Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Good.”

  My eyes flutter shut, and the last thing I hear before I pass out is, “Sleep, Lake. Just sleep.”

  Chapter 16

  The car jolts forcing my eyes open. The sun is still out, but its dimming, making me think it’s mid afternoon. I remember Ryder briefly helping me into the car after Mike’s confession. I still want to yell at Ryder for everything, but the things Mike said drained me of all my energy. Every piece of new information is like taking a knife to my perfectly quiet life. Mike claims he’d been dating Felicia, and worse, that she had feelings for me.

  I honestly don’t know how I feel about that. It’s hard to believe from the way she treated me, and what’s worse is the way she made fun of me. I can’t help but think it’s all lies. I feel bad for Mike. He had feelings for Felicia, and she was just using him. Maybe her calling my name out in her sleep was a part of that.

  I quickly glance at my cellphone. It only has ten percent battery left, but that isn’t my chief concern. Dad hasn’t sent me any messages all day. He must be too busy to check if I’m home yet. I thought that thinking Ryder and I are dating would make him the least bit worried. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I close my eyes again.

  My life was fine before Felicia died. She wasn’t a good person. She only found out about my mom’s murder when she was looking for more info to blackmail the sheriff. Though, I wonder why. Knowing he was screwing a teenage girl would be enough. Even after Mike’s admission, I still think it’s spiteful for her to try to bring me into all this. Not to mention, her connection with my aunt, and Jessica’s suspicion. It’s too much.

  The passenger door opens, and I flinch. Ryder stands there with his hand out for me to take. His hair is partially dry thanks to the heater in his car, but its flat. His clothing is still damp, as is mine, but I’m warmer than I expect. I’m surprised by his gloomy expression. You’d think he’s the one going through all this turmoil. Sure, he’s been through the ringer, too. Finding out your dad is a pervert is definitely horrifying. I feel for him. After all the time I’ve spent with him, Ryder’s never looked this bad. His hair looks like it’s been pulled every which way due to frustration. There are creases on his forehead that make him look years older, not that it’s a bad thing. Ryder looks good no matter what he’s doing. He watches me with concern. I don’t know if it’s because he’s worried, or if he pities me. Our fight is still on my mind.

  I have second thoughts about taking his hand, but decide I’ll do it anyway. When my hand grabs ahold of his, he gives me a squeeze. “Thanks,” I say. My throat’s thick and my mouth is dry. My voice is rough and husky due vomiting, shouting, and crying.

  “Of course.” He pulls me from the car and then shuts the door. Hand in hand, we walk to the house. I assume it’s his own place. I’ve never been here before—not that I’ve ever had a reason to go to the Frost family home.

  I never imagined it would look like this. It’s on a cul-de-sac with one-story houses that all have large front yards. This is the older part of town, where the houses look like they’ve been cherished and lived in, rather than the richer, more modern part of town. It looks like the kind of place you’d want to raise a family. The house in front of me has a large oak tree in the front with a tire swing attached to it. The exterior is painted white, with blue shutters lining the windows. The best words to describe it are “quaint and cozy.” Leading up to the front door is a red brick path with little white daisies along the sides. Ryder sighs as he unlocks the ruby red front door. “Welcome to Che Frost. Please leave your shoes by the door.”

  He takes his shoes off, and I follow suit without a word.

  “Is anyone home?” I try to keep my voice down.

  “Dad is probably at the station. Most of the time he sleeps on the couch in his office. My mom takes a nap from one in the afternoon until five at night. Then, she works in the garden until six thirty, when the sun goes down. I’ll take you home before she wakes up from her nap.”

  “What time is it now?” I ask.

  “Two-thirty.” Jeez, the day has really flown by.

  “I’ve never heard of a grown woman having a nap time,” I say, but instantly regret it when Ryder tenses.

  He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he walks farther into the house. I follow, not knowing what else to do.

