Good Girls Stay Quiet

by Jo Cassidy

  My eyes widened. "He didn't see you, did he?"

  He picked at one of the Band-Aids on his fingers. "Nope. I made sure to wait until he was gone before I ran inside. I had a friend in elementary school who had an angry father like yours. I know the drill."

  “What happened to them?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

  Brendon took a deep breath and continued to pick at his Band-Aid. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “They moved. I never heard from him again.”

  The pack of gel pens that Brendon had given me fell out of my backpack, so I stooped over to pick them up.

  "Cora!" His fingers grazed my bare skin along my lower back. My shirt had ridden up from me bending over.

  I quickly pulled down my shirt, covering up my scars. "It's nothing. It’s from an accident long ago."

  He lifted my shirt in the back and swore under his breath. "Did he do this to you?"

  I slapped his hand away. "It's none of your business."

  He leaned toward me. "He can't do that to you. If he did, you need to report him."

  My hand landed on Brendon's. "The scars aren’t from him. They’re from an accident. Long ago. Like I said."

  He placed his other hand on top of mine. "It's not safe being with him. I know you love him, but the way he treats you is wrong."

  "I didn't know loving me was wrong." I stared at him, forcing myself to stay calm and steady. Trembling would be a sign of weakness.

  "I'm not saying he doesn't love you." Brendon paused, staring at our clasped hands. "He just rubs me the wrong way."

  I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on tight. "Forget I said anything. I'm okay. I'm safe. You have nothing to worry about."

  "I have to hand it to you, Cora." He let go of my hand and finally looked me in the eye. "You're a good liar."

  "I've had years of practice," I whispered. I had a feeling that no matter what I said, he wouldn’t believe me. Had his friend fed him the same lies?

  Brendon’s worried eyes stared into mine. His hand reached for my braid, and he slowly trailed his finger along it. It was so much different than when Daddy did it. Then he moved his hand like he was going to place it on my cheek. Would it be rough like Daddy’s? Or soft to the touch? He was so close I could smell the spearmint in his mouth.

  Jenna sauntered up at the perfectly wrong moment and sat down across from us. Brendon quickly dropped his hand and sat back in his chair.

  "You're here," she said.

  I put on a smile. "I'm here."

  She plopped her French textbook on the table. "Good. Let's get this over with. There's a guy who works at the coffee shop across the street, and I want to leave plenty of time to flirt with him." She tapped her fingers on top of her book. "What's going on between you two? You're always leaned in close and whispering. Listen, I'm totally cool with the two of you hooking up. You don't need to be all secretive about it." She held up a hand. "Just don't make-out in front of me, okay? Unless you can find someone to make-out with me at the same time."

  Before I could say anything, someone else sat down at our table, his green eyes narrowed on me. Dalton from my history class. High up on Brendon's list of suspects. And mine. What he'd want with my journal, I couldn't figure out.

  "Hey, Cora," Dalton said. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  Jenna's eyes flickered between me, Dalton, and Brendon. "Oh, a love triangle." She rubbed her hands together. "This just got so much more interesting."

  Dalton glared at Jenna. "I'm not interested in Cora – I just want to talk to her." His eyes went to mine. "You have a minute?"

  I shook my head. "We're working on a school project, and we only have a limited amount of time." How had he known I was at the library? Had he been following me?

  "It’ll be quick," Dalton said. "Two minutes." He stood and motioned for me to join him. What would he want with me? Had he found my journal?

  "Why can't you talk to her in front of us?" Brendon asked, sitting up tall.

  Dalton frowned. "Because it's none of your business."

  Nerves crept in, settling into my stomach. It had to be the journal. What else would he want to talk about in secret?

  "It's okay," I said to Brendon. "I'll be right back."

  I followed Dalton into the reference section. He'd pulled me out of sight of Jenna and Brendon, making me wary.

  Dalton had his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I heard you wanted to learn to play the guitar."

  "What?" I leaned against the bookshelf. "Where did you hear that?" I couldn't remember telling anyone that. I did, however, write it in my journal. Either Dalton read it, or the person who stole it had told him.

