Secret Life (RVHS Secrets) (6 page)

You know those scenes in movies when the whole party stops,
you hear a record scratch (as if anyone here is really that retro), and
everything morphs into slow motion. Well, that really happened. Okay, maybe not
the record part.

Everyone turned and looked at us standing just inside the
gate. If it was possible, the sun focused into a spotlight right on us. The
pause was long and dramatic.

“Hey guys. Car’s broke. Rachel picked me up walking here.”
Chris nodded to me and moved into the small crowd.

Just like that, everyone turned away. Well, the guys turned
away. The girls watched Mr. Beauty-in-Motion head toward the nearest soccer
ball. There was a plethora (
vocab
word alert!) to
choose from.
Yeah, a whole heck of a lot of balls.

“Rachel!” Amy’s voice carried from where she sat, her feet
dangling in the water, Luke swimming around in front of her. It said a lot
about them that I didn’t pause in joining them. That I knew I could head right
over even though they were hanging out together.

The party wasn’t actually that big. Ben had only invited his
close friends and a few guys from the soccer team that were not un-
invitable
. The girls were mostly girlfriends and long time
friends. The ones that had been hanging out with this group since they were
skinny nerds kicking a ball around in the road until the streetlights came on.

I circled the pool and kicked my flip-flops off to join Amy
where she splashed water in Luke’s direction.

“Hey guys.” I waved to Ben as I tested the water. “One last
day of Indian Summer, huh?”

Amy and Luke glanced at each other and did that secret
language thing where neither of them actually said anything out loud. I mean,
you couldn’t even learn that as a second language, so how was I supposed to
keep up?

“I’m going to go see what the guys are doing for lunch.”
Luke pulled himself out of the water. I tried to ignore the cologne commercial
he made with all that glistening going on since he was Amy’s.

I waited for it, knowing what was coming and wondering what
I would say. I hadn’t added the Won’t-Lie-To-Amy clause into the agreement with
Chris yet. I blame the
potential-meltdown-morning-followed-by-the-brain-stall-moment.

“So…picked him up on the side of the road?”

I couldn’t do it. I know I’d promised him, but I couldn’t
actually lie to Amy about this.
Everyone else, yes.
Amy, no.

I was already lying to her about enough things.

“Not exactly.”
I glanced across the
yard to where Chris stood by the grill with a couple of guys juggling a soccer
ball between them.

“How not exactly?”

The ball bounced to him, and after some fancy footwork I
couldn’t even follow, it soared in a smooth arc across the circle to another
guy before Chris broke away from the group.

“Very not exactly,” I admitted.

She leaned back on both hands, shaking out her tawny hair
behind her, waiting for me to continue.

“He ran to my house this morning for something about school,
and then when he found out I was coming here he basically just got in the car.”
All true. Go me.

“He went to your house.
Just showed up.
For something about school?
Without
his car?
But,
with
his
backpack with his swimsuit and stuff?” Leaning forward, she wiped her hands off
on her shorts. “And then made you bring him here?”

I was going to cave. I hadn’t even started our tutoring deal
and I was going to spill my guts to the person he asked me not to. To the only
person whose opinion he seemed to truly care about.

“Hey ladies.”
Saved
by the man himself.
Awkward.
And that wasn’t
just because of the tacky Kiss
The
Cook apron they’d
just put on him. “We’re taking a count. Hot dog or hamburger.”

I glanced at Amy. If she was ever going to let the
accusations fly, now would be a great time. Perfect actually because then it
would be on him to smooth it out. I might be an Accessory
To
Lying, but at least I wouldn’t actually be lying. Didn’t getaway car drivers
get less time? Or was that just when they cut a deal on Law & Order?

She watched me watch her for a long moment before turning
back to Chris.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger, lots of cheese.”

He grinned, relief flooding his features as he pushed that
mass of blond on top of his head out of his eyes.
“A girl
after my own heart.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the grin faded. We all
froze like some bad
claymation
cartoon for a moment before he stuttered out, “About the cheese.”

Amy reached out and patted his foot with her hand. “I know.”

It was an odd moment. The backwardness of it sent me
reeling. How was I supposed to come back to school this year with all my own
crappy changes and deal with the universe tilting on its axis like this?