  The walls are a pale yellow, and the floors are light wood. I don’t understand why I have to take my shoes off when it’s all wooden floors, but I don’t want to seem rude by asking a bunch of questions I’m sure Ryder won’t answer.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks as we step into the kitchen. The walls are the same pale yellow, like the rest of the house, but the floors are a brownish-orange stone. The room is spotless, with stainless-steel appliances that look brand new. Even the dark granite countertops are spotless.

  “Not really.” Even though I’ve barely eaten today, I can’t bring myself to even think of food. “I am a bit thirsty.”

  He opens the refrigerator and takes out two bottles of water. He hands me one, and I chug it. The liquid is icy and cool and it soothes my throat. I can’t get enough as I drink it all without stopping.

  Ryder watches me with an amused expression on his face until I finish. He opens his water and does the same thing. I can’t help but roll my eyes at him.

  Though I’ve never imagined Ryder’s house before, this is definitely far from anything I could have come up with. I realize at that moment that I don’t know Ryder that well. Though I think he’s a bully, he hasn’t necessarily been mean to me once in the last few days. He seems almost protective. He’s excelled at the role of perfect, attentive, loving fake boyfriend. He seems to know more about me than I realize. Yet, I don’t know his favorite band, food, or even book. I didn’t even know he was planning on going to college until his dad mentioned it before. Just a few days ago, I would have thought he planned to go to the same school as me to continue to bully me, but I can’t help but feel it has nothing to do with teasing me.

  There’s so much information that’s been thrown at me over the last few days that I’m thoroughly confused. My mom isn’t the only person I’m mad at. My father’s on a shit list, too. Though he’s a good dad, he lied to me for years. I don’t know whether to be mad or sad about it. Why would he try to make Mom out to be a good person when really, she was nothing but a liar and a whore? Not to mention, does he even know what Aunt Dorothy does? Part of me still wants to believe Mom wasn’t as horrible as my mind is making her out to be. Another part of me fears the truth is even worse than I thought. All it does is make me hate Felicia even more.

  “Lake?” Ryder says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “What?” My voice is small.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” he says with the fridge door still open. I stalk toward him and glance inside. Though the kitchen looks like it’s barely been used, from the orderly refrigerator packed with tons of containers full of homemade food, someone is probably just good at compulsively cleaning.

  I don’t think it’s right to even touch any of the food. I glance back at Ryder, and when our eyes meet, he relaxes. He looks at me with a concerned expression that I know is sincere. Maybe Ryder really does have true feelings for me that aren’t just about tormenting and teasing. Part of me warns myself that I shouldn’t toy with the idea. Ryder’s not my friend. But another part of me, the part that’s broken and confused, wants someone to rely on, and Ryder is doing a hell of a good job. I think about all we’ve been through and how kind and gentle he’s been through everything. My mind wanders to the kiss we shared just hours ago. My face heats.

  I shake my head and step back. “I’d like to change and lie down.”

  He nods and throws the empty bottles into the recycling bin next to the counter. “I’ll get you something to wear. If you want to take a nap you can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”

  “T
hat isn’t necessary,” I state. The very idea of being in Ryder’s bedroom makes my heart race.

  “I think it’s for the best.” He sounds defeated. I guessed by running from him, I’ve hurt his feelings more than I’ve ever imagined I could.

  He doesn’t waste another second and heads down the hallway, to the opposite side of the house. I follow. Its eerily quiet, and that’s saying something, since it normally feels like I live alone. Ryder opens the door to his bedroom, and I’m shocked at the sight of it. If I ever imagined Ryder’s bedroom—which I haven’t—I wouldn’t have expected blue flannel sheets, bare walls, a dresser, a desk with a fancy laptop on it, and a bookshelf with nothing but mystery novels lining the shelves. They’re even in alphabetical order by the author’s names. They’re all well-loved paperbacks, except for one. It’s a large collector’s volume of Sherlock Holmes that’s faced forward, revealing the classic-looking binding. That’s probably the only thing in the whole room that isn’t completely ordinary. Nothing else shows off his personality or his interests, other than his love for mystery novels. He has said he wants to write mystery novels. I thought it was a joke, but in reality, he really does seem to want to solve mysteries. The questions I want answered about his general interests are never going to be answered from this room alone. If I want to know his favorite color or band, I’m just going to have to ask him.

