Secret Heart

by Dreger,Danielle

  She pulls away and gasps for air. “Do you believe me now?” I ask.

  Her only answer is a slight shove before she takes off running down the alley and into parking lot.

  “PLEASE GOD LET there be sexy firemen,” Scott says. We are standing in the middle of the football field during a fire alarm.

  “We’re too far away to see them,” I say. I’ve edged away from my second period gym class in hopes of blending in with the crowd. I don’t want to draw any more attention to the fact I am wearing yellow rayon shorts and a blue rayon singlet. The end of February is not a good time to be this naked in public.

  “Maybe I can faint and you can call them over for some CPR?” He suggests. “But only the cute ones.”

  I jump up and down to stay warm. “Hello, dying of hypothermia over here. If you draw this fire alarm out any longer than it has to be, I will find the oldest, grossest fireman, the one who ate a tuna sandwich and forgot to brush his teeth to give you mouth-to-mouth.”

  Scott shudders. “Maybe some other time.” He gives me the once over. “Serious question,” he says.

  “Yeah?” I stop jumping and start stamping my sneakers into the mushy field. My ankles are now covered in flecks of mud.

  “When was the last time you shaved your legs?”

  “Fuck off,” I say as Jessica ambles over to us. She is drinking out of a gallon size soda cup. “Isn’t it a little artic out for that?”

  “Nah,” she says. “Caffeine is caffeine. I’ll take it any way I can get it. Hold this,” she says handing me the plastic cup so she can pull something out of her bag. She unwraps a McDonald’s bag containing a breakfast burrito.

  “Nasty.” Scott says. “Is that cold?”

  “Yep,” she says and takes a bite. “I bought three this morning but only had time to eat two.” She shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

  I shake my head as Scott says, “Girl, I don’t know how you look this good considering all the junk you put into your body.”

  Jessica shrugs and says, “Guess I’m lucky.”

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I ask gesturing to everyone milling around.

  “Bathrooms,” she says. “Some fool tried to cover up his smoke break in the B-wing piss pool with half a can of Axe body spray. That shit was so potent it set off the alarm.”

  “Are they sending in a Hazmat team?” I ask. “Because that much spray will kill us all.”

  Jessica takes her soda from me. “I dunno. It sucks to be anyone with a locker in B-wing.”

  I ask. “Who even wears Axe? Is it still a thing?”

  Scott’s mouth twitches. “Trust me. It is still a thing.”

  A bell rings signaling the end of the fire alarm. Jessica ambles off with her trough of soda. Scott mimics shaving his legs. I flip him the bird before he rejoins his English class.

  Everyone shuffles toward the school but I hang back. The less time I have to spend pretending to play volleyball, the better. As I near the entrance to the building I spot a familiar mane of blonde hair. Madison has avoided me since our kiss in the alley last week. She even skipped yesterday’s Lion Pride meeting. We were hoping to hear about student council’s take on our Purple Prom idea, but instead we ordered our T-shirts and ended the meeting early so that Scott and I had a chance to go see Puppy Love, which was even better than I imagined.

  “Hey,” I call to her. I can’t endure another week of this, and I promised the group that I would check in with Madison to find out what student council said.

  “Hey,” she says looking around. There are only a few of us still left outside. I don’t care if I get in trouble for coming back to gym late. Detentions are more fun than organized sports.

  “We missed you at the meeting yesterday,” I say.

  She doesn’t meet my gaze. “I had a conflict. Don’t worry, I’m still the liaison.”

  At least she is dressed for the weather. Her green cashmere sweater is the same color as her eyes. “What class did you get to avoid?”

  Madison studies the purple polish on her nails. “AP World History.”

  “Fun times,” I say and then gesture to my uniform. “Bet you can’t guess what level of hell I just escaped from?”

  “I like gym,” she says.

  I can’t keep the horror from crossing my face. “Why?”

  She shrugs. “It’s fun. I like the break it gives me between classes.”

