Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me during the writing journey, especially to all the enthusiastic readers and Facebook followers.
To Nina, for your loyalty.
To Ashley, for all the times, tears, and purple skittles.
Secrets to Keep
Tracie Puckett
Published by Tracie Puckett at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Tracie Puckett
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Prologue
Saturday December 24
I should have been freezing.
Christmas was on the horizon; only four hours away to be exact, and the temperature had hit fifteen degrees with a negative wind chill. The snow had picked up, adding to the three inches that had accumulated earlier in the day. Icicles were frozen in place. The smoke from the chimney disappeared into the dark, winter sky.
I stood there, wearing nothing more than a knee-high cocktail dress, toeless heels, and a brown leather jacket draped over my shoulders.
Again, I should have been freezing. Only moments ago I'd convinced myself that I was on the verge of frostbite. But something changed. I'd forgotten the cold. Everything around me, including the bitter weather, had ceased to exist.
My blood was hot and running feverishly through every inch of my body. I wanted Alexander Rivera...
I wanted him like I'd never wanted anything in my life— to love, to have, to hold... Though, my better judgment wouldn't allow us to exceed the one something to look forward to kiss. In this situation, one intimate moment was one too many...
“Let's get you back inside,” he said, gently pressing our lips together once again.
Two too many...
“You go ahead,” I whispered, taking a deep breath and trying to compose myself.
“Are you—?”
“Fine,” I assured him. “Perfect, actually. I just need a moment.”
“Take your time.” He brushed a strand of hair away and lightly pecked my cheek before disappearing through the back door.
I stood on the small wooden deck, looking out into the dark winter night. I pulled the leather jacket tighter and closed my eyes, evaluating the consequences of our actions. I'm eighteen, so the legality of our eight year age difference wasn't the problem. There was just the one tiny issue of... well, the fact that he's my high school English teacher.
“Steph,” I heard a familiar voice approaching from the side. “Merry Christmas.”
“Nate,” I said, with wide eyes, watching him trek through the snow covered yard with a large camera dangling from his neck. “Merry Christmas to you too--”
“Oh, and happy birthday.” He took a step onto the raised porch.
Nathaniel Bryan had been one of my first friends when I moved to Webster Grove. We'd sat through countless lunches together, worked side-by-side during the fall production of Romeo and Juliet, and exchanged more than a couple of encouraging words to each other over the past months. Most notably though, he was one of the few people I felt I could truly trust.
“Hope you don't mind the intrusion.” He put his arm around me to exchange a hug. “I stepped out to take some shots of the snow and saw you over here.”
“Pictures in the dark?”
“The best camera on the market,” he smiled, patting the equipment around his neck. “What brings you to Mr. Rivera's on this cold Christmas Eve?”
“Family thing.”
“You're gonna stick to that?”
“Huh?”
“The family excuse,” he said.
Why do I trust Nate? Mainly because he'd stumbled upon a piece of information two weeks ago that had the potential to destroy my social life... and worse, Alex's teaching career. Nate's been privy to, and chosen to ignore, the undeniable chemistry between his friend and his teacher. As Mr. Rivera's neighbor, Nate sees those who come and go. Unfortunately, he'd seen me go early one morning, dressed to kill in nothing more than a pair of college pajamas, owned by Alex himself.
“His brother is engaged to my mom—”
“So I've been told,” he said, quieting his tone and dropping his head to look at the ground. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He ran his fingers through his rusty-colored hair. “Is it worth it?”
“I hope so,” I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I think I love him, Nate.”
He put his arm around me and held on tight. “If you love him now, you'll still love him after graduation, Steph.”
“But waiting--”
“Is the smartest thing you could do.”
I nodded.
This person, the wise and insightful Nathaniel Bryan, was a different version of a boy I'd met only months ago. Usually, his approach toward life was disrespectful, lackluster, and careless. Something about him had changed.
“Now, can I ask you a question?' He nodded. “What happened before homecoming?”
“Meaning?”
“You've known Bridget your whole life,” I started. “You owed her an explanation—”
“Don't pin this on me, Steph,” he spat, his face turning red. I couldn't tell if the color change was sparked by anger or cold. “Rachel asked me to the dance.”
“Still,” I said. “You broke her heart, Nate.”
“I know,” he rubbed his head, probably regretful of his actions.
“Steph,” Alex stepped out the back door. “Oh, Nathaniel,” he managed to say, obviously trying to interpret the intimate distance between his two students. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. R. Listen, I wasn't moving in on your lady,” Nate pulled his arm from around my shoulder. He turned to me and smiled. “Just came over to say hi. I'll head home now.”
I waved to Nate as he jumped to the snow-covered ground. I looked at Alex. “Did you need something, sir?”
He moved closer, placing his hand on the small of my back. “I like you too much to watch you freeze to death, Miss Ghijk.”
Saturday December 31
“I have something to tell you,” I said, taking in a deep breath.
Bridget sat up on my bed. Her flaming red curls bounced from her head as she leaned forward to flash her bright, blue, wide eyes.
“Are you dying?”
“No,” I promised. “Just something you'll need to know before the party guests show up.”
I'd never celebrated the holidays. However, a move to Webster Grove introduced me to many unexpected changes. Suddenly birthdays were a big deal and presents were waiting for unwrapping on December 25th. Strange things were happening in the Ghijk household, and I was thankful for each and every change. Catching Cal in a Santa suit at midnight on Christmas morning was, to say the least, the highlight of my holiday season. Minus, of course, the few tender moments of passion I'd shared with his younger brother at this time last week...
But now, it was the final day of December and I had talked mom into letting me throw a New Year’s party. The suggestion barely left my lips before she claimed the idea as her own. I'd invited Bridget, Nate, and Isaac. God knows I wanted to invite Alex, but how would that look? Luckily, he made mom's list of invites, along with Cal (of course), Blake, Adriana, Emilio, and some of Calvin's favorite employees from the restaurant.
“Okay,” I whispered. “About the party...”