  “You can brush your teeth with my toothbrush. It’s brand new. I opened it this morning and haven’t used it yet,” he says as he points to his bathroom. I nod and quickly walk into the bathroom, picking up his blue toothbrush. The bathroom is immaculate and looks like something from a hotel room. There are a couple sinks and a large bathtub with a shower curtain covered in dolphins. It’s cute. I didn’t expect that, either. A lot of things about Ryder are shocking me. I take one look at myself in the mirror and groan. My hair is slightly dried and frizzing and thankfully I didn’t wear much makeup, but the mascara I wore dried after it ran down my face to my chin. I squeeze minty toothpaste onto his new toothbrush and rinse it quickly before I brush my teeth, hard. I don’t normally do that, but my nerves are getting the best of me. I spit and then gargle. I feel at least a little refreshed. I throw the toothbrush in the trash, not thinking he’ll want to brush his teeth with my dirty toothbrush. Then, I use his face wash to wash my face. I scrub softly and then splash water onto my skin. My skin is now clear but there are circles under my eyes and my skin is paler than it normally is. I use a hand towel next to the sink. I grab his hairbrush and thrust it through my knotting hair, attempting to tame it. It’s straighter than before but fluffy. Fuck.

  Once I step back into the room, Ryder is over at the dresser. He’s going through the drawer, pushing things aside looking for something. He finally pulls out a large flannel shirt and sweatpants that will no doubt be too long on me, even if I pull it up past my chest.

  He notices me and holds out the clothing for me to take. “They’ll be big but comfortable.”

  I nod. I want to ask so many questions, but I don’t know what to ask first. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re a fan of mystery novels.”

  “I love solving puzzles. A great mystery is the best puzzle to solve.”

  “Is that why you want to find out who killed Felicia? To solve a real puzzle.”

  He shrugs. When he hands me the clothing, our eyes meet. His are hypnotizing. I thought they were just a vibrant gray, but then notice specks of powder blue around the irises. I reach for the clothes, and our fingers brush each other. Like a zap of lightening, I flinch away, accidentally dropping the clothes onto the floor. I bend to pick them up, but he’s faster. He hands them back to me, this time not letting our eyes meet. I take the clothes and hold them to my chest. My face burns with embarrassment.

  “Thank you,” I say. I chance a glance at him and notice his eyes burning into my face. “What?”

  “I’m just having trouble figuring out what you’re thinking. You ran from me back there, but then came with me willingly. I don’t know what Mike said, but I’m wondering whether I should thank him or punch him.”

  “I’m trying not to think of anything,” I say. I don’t need Ryder to know he’s consuming my thoughts.

  “I figured, but that’s not going to solve any problems. I know you’re upset about your mom and feel betrayed by me, but I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it to protect you. I want you to trust me. I know it’s hard, especially now, but I care about you, Lake. I want to help you find out what happened to them. Ever since the fifth grade when I found you on that field waiting for me, I wanted to be with you. But I was too scared to say anything because I was a shitty little ten-year-old boy.” He shoves his hand through his hair, frustrated. “I was nervous. I messed up that day, and I couldn’t take it back. You hated me. But for years, I regretted never telling you the truth. I imagined that, even though we were just kids, if I had played my cards right we’d still be together because I could never stop feeling this way about you. I knew it had nothing to do with wanting what you can’t have, which is what all my friends would say.”

  Ryder looks me right in the eye and says, “Everything you did, I noticed. It made me like you even more.”

  My face heats as he continues. “I could never touch Felicia because you hated her more than you hated me. I never wanted to. I may have fooled around with other girls, but I did it to try and forget about you. It never worked. What you thought was torment was my own torment. I couldn’t let anyone else have you. I was selfish and cruel. I wanted you all to myself, and yet I couldn’t have you. I didn’t like that I could only get your attention by teasing you. But it was the only thing I could do to get your attention at all.” He put his tongue in his cheek for a moment as though thinking and then says, “If I screwed Felicia, her stepmother, or even went farther than just kissing Jessica, I would never have any chance of being with you. I knew it was a lost cause, but I could never give you up.”

