Keeping You a Secret (15 page)

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Authors: Julie Anne Peters

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Dating & Sex, #Homosexuality

BOOK: Keeping You a Secret
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Her eyes closed. She opened them and peered into mine. Questioning. “Are you sorry?"

“No. It just didnʼt go well.” My vision blurred.

Glancing over her shoulder at her father and little brother, who were gawking at us from the living room sofa, Cece took my hand and led me out to the sun porch.

We sat together on the slatted swing, her arm around me. "Did you tell him about us?" she asked.

I dug in my pocket for a Kleenex, shaking my head. "I couldn’t. I’m sorry."

Cece clapped a hand to her chest. "Thank God."

I blew my nose and frowned at her.

"I mean… well, never mind. I’m just glad you’re here.” She drew me close and kissed me. Made the heat spread through my body. A welcome affirmation that I’d done the right thing.

Conversation was forgotten for a while. It felt so right being here with Cece. I’d fought it so long and craved it so hard. I wanted to know everything about her, explore her, get inside her head. Strange. It felt as if I'd known her forever, yet at the same time, knew her not at all. And the adventure of finding her out excited me, like nothing and no one ever had done before.

Cece pulled away from me and stuck out her tongue. Not at me, at the window behind us. I twisted around to see Eric smooching the glass. It made me laugh. It made Cece scoot down the swing away from me. "What?” I said.

She gazed over my shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Mom doesn’t want Eric to witness my perversion. He might get the idea that two girls kissing is natural or something?" She stretched out lengthwise, her head on the armrest, legs steepled over my thighs. I wrapped my arms around her knees and rested my cheek on them, watching her. Soaking her up.

Still glaring at the window, she added, "At least we don’t have a double standard, which really pisses Greg off."

“What do you mean?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "I told Mom and Dad if I can’t be myself around here with my girlfriends, then Grag shouldnʼt be allowed to either. Dad said I was right.” She grinned.

I smiled. “You are so amazing." I wondered how many girlfriends she was talking about. "When did you know, Cece?" I asked.

“About you?”

It wasn’t my question, but the answer intrigued me. I nodded.

“The first time I saw you at your locker," she answered. “January second. Six fifty-three A.M."

"No way." I wrinkled my nose. 

She laughed. “Girl, you set off my gaydar like sirens." 

“No way,” I said again. 

She smiled. "You did. And my gayer never lies. Although later, I thought you might be bi." 

No, I wasn't bi. I was sure of that now. The depth of desire – it was unbelievable. That, and the certainty of this being right. Being me. How could she know before I did, though? "How could you know before me?"

She laughed again. "I didn't. You knew."

She was right. I knew. I just never met the person who'd light my torch and lead the way. “Why did you wait so long?" I asked her. “Why didn't you just, you know, put the moves on me?"

Her face grew serious. “I wasn't reaity sure what was going on with you. I mean, you gave out mixed signals. Then it dawned on me, duh. You hadn't come out to yourseII yet. I thought I’d Iet you decide how you wanted to handle it. You needed to be sure. You needed to make the first move. And girl," she flopped an arm across her eyes, “you were killing me."

I smiled. “What if I’d never made the first move?"

She peeked under her forearm. “I was prepared to get a sex change operation."

I smacked her shins and we both cracked up. The front door whooshed open and Kate popped her head out. “HeIIo, Holland," she said. 

“Hi, Mrs. Goddard." I sat up straighter, giving Cece back her legs.

"Cece, you know the rules," she said.

“Mother," Cece clucked in disgust, “for God's sake, we're only talking. We're fully clothed. You can see our hands. Show her, Holland." Cece held hers out for inspection. I sort to wrapped mine around myself.

Cece’s rnom nailed her with a look before popping back inside.

“Youʼre bad,” I said.

"Well,” Cece scowled, “she emharrasses me." 

“Let me guess. Slumber parties are taboo at the Goddard house?”

A slow smile spread across Cece’s face. "Ah," her head lolled back, “those were the days.’

I tickled her into submission.

We talked and played until we were both loony. I hadn’t felt this giddy since I was a kid at Christmas. Cece was a joy to be with. So fun. A blast. It was hard to leave her, but I had to. Mom might call over to Seth’s, which could initiate a confrontation I wasn’t ready to deal with yet. This was all too new, too intoxicating.