“Nate's bringing Rachel isn't he?”
“Possibly,” I said, knowing that Rachel would be the least of her concerns once I continued.
“Figures,” she rolled her eyes and threw herself back on the bed.
“Here goes,” I prepped myself for the revelation with a deep breath and a temple massage. “Cal's family is coming—”
“Okay, so?”
“Most importantly, his sibling.”
“A younger brother?” she asked, enticed. “Cus Cal is kinda hot—”
“Two younger brothers. But... they're off limits, Bridge.”
“Then why are you telling me this?”
“Well,” I started. “One of them… Blake, is a little creepy and a bit of a womanizer.”
“And the other?”
“Teaches... your first period English class.”
“Shut up!” She sat up and threw a pillow at me. “Mr. Rivera is Calvin's brother? I knew it! Two people can't look that much alike and not be related! When did you find out? What's he like outside of class? Do you call him by his first name? What does he look like in jeans? Does he have a tight butt? Of course he does. It’s Mr. Rivera! Does he talk to you when you see him? Why am I just finding out?”
“Deep breath, Bridge,” I plopped down next to her on the bed. “I've known for a while.”
“Then--”
“I didn't say anything because it would make things awkward at school. I don't really want people knowing--”
“Wow,” she said, still in disbelief. “He's coming here? Tonight?”
I nodded. “Isaac too,” I tried to move past her questions. “Isn't that exciting?”
She fanned herself. “This house is gonna be full of all kinds of delicious—”
“Bridge—”
“Calvin, Mr. Rivera, Nate, Isaac... no doubt, the other brother is pretty hot too, huh?”
“Eh,” I managed, thinking back to the few moments I'd spent with the youngest of the Rivera men. He was, like his brothers, very easy to look at. Unlike Calvin and Alex, he had the personality of a slime ball. “I'd just stick to Isaac if I were you,” I said.
Bridget wouldn't have a hard time sticking to Isaac. Since the day he walked into Webster Grove High School, sporting a bleach white smile, neatly trimmed golden locks, and a perfectly fit physique, she (and every other girl in class) has been captivated. Well, everyone except for me.
While Alex and Nate rarely see eye-to-eye on anything, they are in complete agreement about Isaac Peyton; he's up to something and he can't be trusted. Alex's distrust stems from an eight-word note left on his door: break her heart and I break your neck. I'm unsure as to whether or not there's any validity to the threat. Alex, however, is convinced that Isaac has ulterior motives. Still, Bridget likes him and I trust him wholeheartedly. After all, he'd known about my secret crush and never told a soul.
The bell rang downstairs and Bridget's eyes widened. “I wonder which of our lucky bachelors—”
“Bridge—”
“I called dibs on Isaac,” she reminded me.
“Baby!” Mom yelled from the first floor.
“Coming!”
We shot out of the room and down the stairs, anxious to see who had arrived first. We reached the last step to find the door wide open and Nate standing awkwardly on the porch. His face was puzzled as he drummed his fingers across a wrapped gift box.
“Your mom just... opened the door and walked away. I didn't know if I should—”
“Come in,” I said, taking his coat as he crossed the threshold. “No Rachel?”
“Nah, we kinda broke up--”
“What?” Bridget said, sarcastically. “So it wasn't written in the stars after all?”
“Bridge,” I scolded.
“It's okay,” he shook his head. “I deserved that.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tried to ease the tension. “Cal is in the kitchen making a ton of delicious snacks for the night. Feel free to dig in. He'll be offended if you don't.”
“Awesome.” Nate headed toward the smell of food. “Oh,” he turned back and handed me the wrapped gift. “Happy belated birthday.”
I smiled and started to open it. “Thanks—”
“Not now,” he ordered. “Later.”
“Okay,” I whined, setting it aside on a small table.
“Steph,” his eyes widened. “Just take it to your room until you have some time to yourself.”
The doorbell rang again as I turned up the steps. “Bridge can you—”
“Got it,” she said, opening the door and shrieking. “Mr. Rivera!”
I was already halfway down the second floor hall and unable to turn back in time to save him from the game of twenty questions she was about to start. I tossed the present on the bed and ran down the hallway, but not without stopping in the bathroom to check the mirror. I'd let my brunette hair down, natural curls falling across my shoulders. I pulled the glasses away and set them aside, knowing I could survive one night without perfect vision. I ruled myself acceptable and headed toward the stairs.
“Oh my God!” Bridget clapped as I reached the foyer. “He's here! He's in your house!”
“Calm down,” I said, hoping my heart would take the same advice. “Where did he—”
“Kitchen, with Cal and Caroline. Nate's already in there stuffing his face—”
“Figures,” I laughed, sharing a smile with my best friend.
“Did you open Nate's present?” she asked, as we moved into the living room.
“No. It's probably just some gag—”
“I doubt it,” she said, flopping down to the couch. “He's always been a great gift giver.”
Another half hour passed and the house was finally full. There were more than a handful of Calvin's employees and close friends making their way through each room, mingling and introducing themselves to anyone they didn't know. Blake Rivera had made his grand entrance only moments after his brother, followed shortly by their grandfather Emilio. Adriana, I was told, couldn't make it. Nate and Bridget had seemingly reconciled. They acted as though their 'friendship separation' had never happened. Mom and Calvin were still preoccupied in the kitchen and Alex was dodging my stares. Our neighbor, Isaac Peyton, was the only no-show.
The night ticked on and I'd only seen Alexander for a few moments, each time with a considerable amount of distance between us. We hadn't even gotten close enough to say hello.
With everyone else preoccupied with the party festivities, I quietly walked up the steps and into my bedroom. I lifted the present from the bed and unwrapped the paper. Inside the box, was an 8x10 wooden picture frame, painted lavender to match my walls.
“How sweet,” I said, turning it over to look at the photograph behind the glass. There, before my eyes, was the most magical moment of my life caught on film.
“I told you it was the best camera on the market,” Nate said, walking into the room.
