The Secrets We Keep

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The Secrets We Keep Page 19

by Trisha Leaver


  “Let me take you home. We can talk about this there.”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Not anymore.

  “Nobody expects you to be the same Maddy.”

  “I expected it, Alex. I tried, I really did. For you, for my parents, for everyone, I tried.” I took out the original drawing I’d made of Maddy three years ago and handed it to him. I’d looked for a half hour the other day before I finally found it underneath a pile of old Barbie dolls in my closet. “It’s not very good, but it’s yours.”

  His eyes scanned mine for some sort of explanation. I swallowed hard and counted to three, then told him the truth. “I can’t be her anymore. It hurts too much to be her. I don’t want to spend my days trying to dress and act and talk like my sister. I want to spend them remembering her illogical hatred of my dog and her love of lavender-scented shampoo. I want to cry for her, miss her, and I want everyone to know just how much Maddy being gone hurts, does that make sense?”

  He shook his head, the shocking knowledge of what I was saying finally settling in as he whispered my name. “Ella?”

  I nodded and took a quick look at Jenna. She had her hand on Alex’s arm as if somehow it was her support he needed. “She’s right. You deserve better than I can give you.”

  Jenna’s grin widened at my comment and she moved in closer to Alex, as if telling me who owned him now.

  “I know you think Jenna is what you want. What you need,” I continued. “But she’s not. Trust me, she’ll take everything good in you and destroy it and Maddy wouldn’t want that.”

  “How dare you—” Jenna began to argue, no doubt to tell me how pathetic and wrong I was.

  I cut her off. “You, I have nothing to say to. You’re cold and calculating and not worth my time.”

  I walked away, relieved that I was almost done. Molly sat there watching me, her smile genuine. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she said.

  I nodded. It felt great to finally tell the truth, to lay into Jenna after years of listening to her belittle me. “But it is you I owe the biggest apology to.”

  “No you don’t. I get why you kept your distance.” Molly kicked the chair out across from her and motioned for me to sit down. “But none of that matters now.”

  I slid the chair back in and watched as the hope slowly drained from her face. She had thought I was going to sit down and be her friend, forget about the other end of the table and stick with her. I would’ve had I not already made up my mind.

  “There is a seat at that table if ever you want it,” I said as I pointed to the table Josh and I always sat at. “I know it won’t make up for what happened to you last year, but I thought perhaps some real friends and an apology would be a start.”

  She looked confused. “I don’t understand,” Molly said.

  “I didn’t either until last night. You were up for the co-captain spot on the field hockey team. You were good, probably better than Maddy. The other spot was going to—”

  “Jenna,” she said, finishing my sentence.

  “If you were hungover or sick, then you’d miss the mandatory Sunday practice and probably lose your chance of being co-captain. At the very least, you’d play like crap for the first quarter and then Coach would have no choice but to pull you out.”

  Her eyes darted between me and Jenna, and I swear I saw a flash of understanding in her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Maddy slipped something into your drink that Saturday night. She was trying to make you sick, figured you wouldn’t be able to make practice the next day. I don’t think she ever imagined they’d test the team, I can’t believe my sister—”

  She was staring at me as if I were a stranger, as if the words pouring out of my mouth were somehow not mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that doesn’t even begin to make up for what happened to you, but I don’t know what else to say. Don’t know how to make it right.”

  Molly shook her head, a look of complete disbelief clouding her expression. “I don’t get it. You, I mean Maddy, talked to me at the party before she left, told me she’d pick me up early the next day so we could go check out Lincoln High’s sweeper, that she was one of the best in the state and if we could figure out her weakness, then we’d have the upper hand.”

  “She still is,” I said. I knew exactly what girl Molly was referring to. Maddy had idolized her, talked about her constantly during field hockey season, how she wished she had half that girl’s skills. “Except now she plays for Boston College, not Lincoln High.”

