The Secrets We Keep

by Deb Loughead

  “You don’t even know how much better I feel now, just coming clean about what happened that night,” she says as she brushes Petunia Pizzazz on my toenails.

  “Honestly, Els,” I wiggle my toes because it tickles, “it’s a huge relief for me, too. Just knowing I’m not the only one who’s been feeling guilty. I still have freaky nightmares. I just wish you hadn’t brought Spencer into the mix.”

  “I know. Me, too. But I didn’t know what else to do, Clem. I was going crazy worrying. You know, sometimes I wonder if Mac and I really like each other, or if we’re just stuck together because all this nasty crap happened. Okay, don’t wiggle or I’ll mess up.” She pinches my baby toe, and I yelp. “The whole Kit thing made us totally paranoid. And since Ms. Stitski showed up at the assembly last Friday, things have gotten worse than ever. I wish Mac and I could start over from a different place, a different time. Before all hell broke loose in June.”

  “Hmmm, maybe you two should take a break for a while, just ’til all this blows over,” I tell her, then blow on my toenails to dry them. “It’s like you guys are the worst thing to happen to each other. Bet your mom thinks that anyway.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I promise you, I’m gonna try harder with my mom. I’ve really been a total bitch with her lately. And I also plan on keeping my distance from Mac until this all blows over. It really is the best thing for both of us. He’s getting way too stressed out over everything and he’s stressing me out too. But I’m not sure all this will ever completely go away, either. Especially with Kit’s mom looking for a scapegoat. And with that watch reminding us. We should just get rid of it like he says, don’t you think?”

  It’s the most earnest I’ve seen her face in ages. I’m almost proud of her for taking a shot at owning her problems. “I’m not sure yet. It’s still evidence. If they ever reopen the investigation, it might be good to have around. Don’t worry. It’s somewhere safe.”

  Buried deep in the back of my undies drawer for now.

  “Sure hope you’re right,” Ellie murmurs. “And thanks for not despising me. Or giving up on me.” Then she leans over to hug me, and I hug her back for the first time in ages.

  After that we watch our fave movie, The Notebook, on my laptop.

  When we finally turn the lights out, I see her texting in the other bed as my eyes flutter shut. My phone is in the kitchen with Mom’s, Dad’s, and Zach’s, our nighttime family pact still intact.

  I wake up once when I hear a thump and an “ouch.” Ellie’s standing in the middle of my room, holding her phone. “What’s wrong?” I squint in the glow from her flashlight app.

  “Wow, Clems, I was trying to find my way to the washroom in the dark, and I walked straight into your closet and stubbed my toe on something,” she says.

  “Hah! What a loser!” I laugh, roll over, and snuggle in, still smiling.

  14

  “You really don’t expect me to wear that thing, do you?” Jake is staring at his costume as if it might jump up and bite him. “I thought you said no dress for me. And seriously, knee socks? And what’s with the lame Peter Pan hat and booties?”

  “Well, it’s clearly not a dress, Jake,” Dad tells him. “You’ll be wearing hose and knee-breeches on your bottom half. And on your top half, you’ll be wearing this tunic, called a doublet, with a jerkin over top. This was usually worn by the working class, but it will work perfectly well for your costume. Now if we wanted to be authentic …”

  “Okay, Dad, enough with the fashion history lesson. He’ll totally rock this outfit.” Jake gives me a scathing eye roll. I smile back at him and say, “Check out my costume.”

  I hold up a flowing green dress with a tapered waist and billowing sleeves. There’s a sweet little cap for my head, like something straight out of Romeo and Juliet. I can hardly wait to get ready for the dance tonight.

  “Ellie’s already got her costume, and she’s meeting us at the dance,” I explain to Jake. “She came over to the high school with us this morning to pick it out, then we dropped her off at home.” I can’t help grinning at the thought of how gobsmacked Ellie was when she saw the creepy Banquo costume hanging on the rack. “She figures it might be a good idea to spend some time with her mom today after being allowed to sleep over last night. I hope those two can work on fixing things. Their relationship is so messed up, and they hardly even talk to each other anymore.”

