Keeping Secrets

by Lisa Eugene

  Cheers rose up from the bar and I turned to find the source of the ruckus. Large-screen televisions broadcast a basketball game. Competition was fierce as teams tried to get a spot for the playoffs. LeBron James lost the ball to Carmelo Anthony, who made a three pointer. I caught a brief glimpse of the scores and grunted in disgust.

  “I can’t believe LeBron lost that one,” I mumbled to myself.

  “Well, he’s no Marcus Johnson.”

  Alexa said the words from across the table and my head almost exploded.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? LeBron is one of the greatest players of all time.”

  “He’s good, but he’s no Johnson. Johnson’s amazing. He’s my favorite player of all time. He’s a six-time NBA champion, was Defensive Player of the Year in 1988, received six final MVPs and five MVPs during his career—”

  “Yeah, but LeBron received four in only a couple of years.”

  “I believe it took five years. A couple would be two.”

  I bristled at her snippy words and zealous rant. I didn’t know Johnson’s stats by heart, but I’d bet she was on the money. “LeBron’s still pretty damn amazing. And he still has years left in him.”

  “Johnson never lost in the NBA finals, whereas James fell in his first two appearances.”

  Being a LeBron fan since his college basketball years, I had to have his back. And of course, this spurred such a heated debate that even the waitress looked afraid to approach the table. She came close several times and then sensibly backed away. I was glad because although our debate was spirited and even obnoxious at times, I was thoroughly engrossed. Alexa Kennedy had a way of pissing me off that I enjoyed.

  Finally, the waitress worked up the courage to come over and we ordered another round of drinks. She asked about dessert, giving me a wink.

  I ordered pumpkin pie for both of us.

  “You want whipped cream or powdered sugar on yours, Sweets, or are you sweet enough?”

  Her words, I’m sure, were meant to entice, but I declined the extras.

  I looked to Alexa, who sat quietly eyeing us.

  “Would you like anything else?”

  She shook her head and I turned back to the waitress. “I think we’re good.”

  “I’m sure you are, Sweets.” Shooting me another wink, she took off.

  Alexa grew quiet. She had that same look on her face that she’d had when she’d first walked up to her building. Worry shifted the blue of her eyes to navy, and I wondered if she was thinking about the accident.

  “Did you get in touch with your insurance company?” I decided to tackle the reason we were here.

  She nodded and started rummaging around in her bag again. Finding what she was looking for, she pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over. “My father filed a claim. Here’s the claim number and everything you’ll need. I’m sure they’ll get in touch with you, but you can give the info to your own carrier.”

  I tucked the paper away as our dessert showed up and I gave her a long look. Her father was right to be worried about getting sued. I could go after him directly for the damages, but that just wasn’t my style. Alexa had been distraught the night of the crash and worried about her patient. It was just an unfortunate accident, and we were lucky that no one had been injured.

  I kept several cars in my garage, and used Lenny’s Car Center on the West Side for all servicing and repairs. My other two cars were more practical, not as extravagant as the Spider. Lenny was a fair man and would give me a good deal. I was sure that between the two insurances, we’d be able to work something out. Plus, I had extra collision coverage for the Spider.

  “Don’t worry. I have no intention of suing your family.”

  Relief lit her eyes behind the glasses. I wanted suddenly to see her without the specs. She had an incredible face, the kind of beauty that was obvious even behind a glass shield and layers of thick, wavy hair. Her license didn’t do her justice.

  “Good thing you didn’t get pulled over today,” I said between bites.

  She looked at me, puzzled. I elaborated, “You wouldn’t pass for a six-three, two-hundred-twenty-pound man.”

  “What?”

  “Check your license.”

  Finishing her last bite of pie, she pulled out her wallet.

  “I hadn’t realized.” She looked down at the picture. “That would’ve been a shock for the cops, huh?”

  “Or imagine if I’d gotten carded.” I pulled out her license. “I would’ve had to explain my sex change.”