Chris watched Amy until she turned toward me. His gaze
shifted finally to me in obvious reluctance. And there it was again, a bit of
concern as he studied me…some for me, some maybe for himself, wondering what
tense moment he’d stumbled into.

“Cheeseburger.
Normal
cheese.”

Was there a more insane conversation going on in the
tri-county area?

“Right.
Two
cheeseburgers.
One extra cheese, one normal cheese.”
With a head bob at each of us, he headed back to where the guys clustered on
the deck. Ah, males and the call of the open flame.

Amy’s gaze followed him as he moved around the pool to the
grill Ben was supervising. It lingered there a moment before turning back to
me.

And then I was the worried one. “Is there something
I
should know?”

Amy’s brows squished down, nose squished up to meet them.
“What do you mean?”

I glanced toward the grill again. Chris’s back was to us as
he helped Ben with the …well, whatever it was men of all ages did around fire
and raw meat.

“That thing you just did,” I said. But wow, it sounded like
an accusation. I guess it kind of was. My gaze slipped toward the open part of
the yard where Luke tossed a ball back and forth with a guy I dated two years
ago. “You just totally scoped Chris walking and then kind of did the
linger-on-him thing once he was over there.”

We both turned to look at Chris, barefoot, shirtless and
with baggy shorts just hanging off those hipbones.

“Honestly, Rachel.”
Amy quirked a brow at
me.
“Are you really worried about
that?”

Yes. Yes, I was. Amy had emotionally killed herself over and
over again because of that guy, and now he was hers for the taking. I should
know. I spent six years picking her up from her Chris-obsessed-funk over and
over…and over again, worried constantly about her battered heart. What if she
panicked with Luke? What if she couldn’t trust that what she had was real? That
he really wouldn’t break her heart and she was his perfectionist-easing equal?

There was no way I was letting Chris near her. If she knew I
was tutoring him, she’d let her guard down. She’d try to convince me again that
he was secretly one of the good guys. Then, he’d swoop in and start the
relationship chaos again.

I grabbed her hand. “Amy, promise me you won’t do anything
to screw things up with Luke over that loser.”

She looked down at our hands tight together, shaking a bit,
and gave mine a firm squeeze.

“I’m happy. Every day I’m so glad to be with Luke. But
beyond that, there is no one, not one person on this earth, who has ever just
been able to look at me and
know
the
way he does. The way I can with him. No matter how pretty Chris is to look at
strutting around in those board shorts, nothing in my power is ever splitting
me and Luke up.”

Why did I suddenly feel like crying? It was almost
frightening how sure she was.

“You’re not just talking right now, are you?”

Her gaze shifted to Luke as if she couldn’t stand to be this
far from him, as if she’d always know where he was even blindfolded.

“I don’t know. I learned when my mom died that things don’t
always end or end up the way you want them to. But, right now, I can’t imagine
a future without him. I know how stupid that sounds at seventeen. But, we’ll
see. You know? No stupid decisions, but no stupid mistakes either.”

“Wow.” I mean, what else could I say?

“Yeah.
I know. It scares the snot
out of me.” She looked back at me and the tension broke. Laughter rushed from
both of us like a balloon gashed open.

“Come on.” She leapt up and offered her hand. Tugging me to
my feet, she pulled me into a hug, a very un-Amy like hug. Before she let me
go, she whispered in my ear, “But don’t think you’re off the hook. When we’re
not surrounded by all these jocks and their groupies, you’re telling me what’s
up with you.”

Not if I could help it…and even if I couldn’t.

Chapter
7

I’d snuck into the house. Okay, maybe it wasn’t really
sneaking. I’d asked where the bathroom was and just walked in, but when you’re
not doing what you say you’re going to do, everything feels sneaky-like.

The truth was I needed a few minutes away from the beautiful
people and the flirting and the
carefreeness
—and yes,
even from Amy. I was tired—tired of working so hard to not let her or anyone
else I cared about down.

The inside of the Harrison house was warm, comfy, filled
with baking smells. As I passed through the kitchen, music pumped into the
house from the yard, something light and pleasant. Something that did
not
match my emotional state at all—even
with the in-my-head-happy-place-self-talk I was working.

Third door on the right, otherwise
know
as the bathroom, was closed and muffling the barely restrained giggles of at
least three cheer-type people. Not exactly the quiet place I was looking for.

Across the hall, a door stood ajar, the light from the
window tinted blue from the curtains half-closed over it.