  He shrugged. "Can't remember. Listen, I need to earn some money. I thought maybe I could give you some lessons for a small cost." He scratched behind his ears. "Maybe a couple times a week after school?"

  I held up my hand to cut him off. "Who told you I wanted to learn guitar?"

  "I can't remember."

  In the heat of the moment, fear and anger overtook me. I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close. "Dalton. How did you know I wanted to learn to play the guitar?" I didn’t know exactly what I’d do if I found out Dalton had my journal. All I knew was that I needed it back.

  He peeled my hands off his shirt. "What's your problem? I already told you twice I can't remember who said it. I just remember hearing it. But if you're going to act like this, never mind."

  "I . . .” I sucked in a sharp breath and stared at my hands. Where had that come from? The person who stole my journal was turning me into a crazy person. Or maybe I was turning into Daddy, which terrified me more. Dalton's tone had been genuine. He couldn't remember where he’d heard I wanted to play the guitar.

  I did want to learn, but there were too many problems with me taking lessons from him. "I don't have money." Also, Daddy would never let me take lessons, especially from a guy.

  He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "Of course. Just my luck."

  "What do you need money for?"

  "A trip to New York." He put his back against the shelf, his arm brushing against mine. He didn't even notice.

  I took a step away, creating a larger distance between us.

  "What if you sold your cell phone holders?" Jenna appeared next to us, her arms folded, sizing up Dalton. She turned her attention to me. "Everyone has been asking me where I got mine. You could make some money off that."

  "Do you have it with you?" Dalton asked.

  Jenna held up her arm, showing him the band. "Isn't it amazing? This girl has skills."

  "You still haven't made one for me." Brendon stood right next to me, resting his arm on the shelf behind me. He smiled brightly when I looked at him.

  I returned the smile. "I'm almost done with it. Be patient." I’d been slowly working on it at night, but I only had so much time from when Daddy locked me up and went to bed, and needing to get some sleep myself.

  Jenna slapped Brendon's arm. "Pretty sure Brendon has no idea what patience is."

  Dalton pointed to the arm band. "Do you have materials to make more?"

  "I have lots of paint." I stole it often. "Getting the plastic bottles and cloth shouldn't be too hard. Velcro might be difficult to get my hands on."

  Brendon bumped my arm. "I can help you with the bottles. We have tons at the restaurant. I'll tell everyone to save them instead of trashing them."

  "My mom went through this crazy sewing phase," Jenna said. "Pretty much bought out every fabric store in town. Once she actually bought a sewing machine and tried to use it, she gave up. So now we have boxes of fabric in the garage. Pretty sure there’s Velcro in there as well. I can bring it by your house."

  "That won't work," I said. My brain tried to think of a logical reason why she couldn't bring boxes to my house, but nothing came to mind.

  Jenna scrunched her eyebrows. "Why not?" Her tongue ran along her braces under her closed mouth.

  "Uh . . .” A bl
ank void filled my head.

  "Her dad is a total neat freak," Brendon said. "He doesn't like clutter. You can bring the boxes to my place, and I'll sneak her some fabric every day." He looked at me. "Will that work?"

  My natural smile spread across my face. "That’ll be perfect." I turned to Dalton. "I couldn't do lessons after school, though. Maybe during lunch?"

  Dalton sighed. "I guess that’ll have to work." His eyes travelled over me, pausing on my braid. "As long as we do it somewhere we won't have a lot of interruptions or an audience or anything."

  He didn't want to be seen with me. Typical, but it still stung. It shouldn't have bothered me. I should've been glad. I was supposed to stay off everyone's radar. I nodded. "That’ll work. I'll start making the bands tonight. Spread the word that I'm selling them."

  "Finish mine tonight so I can show it off.” Brendon pulled a ten from his wallet and handed it to me. "I'll even pay in advance."

