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Keeping Her Secret

Page 3

by Sarah Nicolas


  Courtney? A man-eater?

  “No such thing,” Courtney said, placing a hand on her hip.

  Colt caught Riya’s eye, a smile teasing his lips. Riya tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh.

  “You two have something to say?” Courtney asked, threatening in a playful way.

  Riya shook her head, laughing. “Nope.” She held her hands up in surrender.

  “As the legend goes,” Colt said, “Courtney came out of the womb so perfect that the doctor instantly retired, claiming he’d never top such a career-defining moment.”

  A guffaw burst from Riya’s mouth. “Awkward, since they had to find another doctor to deliver Colt.”

  “And so began my life of playing second fiddle to the legendary Courtney Chastain,” Colt said.

  Courtney laughed while glaring at her brother’s sarcasm, and for a fraction of a second, everything felt right. Riya was laughing with her two best friends and the world rotated perfectly on its axis.

  “We should get going or all the good logs will be taken.” Trey waggled his eyebrows and made for the door.

  Only then did Riya realize that everyone else had cleared out of the cafeteria.

  Colt and Riya followed him. The three noticed Courtney’s absence when they reached the door of the cafeteria and turned to see her standing in the same spot.

  Colt’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You coming, Court?”

  “Um.” She paused. “I’ll catch up.”

  Courtney hadn’t changed as much as she wanted everyone to think she had. The girl was still a terrible liar. Maybe it was the laughter they’d shared, or maybe it was glimpsing a crack of vulnerability in Courtney’s shell, but a surge of courage rushed through Riya.

  Regardless of the way her heart raced at every glimpse of Courtney, and the way her stomach clenched when she remembered the last time they’d parted, she wanted peace.

  “Go on.” Riya shooed the boys outside. “I need to talk to her, anyway.”

  Oblivious, Trey threw up his hands. “Girl talk, I see. Can’t get in the way of that.”

  Colt, of course, knew a little bit more. Though, exactly how much, Riya had no idea.

  Concern darkened his features. “You sure?” he whispered.

  “Yeah, we’re here for the next four weeks. We’ve got to make it work.”

  He glanced over her shoulder toward his sister and gave Riya a doubtful shrug. “Good luck.” He turned, and the two boys shuffled toward the tennis courts.

  Courtney startled when Riya returned to the dining hall. She cast panicked glances at the door.

  “Everyone’s gone,” Riya said.

  Their aloneness did nothing to calm Courtney. She hugged her arms to her chest and tried to walk past Riya to the door. “I’m just going to find my friend Bridget,” she said. “You should catch up with Colt.”

  “I wanted to talk to you first.” Riya didn’t block Courtney’s way, but she didn’t move out of it, either.

  “We don’t have anything to talk about,” Courtney said, but she didn’t leave, which encouraged Riya.

  “Court,” Riya sighed. “We were friends, remember? Not just friends, but best friends. We did everything together.”

  “I remember.” Courtney tightened her arms, squeezing her stomach. “But you want to be something other than friends.”

  “No, I don’t,” Riya said. Both Riya and Courtney had changed in the last four years. Of course, Courtney’s beauty had only increased, but that wasn’t all there was to it. Riya had no idea whether or not this cold version of Courtney was someone she could forgive for what happened four years ago. “We were kids. It was a stupid kiss. I was experimenting.”

  “But you do…like girls?” Courtney asked.

  Riya ran a hand through her ponytail. “Yeah, I do. I don’t hide it anymore.” She watched Courtney carefully. “And you don’t. Like them, not in that way.”

  Courtney nodded. “But you don’t like me? In that way?”

  Trying to read Courtney’s expression, Riya took a deep breath. The truth—“I don’t know yet. Give me a few days or weeks”—wasn’t what Courtney needed to hear. For now, she needed to feel safe. So Riya lied. “You’re not really my type, Court.”

  Courtney’s head snapped to attention, and her blue eyes bore down on Riya’s face. She’d probably never heard those words aimed at her before. “What is your type, then?”

  Riya didn’t answer right away. Truth was, she didn’t know how to answer. As far as she knew, she didn’t have a type. She liked individual people, not everyone who checked off criteria on an arbitrary list.

  Courtney filled the silence. “That girl Delores plays softball, and she’s about as opposite from me as you can get, so—” She stopped speaking at Riya’s laugh. “What’s so funny?”

  “Dee is straight as an arrow.” She paused, considering. “And are you trying to set me up?”

  Courtney’s brow creased in confusion. “But, softball and…” she trailed off.

  “You thought she was a lesbian because she plays softball? You’re the last person who should rely so much on stereotypes.”

  “But she wears black tennis shoes,” Courtney insisted.

