The Bad Boy's Secret (2 page)

Cassiopeia wasn’t used to being up so late, but when she called her parents to tell them who she ran into at school (she left out the part where he wasn’t actually in the school), they agreed to let her just take a cab home when she was ready. And she wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready, staring up in awe at Chuck as if Thor himself had come down from Mount Olympus to snatch her up.

She had been so worried about starting a new school, and meeting new friends. But at the same time, she was relieved. In the new school, no one seemed to know that she was Cassiopeia Winters, the figure skater who would have been on the Olympic Team next year if she had kept at it. Her partner, Scott had trained with her since before they could really walk, tiny tots clinging onto each other, and skidding across the ice. Waking up at 4:30am to get to the rink before school was as natural to her as the other kids dragging themselves out of bed at 8am, just before the school bus came.

And Chuck, whose father worked under her father at the factory, was always there to walk her to the rink and then to school, making what he felt like was more money than his parents ever had. It was a mutual beneficial relationship for all parties. Chuck earned the allowance his parents could never afford to give him, and with Cassiopeia under his responsibility, he actually made it to the huge K-12 school that they both attended almost every day. Staying at school, of course, was a different manner, but at least he was always in homeroom. 

It meant her parents didn’t have to wake up earlier than needed for their high powered jobs, and she always got in the ice time that won her competitions and awards throughout the country.

When Chuck moved, 3 years ago, they lost contact. Cassie missed him on the early morning walks that she was now old enough to make herself. 

When Scott died, however, she never put on a pair of ice skates again. They moved, her father transferring to the same mid-west office, and Cassie, in her grief, had forgotten that it was Chuck’s last known address. Until, at least, she saw him, standing across the parking lot, that familiar grin still on his face and his arms wide open.

Despite being a tough gangster in training, running with the wrong crowd and being thrown into juvie twice, he had always made sure Cassie was safe, to and from the rink, and never involved her in the type of trouble he was in.

He had followed her career
with what he claimed was nothing special. But every time an article popped up about her, he saved it.

And when Scott died, he tried to reach out to her last known address. But she was already gone and the old number didn’t work. He had no idea where she had gone, until she turned up here.

“Are you sure I’m not intruding?” she said, as the Criter boys let her in the door, Chuck hot on her heels. “If you had a nice dinner planned with friends…”

“Don’t be dumb, Sas, you ain’t bothering no one,” Chuck closed the door behind her, kicking of his shoes as if he owned the place. Without thinking, he took her coat and hung it up on the hook, like he used to do when she was barely a child. It made her smirk, as they followed the boys into the living room.

“So you’re from New York,” Shawn said, reaching in the fridge to offer her a cold beer. When she shook her head, he swapped it for a glass of water. Chuck popped a beer all on his own, leaving the cap in the sink. “Like Chuck. How do you find it around here? Boring as hell, right?”

“It’s kind of quiet,” she replied, taking a sip. “And I like it that way.”

“See what you say in a week,” Shawn teased, leading her to the sofa. But before she left the kitchen, she turned to Richard.

“Can I help with something? I feel bad, just barging in here like this.”

“Nah, get out,” Richard said, kindly. “We ain’t real formal around here.  Enjoy your time here.”

“Thanks,” she followed the boys into the living room, where they flopped in various states of relax. She tucked her leg under her, and positioned herself on the couch, as close to Chuck as she could, stretching her other leg out in front of her. “Gash, muscle cramps. It’s what happens when you don’t work out anymore.”

“You lift?” Shawn gave her scrawny arms a look.

“Sas is a skater,” Chuck said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Real good one at that. Almost went to the Olympics.”

“So what happened?”

Cassiopeia looked away, not wanting to answer the question. These days, she felt like if she pretended it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be real.

“Do you lift?” she asked Shawn, to change the topic and he flexed.

“Probably more than you weigh.”

“I’ve put on so much weight since I stopped skating,” she said, pulling a pillow over her stomach. “Haven’t I, Chuck?”

“Um, no?” Chuck gave her a funny look. “You’re still as skinny as a rail, kid.” He pinched her arm, which yielded almost no fat. “Skinnier, maybe.”

“Huh,” she muttered, shaking her head. She pulled the pillow closer to her stomach, and looked to Peter, who was spread out on the floor, reading. “Is that for class?”

“Kind of,” he looked up. “It’s optional, but I think it’s good.”

“Peter’s a wannabe upper classer,” Shawn laughed, and the boys swatted at each other.

“The class thing is really big here, eh?” Cassie said to Chuck, who was yanking playfully at her hair. There was no romance between them, that much was clear. But there was some sort of unspoken friendship, a bond that not many could share.

“Yeah. And I don’t want you hanging around in public with any of us scum, you hear me? You stay straight and you’ll be fine.”

“Chuck!” she looked at him, horrified. “What are you talking about?”

“Around here, it’s fine. But not anywhere where you can be seen.”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” she teased him and he gave her hair a yank.

“No,” he replied. “But you should be embarrassed to be seen with us. The boys, they are good boys, Sas, but their reputation is not what you want. Just by being around them, you invite all kinds of scum types. They’ll think that you are something you’re not. Trust me on this.”

“Mmm,” she didn’t want to commit to answering because the answer felt wrong. If they were good enough for Chuck, they would good enough for her. But she let the topic drop as they were called for dinner.

“So did you leave a boyfriend behind in New York?” Steve asked, once they sat at the table. Chuck launched a fry at him.

“No, she didn’t, Trash, and if you try to change that, I’ll make sure you wish you’d never been born.”

“Aye-yi-yi,” Cassie put in. “Are we always this rough around the table?”