  She chuckled as we reached out to exchange cards. Our hands brushed together, and it was probably the jovial atmosphere and the fact that she’d kept me enthralled for more than an hour, but I felt her touch like a brand. Even after she’d pulled away, my skin still tingled.

  Slipping out of the booth, Alexa excused herself to visit the ladies’ room and I eased back against the padded seat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed myself so much. Considering my initial impression of Alexa, this was surprising. I had a pleasant buzz, which I knew had nothing to do with the alcohol. I usually had fun with Henry and Tom, even when they twisted my arm to tag along, but there were many times I felt like the third wheel.

  The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers, and I glanced at my watch. It was almost eleven and I had a meeting at six in the morning. Ten minutes later, I was tapping on the table, wondering if Alexa was okay, but I knew how ridiculous the line to the ladies room could be in a bar. I waved to the waitress and settled the bill, deciding it was better to do it while Alexa was gone. The waitress beamed and slid the receipt onto the table.

  I was checking my messages when Alexa slipped back into the booth. She’d pulled her hoodie over her head and had her arms wrapped around her torso like she was cold. Her skin looked flushed, but she smiled and my focus detoured to her plump bottom lip.

  “How much was everything?” she asked, taking out her wallet.

  “Funny, they forgot to charge us,” I whispered conspiratorially, my fingers inching over the receipt. “Don’t let on. Perhaps we can just sneak out without them realizing.” I touched a finger to my lips.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed, plucking out some bills. I gasped and looked around. “Would you put that away! You’ll tip them off.”

  She sighed and pinned me with a stern look, but it wasn’t an effective one. “I can’t let you pay.”

  I tapped a finger to my chin, watching her. “You can pay me back by coming with me to the car show at the Javits Center.”

  Surprise briefly registered in her eyes and she started in on her bottom lip. I couldn’t help but stare.

  I was somewhat surprised myself. The thought of asking her had crossed my mind earlier and I’d dismissed the notion as a bad one. Now, the look on her face confirmed that it might not’ve been my brightest idea. We barely knew each other. She was probably thinking the same thing because all her humor had evaporated.

  “Um…” Her shoulders slowly lifted as she pulled in a deep breath. “I had a good time tonight, but I—I don’t date.”

  I wished I could read her thoughts. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I said, “Date? Who said anything about a date? And funny you should say that because I don’t date, either.”

  One brow sneaked up skeptically. Her stare was openly incredulous, causing my smile to widen.

  “What?” Despite the innocence I’d infused into that word, she wouldn’t let go of the smirk she was giving me.

  “Now I find that very hard to believe, Sweets!”

  Her gaze zeroed in on my hand covering the receipt and I looked down. The top part of the slip peeked out, revealing the name and number the waitress had scribbled on it. A laugh rumbled out of me. I knew the waitress had been flirty, but I hadn’t realized she’d slipped me her number.

  “She’s very pretty,” Alexa noted matter-of-factly, her gaze drifting over my shoulder. She was probably checking out the woman in question. I wanted to tell her that she blew
the waitress away, but knew it would sound gratuitous.

  I shrugged. The waitress was pretty, but I always found women who flirted with men who were in the company of another woman a total turn off. She’d had no idea if Alexa was my sister, friend, or girlfriend. I’d thought her flirting was rude and had tried my best to ignore her.

  “She’s not my type anyway, but I’m done with dating.”

  Alexa adjusted her glasses, then tilted her head as she regarded me.

  “Just out of curiosity, why?”

  I shrugged again, feeling a little on the spot. She studied me like I was a giant inkblot. “I guess I just haven’t had the best luck. Women are too…how should I say it? Crazy.”

  A sardonic smile twisted her lips. Humor sneaked back into her eyes. “And men are…?”

  “Innocent victims,” I supplied with as much conviction as I could muster. After all, I had an entire sex to defend. “We’re not nearly as irrational.”