  “What about sweat? And showering in public?” I pull at the fabric of my gym shirt. “And these uniforms?”

  She glances at my ensemble and I pray that her eyes don’t venture below my shorts to my unshaven legs. “They aren’t that bad,” she says.

  “So about last week,” I venture. We are almost to the door. In less than twenty seconds we will be forced to part ways and I’ll return to the third circle of Hell.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

  “After the movie?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  Something in me shifts. I don’t want to play this game. Scott is right about chasing straight girls. “You know what?” I ask, flinging open the door. “This isn’t worth it. Peace out.” And then I’m speed walking to the gym. This time I get to be the one leaving Madison standing there shell-shocked.

  When I check my phone after third period there is a text from Madison.

  Can we talk? The time stamp reads 9:02, mere moments after my dramatic exit.

  When?

  The phone buzzes in the middle of my math class. I slip it out of my vintage What Would Joan Jett Do hoodie pocket and discreetly check it while Ms. McKenna’s back is turned.

  After school?

  I manage to type out my response before Ms. McKenna turns around.

  MADISON IS LEANING against my car after the last bell. “What’s up with this?” Scott asks, raising an eyebrow. I wish she studied me as hard as she studies her phone.

  “Nothing. I’m giving her a ride home after I drop you off.”

  “I thought we were gonna watch movies.” Scott pouts.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Lady errands.” Scott shudders and I add, “Tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Fine.” He sighs so heavily that I’m sure it is audible in all the way over in Harbor Heights. “Hey, Madison,” he says.

  Madison smiles at him. “Hi, Scott. How are you?”

  “I’ve been better. I’ve been worse.”

  Madison frowns. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh Avery is just ditching me this afternoon,” he says. “I’m going to be so lonely.”

  “Ignore him,” I tell Madison. “In five minutes he’ll be messaging some guy on Twitter and it’ll be like I never existed.”

  Scott wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “That’s not true.” He pauses and then says to Madison, “As much as I love Avery she’s missing the anatomy I crave. And I’ll need to find someone to entertain me when she moves to Austin.”

  Madison’s eyes widen. “You’re moving to Austin?”

  “The band wants to relocate after graduation. I’m undecided.” Lately, I’m afraid that the band will fall apart once we cross state lines. Janet and I are barely making it work here. And living with her might push it over the edge. If Monica wasn’t there as a buffer, I’m sure I would have smashed a guitar over Janet’s head or she would have stabbed me with her drumsticks by now.

  Scott squeezes me. “It’s because she doesn’t want to be a thousand miles away from me.” Scott has no idea how much this is true. The prospect of leaving him and my mom plants a seed of sadness in my chest. As much as I hate this town, it is still home.

  I push him away and jingle my keys. “Shall we?”

  “Shotgun,” Scott calls and holds the back door of my Civic open so that Madison can slide in.

  As I pull out of the parking lot I watch Madison in the rearview mirror. Her head is down, a curtain of blonde hair hiding her face. “If you don’t want to be recognized there’s a probably a T-shirt or t
owel back there that you could drape over your head. We don’t want to humiliate you.”

  Scott pulls a navy blue cap from under the passenger seat and tosses it in the backseat. “Or wear this. No one will recognize you as a Braves fan.”

  “I wasn’t hiding,” she defends. “I was texting my mom.” She moves the cap to the side. “Baseball isn’t really my thing, but shouldn’t you have a Rays hat and not a Braves one? This is Tampa Bay not Atlanta.”

  “Burn,” Scott teases. “But I agree with you on the baseball. Other than the tight pants, the sport is lost on me. Avery’s dad was a fan and like, named her after a catcher or something.”

  “Steve Avery was a pitcher,” I correct.

  “Same difference,” he says.

  “Not really.”

  “Please for the love of all things holy, do not try and explain it to me.” Scott plugs in my iPod into the radio. “DJ Scott Brown is in the house and taking requests, Madison, you got any?” he asks.

  “Whatever you pick is fine,” she says.