I know I didn’t have a right to go in there, but the need
for escape was too strong. The bathroom door could open any second and swallow
me into the gigglers, never to be seen again.

Tragic, right?

There was no other choice. It was self-preservation. It was
my only hope.

It was nosiness.

This didn’t
smell
like a boy’s room. Of course, having only sisters, I wasn’t really sure what a
boy’s room
should
smell like. But
this one smelled clean, like laundry soap and fresh cut grass and vanilla
candles. I’m not sure I’d ever been in a more comfortable smelling place.

I edged into the room, taking in all the
boy-type-room-stuff. One entire wall was full of trophies. Of course, most of
them weren’t really displayed. They sat crookedly as if they were just set
there to be kept out of the way. The older ones were covered in a dust so thick
you could have written an entire novel on them.

Next to the trophy shelf was a photo board that put my
shoebox storage to shame. There was no way I was missing the chance for this
Ben-insight. Most of the pictures were of Ben and one of his older brothers or
Ben and his friend-since-birth Emma. There was a great one of him and Luke
obviously after a game, sweaty and laughing as Luke tossed a ball at him. A
couple I recognized as an ex-girlfriend. Some group pictures that made me feel
like I should take notes on my Quest
To
Find
The
Girl.

The whole room was done in shades of blue, the bed carefully
made for—I’m guessing—company.
Although, Ben could have been
the type of guy to make his bed every day.
I mean, he had a
photo board.

I sat on the edge of the bed and studied the overall
collection of guy-stuff. Even the bed was blue. Of course, there were like six
different shades of blue in the comforter and then there were the throw
pillows.

I was rethinking Ben’s whole not-gay thing. This room was
girlier
than me.

And, again, there was that smell.
That
comfortable smell.

I picked up one of his pillows and took a deep breath,
wishing this was the guy I could be crazy over.
Crazy
because of
even.
Any guy that
smelled this good would have to be nice.

“Is there something going on between you and my pillow I
should know about?”

Oh my God.
“Um,
well…”
Bluff, Rachel.
For
crying out loud.
Do not die of embarrassment.
“We’ve been seeing
each other off and on behind your back for a while now.”

Ben leaned against his doorframe, a smirk sculpting those
very nice lips.

See? There’s something wrong with me that I honestly didn’t
care how nice Ben’s lips were. And typically, he’d totally be my type.
Fun, flirty and not forever.
There was a level of Ben that
just seemed …I don’t want to say shallow, but he seemed to work very hard at
keeping things light.

“Would you guys mind if I join you?” he asked, pushing away
from the wall and letting the door fall half-shut behind him. “I mean, if
you’re low on your quality time…”

I swatted him with the pillow I’d just been inhaling like a
crack head. The poor guy had to dodge it to plop down on the bed next to me.

“I don’t know what your mom does, but this room smells
awesome.”

Ben reached behind me and grabbed another pillow. “My mom’s
huge on aromatherapy and that color-space thing.
Plus, the
photos and stuff.
I keep waiting to come home and find someone taking pictures
for a magazine or something.”

That explained a lot.

“So, is there a reason you’re hiding in my room?”

I leaned back on the mound of pillows, studying Ben with a
new appreciation. It was weird, but even people who didn’t know about the
therapy and the meds and the little meltdowns seemed to never hit me head on
like that.

“I’m not really
hiding
per se. It’s more like, exploring.”

“So, when given the opportunity to own up to hiding, you’d
rather admit to invading my privacy?” The smirk was back and now both eyebrows
were raised. He really was tough. I’ll bet he becomes a psychiatrist.

“Well, you know. Lots of people outside
I
don’t really know. A sport I don’t really follow.” I hugged the pillow to me.
“The best smelling room in the universe.
What’s a girl to
do?”

“This may be crossing a line, but you could give up my
pillow and just hang out with me.”

I glanced at him, a little overwhelmed at the offer. “I’ve
never…you know.”

“No.
You never what?”
Ben looked
really confused. Which was totally fair since that wasn’t my
clearest
moment.

“You know…me and a guy.”

He sat up.
Straight up.
Then he
stood up.

“Listen, Rachel.” He stepped away from the bed and ran a
hand through his hair. “I like you. I think you’re great. You’re fun and you’re
cool. I just…I’m not interested in you that way. Not that you’re not hot. I
mean, you are. It’s just…wow, I suck at this.”

