Secrets and Lies
Page 4
I found him playing pool by himself in a room upstairs. He had his blazer off, slung over the back of an armchair in the corner. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to his elbows. When I walked in, he was bent forward over the table, concentrating hard on a shot. It was pretty sexy, if I do say so. Especially when the nine ball bounced off the side of the table and sailed into a corner pocket.
“Hey,” I said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. “Who’s winning?”
Toby straightened up. “Well, I’m in the lead. But I’m giving myself a run for my money.”
I laughed and walked over to the table. “I’m surprised no one else is up here playing.”
“I was, too. But I figure, the place is huge. If you didn’t stumble upon it, you’d never know it was here.” He put the pool stick aside. “So how long will you be sticking around this time? Five minutes or ten?”
I bit my lip. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been pretty flaky tonight.”
“A little bit.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I plan to stick around this time, though…. And I can make it up to you.”
There was the blush. I couldn’t help giggling.
“You’re adorable, Toby,” I said.
He sighed. “Just what every nineteen-year-old male wants to hear.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, shut up.” I slugged him on the arm and he laughed. He opened his mouth, and I shook my head. “No, don’t even say it. I mean shut up, not STFU. I am working on the abbreviations, you know.”
“In the meantime, you owe me, like, seven dollars in quarters,” he said.
I batted my eyelashes. “Any chance I could persuade you to lower my debt?”
“I don’t know. A good politician would never take bribes.”
“Oh, please. All politicians take bribes,” I said. “They’re just good at keeping it a secret.” I hopped up onto the pool table and gestured for him to come closer. “Believe me, I’m good at keeping secrets.”
Toby laughed and stepped closer, resting his hands on the edge of the pool table, framing my hips. I leaned forward and—finally—kissed him. God, it felt like I’d been waiting all night to do that. And once I did, I didn’t want to stop.
His hands slid up to my waist and mine curled around the back of his head and neck. We made out like that for a while, until my heart was racing and my skin felt like it was on fire. I pulled back just long enough to yank my sweater over my head, then we were kissing again. I could feel his hands pressing into my back, warm through my thin cotton tank top.
We were gasping and laughing between kisses, and just when I was about to whisper something sassy or sexy or funny—I hadn’t really decided yet—I heard voices outside the door. I barely had time to separate my lips from his when the door opened and a drunk dude on his cell phone stumbled in.
There was no mistaking what was going on between Toby and me, not with how our hands were all over each other and our lips were swollen. And it only took the drunk dude a second to figure it out. His watery eyes went wide and his mouth gaped a little.
“Yo, Kurtis,” he said into the phone. “You won’t believe what I just walked in on. Do you remember that cheerleader chick? The crazy tall one? She’s totally hooking up with—”
I was off the table and across the room with his phone in my hand before he could finish that sentence. I snapped it shut and glared at him. But the drunk dude just stared at me, confused.
“What was that for? Why’d you hang up on Kurtis?”
“I will not be gossiped about.”
His eyes traveled down, down, down and rested firmly on my chest.
I glanced at my shirt and realized I was wearing a black bra—completely visible through my thin white tank top. I wrapped my arms around my chest, fighting the urge to vomit. “Eyes up here, moron.”
The drunk dude looked at my face again. “Huh?”
“Are you paying attention at all?” I asked. “Look, what you just saw—you aren’t going to tell anyone. If you do, I’ll make sure you never get laid in this town again. Got it?”
“What? How… how would you do that?”
“I have my ways. And trust me, you’ll find I’m telling the truth if you let anyone know about what you saw tonight. Understood?”
“Uh… sure. Okay. Can I have my phone back?”
“Yeah.” I handed him his phone and practically shoved him out the door before shutting it again. “OMG,” I groaned. “That was… Toby, what are you doing?”
He was standing in the corner, putting his blazer on. “Leaving.”
“What? Why?”
“I’d rather not be here.”
“Well… maybe I can go with you. I’ll tell Jess I’m—”
“Don’t bother lying to your friends,” he said.
“W-why not?”
“Because I’d rather not be with you.”
He started for the door, but I grabbed his arm. “Toby! What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”
When he looked at me, I expected him to be mad. The words he was saying, the tone of his voice—it made me think he was angry. Instead, he just looked hurt. Like I’d hurt him.
“You said you’re good at keeping secrets,” he said. “And I guess you are. But I don’t want to be your secret, Casey.”
“Toby—”
“At first I thought it was just about Bianca—that’s what you said—but it’s been weeks, and you still haven’t told her. Or anyone. Even though you said you would.” He shook his head. “I’m starting to think it’s not about Bianca at all. Maybe it’s about you. Maybe… maybe you’re just embarrassed because you still see yourself as the cheerleader and me as the geek with the bowl cut.”
“What? Toby, how could you think that?”
“How could I not?” he asked. “The way you just treated that guy…. Casey, I like you. I like you a lot. But I’m not going to be your secret. I’m done sneaking around.”
