Secrets We Keep

by B. K. Leigh

  “I don’t even know if she is or not.” I take a deep breath. “She didn’t necessarily say she was, and she wasn’t even my student at the time.” I try to make reason with the actions that put me in this predicament.

  “What the hell does that even mean?” He asks next.

  “You remember that trip I took over the summer? I ask him, waiting for it to jog his memory.

  “The one where you just went completely AWOL?” his eyebrows pinch together with confusion.

  “I went to a bar, a club more like it and that’s where she comes in.”

  “What? Your student is old enough to go to clubs? How many times did she stay back?” He balks as he rolls his eyes.

  “No,” I tell him annoyed. “She used a fake ID.” I rub the increasing frustration from my temples.

  “Dude, you’re fucked.” He chuckles nervously. “Not only did you get a girl pregnant, but you got your student pregnant. Not only did you get your student pregnant, but she’s underage. You’re double fucked.” He rambles on and on.

  “I don’t know that for sure.” I try to remind myself of the small fact that everything I’ve told him so far is just speculation on my part. Speculation and a gut feeling.

  “Wait, what? First you throw out that bombshell, and now you’re telling me you don’t even know if it’s true? Or yours?” I watch as he tries to wrap his head around everything. “What makes you think that?” He asks next.

  “She didn’t tell me.” I pause. “I just saw her… with prenatal vitamins.” I tell him shamefully. “And then Parker showed up and said they were for his sister.” I say with anger.

  “Who the heck is Parker?”

  “Her bodyguard for Christ’s sake. Everywhere she goes, he goes. He was there that night when we... you know.” I stand up straight and rest my hands on my hips. “I don’t believe them. I could feel the lies rolling off the both of them. They were definitely up to no good.”

  “You’re telling me you just assumed all that bullshit you just spewed?” He asks incredulously. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to mind your damn business?” He asks me next. “If she didn’t tell you directly then it’s not your problem.” He continues his efforts of trying to make me understand his way of thinking.

  “But what if it is?” I ask him with all the seriousness in the world.

  “There are no what if’s. You just need to focus on the fact that nothing is one hundred percent. Don’t worry about something that doesn’t concern you.” He doesn’t get it. I don’t think he ever will. This feeling inside me is consuming me from the inside out.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I say to placate him.

  “You know I always am.” He sends me a cheeky smile, but all it does is mask the worry rolling through his mind. Worry I’ve become quite accustomed to.

  Chapter 6

  Tatum

  It’s been three restless days since I’ve seen Cohen, and I feel like my other half has been missing ever since. He went with his mom to attend a friends funeral out of town, and Grams wouldn’t let me go with them. To top it all off I’ve been getting hit with daggers every time I even come into the same vicinity as Killian. It’s as if his indifference towards me has turned into pure unadulterated hatred. The dread of attending his class next period builds more and more as the minutes tick by.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, drawing my attention to something other than Killian Matthews.

  CoCo: Guess what!

  Tatum: Please tell me it’s something good.

  CoCo: I’ll be there in five ;)

  Tatum: Don’t play around like that, you said you’d be gone for a week…

  CoCo: I pinkie promise!

  A smile forms across my cheeks, as my eyes search for Cohen towards the cafeteria doors.

  Tatum: Where?

  CoCo: Come find me!

  Just as his text comes through the bell for the end of our lunch period begins to go off, and almost everyone stands to leave at once. I push through the crowds of students and head in the direction of my next class. Cohen’s is in the same wing, so I’m betting that’s where he’ll be.

  Tatum: You better not be lying, or I swear…

  CoCo: Would I ever lie to you?

  Tatum: Maybe…

  Another bell begins to sound, and the students around me all begin to rush to get to their classes. The warning bell lasts a good three minutes. I’m in no rush to get to Killian’s as I search the halls high and low for my best friend. My eyes scan through all the students until they land on a head of shaggy chocolate hair.