  My wide eyes took in the bill in my palm. I'd never had money before. Daddy said I didn't need it. He provided me with everything I needed. The high didn't last long, though. Dalton snatched the ten from my hand.

  "This will cover our first lesson." Dalton tucked the money into his pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow during lunch. Meet me behind the gym." After I nodded, he took off.

  Jenna looked at her phone. "We're running out of time. Let's get started." She turned around and hurried toward the table, the usual sass in her walk gone.

  "I'm coming with you," Brendon said, giving my braid a little yank. I loved when he did that.

  My eyes narrowed. "With me where?"

  Brendon folded his arms. "To the guitar lessons. I'm not leaving you alone with the guy. I still think it's possible he's the one who took your journal."

  "He did know I wanted to learn how to play the guitar." I blushed. "I'd never told anyone that before."

  "You wrote it in your journal?"

  I nodded. My eyes kept wandering to his lips. He had a small freckle in the corner on his bottom lip. I’d never noticed it before.

  "I knew it." He swore under his breath. "I knew it was him."

  "We don't know it was him," I said, peeling my gaze from his lips. "He denied it."

  He smirked. "Of course he did. He's not going to own up to it."

  "For all we know, the person who stole it could have told him."

  "That's true." He took my hand and guided me back to the table.

  The warmth from his hand terrified me. To him, the gesture seemed so natural and easy. No big deal. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. To me, it sent my heart into overdrive. If Daddy came into the library and saw us holding hands, he'd kill Brendon and maybe me.

  Even though the fear overwhelmed me, I didn't want him to let go. I hadn’t felt that safe in the longest time, and I never wanted it to end.

  Chapter 15

  I'd stayed up late making the cell phone bands. I could only use what materials we had in the house so I couldn't make many. Brendon's was the first one done. Then I made one for Dalton, plus two others.

  Brendon had been waiting for me inside the front doors of the school in the morning. He had on a shirt that said, ‘Black Widow,’ and had an illustration of a beautiful, strong lady with red hair.

  He caught me staring. “Don’t be jealous. She’s fictional. Nothing can happen between me and her.” He sighed. “Unfortunately.”

  Hoping my cheeks weren’t flaring, I handed him his band. "Here you go."

  "This is amazing." He put the band on his arm and tucked his cell phone inside. His had swirls of red and blue, the tone vibrant and inviting. I'd tried to match his personality to the design. "Seriously, Cora, you're a talented genius. It's so . . . me." He surprised me by taking me into his arms and hugging me.

  Daddy had been the only guy to ever hug me that I could remember. Having someone else touch me so intimately created a bubble of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. My normal reaction would have been to run and hide, but the warmth overtook me and pushed the fear aside. If a hug could do that to me, what would a kiss do?

  When Brendon pulled back, his eyes were on the band. He had no idea what he did to me. All the feelings he stirred inside. It was wrong, yet wonderful.

  "Do you have any others?" he asked. "I have a couple friends who might be interested."

  "I could only make two others." My fist wrapped around Husky. My nerves wouldn’t settle. I’d never felt this way around a guy before. "Aside one for Dalton."

  He frowned. "You made one for Dalton? I don't remember him asking for one."

  The warmth of Brendon still lingered on my body, bouncing around. I soaked it all in. "I figured if he wore one during his performances, maybe people would ask about them and want to buy them."

  "That's a good idea," he said, but a faint frown remained on his lips.

  "Thank you. For saying you'll come with me to the lessons. I don't want to be alone with him." My finger twirled around Husky’s fur.

  His frown evaporated, replaced by a smile. "Of course. I’m happy to help."

  Letting go of Husky, I swallowed and decided to push Brendon lightly on the arm – something I’d seen Jenna do. His smile grew, expanding the warmth inside me. Was this how it felt to have a crush on someone? To like someone more than a friend? It was all so new to me. Uncharted territory that I didn't know how to navigate and certainly didn’t have the tools to do so. The terrain was dangerous and could cause me serious injury. It could only remain a crush, if that’s what it was. Maybe I could talk to Jenna during class. She would know. If I had the courage to bring it up.

