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The Secrets Duet

Page 3

by Brownell, Rachael


  “I’ll make sure she sends her an invitation first thing in the morning. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home when I finish up then.” I’m being dismissed. He’s almost pushing me out the door it seems. I wonder what I interrupted.

  I don’t respond. I close the door behind me but don’t walk away. I listen for a few minutes, hoping to get an indication of what I interrupted. I hear voices on the other side of the door, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I’m about to open the door and walk back in when her voice stops me dead in my tracks.

  “Cam. We need to talk.”

  I turn slowly, trying to keep my frustration in check. I do not need to do anything which involves her, including talk to her. “Not going to happen, Bets.”

  “You are being such as ass about all of this.”

  So much for keeping myself in check. “Seriously! You are the one who was sleeping with Luke, not me. You are the one who was cheating, not me. I can act however I want to. You are lucky you still have a job here. Press the issue again and you’ll lose that too.”

  She’s smarter than I gave her credit for. She took two steps back, putting some distance between us. I don’t normally have a temper and I never let it loose where someone else might see me lose control. She’s never seen me like this before, not even when I caught her and Luke. I kept myself in check. I was done being the nice guy.

  “Fine. We’re done then.”

  Really? Is she that delusional?

  “Bets, we’ve been done. Tell people you broke up with me, I don’t care. Everyone knows I caught you with Luke so they’ll never buy it. Just… move on and leave me the hell alone.” I walk away before she has a chance to respond. I’m finished with her. I’ve been finished with her. Hopefully now she realizes that I’m serious.

  3.

  Katrina

  I spent Saturday night painting my room the deepest shade of red that I could find. After I drug my mom to the hardware store, I made her take me to the local thrift shop to find decorations. I knew that we didn’t have much extra cash right now but I was feeling rather selfish and I didn’t care at the moment. I figured I would eventually find a job and pay her back, every cent.

  Sunday was spent staring at the new artwork on my now rich red walls. Rich. That’s funny. Everything about my room screamed “poor” but the wall color was truly a very rich red. Maybe that’s why I had chosen it. Subconsciously I must have known that I would have this conversation with myself.

  So, here I am, Monday morning, trying not to dread the week I have ahead of me. My mom starts her new job today so I am now officially taking the bus to school. I couldn’t be more uncool if I tried. The only people who take the bus to school are either too young to drive or don’t have a driver’s license. I have one, I just don’t have a car.

  This sucks. I have gone from rich socialite to a poor girl hiding from the rest of the world. I freaking hate my father. I really have to think about a new word to describe how I feel about him. I have the entire bus ride to think about it.

  If I thought that people were staring at me when my mom dropped me off in our piece of shit car I was wrong. Getting off the bus was so much more embarrassing than getting out of that car last week. I still haven’t spoken to a single person other than Mr. Mysterious. I had taken to calling him that in my head over the weekend. The fact that I have no idea what his name is… it’s driving me nuts. Why am I letting him get under my skin?

  I head inside to cram my books in my locker before first-period. It’s like the red sea parts as I walk down the hall. Everyone is staring at me and moving out of my way. I have no idea why but for some reason this is how it feels as I tuck my chin to my chest and beeline it for my locker.

  I’m turning the combination for the third time when I feel him behind me, Mr. Mysterious. I know it’s him before I even hear his voice. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention and my knees are starting to feel like they are going to give out at any moment. I really need to get my shit together around him. This is not like me at all. I normally ooze confidence. At least the person that I used to be did. There is my problem right there – I am not that person anymore.

  “Good morning,” he says dreamily from behind me.

  I tense up from the sound of his voice. Really? This is bullshit. I am getting angrier at myself by the second for letting him affect me. I’m over it. I’m about to tell him to leave me the hell alone when I turn around and make eye contact. Big mistake. I will myself to look away over and over again but my eyes are glued to his and his are glued to mine.

  “Hi.” It comes out as a whisper and I instantly see he realizes the effect he has on me.

  “Can I walk you to class or are you planning on avoiding everyone again this week?”

  How did he know I was avoiding everyone? Am I that transparent?

  “Um… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “Really? Why not? Are you afraid I might bite?” You can hear the sarcasm dripping from his sexy voice. Damn. I didn’t think he could sound any sexier.

  “Um…” Why can’t I seem to form a damn sentence? “I guess you can walk with me, but I’m not sure why you want to?”

  “It’s not that I want to, Kat, it’s more like I need to.”

  We’ve been staring at each other, unable to break eye contact, the entire time we’ve been talking. I can see the need in his eyes now and it scares the crap out of me. I finally find the strength to break eye contact and turn back to my locker, not sure what to say to him. I take a few breaths and try to calm my racing heart.

  “Well, if you must, but I’m not exactly in the mood to carry on a conversation.” I’m trying to sound uninterested, but I hear the uncertainty in my voice so I know he hears it too. My words did not come out as confidently as I had planned.

  I shut my locker and turn to find him standing closer than he was before. He reaches out his hand and my body betray me by reaching for him. I realize what’s about to happen just before our hands touch and I pull back and start walking. He falls in step with me, keeping up with the pace I’ve set which is faster than I normally walk.