  Riya shrugged. “We weren’t all born with your incredible fashion sense.”

  Courtney’s arms dropped to her side as the revelation sunk in. “How do you even know? This is your first day.”

  “We met. She’s in my cabin.”

  Courtney dropped her gaze and chewed on her lip.

  Weird that a simple statement would elicit such a response. “What is it?”

  “Delores is in my cabin.”

  Riya smiled her friendliest smile, despite her stomach plunging. “So that means we’re roomies, just like we always talked about.” Great, Riya thought. That meant she’d have to keep this friendly feelings charade up 24-7.

  Silent seconds stretched out between them. Riya steeled herself for her final plea. “Look, this has been so uncomfortable so far. I just want to have fun this summer. I’m sure you do, too. And I’d like for us to be friends again.”

  Disgust distorted Courtney’s features, transforming Riya’s stomach into a rock. “I don’t want to be friends with you,” she said.

  Courtney’s words nearly knocked her off her feet. It was probably for the best, she told herself. Too many feelings to hide, too many thoughts to keep to herself, otherwise. But still. Courtney was so eager to trash the second chance they’d been given at what had been a truly great friendship. Did she hate her that much?

  “Okay,” Riya amended, twisting the fingers of her hands together. “Can we have a truce, at least?”

  “A truce?” Courtney raised an eyebrow. Not the warm welcome Riya’d been hoping for, but she supposed it could be worse.

  “Yeah. I won’t try to kiss you again.” Riya laughed so Courtney knew she was joking, but it sounded flat to her own ears. “And you can just ignore me.” Like you do everyone else you don’t care about.

  Courtney cocked her head to the side, thinking. “Okay.” She nodded. “Truce, then.”

  Riya fought the flashbacks as Courtney dashed away from her once again. She wondered if she’d been cursed to a lifetime of watching her first crush run away.

  …

  Courtney had detoured to her cabin to grab a sweater she didn’t really need before joining the bonfire. When she arrived, Riya stood in a circle with Colt, Trey, Delores, a pair of towering twin girls, Courtney’s best friend at camp Bridget, and more—including both jocks and her usual crowd. Odd mixture.

  She inhaled the cool night air and slowly released the breath before approaching the group. Riya had said to ignore her. Like that was at all possible. Never mind the fact that Riya was totally un-ignorable, but Colt had fully resolved himself to resurrecting their friendship.

  Someone had hooked their phone up to a speaker and music joined the sounds of laughing and talking. Cell service didn’t venture out here in the mountains, so phones at camp main
ly served as jukeboxes and flashlights—and as an alarm, in Courtney’s case. Across the field, Trey began shaking his shoulders off the beat, and Riya laughed, joining him in his goofy dance for a few seconds before she blushed and diverted her gaze.

  Riya caught sight of Courtney before anyone else noticed and silently watched her make her way through the crowd. Bugs flitted in and out of the smoky air.

  Colt’s friend David, a huge football-player type with brown hair and brown eyes, offered Courtney a water bottle full of something that looked very much like vodka with a splash of juice. She shook her head. As a rule, she didn’t drink. Too many calories and fuzzy mornings made it not conducive to ballet excellence.

  “Hey, Courtney,” Riya said, meeting her gaze from underneath a veil of thick, dark lashes.

  A thrill shot through Courtney’s stomach at Riya’s quiet confidence and, in that instant, she kinda hated her for it. How dare she make her feel that way after all this time and in front of all her friends? Nobody else had that effect on her. It wasn’t fair that Riya, who’d told her she had no feelings for her minutes ago, could.

  She’d said Courtney wasn’t her type. Whatever that meant.

  Courtney clenched her jaw. She had to regain control, to reclaim her status. She smiled, saccharine sweet, at Riya.

  “Are you signing up for the talent competition?” she asked. “I remember how lovely you sang when we were kids.” Courtney also remembered how shy Riya was about singing in front of people, how she and Colt would have to beg her to sing for them in the privacy of her own living room. No way she’d sing in front of everyone.

  Riya’s gaze fell to the ground for a second, before rising to meet Courtney’s. “You remember that?” she whispered.

  Courtney shrugged like it meant nothing. Like she hadn’t heard Riya singing in her head as she drifted off to sleep for months after Riya’d moved away.

  A soft mauve blushed Riya’s cheeks and the tips of her ears. Courtney couldn’t help but watch it spread across her skin. Riya shook her head slightly. “I need to focus on staying in shape for volleyball this summer.”

  Colt bumped Riya’s shoulder with his elbow. “Come on, Ree. You’d be great. Might even give Courtney a run for her perma-title.”

  Riya raised her eyebrow at him, so he explained. “She’s won every year since we started coming here.”