  Between 3rd and 4th period, I sold another cell phone band to one of Brendon's friends, Jake. He turned the band over in his hands, his brown eyes wide in awe before he strapped the Velcro around his arm. A smirk suddenly landed on his thin lips. “So, this is the girl Brendon can’t stop talking about.”

  Brendon punched his friend on the arm. “Shut up.” The flare on his neck had to have matched mine. It practically scorched my skin.

  Jake rubbed his arm, laughing. “What? It’s true.” He grinned at me. “We should all hang out sometime. I gotta see what the fuss is all about.”

  Brendon shoved him in the chest, his face almost as red as his hair. “Seriously, man, stop.” He turned apologetic eyes to me. “Sorry. Jake just says whatever’s on his mind. You can ignore him.”

  Sweat broke out on my forehead from the heat wave inside. I fumbled to put my backpack back on. “I’ll see you later, Brendon.” I hurried away before Jake could say anything else. My quick feet screeched across the linoleum as I stumbled, but I kept on going, not looking back until I arrived in history. I took a minute to calm down, hoping the red would fade from my skin.

  Brendon talked about me to his friends. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying. I needed to think about something else before I broke out in another sweat.

  I glanced over at Dalton next to me and handed him a band.

  "It’ll only cost you a lesson," I said. I smiled as his eyes lit up in excitement. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen from him.

  Dalton slid the band on his arm. I'd used yellow, black, and orange for him. The band emoted a mysterious vibe, slightly arrogant, yet quiet.

  "These are pretty cool." He took his cell phone out of his pocket and tucked it inside.

  "What is that?" Julien asked, taking a seat. "That design is freaking awesome."

  "It's a band to hold your cell phone." I pulled one out of my backpack.

  Julien took it from my hand and put it on his arm. "Not sure if I'm digging all the pink and purple. Love it, though. You have any others like Dalton's?"

  "I'll be making more soon." I motioned to the band, and Julien handed it back. "I'll let you know when they're available to buy."

  He pointed to the lightning design shaved into the sides of his hair. “Can you do something like this?”

  “Sure.”

  Sydney snatched the band out of my hand. "
This is adorable. What's it for?"

  I pointed at her phone that she had permanently glued to her hands. "A safe place to tuck your cell during class. Easy access, but harder for someone else to take it from you." I got a blank piece of paper from my backpack and drew Julien’s design so I could remember it.

  Sydney placed the band on her arm, still holding her cell in her hand. "How much?"

  "Ten."

  Sydney reached into her backpack and fished around for a minute. She pulled out a five and set it on my desk. "Hold on." A search of her pockets resulted in three more dollars. "I'll bring the rest tomorrow. Is that cool?"

  "Sure." I put the money into my backpack. I knew the money would be going to Dalton for the lessons, but it was a treasure to me if only for a fleeting moment.

  Sydney took a picture of the band on her arm, and then typed furiously on her phone. She slid her phone into the band and smiled, flexing her hand as she did. She placed her empty hands on the desk, then set them on her lap under the table. She had no idea what to do with her hands without a phone in them. I held in an eye roll. I found it odd that so many students at my school were attached to a small, material item.

  During lunch, Brendon and I went behind the gym and found Dalton waiting for us. I’d hoped Brendon would hold my hand again, but he kept his hands in his pockets on the walk over.

  Dalton strummed a song I didn't know, which wasn't difficult. Daddy listened to classical music, and sometimes sixties music when he was in a particularly good mood. "I forgot to ask you what artists you like." Dalton rested his arm on his black acoustic guitar. The dark blue strap hung loosely around his back. "It might be easier to start with something you know."

  I tried to think of a song. Anything. Closing my eyes for a moment, I thought back to my childhood and my neighbor who played the guitar. He loved Journey and would play their songs for me all the time.

  "Do you know Don't Stop Believing?" I asked, opening my eyes.

  Dalton raised his eyebrows. "The Journey song?"

  Brendon smiled at me. "That's a great song. A classic."