"I’ll call you tonight,” Cece said, the tips of her fingers curling over the Jeep’s window as I rolled it down. I traced every ring on both her hands. We kissed good-bye and couldn't stop; didn’t want to, until finally,
finally
I screamed, “Enough!"

It would never be enough. I cranked up the window. As our hands pressed together against the glass, I started the ignition. Started my life over again.

Chapter 17

I snuck up behind Cece in the lunch line and covered her eyes with my hands. “Long time no see,” I murmured in the back of her hair. She jerked around. The others in line turned to look. Brandi’s eyes widened. “I’ve been searching for you all morning,” I told Cece. “I missed you at your locker."

“Um, excuse us.” Cece smiled at her friends and sidestepped around me, being careful not to touch. Why? Over her shoulder, she added, “I need to get this algebra assignment from Holland. Entertain yourselves." She waggled a limp wrist at them. “I know it'lI be hard."

Motioning me out of the cafeteria and into an alcove across the hall by the drinking fountain, she whispered urgently, "What are you doing?"

“Uh, pretending I love you?” I reached up to brush a wisp of hair out of her mouth.

She lurched away. Her eyes darted around.

My stomach fell. What was that look? Disgust? Horror?

God, was it over? Was this weekend just a mirage? A game?

She must’ve seen how white I was because she said, “Oh, Holland, no. Don’t think that.” She gave my hand a brief squeeze. "We just,” her eyes swept the area again, “we need to cool it here. In school. You know what I mean?"

“No, I don’t know what you mean. I thought you were out and proud."

“I am. But you’re not."

“I want to be. I want to shout it from the hills: I love Cece Goddard!"

"Shit." She clapped a hand over my mouth. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? For now, just cool it."

The hurt must've registered on my face. “Holland, I love you," she said softly, tracing the outline of my jaw. “I just don’t want it to hurt you."

Hurt me? How could love hurt me?

She gave me a peck on the cheek and scurried off, leaving me hanging — longing, lost.

***

She sat with Brandi in art class; didn't even try to slip me a note or catch my eye. Brandi glanced over her shoulder once, sort of studying me, but Cece said something in her ear and they both laughed.

It made me feel like I was the butt of the joke. 

I didn’t get it. Was this a whole new world with different social mores? Different rules? If so, I wished she would’ve clued me in.

They left together, Cece and Brandi. Like a homeless puppy, I shadowed them. If Brandi touches her arm one more time, I seethed, she’s going down. At the stairwell, they split off, Brandi continuing up the arts wing and Cece taking the stairs. Halfway down, Cece twisted her head up to meet my eyes and smile. l didnʼt smile back.

"I hope you’re planning to take more art classes in college."

I jumped. Mackel had ambled up beside me. “What?" I rewound the tape in my head. “I… hadn’t thought about it.” Hadn’t thought about anything but her.

"You have a gift," he said. “It’s rare and you shouldn’t waste it.”

The words tripped through my semi-conscious. A rare gift. “Thank you,” I said automatically.

“I wish I had your vision. Oh, how I wish I had your vision." He sighed and tramped down the stairs.

My vision? At the moment I was operating blind.

***

Cece phoned on my way to work. “Can you get away later?” she asked.

The sound of her voice thrilled me. “Yeah, of course," I said.

“I'm working till eleven, but you could come to the donut shop, or we could meet afterwards? Go somewhere to talk?”

“Afterwards," I decided aloud. “I’ll pick you up at Hott ‘N Toot.”

“Out back,” she said. “In the alley."

“Okay." Was she embarrassed to be seen with me in public? Was that it? Apparently “proud" didn’t necessarily follow "out."

I slammed in the house after work to find Neal in the kitchen, thumping Hannah on the back while she wailed. “Your mom went to pick up a prescription?” He had to yell to be heard. "Hannah’s teething.”

I dropped my duffel and went to her. “Here, let me try.” Neal transferred the baby to my outstretched arms. “There, Sissy.” I rocked her gently. “It’s okay.” I stuck my finger in her mouth and massaged her gums. The crying softened to hiccups. Don’t ask me how I knew to do that. Maternal instinct?

“Thank you, thank you, thank you." Neal pressed his hands togather in praise.

I carted Hannah downstairs, where Faith was plugged into her death rock. She spotted me and doused a smoldering stick of incense.

So what? The whole world could go up in flames as long as Cece emerged from the smoke. I set Hannah on the bed, then changed and snarfed down the package of Ding Dongs that Mrs. Ruiz had slipped into my pocket at Children's Cottage. I dumped out my books on the bed to get a head start. Just as I was finishing the last problem on definite integrals Mom showed up. She tiptoed in, a finger pressed to her lips.