“This is tame,” Richard replied, taking a mouthful of chicken and ducking another fry torpedo. “You should see it some nights.”

She watched the laughter and the teasing happening in front of her, a smile on her face.

“I think I’d like to,” she replied and Richard chuckled.

“Well, you’re welcome to, any time. You’ll be the first of Chuck’s friends who doesn’t throw fries.”

“I can,” she replied, cutting up her food into tiny pieces, each move seeming thought out. “But I’ll save that for when you least expect it.”

Richard laughed, shaking his head, and ducking another fry. She seemed like a good kid, a little timid, and fragile, but then, perhaps he would be to if he had a career end at 15, and his life change forever. The death of their parents did a number on the boys that would never be forgotten.

Throughout dinner though, she grew quieter, and she didn’t touch most of her plate. When he cleared it, he questioned her about it.

“Oh, it was really good,” she replied. “Thank you so much. It’s just that I ate before I left school. Habit. Usually I go to the rink right after, so that’s when I …eat.”

“Will you be skating here?” he asked. “We don’t got much, but there’s a rink down at the Y that anybody could use.”

“No,” she answered, a bit too quickly. “No, I won’t be skating here. Or anywhere, actually. That’s all over now.”

She looked so bothered that Richard wondered if he had said something wrong. Luckily, he was saved by Chuck, standing and heading for the front door.

“Come on, kid, it’s past your bedtime,” he said, and she gratefully rose.

“Thank you so much, for dinner.”

“My pleasure little darling. Come back soon.”

“Yeah, come back anytime!” Shawn hollered, already in the living room to play video games with Steve. “Chuck, you are coming back, right?”

“Be right back,” Chuck called. “I ain’t missing that party for the whole world.”

Once outside, on the front porch, with only the sound of crickets and dogs barking, he turned to her.

“What happened?”

“Hmm?” she asked, doing up her own jacket.

“You heard me. Nothing’s changed that much that I didn’t see the look on your face when Richard asked you about skating. It was your whole world. So what happened?”

“Scott died, Chuck,” she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets as they waited for the cab that Richard called from inside. “You know that.”

“I know that,” he replied. “But I ain’t stupid, kid. The press wouldn’t  say nothing more than he died, on the ice, and then all of a sudden, you were gone. Just disappeared, like a ghost. So what am I supposed to think, exactly, because something smells fishy.”

She took a deep breath, hoping to keep the tears from falling, but it didn’t help. Within minutes, they were streaming down her face, hot against the cold wind, and she was gasping for air, paralyzed by her own grief and the moment playing in her mind, over and over again.

Chuck grabbed her, alarmed. Cassie was strong, getting up after every fall on the ice. She had skated through a broken toe and a broken wrist, and a concussion, throwing up backstage after. She never gave up for the final leap, never stayed in bed when she should be on the rink. He had never met such a stronger, more determined spirit, especially not in such a tiny body.

He held her tight, squeezing warmth into her shuddering body and trying to think of the right words to say.

“Baby, Baby, I’m sorry. What did I say? I’m sorry. Don’t cry, kid. Geez, don’t cry.”

She couldn’t even talk, so deep was her grief and her fear, and he didn’t push it. Whatever had happened, she wasn’t ready to tell him. And although he was burning with curiosity, he wasn’t going to bring it up until she was ready. Cassie was his kid, a responsibility in a world that told him he could do no good, a second childhood when his own was gone so quickly. With only an older brother who he hadn’t seen in months, Chuck had raised himself, and tried his best to make up for her ever—absent parents.

By the time the cab came, she had managed to calm down enough to head towards it.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, as she wiped her eyes, trying to speak without breaking down.

“No, it’s ok. You have a thing to go to.”

“It’s just a party, Sas, I can go anytime.”

“Don’t worry about it,” her voice sounded more steady now, the strong Cassie that he knew re-emerging. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” And then she smiled. “That sounds so awesome.”

He grinned.

“It’ll actually be after school, Sas. By the time the bell goes, I’ll probably still be drunk from tonight.”

“Ok,” she rolled her eyes. “See you tomorrow, Chuck.”

“Bye,” he closed the door and waited until the cab was on the street before heading back into the house. As soon as he was in, Steve called to him.

“That is one fine broad you got, Chuck!”

“She ain’t mine, and she ain’t no broad,” Chuck snapped at him, heading into the living room. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

“No, she looks like an upper classer, don’t she?” Shawn turned around from the video game he was losing anyways. “We could use someone like her?”

“What are you babbling about?” Chuck sank into the couch.

“I’m just saying. She looks like one, she talks like one, but she clearly loves the shit out of you. Why not let her be a spy? No one will know. Let her hang around them, and come back and feed us everything. Where they are going, what they are doing.  I’m sure it’ll put us ahead in at least three rumbles, maybe more.”

Chuck sighed, accepting the second beer Richard brought him.

“I dunno, man. She’s been through some shit. I don’t want to put any pressure on her.”

“We’ve all been through some shit,” Peter put in and Chuck couldn’t disagree with that.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her about it. I don’t want her seen with trash like you anyways.”

“I’ll show you trash,” Steve reached around to charlie horse him and Chuck yelped, kicking him. “Let’s go, I want to cause some trouble before we hit that party.”

“Yeah, why not,” Chuck pushed himself onto his feet again, and Shawn got up as well. Peter made a move and Richard raised an eyebrow.

“Where do you think you’re going kid? Sit yourself down. Kevin’s place ain’t somewhere you’ll be tonight.”

“Ah, but Richard…”

“Hey, listen to the old man,” Chuck said, in a move very much unlike him. Normally, he was encouraging Peter to join in the mischief. Richard appreciated the gesture, and gave Chuck a nod. “You coming, old man?”