  She laughed out loud, the sound I liked hearing.

  I raised both palms to cut off whatever she was about to say. “Hold on there, Miss Stats, I’m sure you can quote some scholarly statistic to the contrary, and we could duke this out all night long, but it’s just from personal experience. Women are cray-cray. So I’m done.”

  She regarded me through narrowed eyes, her expression carrying a shitload of doubt. “I see. And how long have you been done? When was your last date?”

  Hmmm…I rubbed a spot at the back of my neck that suddenly grew warm. “Well…two days ago.”

  It’s a good thing she didn’t have a drink in her mouth because it would’ve been all over me. She laughed like she was staring at Bozo the Clown across the table, and frankly, I started to feel like him.

  She straightened her back and affected a serious disposition. Amusement danced in her eyes. “Hi, my name is Dex Blakewell, and I’ve been clean and date-free for two whole days.” She intoned the words like she was sitting in an AA meeting, then started laughing again.

  I couldn’t help but laugh along with her, stirred by her infectious humor. I’d never met anyone like her.

  “So what’s your story?” I inquired when she’d gotten it all out.

  “I have to stay focused on school. I just don’t have the time or the inclination to date right now.”

  I nodded seriously, relating. Work was my priority.

  “And when was your last date?”

  When she hesitated, I wondered briefly if she was a virgin. I dismissed the idea. She had to be around twenty-four or twenty-five. In today’s world, it was hard to find virgins that age. Plus, she seemed comfortable around me. She didn’t put her sexuality on display, but she wasn’t shy or awkward, either. It was like hanging out with a guy friend—except that I found her extremely beautiful, I couldn’t help but add.

  “About two years ago,” she confessed.

  I inclined my head, my mind automatically ringing with questions I couldn’t ask. Was that two years without getting laid? As a man, that seemed a bit extreme. My balls would’ve exploded by now, but I understood being driven. I wondered how she took care of herself, if she watched porn, or used toys, and had to shift in my seat at the images that popped into my head.

  “So, tell me about the car show?”

  Glad for the change of subject, I cleared my throat before starting.

  “I just thought it would be something you’d be into since you seem to know so much about cars. It’s in two weeks, the first day of the New York International Auto Show. Have you ever been?”

  “Once. A long time ago with my parents, but it’s been years.”

  I told her about the highly anticipated models for the new year, and the concept cars expected to be on display. I wasn’t surprised she’d already heard about some of them. Our brief discussion sparked my excitement about the show. I had to admit that it would be great to go with someone who seemed to love cars as much as I did. Henry and Tom enjoyed seeing the new models, but couldn’t care less about the specs and technicalities. Something told me they’d rally the same enthusiasm looking at shiny new appliances.

  “Okay, I’ll go. I can’t stay the whole day, though. I have to study for an upcoming test. I can spare maybe a few hours.”

  “Cool.” I grabbed my jacket, surprised how much I’d wanted her to say yes.

  “So, we’re going as friends,” she clarified before sliding out of the seat. Her unwavering gaze met and held mine as she rose, seeking agreement.

  I turned to her, so close we were almost touching. She felt tiny next to me. A perfect, little, unexpected package. She couldn’t be more than five-six or so.

  “Friends,” I affirmed, stretching out a hand, which she shook with a light laugh. Her hand was small and soft. Her touch lingered.

  She walked ahead of me then turned her head. “Don’t forget that number, just in case you fall off the wagon.”

  I stood, shaking my head and smiling, wondering about my new friendship.

  Chapter Seven

  Your posture is horrible, Alexa.

  Sorry, Daddy.

  You mustn’t stand like a slob.

  Sorry, Daddy.

  Are you a slob, Alexa?

  No, Daddy.

  Alexa

  A week later, Jake visited my dreams. He sat on his bed in his hospital room, and he had a full head of thick, dark hair. When he saw me, the biggest smile split his face, and he beamed. But as I got closer, his smile wavered and his eyes grew sad, like they’d lost their light. I stopped in front of him, trying to assure him he’d be okay. I opened my mouth and silence came out. The words were cotton stuffed into my throat. Feeling ill, I reached out to touch him just as he vanished.