“Huh? Oh." I hadn't realized Hannah had fallen asleep in the crook of my arm. She fit so naturally there. “Seth dropped by earlier,” Mom whispered, scooping up Hannah.

I lowered my calc book. “`What’d he want?”

“To see you, I would assume.”

Huh. I hadn't seen Seth all day. He was obviously avoiding me the way I was him.

"Faith, would you please not burn candles down here?” I heard Mom say. "It took me forever to scrape the wax off your dresser this morning.”

Faith blew out the candle — audibly. As Mom was leaving, Faith said, “While you were in here, did you happen to see my snake? I canʼt find her.”

“Your what?!"

Oh, Mom. I shook my head. She must’ve realized, or hoped, Faith was kidding because she sighed and stomped up the stairs. "Score," I called over the partition.

I visualised Faiths smirk. Then she said, “Have you seen my snake? She’s just a baby, 'bout two feet long. Green.”

She
was
joking, wasn’t she? "Yeah, I saw her slither under your covers and leave you a little deposit,” I said.

Faith snorted.

I crawled in under my own covers. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and recapture Saturday night. The kiss. 

My phone startled me. 

"Hi,” Cece said. “Are you coming?” 

Oh, my God. Iʼd fallen asleep. I blinked over at my clock. It was twenty after eleven. "Iʼll be right there. Iʼm sorry. It's going to take me half an hour.”

“I'll wait," she said. “Just hurry.”

***

She was huddled in the shop doorway, the halogen security lamp casting harsh beams across her face. “I'm sorry,” we both said togather as she clambered into the Jeep and slammed the door. It made us laugh, nervous like.

"What are you sorry about?” she asked. 

“Being late. I didn't forget. I fell asleep.”

She scooted across the seat and kissed me. I kissed her back. Didnʼt want to let her go. “Thereʼs a twenty-four-seven coffee shop down the street,” Cece said. "We can talk there.” 

I released her, reluctantly. “What are you sorry about?” I asked, shifting into reverse and backing out of the alley. 

“Today," she answered. "I can't believe I treated you like that.” She reached for my hand and held it in my lap. “Forgive me?”

"Of course." How could I not?

"This is going to be hard at school," she said. “Turn left here."

I followed her directions to the restaurant, the Blue Onion. When we arrived I turned off the ignition and sat in the parking lot, holding her hand over my leg, feeling her warmth radiate through me. She lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Come on, let's talk." Her door squeaked open. 

Only one table was occupied. Three women in scrubs, who looked as if they’d just gotten off work, were eating breakfast. Cece asked the waitress if we could have a booth in back and we slid in opposite each other. Cece propped her elbows on the table and spread out her hands. I intertwined my fingers with hers. I loved her hands. So strong. Soft. Loved all her rings.

"What would you ladies like?” the waitress asked.

“Black coffee," Cece answered, her eyes not leaving mine. “Better make it decaf.”

“Make mine a hot chocolate." I smiled up at the waitress.

"You got it."

She left and Cece said, “I love you.” 

“Do you?” After today I wasn’t so sure. 

“No." She shook her head. “No, I only get up at the butt-crack of dawn so I can pretend we're having breakfast together at our lockers. I don’t even have a seven o‘clock class, you know. I dropped it after the first day.”

“What!”

“Then I have to haul ass down three flights of stairs to pass you in the hall between third and fourth period. And I stall around outside the restroom by the art studio so I can watch you walking down the hall. I’m late to algebra every day. I love the way you move, by the way.” She eyed me up and down. Then her eyes darkened and she added, “I tried to bribe that idiot Winslow to switch seats with me, but he's got the hots for you bad."

"You bribed Winslow?" I let out a short laugh. "How much?”

She huffed. “Twenty bucks. I told him if that wasnʼt enough, I’d have sex with him. But he still wouIdn't move.” 

l burst into laughter. She disengaged our hands and started checking off on her fingers. “Let's see, l drive by Children’s Cottage after school to see if you’re there yet, to see if l can catch a glimpse of you in the window. I go by your house on the way to school. Sometimes from the library, l’d watch you guys leave for lunch. A couple of times I even followed you so I could maybe find out what you liked to eat. So I'd know if I ever, ever got to take you out…" She paused and glanced away. “But that was too hard, seeing you with him.” 

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