“Nate—”
“I wasn't spying,” he put his hands in the air. “I was simply taking pictures on my own back porch-”
“Why?”
“I'm a photographer—”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
He shrugged. “Bridget always said that her favorite gifts were the ones from the heart. I thought you'd like a memento of your first kiss with—”
“Thank you,” I muttered, wiping a tear as I stared at the picture. “How can you be so understanding? You're supposed to freak out and tell me how wrong I am—”
“As your friend, I have to trust that you know what's best for you.” I sat the frame aside and stood up, pulling him into a hug “Listen,” he backed away. “The ball drops in a few minutes. Everyone is gathered around the television. If you want a moment alone with him, now's your chance.”
I smiled. “Thanks, but I think he's been avoiding me—”
“He's trying to keep things low key,” he said. “Trust me. Go find him.”
We walked out together, but not before I took the time to hide the gift under my pillow. Nate turned off into the living room and I went the opposite direction, heading for the kitchen. As I suspected, Alex was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed and staring out the window.
“Thought I'd find you in here,” I said, grabbing his attention.
“Steph,” he smirked. “You're going to miss the ball drop—”
“Avoiding me?” I jumped up and sat on the counter next to him.
“Yes,” he admitted, biting his lip.
“Okay,” I nodded and hopped back down to the floor. “I'll go join the party and leave you to your thoughts—”
“Not so fast, Miss Ghijk,” he said, grabbing my waist and pulling me close.
The crowd in the living room started a countdown at an incredibly obnoxious volume. I stood staring into Alex's dark brown eyes and brushed my nose against his.
“Five,” he whispered, adding to the sound coming from the other side of the house. “Four, three, two, one.”
Once again, I found myself lost in a passionate embrace with the man of my dreams.
Nate was right. Waiting was the smartest thing to do... but it definitely wouldn't be easy.
Chapter One
Saturday February 11
“My fingers are freaking freezing!” Bridget yelled, as we jumped into the backseat of the car.
“I told you to bring gloves—”
“Can we please get through one day without an I-told-you-so?” She rubbed her hands together. “I swear, if she makes me leave this car one more time—”
“I hate to bust your bubble,” I interrupted her. “But we still have one stop to make. Dinner, remember?”
Bridget and I had spent the last six hours following mom all around the city, hopping from wedding boutiques to small-scale gown outlets, and even hitting a few of the big chains. The cool part of being the daughter of a friendless mother is that I get to play Maid of Honor opposite of Calvin's Best Man— Alexander Rivera, himself. Bridget was getting in on the action by carrying out the role of an additional bridesmaid. Thus, we were stuck helping Bridezilla plan everything from location to centerpieces.
The trip wouldn't have been so bad had mom done the proper research. She had no idea what style she was looking for, the amount she wanted to spend, or if she was going to wear white at all. Bridget coaxed her into making the final decision; a long, traditional gown with lace sleeves and a respectable neckline. I doubt Bridge even liked the dress. After six hours of hopping in and out of the freezing cold weather she was ready to get the day over with. And so was I.
“Okay girls,” Mom said, getting into the driver's seat. “Who's hungry?”
“Me!” Bridget exclaimed, dramatically.
After another twenty minutes on the road we finally reached the edge of Webster Grove and mom turned off into the parking lot of Calvin's upscale restaurant; Calvera's.
“Are we late?” I asked.
“Only fashionably,” mom assured me, checking her watch.
We hopped out of the car and rushed through the front doors of the building. The hostess greeted my mother by name and instructed us to follow her.
“Hey,” Calvin said, long and drawn out, as he stood from a table in the far corner. “I went ahead and placed the food order. What took you guys so long?”
“She was a bit indecisive today, Cal,” I said, taking the empty seat next to an incredibly gorgeous man… a tall, dark, and handsome Cuban-American who answers to the name Alex.
“Ballsy move,” he whispered as mom joined Calvin and Bridget settled in next to the third Rivera brother, Blake.
“Would you rather sit by Bridget?” I asked, barely moving my lips and picking up the glass of water in front of me.
This routine had become all too familiar to the six of us. This was the fifth Saturday in a row that we have met to discuss mom's weekly wedding updates. She felt it was only necessary to keep everyone who would be involved in the ceremony up to date on the latest changes and progressions.
“We finally decided on a color,” mom started.
“We did?” I asked, wondering if she had a brain lapse.
Bridget looked puzzled. “You shot down every suggestion--”
“Where did you land?” Cal interrupted, probably trying to spare the group from reliving the color scheme argument we had last week.
“Either baby blue, light yellow, or olive green.”
“So what you meant to say is that you finally narrowed down the list?” I inquired, taking a drink of water.
“Right,” Mom nodded.
“Oh boy,” Blake interjected, rubbing his head.
While everyone else around the table found these weekly meetings unnecessary, I considered them the best filled time slot of the week. Not only did I get to sit in the same room with a cool, calm, casual version of my sexy English teacher, I also got the occasional honor of sitting next to him and catching a whiff of his breathtaking scent.
“Are you still set on roses?” I asked the bride and groom.
“I'd prefer something a little less extravagant, to be honest,” Cal gave his worthless two cents.
“What's wrong with—”
“Why not go for a simplistic white daisy?” I interrupted mom. “Daisies are gorgeous, inexpensive, and the perfect flower for a spring ceremony. Plus, it would solve the color scheme problem and leave you with a nice, light yellow.”
“We're not planning your wedding, Baby,” she snapped. “Roses. The end.”
Alex's hand found mine under the table. He entwined our fingers and sent me a hang in there look. Yet another reason why I loved these weekly wedding meetings... just being able to touch him, if only for a second.
“So, Steph,” Blake leaned forward to meet my gaze. “How's the boyfriend sitch?”
“Well, Blake,” I said, hoping to avoid saying much else. “It's not looking good for you, hon.”
“Still hot and heavy?”
I was surprised that it took Blake this long to ask for updates on my relationship status. He'd inquired about me at Christmas and Alex told a tiny white lie to keep him off my back. Little did he know, it only pushed his brother to try harder.