  His gaze strays from mine and he looks at the floor, a little bashfully. “When you got interested in a college, I applied there because I wanted to be with you. I know I sound like a fucking stalker, but I thought maybe if we were away from here, I’d be able to approach you.”

  There’s a tightness in my chest I’ve never had before. I can barely breathe as he continues.

  “I love you, Lake. I love you. And I know you don’t love me, but—”

  I don’t know what comes over me at this point. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe I’m emotionally spent. But in this moment, I can’t help but want to comfort him, the boy who’s done everything over the last few days to help me. Though he has his own reasons to hate Felicia, he’s searching for her killer because he loves me. I’ve never been loved by anyone but my family before. I’ve never loved anyone but them. But Ryder. I know I don’t love him, but I don’t not love him, either. I’ve hated him for years, and that can’t just disappear overnight, but my feelings for him are morphing into something that terrifies and excites me at the same time. It’s a feeling that warms my body and makes my legs feel like jelly. It’s a feeling that makes my heart race.

  I step toward him. He doesn’t move; he just watches me with burning eyes. Once I’m close enough, I fist my hands into his shirt and pull him down to me. His breath is hot against my face. “Ryder.” I whisper his name, but it comes out more like a moan. My body is tense and taut and my heart throbs with anticipation.

  He takes in a deep breath and shuts his eyes. “Lake …”

  My own eyes flutter shut and my senses are on overdrive. His body radiates heat that makes my stomach flutter, and his spicy cologne makes my body weak. I gently press my lips to his. The softness of the kiss only lasts a few moments before he’s kissing me back, his arms wrapping around my waist and mine around his neck. I pull him into me, kissing him harder than ever before. He groans into my mouth, and I slightly open one eye to peek at him. His eyes are still closed. I
notice just how long his eyelashes are, how dark they are, too, black as midnight. He deepens the kiss, tickling his tongue against my lips, and I open to him. He walks me back until he has me pinned against the wall.

  He consumes my mouth like he’s being put to death and I’m his last meal. I don’t want it to stop. I moan as he gently sucks on my tongue.

  Abruptly, he pulls away from me. I feel chilly, like all the warmth of my body has been taken away. My eyes open and crash into his, which look like melting silver.

  “I’ve wanted this for so long, Lake,” he breathes.

  “We’ve already kissed before.” My voice is soft.

  “Not like this. I want you to want me just as much as I want you.”

  I take in a deep breath, and then decide to let everything go. “I don’t know when it happened, but I know I like you more than I should,” I admit. “I know I trust you more than I should, too.” With shaky hands, I grab the hem of his shirt. I’ve never done this kind of thing before, but being with him, even though so little time has passed, just feels right.

  “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says in a husky tone.

  I don’t say another word. I just tug his shirt over his head.

  I haven’t seen many guys half naked before, especially not one up close. Ryder’s upper body is sculpted with abs for days. His light skin is slightly tanner than I realize. My hands go to his abs and rest there, caressing the ridges. His lean muscles tense at my touch. Ryder may not be perfect, but at that moment, he’s perfect for me.

  “Can I …,” he inquires, toying with the hem of my own shirt.

  I understand now why girls bite their lips, I really do. I softly nod. I’m nervous, nervous about what he’s going to see. I don’t think it’s weird for any girl to feel self-conscious about their body at a time like this. No, in actuality, I’m consumed with thoughts of how I gorge myself on food most days, though not today. I try to hide my body as much as possible, but I know he saw his fill when I wore barely anything at the lingerie store. What I wore there was made to make me look good. If he sees all of me now, I doubt he’ll have the same lustful look in his eye. This time, he won’t just be looking, at least I imagine. He pulls my shirt over my head, and his eyes rove over every inch of me. I have a big chest, and though some envy me, most make me feel like it’s all fat, rather than due to genetics. I hate thinking of how he’s been with thinner girls and women. I try to cover my stomach up with my hands, but he grabs my wrists and pulls them away.