  “Cohen!” I yell his name like a mad woman as soon as he comes into view. His face lights up with a smile as his eyes finally land on me.

  “Tate!”

  He’s at the other end of the hallway when I start to run to him. I don’t slow down when an angry voice shouts at my back, I just keep going. I run until I’m finally in my happy place. I run until I’m finally whole again.

  Cohen braces himself for impact as I jump into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist as my arms squeeze the living daylight out of his neck and shoulders.

  “Jeez, babe. You’re gonna kill me with that death grip.” He chuckles.

  “I fucking missed you.” I tell him honestly. “It was pure torture! Grams had me watching a General Hospital marathon for days.”

  “It was just three days.” He reminds me with a smile on his face.

  “Mr. Parker, Miss O'Neil,” A deep voice barks out in the now quiet and empty hallway. “Don’t you think it’d be best to get to class?” Killian asks sarcastically with a slight edge of anger to his voice. Cohen sets me back on my feet as the adrenaline of seeing him finally dies down.

  “I’ll see you after class, yeah?” He asks me as if Killian isn’t standing there waiting for us to go our separate ways.

  “You’re my ride home aren’t you?” I ask him sarcastically.

  “You’re lucky I came back today or you’d be taking the bus.” He counters.

  “Whatever, Co.” I hug his waist one more time, and just as we pull apart he places a soft kiss against my forehead. It’s a comfort I’ve had the luxury of having since I was a little girl.

  “See you later, baby girl.” He shoots me a wink and walks away. I walk past a now angry Killian, looking like a dog with it’s tail tucked between it’s legs.

  “We’ll be discussing your tardiness after class, Miss O’Neil.” He warns me as he shuts the door closed behind me. Every pair of eyes in the classroom land on me as I shamelessly make my way to an empty seat in the back.

  CoCo: Looks like someone’s not impressed with our PDA ;)

  Tatum: Well then I guess someone can shove it!

  “Miss O’Neil!” My head snaps upwards as my name is called out from the front of the classroom. “Please tell me that not only were you late getting to my classroom today, but you you are not sitting back there texting?” His voice is firm, sending a shiver down the back of my spine. Every one of my classmates stare at me, and I want nothing more than to shrink into myself. I don’t like being the center of attention, at least not when I’m clearly in trouble. I drop my phone onto the cool desk top and hope like hell he’ll drop it. “Well?” He asks as his feet begin to bring him closer and closer to me.

  “I wasn’t.” I lie, and everyone around me knows it. Killian knows it too.

  “You weren’t what?” He asks playing dumb. He stops walking until his thighs hit the edge of my desk. The same thighs that held me up tightly against the wall as he drove himself in and out of me, over and over again. My throat runs dry as the memories flood through me.

  Don’t do it.

  I beg myself not to, but my eyes betray me anyway. They travel up the length of his body. The dark blue jeans he’s wearing accentuate his thick muscular thighs. His black button down is tucked in at the waist and should all but be illegal. I can see the V beneath the thin material that does nothing to conceal the muscle beneath. My mouth begins to water as I notice
the rolled up sleeves resting on his large forearms. I don’t know if it’s the hormones or what, but the minute my eyes reach his it feels as if I might spontaneously combust. And if I'm not mistaking that sparkle in his eye tells me he might be feeling the same.

  “Miss O’Neil?” My name falls from his lips in the form of a question. A challenge even. His dark eyebrows are pinched together, and the fire in his ocean eyes all but disappears. He looks at me as if he can read my mind. A mischievous smirk forms across his plump lips causing a burning fire to creep up my neck and onto my cheeks. I hope like hell no one else can see our exchange.

  “I wasn’t texting.” I lie straight to his face once again.

  “So you wouldn’t mind if I took this then?” He grabs my phone right off the desk in front of me and my heart leaps out of my chest. Once again I’m out of words. “There will be no texting in my class, all of you would do best to understand that sooner rather than later.” He barks out not just to me, but to everyone else as well. A few girls from the front of the classroom bust out in a fit of giggles. All the while I’m praying like hell he won’t go through my messages. I can’t remember exactly what’s been said between Cohen and I, but I know ninety nine percent of it would be majorly incriminating.