  Somehow what I was saying finally clicked and she stood up, her chair falling to the floor behind her as she leaned across the table so her face was mere inches from mine. “Who else knew?” Her voice came out in a shudder, like the words were stuck there and had to be shaken free. “Who else knew that she drugged me?”

  I saw Alex make a move toward me, Jenna dropping into the chair behind him. Alex had nothing to be afraid of. He’d had no part in this. In fact, he’d tried to talk my sister out of it for days. And as for Jenna, she still wasn’t worth the effort.

  “Nobody,” I said, and I swear I heard a collective sigh of relief. “No one else knew. But I’m sorry. My sister was, too, and I wanted you to know that.”

  Molly fell forward onto the table, her hands bracing herself at either side of her head as she fought to fully understand the weight of what I’d unloaded on her.

  “Here,” I said as I dropped the letter to the table. I’d written it last night in front of Josh’s house. It explained what my sister had done to Molly and why. I went so far as to say it was Maddy and Maddy alone who had concocted the crazy plan. Not for Jenna’s sake—God knows I didn’t care about her—but for Alex’s. Jenna would surely try to implicate him. I didn’t want to destroy his chances at playing college soccer like Maddy had destroyed Molly’s chances of playing college field hockey.

  I’d signed my sister’s name to the confession, then dated it the day before the accident. I understood the pain and guilt Maddy had been carrying around, her desire to tell the truth, and the fear that came along with that. This was my way of giving her the forgiveness and the sense of peace I was still struggling to find, of letting her apologize to Molly the way I knew she’d wanted to … like she had planned to. Plus, I hoped Molly could use it to get into college, maybe explain to the scouts why they needed to take a second look at her.

  “I don’t know if it will help, but it’s spelled out there for everybody to see. What Maddy did to you was unforgivable, and I think she knew that. I think that was what she was trying to tell you that night at the party.” The last night any of us saw her alive, I silently added. “But I am sorry for lying to you, for lying to everybody.”

  I turned and walked through the doors, intent on making it out of the cafeteria and out of the school before I lost the courage to come clean to my parents.

  I wasn’t more than a few steps out the door when the cafeteria erupted into chaos, everybody talking and reaching for their phones. In less than a few seconds, everything I had said would be broadcast to the world, uploaded and texted to everybody … including my parents.

  40

  There was a note tacked to the refrigerator. The handwriting was small and shaky, but I recognized it as Mom’s. She’d gone to the office with Dad. He had a few hours of work to catch up on before they had an appointment with a grief counselor. The address was written below the counselor’s name on the off chance that I wanted to join them. I wasn’t going. No counselor, no amount of framed diplomas on an office wall could get me out of the hole I’d dug. After that, they were going to get dinner. She said she’d call and let me know where they were going in case Alex and I wanted to join them after the game. I didn’t.

  I looked at the clock on the microwave—it was 1:00. I’d never been to a shrink before, but I presumed my parents would be there awhile. They had a lot of stuff to hash out, stuff that was mainly my fault. My guess was they’d last about an hour, mayb
e more if Mom cried. That gave me a couple of hours, at least, before I had to face them.

  I grabbed my phone and shut it off, going so far as to remove the battery from the back and shove the phone into the top drawer of my desk. I didn’t want to talk to anybody, at least not until I figured out exactly what I was going to say to my parents.

  I went into my own closet and pulled out my favorite pair of jeans, the ones that Josh and I used to draw on when we were bored in History class. Each character, each symbol, and each silly quote had a story attached to it. I wanted to wrap myself in those memories and carry them with me. The flannel shirt was one of Maddy’s. It was soft and well worn, something she used to wear on the weekends when she was lounging around. It had a lipstick smudge on the sleeve and still smelled like her—lavender and vanilla, and the tiniest hint of Alex’s cologne that always seemed to linger around her. The sweatshirt Josh gave me the other day was still hanging on the chair downstairs. I grabbed it and put it on, drawing an overly long sleeve to my nose and breathing in the familiar inky scent that was Josh.