  “Let’s hope she’s finally done with that dude,” Jake says.

  Mom is sitting in an armchair nearby. She’s sipping tea and studying Jake with something that might be major approval. I know she’s okay with this, whatever it is. When he looks the other way, she gives me the A-OK sign with her finger and thumb as she beams behind her mug. She told me last night after he left that the two of us look adorable together — her words — and that he seems like such a cool guy. I told her not to get her hopes up, that we’re just good friends who’ve bonded over the tragedy of Kit.

  But I can’t stop thinking about that sweet kiss, that snug and solid hug when he buried his face in my neck. Is it just a friendship thing, a sort of we-totally-get-each-other thing? Or is it, possibly, an honest-to-goodness real thing?

  Darkness drops like a stage curtain that evening as Jake and I head for the Sadie Hawkins dance. It’s the end of October, and fall has already dug in deep. I’m almost sorry I haven’t worn a jacket over my costume, but I didn’t want to cover it up and ruin the effect — because it looks totally awesome on me! Even Jake said so. He isn’t thrilled about wearing his outfit, though, as he keeps reminding me on the way over.

  “Okay, so these dorky stockings and breeches are totally making my legs itch,” he says, scratching hard. “How do girls even wear this stuff?”

  Which makes me laugh out loud. Wow, he must really care about me to step so far out of his comfort zone.

  “Guess you should’ve shaved,” I tell him, and I’m sure I hear him growl at me.

  We meet all sorts of strange and curious creatures along the way. Movie heroes and villains, TV show characters, and a few wizards and hobbits.

  There are way too many superhero duos, and we’re glad we didn’t pick that. There’s lots of the undead, as well. And just to make it completely freaky, many of them are zombie-walking their way toward the school in a moaning, stumbling pack of tattered, blood-soaked rags, dripping faces, and severed limbs. It’s like the zombie apocalypse has arrived. Even Aubrey shuffles past us in a complete daze, groaning and slobbering. She doesn’t even break character for a second to say hi. Jake sticks out his arms and tries to follow them, until I snatch hold of his elbow and spin him around.

  “This way, Macbeth,” I say as I drag him toward the school. “Keep an eye open for Banquo’s ghost. Fingers crossed that she doesn’t chicken out.”

  “Sure wish I was a zombie,” he says, then leans over and furiously scratches at his leg again.

  In my last few texts from Ellie, she was getting dressed and laughing at herself in the mirror. Then she complained that the costume was going to smudge her makeup, so she decided to shove the whole thing in a bag and change when she got to the school.

  Finally around 7:30, as Jake and I mill around checking out cool costumes, she texts, On the way.

  Perfect timing, I text back.

  The doors are opening at 8:00. For the next half hour, we chat in groups and take photos with our phones. We never show up at dances this early, but tonight’s an exception with all the crazy costumes everyone’s rocking. Jake’s still eyeing the zombies longingly, no matter how many times I jab him in the ribs. We head over to stand in line just before the chaperones begin to admit everyone. I keep checking my phone. I message Ellie when my itchy impatience finally wins out.

  U almost here? Doors are about to open!

  Getting close. Abt 5 min.

  When the doors open, she still hasn’t turned up. I stand in line,
craning my neck in the direction I expect her to be walking from. But the road leading to the school is deserted, and there’s no sign of Ellie under the orange glow of streetlamps.

  “Geez, where is she? Can’t she ever follow through with anything?”

  Jake squeezes my hand. “Quit your worrying, milady,” he says in his best British accent. “She’ll turn up soon enough, just like a bad halfpenny.”

  Somehow Jake can always find a way to make me smile.