“Who are you talking about?” Bridget chimed in.
“Yeah, who?” Mom was interested.
“Uh-oh,” Blake mumbled. “Did I spoil a secret?”
“No secret,” I managed to say, feeling my hand tremble in Alex's. “I'm just trying to keep things—”
“Maybe you should tell them the truth, Steph,” Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. “They're going to find out eventually. You might as well get it over with.”
My heart began to race. I couldn't believe he was so nonchalant. “Are you serious?”
“It's Nate,” he said, matter-of-factly. “There. It's in the open now.”
“What?” Bridget asked, widening her bright, blue eyes. “Steph, are you really dating Nathaniel?”
I shot a look of hatred at Alex and discreetly pulled my hand from his. “I'm not—”
“I'm so happy for you guys!” she said, smiling. “Why didn't you tell me?”
Everyone at the table sat staring with open mouths. “I just thought you'd be mad.”
“Steph, you're my two best friends! I think this is wonderful news!”
The truth is, even if I were dating Nate, Bridget probably wouldn't care. She's been so wrapped up in Isaac lately that she's forgotten the rest of the world exists. They'd been on two official dates since she met his father in December and they're seemingly attached to the hip every day at school. There's a lot of underlying irony in this situation; Nate flaked out on Bridget to take Rachel to the dance. Rachel then dumped Nate to ask Isaac out. Isaac nearly laughed in her face at the idea and reminded every girl in school that he only had eyes for Bridge.
“Seriously, the boy with all the hair?” Mom asked, obviously disgusted.
“You can't help who you fall in love with, Caroline,” Alex said, retaking my hand under the table.
“Love?” I turned to meet his gaze.
“Love.”
“Back to the wedding,” Cal said, snapping his fingers. He glared at us with a look in his eyes that could only mean one thing; he knew more than he should…
My phone rang and interrupted the conversation. I pulled it out and checked the screen. Nate.
“No cell phones during the meeting Baby,” Mom scolded.
“Sorry.” I pushed a button to ignore the call.
“Where did we land on the flowers—”
Calvin was interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing again.
“I need to take this,” I said, excusing myself.
I walked away from the group as I answered. “Hello?”
“What the eff is going on, Steph?” Nate yelled from the other end.
“What are you—”
“I just got a text from Bridget congratulating me on finding the girl of my dreams and wishing us nothing but a happy future together—”
“I can explain--”
“Whatever you did, fix it,” he yelled before hanging up.
Sometimes I want to kill Bridget...
I started to walk back to the table when I felt someone gently grab my wrist. I turned to see Isaac Peyton and his father, Nick.
“Isaac,” I said. “What a surprise. I was just thinking about you—”
“Were you?” He smirked and ran his fingers through his golden blonde hair.
“Well, Bridget and I were—”
“Is she here?” he asked, trying to hide his blushing cheeks.
“Yep. Do you want to say hi?”
He nodded as I showed them to the table. “Steph, you remember my dad Nick?”
“Yeah,” I looked back and smiled, trying to forget the few awkward moments I'd spent in his father's presence.
I'm sure Nick meant well, but I always felt like he was a little backward. Our first meeting could have gone better; I tried to make a friendly Thanksgiving gesture while he stared at me with a piercing glare and a creepy grin. Since, I've not been too keen on the idea of being alone with him.
He pushed the shaggy brunette hair from his forehead and adjusted his glasses. “It's always a pleasure to see you, Steph.”
“Likewise,” I lied. We reached the table. “Hey guys, look who I bumped into.”
“Isaac!” Bridget jumped from her seat and threw her arms around his neck.
“Hi,” he smiled and pecked her cheek. “Dad, you remember my girlfriend Bridget?”
Girlfriend? I had no idea they had an official title...
“Oh, dad,” Isaac continued. “This is our English teacher, Mr. Rivera.”
Alex turned and stood up to shake Nick's hand. The two men glared, each keeping a firm grasp and holding a stare that left everyone feeling uncomfortable. No words were exchanged, but there was a clear message being sent. Neither of them liked the other.
“Caroline,” Bridget called across the table. “Have you met—”
“Mom,” I snapped, trying to pull her attention away from her compact mirror. “Bridget wants to introduce you to her boyfriend.”
Mom's eyes met Isaac’s and then shot to Nick. The three of them stared at each other expressionless.
“We were just heading out,” Nick said, turning to his son. “Ready?”
“Yeah, see you guys Monday,” Isaac nodded before walking away to catch up with his father.
Awkward...
Saturday February 11, 9:30PM
I pulled the coat tighter to my body as I walked up the front steps and rang the bell. The door swung open and I stood smiling at the most gorgeous man on planet Earth. He was dressed in sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt; and no matter how casual or laid back, he could never be anything short of perfect.
“Steph,” he said. “What are you—”
“I'm freezing—”
“Come in,” he pulled me in and closed the door behind me. “Is everything okay?”
“I couldn't sleep.”
“It's only 9:30 on a Saturday night. Most kids your age still have hours ahead of them—”
“I couldn't quit thinking about something you said at the restaurant.”
“About?”
“Not being able to help who you fall in love with.” I took a deep breath. “Did I read too much into that?”
He shook his head and moved toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I'm not thirsty. I just wanted to ask you—”
“A snack?”
“Not hungry either. Will you please—”
“Does your mom know where you are?” he asked, turning back.
“She's staying over at Calvin's tonight,” I said. “Will you stop for a minute and—”
“Steph,” he interrupted me again. “I can't tell you what you want to hear, okay?”
“...Did you change your mind?”
He wore his trademark smirk and held back a laugh. “No.”
“Then?”
“Ugh, Steph,” he started. “It's hard for me to watch you come into my classroom every day and sit down with the rest of the students and pretend you're just another person.”
