and slipped on some flip-flops. Her toes were bruised and beaten. After tomorrow’s performance, she promised her aching feet she’d take a short break to let some of the blisters heal.

She walked back to the cabin in blissful silence. Above her, the sky was still a dark orange from the setting sun and some of the brightest stars were already starting to make their nightly debut. When she entered the cabin, it was empty. Everyone must’ve still been at the last-night-at-camp party.

She decided to get a head start on tomorrow’s packing. She very studiously ignored Riya’s crumpled bed, small pieces of fabric sticking out of Riya’s drawers, her smell all around their bunk. Riya was everywhere.

She found herself staring at a pair of Riya’s volleyball shorts draped over the top rail of Riya’s bed. When her stomach lurched, Courtney told herself she was only nervous about tomorrow.

Girls started filtering back in before they were both ready for bed. Riya and her friends came stumbling in, drunk on laughter.

Dee leaned in and whispered something to Riya, who nodded in response.

“I’m okay,” she said.

Well, that made one of them.