  He picks the Imogen Heap song “Wait it Out,” which couldn’t be a more perfect soundtrack to this car ride.

  “We missed you last Friday,” Madison says to Scott.

  My heart freezes but I still manage to keep on driving toward Scott’s house. “What?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Tell you later,” I mouth but he is incapable of reading my lips when he’s only a foot away.

  “At the movies,” Madison says. “I think you would have liked Alien Tsunami.”

  “Probably not,” I jump in. “Scott is more of a Puppy Love kind of guy.”

  “You went to the movies?” His brown eyes are wide with disbelief. “Without me?”

  “Sorry,” I mumble as I turn down the side street that leads to his house.

  Scott leans into me when I pull into his driveway. “You have some explaining to do,” he whispers before he climbs out of the car. He holds the door open and Madison slides into the passenger seat. “Later, Madison.” Then he makes a phone gesture with his right hand. “Call me.”

  “You didn’t invite him,” she says once he shuts the door.

  “No, I didn’t.” My words come out harsher than I intend.

  She is quiet as I pull away from Scott’s house.

  “Where are we going?” Madison asks as I turn back onto the palm tree-lined boulevard that is our town’s main drag.

  “The Bluff,” I say, squinting into the sun.

  “The Bluff? In the middle of the day?”

  I pull the visor down and say, “I know you don’t want to be seen with me. No one will be there. It’s fucking freezing. Worst case scenario there’s an old guy walking his dog.”

  “Oh.” She bites her lip, but doesn’t object.

  The Bluff is empty and I pull into a parking spot overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt before turning to Madison. She is focused on the seagulls diving off the cliff and onto the rocks below.

  “So,” I say. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

  Madison takes a shaky breath in and then exhales all the air out of her chest. “You kissed me.”

  “You kissed me back.”

  “Why did you kiss me?”

  “Why did you kiss me?” I ask back.

  “I don’t know.” She hides her face in her hands as she says. “I’ve never kissed a girl before. I’m freaking out. What do I do?”

  “Well, you could stop dicking me around,” I say. The seagulls circle overhead, and white droplets of bird shit plop onto my windshield and hood like raindrops. Great.

  Madison doesn’t seem to notice that my car has been violated by flying vermin. “I’m not doing that,” she defends. “You’re the one who started it.”

  “You’re all hot and cold on me. Make up your mind.”

  “But you lied,” she says.

  “Yeah, I did. You lied, too,” I point out. “You were pretending like we didn’t just make out, like it was all in my head.”

  “It wasn’t all in your head,” she says. She moves in her seat and her left hand comes to rest near the parking brake.

  Even though I’m still mad at her, my body has other ideas. My right hand inches toward the center console and parking brake until our pinky fingers touch. My anger dissipates the longer her skin touches mine. “I liked it a lot,” I say. The heat from her hand seeps into mine.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, like if this was a one-time thing or a for real thing. I’ve never felt like this before.”

  My hand moves to cover hers. “Is this okay?” I ask as her eyes flick to the window. The bird shit streaking down the windows is killing my game.

  “I don’t know,” she says, but she doesn’t move her hand away.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I have a boyfriend. I’m not gay.”

  “I know, but how do you feel? Right now?”

  Madison squeezes her eyes shut. “Scared.”

  “Me too,” I say softly.

  She opens her eyes and looks at me. “What do you have to be scared about?”

  “Everything.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Austin. Leaving Scott. The band falling apart. You breaking my heart and busting my balls.”

  “But you don’t have balls. That’s the problem.”

  My thumb brushes back and forth on her wrist right above her watch. “What do you want to do about this?”

  She pushes my hand away. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to see where this is going?”

  She bites her lip. “No. Yes. Maybe.” There’s a long pause and she exhales all of the air out of her lungs. “I think this is all too much for me right now.”

  A seagull lands on the hood of my car. I swear he’s smirking at me. I lost the girl and my car is covered in shit. I restart the engine and he flies away. “Alright then. I guess I should get you home.”