“But I am—”
“And to see you walk down the hall with Isaac and Nate, laughing about God only knows what—”
“They're my friends—”
“And not being able to dress up, pick you up, and take you out on a proper date.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair and stared at me. “It's not easy.”
“I agree. But your job is at stake and you yourself said you wanted to wait—”
“Because it's the smart—”
“And legal—”
“And legal thing to do...”
We stared at each other from across the room for a few long moments, both understanding the consequences of whatever was going on between us.
“I guess I'll go,” I said, moving back toward the door.
“Goodnight Steph.”
“Yeah. Night”
Chapter Two
Tuesday February 14
“Hey beautiful.” He rested his chin on my shoulder as I shoved a book into the locker. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Good morning, Nate,” I said, gently pushing him back. “Where were you yesterday?”
“Lazy day—”
“Nice.”
I hadn't had the chance to talk to Nate since his phone call Saturday night at Calvera's. Sunday he wouldn't answer my thousand attempts to reach him and yesterday he never showed up for class. In many ways he was the perfect (fake) boyfriend… unreliable in every sense of the word.
“I've been trying to—”
“Listen,” he said. “I kinda got the full story from Bridget about your dinner on Saturday. I apologize for blowing up on you. I sorta felt a little—”
“Bombarded?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry,” I said, honestly. “I didn't know what to do.”
“It's cool.” He put his arm around me. “I guess I just have to pretend I'm dating the hottest chick in school. It won't be easy, but I'm up to the task.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled as we turned and walked into Mr. Rivera's class.
“Mr. Bryan,” our teacher snapped. “I'll remind you one time and one time only that PDA is strictly against school policies.”
“Mr. Rivera,” Nate said slowly with a coy smile. “Would you like me to remind you of some of the strict school policies?” The two stared at one another for a few long moments before Nate turned to take his seat. “That's what I thought.”
The rest of the class filed in seconds later. Bridget and Isaac walked in, hand-in-hand and whispering sweet nothings. I watched as Alex considered reprimanding the second couple for public display of affection. Probably to save himself from another snarky comment, this time from Isaac, he chose to ignore their closeness and lowered his head.
As the days passed, I was increasingly impressed with the change in Bridget's demeanor. A few months ago, she'd gone from lovesick puppy to heartbroken drama queen. Weeks later she met Isaac and bounced back to her normal, chipper self. It was remarkable to see how quickly she'd taken to him. Her new love affair is great, don't get me wrong. But having Nate in our circle again is the true silver lining. I'd missed him too much.
Once the chairs were full, our teacher stood from his desk with a cardboard box and held it up. “Cupid candy grams.”
“Cupid candy what-now?” I asked.
“It's a Valentines fundraiser the juniors do each year to raise money for prom,” Bridget said.
“The students can buy them anywhere— cafeteria, hallway, gym class. They're a dollar a piece and you get to write a little message on the back of a card,” Nate continued. “You drop them off with the person's first period teacher and then they're handed out on the 14th.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, disappointed that I'd lost an opportunity to send a cute, candy-filled message to all of my friends.
“Okay,” Mr. Rivera dropped a box on an empty desk in the front row. “Let's get through this as quickly as possible. If you hear your name come pick up your grams.” He read the names as he picked up each decorated bag. “Mr. Bryan, Miss Canter, Miss Wright, Mr. Hughes, Miss Diaz, Mr. Coleman, and Miss Smith.” He set the box aside as the seven students jumped from their seats to claim a handful of friend-sent gifts.
Admittedly, I was more than a little stunned that he hadn't called my name. While I know I'm not the most popular girl in school, I had a hard time believing that Bridget, Nate, and Isaac neglected to remember me when they sent out their wishes.
“Ghijk,” Isaac whispered behind me. “I guess we're both losers.”
“You didn't get any either?”
“Nope,” he shook his perfectly groomed, blonde hair.
Bridget carried six candy grams back to her desk; five from Isaac and one from Nate. Rachel sat across the room counting hers; from what I could tell, she had more than Bridget.
“Who sent those?” I asked Nate.
“I got one from Bridge, one from Rachel, and two from the weird chick in Spanish class.”
Bridget stared at the empty desk in front of Isaac. “Where are yours?”
“I didn't get any—”
“Well, that can't be right,” she said. “I dropped off a ton for you last week. And Steph, I sent some for you too.”
“Likewise,” Nate chimed in. “I bought at least—”
“Quiet down, guys,” Mr. Rivera said, turning to the blackboard. “Let's put those away. We have a lot to get through today.”
Even with a gun to my head I couldn't recall the information covered into today's lecture. I stared at a blank sheet of paper in front of me for the whole period. I tried not to show my hurt, disappointment, or appear too pitiful.
The bell finally rang and everyone jumped to their feet and scurried away.
“Mr. Peyton, Miss Ghijk,” our teacher said. “I'll need you two to stay after for a moment.”
The rest of the class cleared out. Nate and Bridget waited at the door as Isaac and I met Mr. Rivera at his desk. He bent over and pulled two identically large boxes, each overflowing with decorated bags, from beside his filing cabinet.
“I can keep these for you until the end of the day,” he said.
“What is it?” Isaac asked.
“Candy grams. Apparently the two of you have made quite the impression on your fellow classmates.”
“A whole box?” I whispered, staring in front of me.
“A whole box, Miss Ghijk,” he assured me. “I know this is a lot to lug around, so find me after the final bell to pick them up.”
“Awesome,” Isaac said, plucking a bag from his box. “Just one to cure the munchies.”
“One for you, Steph?” Mr. Rivera asked.
“Nope,” I said. “I can wait...”
“Alright, get going. Don't be late for second period.”
Isaac and I exchanged wide eyes as we walked out of the room.
“What were you saying about us being losers?” I asked him with a grin.
“I stand corrected.”
The final bell of the day had already dismissed the students from class. I walked down the hallway and headed toward the English classroom, ready to claim the box of Cupid Candy Grams.
Nate ran up behind me and put his arm around my shoulder. “Need an escort, sweetie?”