  Finally they let us storm the gym, and as we surge through the doors, everyone lets out a gasp. The kids on the school social committee have done an amazing job of transforming the space into a haunted graveyard, complete with weathered headstones, severed limbs, eerie, twisted trees with dangling spider webs, and twinkle lights draped everywhere. A spooky crypt, glowing green from inside and spilling fog, dares us to enter at our own risk. The undead brigade stumbles straight in that direction, of course. They’re having such a blast that I think most of the rest of us wish we could be zombies, too. The opening song is “Thriller,” which makes it even cooler when they break into dance.

  I can’t focus on anything, though, because after the first couple of tunes, Ellie still hasn’t shown up. Should I be worried or angry? No text updates, either, which makes it even weirder. And Jake catches me every time I check my phone.

  Finally he wraps one arm around me, then cups my chin in his hand and makes me look straight into his eyes. “Stop obsessing over Ellie and try to have some fun. Geez, Clems, why do you let her get to you even when she’s nowhere near you?”

  I’m wondering the same thing when my phone buzzes and vibrates in my hand.

  “Dare you to ignore that,” Jake says. I ignore him instead and check the message.

  Meet me in the w/room.

  “Okay, she’s here, finally.” I squeeze his hand. “She wants me to meet her in the washroom. Be right back. And I promise you, for the rest of the night I’ll only be obsessed with you, my worthy lord.”

  “I look forward to it, dear wife,” he says with a chivalrous Shakespearean bow. Then he kisses my hand, and I practically melt like a Popsicle in the sunshine.

  The halls are empty except for a few costumed stragglers hurrying toward the gym and a chaperone on patrol. My footsteps echo off the walls, and they seem to follow me as I pick up my pace.

  I hope Ellie won’t be pulling one of her lame pouting acts, or crouched on the toilet seat crying like yesterday. I’ve had enough of that garbage. It’s time for her to totally take control of her problems instead of just avoiding them.

  I step into the washroom and the door creaks shut behind me.

  “Ellie?” My voice bounces off the ceramic and metal. “You in here?” No feet showing under the stall doors. “Quit playing games for god’s sake. You’re missing a great party!”

  Nothing. Fury seethes under my skin, and I feel my face burning. This girl is great at making me crazy. Why did I even give her another chance?

  “Okay, that’s it. I am so done with this messed-up game, Ellie Denton,” I tell the walls.

  Just as I turn to leave, the door opens.

  “Finally. Where were y —”

  Banquo’s gory ghost steps inside.

  And this ghost is way too tall to be Ellie.

  “Where’s the watch?” the ghost says. In Mac’s desperate voice. As he pulls off the hood, it’s like all the blood suddenly drains from my body.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at some university party, Mac?” I try to disguise a ripple of dread with something that sounds like boldness. “And where’s Ellie?”

  “Don’t worry about Ellie. So are you wearing the watch or what? Because I need to have it. Like, right now.”

  He’s standing between me and the doorway. There’s no way out of this situation. My only option is to stall and hope Jake comes looking for me. Or to yell, but my voice isn’t working so well right now.

  “Why would I be wearing a broken watch? And why do you need it so badly?” I ask, playing dumb.

  “Give me the watch, and maybe I’ll tell you.” His voice is raw and raspy, his face twitching every which way. “Come on. Let’s make this easy.”

  “I don’t have it. Why would you even think I’d wear it to this dance?”

  He frowns, and seems confused as he stands there gaping at me. I’m pretty sure Mac doesn’t think things through very much. He acts mostly on impulse, roaring around like his muscle car, looking tough on the outside. But what’s really happening on the inside? There must be some way to get through to this guy.

  “Seriously, tell me why you need it, Mac, and maybe I’ll go get it for you.”

  “I can’t tell you that, yet.”

  His face hardens again, and he takes another step forward. But now he looks more like a scared little kid than tough guy. Something is eating at him big time.

  “I know what went down that night, Mac.” I half-whisper so he’ll have to listen. “Ellie told me all about it. How Kit caught you guys. How he wanted Ellie’s watch and grabbed her wrist. How you made her give it to him.”