  The rest of the class seems like a giant blur. The ramblings of Killian come out in waves of low muffles and heavy sighs. His voice carries on for what seems like forever. History is definitely a subject he’s passionate about. If I were a good student who paid attention to more of what he was saying, rather then the way his jeans held onto the shape of his butt I know I’d actually be able to pass this semester. Maybe even learn something. But the truth is I’m not, and am doomed for sure.

  When the small white work sheet lands in front of me I will myself to fill it out as best as I can, but my mind is elsewhere. Every now and then Killian’s eyes find mine, making my skin light up in red hot flames of fire. He’s torturing me, and he knows it. When the bell finally rings I let out a sigh of both relief and frustration. I barely managed to complete half of the work sheet. There’s no way I’ll pass with only half of my work completed. I gather my things and stand to leave. With my head hung low I take the walk of shame all the way to Killian’s desk. He’s silent, but calculating. As the rest of the students file out, I stay behind. The tension seems to grow more and more as the minutes tick by.

  I don’t make a move as he stands to close the door after the last student leaves us. I should be scared, nervous, concerned. But I’m none of those things. If anything, I’m relieved to just be in his presence. I’m relieved to have his attention, even if it’s negative and all focused on me.

  “Do you want to tell me what makes you different?” His question confuses me, while the sudden outburst of his voice startles me all at the same time.

  “What do you mean?” I ask confused.

  “I mean what makes you think the rules don’t apply to you?” He asks me seriously.

  “Killian, I-”

  “My name is Mr. Matthews!” He all but shouts. My shoulders jump at his raised voice, and I take a step backward. “I will not have you calling me differently. There are rules in this school, and in my classroom! I will not make any exceptions for some troubled teenage girl.” My face lights red with shame, as I feel the pressure building behind my eyes.

  “Your name wasn’t Mr. Matthews when you were balls deep inside of me, Killian.” I sneer. I don’t like being backed into corners, and I know that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. His face morphs into pure anger. A rage so deep, I’ve never seen it before.

  “I will not have you speak to me like that!” He puffs out his chest as he comes to stand directly in front of me. “Nothing happened in that club, Miss O’Neil. Nothing but regrets, and certainly nothing I will ever admit to.” It’s as if he knows every word he speaks is a sucker punch to my gut. My insides twist and turn with with every word thrown my way, as they slowly morph into a heartache I don’t want anything to do with.

  “You’re lying.” I accuse him. “That’s why you’re so mad right now.” I taunt him. “It’s all you can think about, and it’s eating you up inside. I have the power to ruin you and you’re scared!” I say with all the bitterness in the world. Although that’s something I’d never dare do. As if he couldn’t get any closer he steps towards me until we’re chest to chest with my lower back pressed against a wooden desk.

  “It’s me who has all the power here, Tatum.” He spits my name as if it tastes sour on his tongue. “You’ll be doing yourself a favor if you remember that.”

  “Tatum?” Our trance is broken the minute a third party is brought into the conversation. “What the actual fuck are you doing?” Cohen asks with shock and confusion written all over his face.

  “Fuck you, Mr. Matthews!” I spit out for just him to hear. I grab my phone from his desk, and head towards my knight and shining armor.

  Cohen wraps a protective arm around my shoulders the minute I come into his reach. “You want to tell me why it looked like you two were either going to come to blows or rip each others clothes off right in the middle of his classroom?” He’s confused, and it shows clear across his face.

  “He’s freaking psycho, Co.” My voice raises as I complain to him. “He drives me insane!” I pull at my loose strands of hair.

  “How are you going to get through the rest of the semester if you can’t even be in the same room with him?” He asks me seriously.

  “I’ve tried to switch, but Greta my guidance counselor wouldn’t let me.” I whine.