“Knock it off,” I playfully shoved him into a set of lockers.
He regained his composure and caught up with me once again. “I'm just trying to hold up appearances—”
“Well stop,” I grinned. “There's no one else around.”
We ran into Isaac as we turned the next corner. “Going to get your candy?”
“Yup,” I said, pushing Nate's hand off me for the second time. “I'm gonna thump you--”
“I love it when you talk rough—”
“Don't you have somewhere to be?” I scolded him.
“Detention!” he said, proudly. “Isaac, make sure she gets home safe, dude.”
“Always do.”
It was only a summer benefit living a block away from school. In the winter, with all the snow and ice, I'd take a ride from anyone who would offer one. And in my case, the offer came from Isaac Peyton. Every. Single. Day.
We reached the English classroom to find a closed door. Isaac took hold of the handle. It didn't budge.
“Locked. Maybe he forgot.”
I knocked and listening for a moment. “I guess so.”
We started to turn away as the door swung open. I turned back and dropped my smile at the sight of Miss Holt standing in the doorway.
Karen Holt was a woman I... is loathed too strong? I'll keep it simple and say that she's possibly the only person I've ever hated with every fiber of my being. Why? Since my first day in Webster Grove she's treated me with nothing but disrespect. She argued against me running the costume crew during the fall production, talked down to me at any given chance, and walked around school like everyone owed her a favor. Of course, most of my hatred stems from watching her throw herself at Alex.
“Did you two need something?” she flipped her perfectly pin-straight blonde hair behind her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Isaac moved back. “We were supposed to meet Mr. Riv—”
“He's not here,” she snapped.
“What are you doing in his room—”
“I hardly think that's any of your business, Miss Ghijk.” She raised her nose and stepped back inside, closing the door behind her.
“I guess this conversation is over,” Isaac said, rolling his eyes. “We'll get 'em tomorrow. Let's go.”
Isaac dropped me off outside our two-story brick rental on Main before turning into his own driveway across the street. I walked up the porch steps, turned the key in the lock, and pushed the door open as far as I could. It was stuck on something.
“Hello?” I wedged my head inside, hoping to get somebody's attention. The entire foyer was covered with flower arrangements, candies, and every size of stuffed animal imaginable. “Hello? Can someone please let me in?”
“Coming!” Cal yelled from the kitchen.
Moments later he cleared a pathway.
“I know you have a big personality,” I said stepping in. “But this is a bit too much. Even for you.”
“I didn't do this,” he assured me.
I picked up a bouquet and read the card; Happy Valentine’s Day, Steph.
“They're all for you. Wanna venture a guess where they came from?”
I ignored him and stared at the flowers. “Daisies...”
“Every single one.”
“Is this a joke?” I asked, before noticing a box of Cupid Candy Grams sitting on the floor next to the stairs.
“Steph,” Cal lowered his gaze. “Whatever is going on between—”
“Nothing,” I assured him.
“Popular excuse--”
“Nothing.”
“Without saying too much,” he rubbed his head. “I know how you feel about Alex, and I know how he feels about you—”
“Yeah?”
He scratched the side of his neck. “Just... don't do anything stupid, Steph.”
“Couldn't if I wanted to,” I said, carrying a giant teddy bear up the steps. “Riveras are headstrong, remember? I'll be down to get the rest later, Cal.”
“Steph, I'm trying to talk to you—”
“Hearing you loud and clear, Cal,” I yelled as I reached the top floor. “Be careful. Think clearly. Keep your head on straight. Blah blah blah—”
“Women!” I heard him say as I walked toward the furthest bedroom at the end of the hall.
I love this room— a spacious, personalized space with a hint of sass; decorated perfectly with framed drawings of my clothing and costume designs. The best feature of all, of course, is the large window that overlooks the backyard. Who cares that the view is slightly obstructed by the giant oak tree growing alongside the house? That's one of the reasons I adore it; this place was designed for a teenager needing an escape.
I entered the room and noticed another gift sitting dead center on the window seat, awaiting my arrival… a vase full of bright red roses. Those, however, could wait for a moment. For now, I had to text Alex.
(Abcdef Ghijk to Alexander Rivera)
You're amazing. Thank you for the wonderful gifts. Happy Valentine’s Day, Alex. XOXO
I finally turned back to the flowers by the window and read the card:
I hope to tell you one day how much you truly mean to me. For now, I'll bide my time. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.
No name.
Who would write this?
Nate?
Or maybe Isaac?
I looked outside to see footprints in the snow. They lead right up to the oak tree. Whoever bought these flowers delivered them themselves.
Which means one thing… I have to start locking this window...
Chapter Three
Wednesday February 15
“Good morning, Miss Ghijk.” His brown eyes followed my movement as I came in.
“Mr. Rivera,” I nodded. “Did you have a nice Valentine’s day?”
“Quiet,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You?”
I took my seat and sat down, facing the front of the room. “It was... different.”
“Yeah?” He stood up and moved to the blackboard and began writing in his usual small strokes.
“My boyfr...this guy... he's...,” I shook my head and tried to regain composure. “There's a fella—”
“Okay...” Although I couldn't see his face, I could tell by his tone that he was fighting his heart-melting smirk.
“And... well, he's been giving me a lot of mixed signals.”
He dropped the chalk in the tray below and turned to face me. “How so?”
I didn't want to risk having this conversation here despite the fact we were the only two in the room... and probably would be for the next five minutes. I looked at the clock and decided I had enough time.
“Well,” I started. “He brought me a Thanksgiving basket—”
“From his grandmother—”
“And lied to me and said it was from his grandmother.”
He bit his lip and knew he couldn't protest.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“He gave me an incredible Christmas gift—”
“Just one?”
“A few,” I smiled. “Then on New Year’s—”
“A kiss to bring in a new year,” he commented. “That's traditional—”
“And he always seems to find my hand under the table if we're sitting close enough during a Saturday dinner—”
“Sounds like a charmer,” he said, turning to walk to his desk. He sat down and flipped through the lesson plans.