  It felt good to surround myself with the warm scents of the two people I loved most, and without having to worry about my hair or makeup, I felt like regular old me. The only things missing were my sneakers and my sketchbook. I’d grab those in a minute.

  “Hey, Bailey,” I said as I ruffled his fur. “You recognized me from the start. Nobody else did but you.”

  He nuzzled my hand and rolled over, looking for me to scratch his belly. I reached for the box of treats Mom hadn’t moved from my nightstand. I hid the entire box underneath the comforter. If he could get at it, then they were his, my gift for making him suffer this past month without me. “I’ll see you in a little bit, buddy. You stay here and find your treats.”

  I left him there pawing through my bed and went back into Maddy’s room to grab my wallet. I stopped midstep when I saw a dress wrapped in clear plastic lying on the bed. There was an alteration slip attached with a pick-up date of today. No wonder I couldn’t find the dress Maddy had bought for the Snow Ball. She’d taken it to be fitted the week before she died.

  It was short and black, and there was a brand-new pair of heels sitting next to it. On top of the dress was a note from Mom instructing me to try it on in case it needed to be re-altered. I knew what she was getting at. I was thinner than before the accident, had been eating less.

  I put down the note and picked up the silver box next to the dress. Inside was a pair of diamond earrings and a matching pendant. I recognized them. Grammy had given them to my mom before she died.

  Maddy’s shoe box collection of memories was still in the closet, where I’d left it, the ones about Molly still tucked beneath the mattress. I reached to get them and pulled out every reference to Molly. I tore them into a million pieces and tossed them in the trash, then flushed the pills down the toilet. I never wanted Mom and Dad to find out what Maddy had done, never wanted their image of her tainted in any way. But that wasn’t in my hands anymore. That was up to Molly, and no matter what she decided to do with the information I’d handed her, I’d stand beside her, be the kind of friend she deserved.

  I walked into my parents’ room to leave them a note. Last time I was there, Mom had my drawings scattered across her floor. They were still there, but now stacked neatly on Dad’s nightstand. I sifted through them until I found my favorite. It was a drawing of the tire swing that hung in Josh’s backyard. The rope was tattered, the tire barely there, but I loved that swing.

  I turned the sketch over, my hands hovering over the blank page, unsure of what to write. A plain I’m sorry seemed too simplistic; the truth too complicated. What I finally settled on was this:

  I’m Ella

  I left the note on my parents’ bed, where I knew Mom would find it. She’d have questions for me when I got home, ones I had no idea how to answer. But I would, I would tell them everything and then pray they’d find a way to forgive me.

  There was no going back. I knew telling my parents I wasn’t Maddy would destroy them. Mom needed Maddy, not Ella … not the quiet, independent Ella who always shut them out. But I couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t get up every morning and fight to be someone I wasn’t, someone I’d never wanted to be.

  And Josh, well, I was pretty sure I’d messed that up. But at the end of the day, he had Kim. She was simple and loyal and tried so hard to please him. She could make him happy in a way I never could.

  41

  It was always cold and damp. No matter what day I came or what the sky looked like when I left the house, it always seemed to be cold and wet here. Maybe it was an omen. More likely just typical November weather in Rhode Island.

  The granite marker bearing my name glistened in the rain, like tiny jewels reflecting a light that wasn’t there. It reminded me of Maddy, of the bangles and sparkly accessories she always wore. Even in death, buried six feet below a tombstone engraved with the wrong name, she found a way to shine through, making this morbid place her own.

  I closed my eyes and counted to five before speaking the words I’d been holding back for so long. “I’m Ella. I’m not you. I never could be you. I never wanted to be you. I tried … for you, I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.”

  Relief and pain fought for control, those simple words a torturous reminder of what I’d done. Sighing, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the truth. That was what I wanted. That was what I’d been struggling to say since the second I realized I wasn’t my sister and never could be.