  “So, Kat, where are you from?”

  I knew these questions were bound to come up. I’m new here so where did I come from? Why did we move here? Where’s my dad? Do I have any siblings? I’ve been trying to avoid these questions by avoiding forming any type of relationship with people but for some reason this guy keeps popping up in my life. That reminds me…

  “I don’t share that type of information with people I don’t know, and I don’t know you.” I pause and wait to see if he plans on offering me any information before I continue. He doesn’t. “So, if you want to know more about me I at least need to know your name.”

  We’re standing outside of my classroom now, staring at each other. We probably look like we’re crazy to anyone who’s watching. I’m staring at him, daring him to tell me, and he’s smirking at me. It’s almost like he wants to tell me but at the same time he doesn’t. Someone is going to give in and it’s not going to be me.

  I turn to walk into the classroom when he finally speaks.

  “Cam.”

  My heart stops beating momentarily when he tells me his name. I realize there are going to be a lot of people I meet in my lifetime with that name, but it will always affect me the same every time. I know the look on my face will only confuse him so I don’t bother to turn around and finish our conversation. Instead, I walk into the classroom and take a seat in the back corner, away from the questioning stares.

  I find myself in the library again at lunch. I know I should at least eat in the lunchroom like I have some level of social skills. Blending in is becoming harder than I planned. I’ve purposely chosen to dress in a way that screams “stay away” but it doesn’t seem to be working. I haven’t attempted to engage even a single person in conversation, except Cam who actually engaged me.

&nb
sp; I’m starting to think the mystery surrounding me is what’s causing everyone to be so freaking interested. That was not my plan. I have no desire to have any type of connection with anyone if I am going to up and leave again at the drop of a hat. My heart won’t be able to handle it this time.

  So I sit, in between the stacks and stacks of books which bring me so much peace, and eat my turkey sandwich and try to decide how I’m going to handle this. I can’t exactly go from pretending to be an outcast to pretending to be Suzy-fucking-sunshine in a day. It won’t work and that’s not who I want to be anymore anyway.

  Grrr! This is driving me crazy. I hate my life. Why can’t everything just go back to the way it was before? Why can’t I erase the last six months of my life and start again? This is complete bullshit and unnecessary and I’m sick of it. Maybe I need to talk to my mom about it?

  That won’t do any good. She has no control over anything right now. She probably feels more helpless and alone right now than I do. This fucking sucks!

  “What did that bag ever do to you?”

  I look up and Cam is watching me intently. I feel my heart rate pick up and my stomach starts to do a little dance. He is so damn hot. Why does he have to be so damn hot?

  “Wwwhat?” I stutter.

  He points to my hands which have twisted and ripped my brown paper lunch sack in half. I must have been doing that while I was fighting inside my head. It’s a good thing I wasn’t holding something important like one of my textbooks.

  “Oh. What are you doing in here?” I needed to change the subject before he started asking more questions.

  “I was looking for you.” He says without a trace of hesitation in his voice. “I was wondering if you applied for that job at Montgomery’s or not?”

  “Um… yeah I applied on Saturday night but I haven’t heard anything back yet. I figured I would go back to Babette’s today and see if she still needs any help.”

  Why am I telling him all of this?

  “Okay. I can give you a ride downtown. Meet me in the parking lot after school.”

  I’m so shocked at what he says that I don’t have a chance to regain my composure and object before he walks away. Now what? Does he expect me to just meet him in the parking lot, accept a ride from a stranger and act like it’s no big deal? No freaking way!

  I make it through the rest of the afternoon and then bolt to where the busses are as soon as the last bell rings so that I don’t change my mind. Cam will just complicate things for me. There is no way I can get involved with him. It’s hard enough thinking his name in my head, let alone saying it out loud, which I’ve managed to avoid so far.

  Damn this guy is good! He’s standing next to my bus with a knowing look on his face. I’m not sure if I’m excited to see him or scared by the fact he knew I wouldn’t meet him in the parking lot. I figure it’s a little of both.

  Now what, though? I see him. He sees me. We’re having another one of our intense staring contests from across the sidewalk. Who’s going to give in? Do I want him to give in?

  I sigh and start walking towards him. I know he’s not going to give in and as determined as I am to not make friends, I’m afraid I’ve already made one. He sure is persistent.

  “Fine,” I say when he’s within earshot. “I’ll take a ride.”

  A smug smile forms on his face as he turns and heads toward the student parking lot, watching closely to make sure I’m following him. We keep walking, all the way to the back of the lot, and I’m beginning to think this was a huge mistake when I realize why. He parked his car way back here because he didn’t want any other idiots to park next to him. I use to do the same thing and trek it almost a half mile, in heels, to get to the school. My car was my baby, though, so I didn’t care.

  His car is a direct reflection of his personality. I want to say cocky, but that’s really not the way he comes off. He’s more confident than anything else, overly confident at times. His car is definitely overly confident.

  Vintage Mustang. Probably early to mid-seventies. Mint condition. The red is almost the same rich color of my walls. The black racing stripe is the only decal on the entire car. I am in love with this car.