“He hinted at the L word, only to take it back—”
“Did he take it back?”
“And he insists on not having a relationship—”
“Yet.”
“But then I come home from school yesterday to find a foyer full of daisies, candies, and stuffed animals.”
He looked up and bit his bottom lip. “And that made you feel....?”
“Confused.”
The first bell rang. My best friend shot into the room smiling like I'd never seen her smile before. Mr. Rivera and I stared at each other for a few short moments before I turned to Bridget, who had already taken her seat.
“What's wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” she whispered, still wearing a grin suitable for a Cheshire cat. “Ab-so-lu-tely nothing.”
I watched her for a moment. Her fingers were twitching and her whole body was fidgeting as she pulled an ink pen from her purse. “Bridge, why are you acting—”
“We did it,” she said a little too loud.
I looked at Mr. Rivera, the only other person in the room, and then back to Bridget. “Who did what?” I lowered my voice, hoping the information that followed wouldn't be what I suspected.
“Me. Isaac... It.”
I closed my eyes. “Bridge--”
“Two consenting adults, Steph. I don't need you to—”
“We're you—”
“Safe, safe, safe,” she said. “I promise.”
“Was he--”
“Gentle and loving as could be,” she said, finally speaking above a whisper. “But you'd understand. I'm sure you and Nate—”
“No!” I cut her off, acting a little more repulsed than I should, considering he was supposedly my boyfriend. “I mean, we're not in that place—”
“Uh-huh,” she smirked.
“So, things are pretty serious with you guys?”
“We're in love,” she assured me. “I've never met anyone like him.”
Thursday February 16
Just yesterday Bridget told me that she and Isaac had taken their relationship to the next level. I know I shouldn't have been surprised; this day and age, waiting past high school is a feat for most people. But this was Bridget Wright; a girl who wouldn't even say the word sex and cringed every time she had to spell it. Still, I trusted Bridget to make the best decisions for herself. Besides, who am I to judge whether someone is right or wrong? My current relationship situation doesn't exactly scream squeaky clean.
I never got to finish the conversation with Alex. While I caught an occasional glance during class or in the hallway, he hadn't said or done anything out of the ordinary.
I sat down next to Nate at our usual table.
“What's for lunch?” I asked him.
He looked at the tray and scoffed. “Just as much of a mystery to you as it is to me,” he said, looking at the empty space in front of me. “You're not eating again?”
“Haven't been hungry—”
“That's four days in a row you haven't eaten anything for lunch, Steph.”
“You’re keeping count?”
“You're eating at home, right? You're not like... starving yourself are you?”
“No!”
“Because...you're skinny and stuff... you don't have to be irrational about dieting—”
“I'm not trying to lose weight,” I snapped. “I'm just not hungry. Can we move on?”
“Let's,” he agreed. “What's the deal with you and Tarzan lately?”
Tarzan was Nate’s nickname for Mr. Rivera. He started calling him this last week after Bridget described our English teacher as nothing short of exotic, dark, and mysterious.
“No news,” I said honestly. “He's been distant.”
“Distance is a good thing, Steph,” he assured me. “At least until after graduation.”
“I know,” I sighed. We both sat in silence for a few moments before I looked at Nate and met his gaze. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always—”
“You don't like me as more than a friend, do you?”
“God, no,” he said, a little taken aback. “I mean, you're great and stuff, but no. Why? Is Tarzan not enough for you?”
I smirked. “I got a strange valentine on Tuesday. I thought it mighta been from you.”
“Candy gram?”
“Roses. On the window seat in my room. They came with a weird note too. Something like, I can't wait until I can tell you how much you mean to me.”
“Hmm,” he sat up straighter. “Isaac maybe?”
“That was my next guess.”
Bridget and Isaac plopped down across from us with their trays. Bridget, as always, settled for nothing more than an apple and a bottle of water. Isaac, like Nate, had a mountain of steaming hot mystery food piled on his plate.
Despite their differences, and the fact that Nate only trusts Isaac as far as he can throw him, the two boys were doing their best to maintain a friendly environment for their female counterparts.
“I'm exhausted.” Bridget rubbed her eyes.
Isaac put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Hang in there, sweetheart.” He turned to us and mouthed auditions.
“You're preparing for the show already?”
“I'm running out of time,” she said dramatically. “I only have four weeks to prepare—”
“You're going to be fantastic, B,” I smiled. “Who better to play Marian the Librarian?”
“Auditions are coming up already?” Nate chimed in.
“Why? You interested in tryin' out again?” I teased him with a playful nudge.
“God, no!”
I shared a sly smile with Bridget, remembering my first day at Webster Grove High. It was also the day of the Romeo and Juliet auditions. Nate had lost a bet with Bridget and his price to pay was auditioning for a role in the production. The poor guy landed the lead and got stuck on stage for the next six weeks.
“What was the bet you lost again?”
“Forget it, Steph—”
“He said that Mr. Rivera and Miss Holt would be engaged by the beginning of this year, and they weren't,” Bridget smiled, still basking in his defeat.
“Why make that gamble?”
He looked at me and then back to Isaac and Bridget. “Well, Steph,” he started, acting as though he didn't want to answer the question. “Before you moved to town, rumor had it that they were pretty hot and heavy. I thought for sure they'd end up married--”
“I knew they wouldn't,” Bridget clapped.
“Are they still together?” Isaac inquired.
“No,” I spat. “He wouldn't date someone like her.”
“Obviously he would,” Bridget said. “Because he already did.”
Chapter Four
Saturday March 03
“We're not meeting tonight,” Cal said, popping his head into my room. '”Caroline needs a break from all the planning.”
“Okay,” I nodded.
We'd had two meetings since Valentine’s day. Mom finally settled on a color for the wedding— a beautiful shade of light yellow. Now, I wonder where she ever got that idea?
Alex had been doing exactly what he promised on Christmas Eve… waiting, and at a distance. While I waited each Saturday for his hand to find mine, he'd kept to himself. His eyes still lit up when we talked... but he remained silently clear on one thing: he was going to start keeping his hands (and lips) far from me.