  “I. Am. Ella. Lawton.” I said it again, reveling in the sound of my own name, the sense of complete peace it brought.

  A warm hand grazed my shoulder, and I gasped. I’d thought I was alone, thought I had more time to practice my confession before I actually came clean to the rest of the world.

  “Hey, Ella,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, officially that is.”

  Molly held out her hand and I took it, not sure what else I was supposed to do. “I was telling the truth in the cafeteria. I’m really not Maddy,” I said, confused as to why she wasn’t angry with me, wasn’t calling me demented and insane for impersonating my dead sister.

  “I know. The entire school knows. You pretty much told them all in the cafeteria today.”

  “Why are you here? How did you know I was here?” I had expected Josh to come looking for me. He wasn’t in the cafeteria when I apologized to Molly and Alex, but I figured it wouldn’t have taken long for the news to reach him. I even secretly wished my parents would come find me once they got home and saw my note. But I never imagined it’d be Molly, the girl whose life my sister had nearly destroyed.

  “I wasn’t done talking to you in the cafeteria. You weren’t at home, so I asked Josh where he thought you’d go, and he told me here, so…” Molly held her arms out wide as if that was explanation enough. It wasn’t.

  “Josh, I get,” I said. He was my best friend, of course he would know where to find me. He’d been figuring me out for years, knew me better than I knew myself most days. “But why do you care?”

  Molly dropped to the ground next to me, not caring that her white jeans were now covered in mud. “You can’t trade one life for another. Trust me, Ella. Maddy’s life … you don’t want it.”

  I knew that. With every fiber of my being I knew that I could never be Maddy.

  “So why aren’t you mad now?” I had braced myself for everybody’s anger, for them to be pissed beyond belief at what I’d done. This … this quiet understanding, I didn’t know what to do with it. “I lied to you. To everybody. Why aren’t you angry?”

  Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I liked watching Alex stumble around you, and I kinda liked you, Ella. That, and it was nice to finally have a friend again.”

  “You think everybody will hate me? You think my parents will? I mean, I know Josh does.”

  “Josh? Hate you? Never. He’ll forgive you. He can’t help himself. That kid has had a thing for you since the first day your sister
pawned you off on him. Everybody could see that.”

  Everybody but me, that is. “What about—”

  “Your parents?” she interrupted, and I nodded. “No. I mean, they’ll probably be confused more than anything. They’ll blame themselves for a while. I know my parents did. But eventually, you will sort it out.”

  Molly understood what I was going through. She knew how hard it was to rebuild a life from a past that you wanted to forget, a past that you had absolutely no control over. “I don’t know what I am going to do.”

  “I do.” Her voice was filled with a confidence I’d never heard from her before, and I prayed that a small sliver of her strength would find its way into me. “You’re going to get up off this wet ground, leave your sister’s life behind, and start living yours. I’m not gonna lie; it’s going to suck for a while. People are going to look at you differently, call you messed up and selfish. God knows Jenna will probably accuse you of being jealous, of pretending to be Maddy so that you could get Alex and be popular. But I’ll be there to help you.”

  She paused and looked back toward the road. “And he’ll be there to help you, too.”

  I followed her gaze and saw Josh standing there. I knew he’d heard everything I’d said, from the confession to the justifications I laid on Molly, the same ones I used on him.

  “Has he been there the whole time?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Molly said. “Did you think he would actually have let me come alone? Not a chance. As I said, that boy can’t help himself when it comes to you.”

  Molly got up and brushed what she could of the mud from her pants, then took a step back. “If you ask me, I think Alex always knew you weren’t Maddy. He just didn’t care. That’s why he fought so hard to make everything seem perfect between the two of you and to cover for you.”

  I knew what she was trying to say. He wanted Maddy, wanted me to be Maddy so much that he ignored the truth, hid from it like I had.

 

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