  Mac’s squinting eyes grow wide. Then, I can’t believe it. His face sort of crumples.

  “He was pissing us off.” He looks down at the floor. When he looks up at me again, his eyes are watering. “He was being such a pest, wouldn’t go away, so I did something stupid to try and make him go away. I didn’t realize he had so many problems, that he was challenged. I just thought he was some dumbass giving us a hard time.”

  “That’s not the story Ellie told me!” My heart is slamming in my ribcage. “She said he just ran off with the watch. What did you do, Mac?”

  He scrubs at his face. “She’s been trying to protect me. All this time. And what would happen if the cops didn’t believe my story? Or if Ms. Stitski hears, and tries to nail me for it? I’m supposed to start some college courses in January. If my parents find out, they’ll freak, maybe even boot me out of the house. So nobody can ever know about this. That watch has to be gone for good.”

  Mac leans his back against the wall, and starts sliding down till he’s sitting on the floor in a tangle of legs and bed sheets. Then he buries his face in his hands and moans as though something is hurting.

  “Okay, so what happened to Ellie? Where is she?”

  “I’m right here!”

  The washroom door opens. Ellie stands there, breathing hard, face red, the complete opposite of happy.

  “Mac, I am so totally sick of all this,” she says. “I hate you. I hate that watch. I hate everything.”

  But then she takes two giant steps forward, sinks to the floor, throws her arms around his neck, and starts sobbing. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry for every crappy thing that’s been happening.”

  And I’m so totally confused that I want to scream.

  15

  The two of them huddle in a heap on the washroom floor, hanging on to each other like they’re the last people on earth. Mac catches my eye over Ellie’s shoulder, and just shakes his head.

  “Told you she was messed up, Clems. We both are.” He hugs Ellie harder, which makes her sob even louder.

  “You mean you two … you two actually like each other? For real?” I’m in shock.

  “Yeah,” Mac says. “We do, a lot. But there’s always this thing between us. This lousy thing about Kit, and what happened that very first night we hooked up.”

  Then it dawns on me. “Wait, so that means you guys set this whole thing up tonight.”

  “It was my dumb plan, Clems.” Ellie looks like a sad clown with her smudgy makeup.

  The two of them stand up, arms still entangled, as if they need one another for support.

  “But it was mostly my fault,” Mac says. “I was pissed when Ellie told me you wouldn’t give her back the watch yesterday at your place.”

  “And I was afraid if
I asked you for it again, you’d get more suspicious, maybe figure out what Mac did. I even tried to find it in your bedroom last night.”

  “So that’s what you were doing. Geez, Ellie, I almost thought I could trust you again. Huh! Stupid me.” I’m not sure if I want to yell at them or burst into tears. “And how about when you jumped out of Mac’s car yesterday, acting like you were all freaked out. Then told that story to me and Jake. Was that all a set up, too?”

  “No, that was for real Clem. He was scaring me, acting all sketchy, and squeezing my wrist like I told you yesterday. So I jumped out of his car when it stopped.”

  “And I’m still sorry about that babe,” Mac says, kissing her temple.

  “I know that now, Mac. And I totally wanted to try keeping my distance from him, Clem. Honest! But then after we turned out the lights in your bedroom he started texting me again. And at first I ignored him, but he seemed so scared and desperate that I started texting him back …”

  “Right. I saw you texting.” I squint at her. “And then what, Ellie?”

  “He kept begging me to look for the watch after you fell asleep. He sucked me right back in. He always does. I … I can’t help it, Clem. That’s why I was digging around in your closet. I was looking for the stupid watch. I didn’t really lose my way in the dark.” Mac strokes her hair, almost tenderly.

  I groan and bury my face in my hands.

  “I know how bad it sounds,” she says between hiccupping sobs. “But please, just listen to me one more time, okay. I let Mac use my costume to get into the school dance tonight so he could ask you for the watch himself, maybe even scare you into giving it to him. Everything is always, always about that freaking watch.”