  I awoke with tears in my eyes and an overwhelming sadness crushing my chest. I showered and dressed lethargically, schlepping my limbs around like iron pipes. By the time I made it to the hospital, I’d consumed enough coffee to keep an elephant awake for a week. I was still dragging, edgy, and just not feeling like myself. I’d been up studying until one in the morning. Fatigue and sadness weighed me down.

  I arrived on the ward for morning rounds, surprised to see the crowd gathered in the nurses’ station. I spotted John first and approached. He was bent over a chart, sloppily taking notes.

  “What’s with all the peeps?” I inquired, tilting my coffee cup to drain the dregs from the bottom.

  The look on his face told me something was wrong.

  “Some of the lockers were broken into last night. Security was here questioning the night shift and everyone who’d been on the ward.”

  I tossed my empty cup into a nearby can, alarm sprinting through me. Some of the medical students used a row of lockers at the back of the nurses’ station to store equipment. I was one of them.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, already rushing toward the back. “Do you know which ones?”

  Shaking his head, he followed. John dormed in student housing. He didn’t need a locker. If he forgot something, he could simply run across the street to get it. I kept everything in my locker so I wouldn’t have to lug equipment back and forth across town.

  Issuing a silent prayer, I ignored the anxious flutter of my heart. Medical equipment was expensive. The pediatric cardiac stethoscope alone was several hundred dollars. There was no way I could afford new equipment. I was up to my ears in loans for medical school and my parents were stretched as it was. After what I’d done to my dad’s car and the deductible he had to pay, there was no way in hell I could ask them for money.

  When I got to the back, Tina and Monika were already there, along with Carla and several other students. Monika looked upset, quietly weeping while Tina consoled her. I raced to my locker and tugged on the combination lock, taking it as a good sign that it wasn’t unlocked, but my hand shook as I dialed in the code.

  Flinging open the door, I did a quick inventory, and sighed a huge relief when all my equipment was accounted for.

  “Everything there?” John asked from behind me
, and I nodded.

  I shot my gaze to Monika, who had tears in her eyes, and my chest squeezed. I took what I needed from the locker and replaced the lock, making a mental note to remove anything valuable. The convenience of having the equipment close by wasn’t worth the worry. I was heading over to Monika when Rhonda approached. From the tight lines carved in her features, it was obvious that her locker had been hit.

  “And where the fuck were you last night?” She stepped directly in my path.

  Invading my space, she forced me to take a step back. Anger radiated off of her like a bad odor.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard the bold accusation in her tone.

  “I’m just saying that a few of us are out of over a thousand dollars’ worth of equipment. I’m trying to get to the bottom of it. It’s suspicious that your locker is dead center in the middle of the room, and wasn’t touched.”

  I couldn’t believe what this witch was implying. It was one thing to whisper about me behind my back, like she usually did, but she had some nerve confronting me. I skewered her with a sharp gaze.

  “You better get the fuck out of my face, or I’m gonna go loco on your ass. I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t answer to you. You have five seconds.”

  Rhonda bristled, but didn’t back off. She blew her blond bangs aside and glared at me. “I suppose it’s a coincidence that three of the five lockers broken into belong to students with the highest grades—those in the running for valedictorian. The first part of our anatomy lab practicum is on Monday. How the hell are we supposed to replace our equipment by then?”

  I locked gazes with her. People like Rhonda got off on intimidating others. She strutted around like she owned the place. I knew her type well. My entire life I’d had to fight like hell for everything I’d achieved. It always seemed like there was one battle after the next—battles internally and externally. But I always did it fairly, and through my own efforts. Getting ahead by stepping on others only cluttered your path and caused you to stumble. I’d rather make my own way fair and square. I’d never sabotage another student.