  “Well on the bright side, it’s only going to get worse from here.” He says sarcastically.

  “How optimistic of you.” I say as I elbow his side.

  “Hey, hey! I’m just being honest. Sooner or later you’re going to start showing, and people will start asking all the questions you don’t have answers to. Mr. Matthews especially.” He sighs before continuing. “So I’d say at this point, you two getting along is definitely the least of your worries.”

  “I’m fucked, aren’t I?” I look to him for reassurance, but come up empty handed.

  “Oh yeah, babe. You’re royally fucked.”

  Chapter 7

  Tatum

  “You gonna stay in there all night or what?” Cohen asks from his small twin sized bed.

  “Or what.” I mumble in response.

  “What the hell are you even doing in there anyway?” He tries again.

  “I’m surprised you even noticed.” I say in a huff. “You’ve been glued to your phone all night.” I add in annoyance.

  “It’s kinda hard not to notice my clothes being flung from my closet.” He tells me sarcastically. “Besides, Cassie Stamer added me on Snap-chat.” He says with a boyish smile on his face.

  “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” I ask with my eyebrows pinched together.

  “Does it even matter?” There’s a sparkle in his eye that tells me he couldn’t give a flying fuck if she did or not.

  “I guess not.” I shrug as I rip a maroon hoodie from its hanger and chuck it on to the middle of his bedroom floor.

  “You better be cleaning all that up when you’re done.” He warns, staring at the giant pile of clothes I’ve amassed.

  “I’m taking them with me.” I say in nonchalance.

  “What?” He balks. “You have your own clothes.” He reminds me.

  “Yeah but I want yours.” I say with a pout.

  “Why would you want mine?” He’s acting as if I haven’t been stealing his clothes for years. Hell, I practically lived in his boxers the entire summer. Something about boy clothes is more freeing than ones made for women.

  “Mine are too tight. They show too much.” I complain.

  “Isn’t that how they’re supposed to be?” he asks in confusion.

  “Yeah, but now I have this.” I point to my still flat stomach. “I don’t want anyone to know yet.”

  “You’re a string bean, baby girl.” He tells me in all seriousn
ess. “No one’s going to know for a long time.” He tries to reassure me but it doesn’t help one bit.

  “You don’t know that for sure.” I argue. “What if I blow up like a balloon tomorrow? Then what?” I question.

  “Then I guess you need to move to some place where no one knows you.” He chuckles softly.

  “It’s not funny, Co. I’m going to be huge at some point, and I’m not going to risk anyone knowing. I’m going to hold out as best I can.”

  “And stealing my clothes is going to help you do that?” The tone of his voice is playful as he continues to taunt me.

  “They’re big, and comfy.” I shrug. “No one’s going to think I’m pregnant, they’re just going to assume we’re sleeping together.” I joke.

  “How am I supposed to hook up with Cassie, if I’m already hooking up with you?”

  “I don’t know, all I know is I call dibs on all of your hoodies and boxers.” I shoot him a wink as I continue to rummage through his closet.

  “That’s not fair.” Now it’s his turn to pout. “You can’t have all of my boxers.”

  “Why not, it’s not like you wear them anyway.” I shoot him a cheeky grin.

  “Touche.” He says bringing his attention back to his phone. “I guess now I have no choice.”

  “You have a choice, Cohen.” I smile sweetly. “But you know you’re gonna let me take them anyway.” I come out of the small closet and the fresh air assaults my heated body.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He brushes me off. “But you can’t take my lucky hoodie.” He says just as I begin to pull it over my head.

  “Too late.” I say as I steal his favorite one.

  “Come on, Tatum!” He whines. “That’s my favorite one.”

  “Now it’s my favorite one.” I rub it in his face as he pouts on the bed.

  “You’re lucky I love you.” He says in annoyance.

  “I know.” I go to sit next to him. “You’re the best baby daddy a girl could have.”

  “I’m the only baby daddy a girl could have.” He retorts.

  “That makes no sense.” I shake my head laughing.