  He unlocks it when we’re a few feet away. The chirping sound of his alarm causes me to jump. I try to shake it off and look over to see if he noticed how on edge I was. He either noticed or that smug smile was permanently plastered on his face.

  I sink into the leather passenger seat and reach for my seat belt while he gets in on the driver’s side. We still haven’t spoken and the tension in the car is growing. I can feel the heat coming from his body. His musky, yet clean scent is filling my senses and I’m starting to feel a little overwhelmed by him. I have to say something, anything, or else I might combust.

  “Thanks for the ride. You have a nice car.” Lame. That’s the best I can come up with? Nice car?

  “It has wheels and takes me from point A to point B so I’m happy with it.” This is obviously a sore subject. It sounded like he was holding back some deep seeded anger. I recognized the lying game he was playing. I play it all the time.

  I decide not to dig deeper knowing it could end up backfiring on me if I wasn’t careful. Best not to beat a dead horse anyway. If he wanted to share information with me then he would. If not, that’s fine too. I don’t plan on sharing with him.

  We’re both quiet the entire ride to Babette’s. It’s not far from the high school, but it feels like it takes an eternity to get there. I find my hands are starting to fidget so I clasp them together in my lap. When he pulls up outside the bookstore I grab my stuff from between my legs on the floorboard and jump out of the car, thanking him quickly as I shut the door behind me.

  I hear him shut his car off and get out, but I’m already in the store and heading for the counter so I don’t look back. I straighten my appearance and let my hair down as I walk through the store, forgetting that with my “new look” it was probably best to keep my hair pulled back.

  I’m guessing the lady at the counter is Babette. I introduce myself and ask about the position. She leads me to an area filled with love seats and we sit and chat for a while. I think everything is going well until we are about to wrap up. Her demeanor changes and suddenly she is pushing me out the door, thanking me for my time but telling me she doesn’t think I would be the best fit for the job.

  What? Was is the hair? Is a pink streak that big of a deal? I can always dye it back. I want to ask, but she’s ushering me out the front door and turning the sign to Closed behind me. WTF?

  I’m fuming by this point. I have never been treated so rudely by anyone and for no reason. It felt like the job was going to work out. I was enjoying our conversation. I was enjoying the smell of the store and all the quirky things I was noticing. It was low key. That was really important.

  Damn it!

  I don’t realize I say it aloud until I hear him clear his throat. Why is he still here?

  “Hey,” I say awkwardly, making eye contact with him. Bad idea. Those eyes…

  “Hey. Need a lift?”

  “Um… no. I think I’ll walk home from here, thanks.” I didn’t want him to know where we lived and I think that dawned on him the second the words came out of my mouth. Way to go, Cam. You are more perceptive than I gave you credit for.

  He was about to respond when my phone chimed. I broke eye contact to rifle through my purse for my phone. When I finally found it I realized I had received an email. Who was emailing me? No one had that email address except…

  My eyes light up with excitement. Before I realize what’s happening, Cam is standing in front of me, his hands on my hips, looking down at my phone to see what’s caused me to smile. I shiver the second he touches me and our eyes meet.

  This is one of those moments when a girl knows she’s going to be kissed. I can see it in his eyes. He’s thinking about it. Truthfully, so am I. I want him to kiss me for some reason but I don’t let him. I pull away and take a few steps back puttin
g the distance between us that I need right now. A kiss from him will only complicate things. I don’t want complicated right now. I can’t handle complicated.

  Cam

  I wanted to kiss her. Damn, that was all I could think about. I could see that she wanted me to. I shouldn’t have hesitated. I gave her time to think about it and she stepped back. Now, I’m watching her walk away from me, again, and all I can think about are her lips.

  I get in my car and immediately call my mom to thank her. She made sure Kat’s application was approved and sent on to the interview phase for me. It only took a few minutes but in those few minutes, it looked like Babette was going to offer her a job. I hadn’t wanted to step in, but it was the only way I could make sure she didn’t get the job.

  It only took one look and a swift shake of my head to make Babette back off right away. Sometimes it’s good to have a little pull in this town, even if it is because of my last name.

  My name. I knew I hadn’t shared it with Kat and I knew she would eventually ask. I didn’t want her to connect me to the resort before she agreed to the job. If she found out that I was behind her getting the job she would probably refuse it. I needed a reason to see her outside of school. I needed her to get that job. Hopefully, my dad would go easy on her during her interview.

  The first thing I do when I get home is thank my mom again. She has a knowing look in her eyes and before she can start to ask me anything, I offer up the information. It’s the least I can do since she pulled through for me after my dad obviously forgot.

  “She’s just a friend, mom. For now anyway.”

  “Really? I don’t remember you working this hard to get Betsy the job when you two were dating. What’s so special about this girl?”

  “First,” I say, trying to push the anger back. “I don’t ever want to talk about Betsy again. Just hearing her name makes me want to punch something, mainly her, and I can’t do that. Second, I have no idea what’s so special about this girl. I have no clue who she is but, I want to. I want to know everything about her.”

 

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