He pulled his arm from my grasp, turned, and walked out of the room. This time I didn’t argue. Or follow. Or try to stop him at all. I just stared at the door, tears stinging in my eyes, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world.
Chapter Five
As if I didn’t have enough to feel bad about, it turns out rushing B through those beers so I could keep running to the kitchen wasn’t such a great idea. She wasn’t normally much of a drinker, so her tolerance was pretty low. Low enough that Wesley had to carry her out to Jess’s car that night.
“I don’t know who’s going to regret this more tomorrow,” he said once she was sprawled out on the backseat. “Her, with the hangover, or you, because you get to deal with her while she has a hangover.”
“Is she that bad?” I asked. “I’ve never actually seen B get drunk before, so this is pretty new to me.”
“It’s only happened once since we started college,” Wesley said. “And it was pretty miserable for both of us. You know how cranky she is normally?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Multiply that by about ten.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah… well, Merry Christmas, you two. Have fun tomorrow.”
“Oh, I will,” Jess said, rubbing her hands together in front of the vent while I climbed into her car and buckled my seat belt. “I’m dropping them off and going home. She’s all Casey’s tomorrow.”
I scowled at her. “I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”
Wesley laughed. “Good night,” he said, waving as he headed back inside. “Tell Bianca I’ll call her tomorrow.”
B moaned from the backseat. She sounded like an animal who’d just been shot with a tranquilizer gun. It was the kind of noise I felt like I should be making. I felt nauseated and there was a pain in my chest. I’d only cried for a second after Toby walked out, but I’d been on the verge of tears ever since.
When we got to my house, my mom was already asleep. Somehow, Jess and I managed to drag a half-conscious Bianca up the stairs to my be
droom. That was all we could manage, though. She collapsed onto my bed and wouldn’t even move long enough to let us try and put her into her pajamas. We got her shoes and coat off, though. That was something.
Neither of us had a good night’s sleep. B tossed and turned and even got up once to throw up a little. I stayed on the other side of the bed, trying to think of anything but Toby’s hurt face before he’d left the party.
I liked him. I liked him more than I’d liked a guy in a long, long time. Maybe ever. He was nice and funny and didn’t mind that I was taller than him. I know that should have been a little thing, but it had been a big issue in the past. Toby was the best guy I’d ever dated, and I’d fucked it all up.
I decided I’d have the talk with B in the morning. Rip off the Band-Aid. But just as Wesley had promised, she had a hangover, and it was like normal cranky Bianca on steroids.
“Fuck,” she groaned with a hand on her forehead. “Why the hell did you let me drink so much?”
“You never exactly said no,” I told her, getting out of bed and heading to my closet to find clothes. “And you didn’t drink that much….”
“More than two beers is too much for me,” she mumbled. “God, Casey, will you stop making so much noise?”
“Sorry.” I shut the closet door as gently as I could. “B, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Can’t it wait? Maybe for a day when I don’t want to curl in a ball and die…. And oh my God, quit stomping! Just you walking around the room is making my head pound.”
I sighed and put my clothes on the edge of the bed. “Believe me, I wish this could wait. But—”
“Then wait,” she moaned.
B’s phone started ringing from the nightstand next to her head. She whimpered.
“You still have ‘Womanizer’ as your ringtone for him? Really?”
“I haven’t gotten around to changing it yet.” She rolled slowly and carefully onto her side and reached for the phone. For a second, I was seriously scared she was going to puke on my floor. But she didn’t. “Hey, Wesley,” she said into the phone. “What do you want?”
I changed out of my pajamas while she talked—which was mostly a series of mutters and grumbles. I’d just pulled my hoodie on when I heard her say, “Okay. Love you, too. See you in an hour.” She tossed the phone onto my side of the bed and covered her face with her hands. “Kill me.”
“I wouldn’t want to deal with the cleanup,” I said. “What did Wesley say?”
“His parents just got home. And they’ve invited me to a Christmas Eve lunch.”
“You could have said no.”
“I could’ve.” She sat up slowly, carefully. “But Wesley said they got me a gift and… I kind of should go. So he’s picking me up here in an hour. Which means I need your shower… and some coffee.”
“We don’t have any coffee.”
By the way B moaned, you’d have thought I’d just killed her beloved pet or something. I started to laugh, but she gave me a scathing look.
“Shower,” she said. “Now.”
“I’ll get you a towel.”
Once B was in the shower, I walked into the bathroom so I could brush my teeth and fix my hair. Part of me wanted to put off telling her about Toby, to wait until she wasn’t hungover and cranky, but the thought of Toby, of not seeing him, pushed me forward.
“So,” I said, just loud enough that she could hear me over the running water. “About what I was going to tell you earlier.”
“Please don’t shout.”
“I… wasn’t. But okay. So what I was going to tell you is… I’ve been sort of keeping a secret from you.”
“Casey, I can’t hear you.”
I gritted my teeth. “I was trying not to shout, but… but I’ve kind of… sort of… I hooked up with Toby.”