“She has a birthday coming up,” he told me, as if I didn't know. “Interested in tagging along on a shopping trip?”
“For mom?” Not even a little bit. “Sure.”
“She's getting ready for an evening nap—”
“You want to go now?”
“Are you up to it?”
I nodded and put my sketch book aside.
After an hour of seemingly endless shopping and no purchases to show for it, Calvin stopped off at a high-end jewelry store.
“I think I'll wait in the car. You know her better.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, pulling the cell phone from my pocket. “Go ahead. I'm not going anywhere.”
Calvin disappeared. I stared at the screen in front of me, contemplating on whether or not I should try to reach out to his brother. I decided to text:
(Abcdef Ghijk to Alexander Rivera)
No dinner tonight. Birthday shopping for mom. It's your first free Saturday night in weeks! Any big plans?
As fast as I sent the message I received:
(Alexander Rivera to Abcdef Ghijk)
Nothing exciting.
...really? That's it?
I sat quietly for another twenty minutes before Calvin reappeared.
“Find anything good?” I asked.
He lifted his hand and patted his chest pocket. “Yes, ma'am!”
“Great,” I mumbled. “Take me home.”
He started the car and sent me a worried look. “What did he do?”
“Who?”
“My brother—”
“Nothing.”
“You've been short for a couple weeks, Steph. Obviously you're unhappy—”
“I'm fine,” I nearly yelled. “Can we just...”
“Would you mind if I stopped by the restaurant real quick? I need to check in—”
“Whatever.”
The drive felt like every bit of its ten long minutes. We finally reached Calvera's and I slumped lower with my arms crossed.
“Nope,” he shook his head. “You're coming. Get out.”
“What?”
“Now.”
Seeing the relentlessness in his eyes, I threw the seat belt off and jumped out of the car.
“That's my girl.” He placed his arm around my shoulder as we walked into the back entrance of the restaurant.
“Wow,” I whispered, taking in the site. “This kitchen is freaking huge—”
“My home away from home!” he said, proudly. “Nick,” he stopped a tall, brunette man. “Remember Caroline's daughter, Steph?”
Isaac's father stood before me, dressed in a white coat and carrying a pot of boiling water.
“Oh... you work here?”
He blinked several times behind his large, round glasses. “Steph. Nice to see you again.”
“I hired Nick last month,” Calvin told me. “He's my right hand man—”
“Always a sous chef, never an executive,” Nick smiled, not breaking his gaze. “Are you hungry, Steph? I can have the guys whip something up in no time.”
Starving, actually. But I'll never fit into my bridesmaid dress if I don't lose another five pounds.
Calvin started talking to a female employee in the kitchen and shot away to observe an issue in the walk-in freezer.
“Listen,” Nick said after we were alone. “I know you're a little unsure about me. I never meant to give you the wrong impression,” he assured me. “You just remind me so much of someone—”
“Oh...”
“I'm not a creep,” he promised with a smile.
“Good to know,” I nodded. “Bridget really thinks a lot of you—”
“It's a mutual feeling.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, what's for dinner, Steph?”
“You're the one with the spatula,” I smirked, suddenly realizing that maybe Nick was just as likable as his son.
“I'm gonna blow your mind, sweetheart.” He winked and dashed away.
“He's a pretty great guy, huh?” Calvin reappeared.
“I guess.” I shrugged and took a seat on a tall stool in the corner. “Everything okay?”
“The freezer is acting up again,” he said. “Damn thing has been busted for days.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Be patient,” he continued. “I'll just need a few minutes to do a quick-fix and make a call to have someone come in and take a look at it.”
“No hurry. I have a plate on the way.”
“Yeah?” he smirked. “So you're gonna eat?”
“I eat!” I lied.
Unless you count water and crackers three times a day, I hadn't eaten a solid meal in weeks. Just a month ago, mom made herself perfectly clear: Baby, the dress isn't too small. You're too big.
I pulled the cell phone from my pocket once again.
(Abcdef Ghijk to Alexander Rivera)
I miss you.
Calvin's 'quick fix' wasn't as quick as he'd hoped. An hour passed and I was still sitting with my butt planted firmly on the bar stool.
“How is the culinary industry working out for you?” I asked Nick from the other end of the room.
“It's been a blessing. I didn't think I'd find work when I moved up here.”
“Call me crazy, but I thought Isaac said your company is why you ended up in Webster Grove in the first place?”
“Did he? Oh, well...”
I watched Nick move nervously around the kitchen. His glasses started to slide down his nose and he pushed them back with ease; he was simply a dork of a man at home in his element.
I couldn't forget the hype he and Isaac had caused when they came to town. No one trusted them, including Nate and Alex. I'd originally convinced myself Isaac was up to something. He always seemed to poke his nose where it didn't belong and could never keep his stories straight. He reminded me a bit of mom in that sense— constantly struggling to remember which lie he was supposed to be living.
“Is Webster Grove anything like your life in New Jersey?” I asked him.
A test. When Isaac first moved here he'd told me they were from New York. Later, Bridget recalled his story being North Carolina.
“Not at all,” he said, fumbling with a pan. “The weather is completely...uh... wait...I'm—”
“Trying to remember where you're supposed to be from?” He turned away and started to chop the celery. “I'm not judging,” I continued. “I've moved a lot in my time too. There's magic in starting over. You get chance to leave the past behind and look toward a bright, new future.”
“I guess,” he mumbled. “What kept you on the road all these years? Did your mom have an important job?”
“Ha!”
“No?”
“No,” I assured him. “It's kinda a long story, but I'll give you the Reader's Digest version.” I readjusted myself on the stool and rested my elbows on the table in front of me. “Mom got pregnant young. Her boyfriend was an abusive drunk. She was scared, so we moved. And anytime she felt like he was on her tracks, she ran again. It's been a lifetime cycle of hide and seek.”
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