  Madison is quiet as I drive. Kate Nash’s “I’ve Got a Secret” comes on my ancient iPod and I crank the volume loud enough to drown out my disappointment and Madison’s self-doubt. I flick my windshield washers, but they just streak bird poop right across my field of vision Perfect. I’m going to wreck on the way home from getting dumped by a straight girl. Death by bird shit.

  “Do you mind if we stop so I can wash my windshield? It looks like a Jackson Pollock painting.” She nods and I pull into the car wash behind a line of cars waiting for the automatic car wash as Kate sings about homophobic pricks.

  “How did you know?” Madison asks.

  “Know what?” I say as we inch forward.

  Madison squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “How did you know you were, you know, gay?”

  The car behind me honks and I move up. “I just did. For as long as I can remember I’ve liked girls. I’ve only been out for about four years.”

  “That’s all?” She doesn’t hide her surprise. “Why only four years?”

  “My dad died when I was twelve, and even though I was into the ladies I was too busy grieving to really acknowledge it.”

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry. Can I ask how?”

  I cringe. I hate talking about his death but something compels me to share it with Madison. “He was out running early one morning and got hit by a car. The driver had spilled their coffee and swerved into my dad.” I blink back tears and clear my throat. “Anyway, things were rough for a bit. Then in eighth grade there was this cheerleader, Melissa Gray, who just blew my mind.”

  “She was gay?”

  “No,” I laugh. “She had a boyfriend. It was the first time I realized I wanted a girlfriend. And then Scott and I became friends and I went to summer camp and kissed Jenni Thomas in the boathouse.”

  “Oh.” The line creeps forward a millimeter. I’m happy to have more time with Madison, despite the depressing circumstances.

  “How do I know if what I felt when you kissed me is something I really want?”

  “I d
on’t know.” I think about all of my romantic comedies and how the couples get together. “You have to follow your gut. Or your heart. Whatever body part is speaking the loudest, do what it says.” We’re finally at the machine and I choose the ultra-hardcore wash.

  Madison flops back in her seat. “My brain is telling me this isn’t a good idea. And I don’t know if I can trust my gut. My lunch isn’t sitting well,” she says as an attendant starts scrubbing the roof of my car with a long soapy brush.

  “That’s what you get for eating those Cup Noodles,” I crack as I shift the car into neutral and we drift into the tunnel. A foamy cloud of soap and spray envelopes the car. “Forget your brain and your gut. What about your heart?”

  “I think it says okay,” she says as the blue brushes start in on my car. I can’t help myself. I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean toward her. Madison’s mouth is soft against mine. I feel around for her seatbelt and unlock it to pull her closer to me. Her lips part and I deepen the kiss. I lean over the parking brake and I breathe her in. My hands tangle in her hair as I kiss her neck below her ear. She makes a soft moaning sound that unravels me from the inside out and I shift to draw her in even closer to me.

  I bump the steering column and my Civic rocks back and forth in the tunnel tracks. Then we lurch to a stop. Madison and I pull apart. Through the pink and green soap film on the back window I can barely see the attendant at the other end of the tunnel. He’s waving his brush and yelling but I can’t make out what he is saying.

  “What happened?” Madison asks as she fastens her seatbelt and fixes her hair.

  I re-buckle and look around. The fluffy blue brushes are still against the windows, dripping soap.

  A voice comes over the loudspeaker. “Please put your car back into neutral.”

  I must have knocked the gearshift it into park while I was kissing Madison. “Oops. I think we broke the car wash.”

  Madison giggles.

  The brushes whir to life, making soapy streaks across the windows. We glide along in near silence all the way through the pressure rinse. The industrial dryers kick on, and I watch the rivers of water flow in reverse

  Madison’s hand is cool on the back of my neck. I turn my head towards her at the same moment her mouth touches mine. The kiss is brief and tender and fills me with an intense longing. I pull away first. “That felt like a goodbye kiss.”