There was a long pause, then the water suddenly shut off and B poked her head around the shower curtain. “Toby Tucker?”
“Yeah.”
“When did that happen?”
“The night you and Jess picked me up from the bus station. That party. We kind of made out in the bathroom.”
“Wow.” She grabbed the towel I’d hung next to the shower and vanished behind the curtain. When she stumbled back out, she had the towel wrapped around her middle. “I can’t believe you’re just now telling me.”
“I was… I was nervous. I thought you’d be pissed.”
“Why would I be pissed?”
“Uh, do you know you? Everything pisses you off.”
B turned toward the toilet and started dressing in the clothes she’d left on the lid. We’d been friends for thirteen years, and somewhere in there, we’d both lost any sense of modesty around the other.
“You saying that kind of pisses me off, but the Toby thing? Why would that piss me off?”
“Because it’s against the Girl Code,” I said.
Bianca wobbled a little as she attempted to pull on her jeans. “Code? What Code? Who writes these stupid Codes?”
“Well, dating your best friend’s ex is usually a big no-no.”
“Wait—dating?” She turned to face me, one arm through her T-shirt. “You said you made out with him.”
“Well, we did… and then we went on a date. And then another. And another. And…”
“You’ve been dating him and you didn’t tell me?” she asked. “Okay. Now I’m kind of pissed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, hanging my head. “He’s your ex, and it’s weird, but—”
“I don’t give a shit about that.” She finished putting on her shirt. “Fuck the Girl Code or whatever. You didn’t tell me. That’s what I’m pissed about—oh, my head.” She sat down on the toilet and put a hand on her forehead. “Fucking hangover.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“About not telling me or this hangover?”
“Both,” I said.
“I just…” She trailed off. “Wait. Wait—the beers. Were you rushing me through beers so you could sneak off to see Toby? Without my knowing?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “Now I’m actually pissed. You didn’t just not tell me. You jumped through hoops to keep this from me. You got me wasted to keep this from me. That’s fucked up.”
I chewed on my lower lip. “I know.”
“Did you really think I’d be that mad? Do you really not trust me?”
“No, I do—I just—”
“I would really like to yell at you,” she said. “But my head hurts too much.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I really am. At first we just kissed and I thought it wouldn’t happen again, so what was the point in telling you, right? And then it did happen again and again and the more time that passed, the more convinced I was you’d hate me. I felt like I was betraying you.”
“By dating a boy I went out with for all of a week? Or two?”
“A boy you had a crush on for three years,” I said.
“In high school,” B said. “Casey, we’re adults now. Kind of. I’ve moved on. I want Toby to, also. Do you like him?”
“Yeah. A lot.” I looked down at my hands. “I’ve kind of screwed it up, though. I kept it from you for so long that he got upset. He walked out on me last night at the party.”
“You kind of deserved it,” B snapped. “If you’d just told me, neither of us would be pissed at you now. I thought you were better than this.”
“I thought I was, too,” I said. “That’s why it was so hard to just say it. I’m the loyal one. I’m not the one who keeps secrets or sneaks around. The longer it went on, the more scared I was.”
“Thanks for insinuating I’m the screwup,” B said. “I really appreciate it.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It kind of is,” she muttered. “We’re both allowed to mess up, you know. You don’t always have to protect me. Or put yourself on some sort of friendship pedestal. We’re equals, Casey. We fuck up equally.”
&nbs
p; “That’s… strangely uplifting. And you’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry. I really am.”
B rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Look. I’m still mad. I don’t know if it’s because you deserve it or because I feel like shit. But I am. I won’t be forever, though. You’re still my best friend, and I’m glad you’re dating someone you like. But we should drop it for now. And you should get me coffee.”
“We don’t have any,” I said.
“Then you should get some from the place down the street,” B said. “After causing this hangover, you kind of owe me.”
I almost pointed out—again—that she never said no to the beers, but I figured it wasn’t worth it. Instead, I just nodded, handed her my hair dryer, and headed down the street, knowing that, when this hangover passed, her anger would, too. We’d be okay. I’d told her the truth, and we’d be okay.
Chapter Six
When Mom came in from work that night, she had a box in her hand. “Hey, honey,” she said. “This was on the front porch. It’s addressed to you.”
I put down the remote control and walked over to her. “I didn’t hear the doorbell ring.”
“It’s broken,” Mom said. “I need to get it fixed.”
I took the box and noticed the return address immediately.
Toby.
I ripped open the box and, inside, found two more boxes, both wrapped in glossy red-and-gold paper. Christmas presents. He’d said he had something for me in mind. He must have mailed the box before our fight the night before. My heart sank a little.
“Something wrong?” Mom asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m just going to open these in my room.”
“Okay. Well, dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I headed upstairs with the boxes. I sat down on my bed and carefully unwrapped the first—a thin rectangular one. Inside, there was a DVD. A French film I’d mentioned to Toby on that accidental date. I’d been wanting to see it for months, but I hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He had, though. Inside the DVD case there was a small slip of paper with a note written in neat block print.