I’d started laughing around the point he’d told me I was
hot.

“You thought I thought you were hitting on me.” I smiled,
hugging the pillow to me to keep from throwing it at him.

“You don’t?”

“No. I was trying to say, I’ve never had a guy who was a
friend before.” It sounded just as stupid out loud as I’d been afraid it would.
I could feel my cheeks getting hot wondering if he thought I was some type of
social misfit.

Ben lowered himself back onto the bed. “Oh. Okay. Great.”

I got it. I did. Ben wasn’t the type of guy to flit. And
he’d
wasn’t
going to lead a girl on or use her to make
himself feel better. “You really like this girl, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”
He half-
sighed
the word as if he was resigned to a fate worse than no soccer. “Not that it
matters.”

“It matters to you though.” I could tell by the way he
didn’t answer me that it really did. “So, you want to just, you know…hang out?”

He gave the pillow a tug, the open smile tipping his face
again. “Well, that might be fun. You could accuse me of being in love with the
entire soccer team.”

Rolling my eyes wasn’t enough for that comment. Realizing I
was armed, I swatted him in the face with the pillow.

“Or, maybe just the forwards.
I
mean, since I’m already in love with Luke, I could just add the forwards to
that.” He laughed as he said it, his hands already coming up to protect the
nose I was going to smash with a sack full
o’down
.

He toppled over as I swatted at him again, going down after
him.

I went in for the kill, smothering him and his laughter.
“You’re going to let this go soon, right? I’d hate for my mistake to become,
you know, an actual rumor.”

I lifted the pillow long enough for him to agree, but
instead he said, “All the girls in the school can’t be wrong.”

He was already laughing again as I squashed the pillow over
his head again. His hands came out of nowhere. One grabbed at my wrist while
the other tickled at my hip making me squirm. But, as in every good war, I was
only giving so much in retreat.

Jumping sideways, I tackled him, crushing that tickling-hand
under my knee while whapping at him again with the pillow.

I was going to win.

I loved winning.

I’m not really sure if there was a winning.

Yeah, I was going to win.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chris was across
the room and looming over the bed before I’d managed to stop trying to
fake-suffocate Ben. “Get your hands off her.”

I looked down at Ben, one hand pinned by my knee, the rest
of him quasi-trapped under me, with a pillow shoved down his throat. No weapon.
Not even
his own
pillow. His other hand wrapped around
my wrist more trying to get air than to free
himself
.

Chris’s ears were red. Not pink.
Red.

Pulling the pillow away, I glanced down at Ben. His eyes
were round and shocked and staring at Chris like he’d gone insane—which really,
that might be something we wanted to look into after this bit of melodrama.

I bit my lip.
Literally.
I could
feel those hysterical giggles fighting up my throat and I was too embarrassed
to let them call more attention to me.

I tried to shift away from Ben, but he was trying to shift
away in the same direction and we just ended up toppled the other way on his
bed, bumping heads in the process. And man, he was heavy.

And then there was the laughter again.
From
me.
Ben still looked shocked.

“Harrison? What is going on?” Chris did not seem to see the
humor.

Ben finally cracked a grin—an absurd one to match the
situation.

“Well, I’m trying to decide whether I should give it up to
Rachel or not.” Ben kept his face straight for all of three seconds before he
was laughing so hard he couldn’t seem to move, which I found really
inconvenient since
he
was sitting on
me
now.

He turned that gaze on me and killed any chance of me not
laughing when he winked.

“So, Rachel, what’s it going to be?
Me or
my awesome smelling pillow?”

It felt so good to just laugh. To not be doing it because I
should or hoping no one noticed anything weird while I had my guard down.
To just laugh.
And at something funny with someone who
totally got it.

The two of us were laughing so hard that Chris kind of faded
away for a second, until his voice broke through.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” The amount of
confusion and disbelief in that short string of words stopped Ben and me
gasping for laughter-breath.

I slid off the bed, slipping the flip-flops I’d somehow lost
back on, and headed for the door. Over my shoulder, I saw Ben slouched against
the wall still holding his sides and Chris looking at me like I was crazy. And
not for the normal reasons people looked at me like that.

“Make sure you pack a pillowcase for me before I leave. I
plan on sleeping well tonight.”

It was nice to get to be the one making an exit for once.