  “We’ve won,” Courtney corrected. “Colt plays piano while I dance. I can’t win without him.” She felt an unfamiliar need to divert attention away from herself. Riya’s eyes focused on her too much, too often.

  “They have a piano here?” Riya scanned the bonfire clearing as if she’d find evidence of one.

  Colt nodded. “For the music classes. It was covered by a tarp in the cafeteria, in the corner. But I also brought a keyboard, for extra practice.”

  “Nice.”

  “I could play for you, too.” He turned the full force of his considerable charm on Riya. Most girls agreed to do anything under his gaze. “Do a little Demi Lovato or Ellie Goulding?”

  “I’d like to see that!” Trey said.

  It was then that Courtney noticed how close their friend stood to Riya, smirking and staring at her for an unnecessarily long time. He brushed her arm or shoulder at every possible moment. Trey couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

  As if he had any chance with her, even if she didn’t like girls.

  Trey was okay looking and funny, but Riya was beautiful in such a rare kind of way. She’d inherited her mother’s thick, dark hair and incredible bone structure and her father’s quiet strength. Her lush lips demanded attention. White men like Courtney’s father would call her “exotic,” a word Colt said was meant to be complimentary and dehumanizing at the same time. But it was somewhat true. Riya’s kind of beauty was captivating and untouchable.

  Riya chewed her lip, considering Colt’s suggestion. Before she could answer, Colt’s eyes lit up with the look that always accompanied his “genius” ideas. An uncomfortable feeling crawled into Courtney’s stomach. Her little power play was about to backfire.

  “We could do it together, all three of us.” His gaze switched excitedly back and forth between Riya and Courtney. “I’ll play, Riya sings, Courtney dances. We’d be unstoppable.”

  Courtney’s heart pounded. That would mean spending countless hours over the next four weeks alone with Riya and Colt. Unacceptable. “You and I are already unstoppable,” Courtney mumbled.

  Riya’s advancing smile retreated. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your tradition. Or ruin your chances.”

  The tension in Courtney’s shoulders softened.

  “I’m with Riya,” Trey said, nudging her arm with his own. Again. “She should do her own performance. If she’s as good as y’all say she is, she might just dethrone the queen.”

  “That’s not—” Riya began, but Colt interrupted her.

  “It’s settled, then.” He grinned at both of them. “Just like the old days when we put on shows for our parents. I’ll play for both of you.”

  Trey’s crooked smile stretched wide across his face. “What’s a little rivalry between old friends, right?”

  Delores, the twins Courtney could never tell apart, and their tiny blond friend offered cheers of encouragement.

  Riya refused to meet anyone’s gaze, training her eyes on the empty space to the right of Courtney’s hip.

  “Right,” Courtney said. Should be a piece of cake. Courtney had practiced every day since she was four. Though Riya had tons of natural talent, she’d taken pains to hide it, suppress it even. Courtney had nothing to worry about. So what was with that nervous tickle in the pit of her stomach?

  “Sure,” Riya muttered, not sounding sure of anything.

  “It’s about to start,” Trey said with boyish enthusiasm. The entire mood shifted.

  “What’s starting?” Riya asked, following Trey.

  He turned to tell her about the upcoming silly skits, where Bob Fazio and the other staff made absolute fools of themselves. Courtney’d loved the whole thing when she was a kid, but now it seemed so stupid.

  Everyone migrated toward the fire like moths to a flame and, suddenly, they were in a Taylor Swift music video for a song about summer nights. Campers laughed and flirted and licked marshmallow guts from their fingers as the fire sparked and flared in the background.

  The new junior counselor, Jacob, stood in a line of counselors, his muscled arms tense across his chest, a scowl on his face. Dane shoved him forward.

  Courtney hung back. Despite the amazing weather, her perfect outfit, and her newly established truce with Riya, she couldn’t get into the camp spirit.

  It took Colt all of three seconds to zone in on her mood—or lack thereof. He joined her, still standing in the same spot where she’d challenged Riya to the talent show. They stood side by side, watching everyone from twenty feet away.

  Well, Courtney mostly watched Riya.

  “I thought you two talked,” he said. It sounded like an accusation.

  “We did.” Courtney swept her hair up and swirled it into a bun at the crown of her head, then dropped her hands, letting gravity slowly unravel the strands.

  “And?”

  “She said she didn’t like me. I mean—you know, that way. She called the kiss a childish mistake.” Courtney didn’t admit she wasn’t sure if Riya still liked her in any way. She’d changed so much in four years, while Riya had only grown kinder. Better.

  “Isn’t that the exact same thing you told me?” Colt asked.

  Courtney nodded. “Yep, it was a mistake.”

  Colt made a noncommittal sound, cocking his head to the side. Courtney watched him from the corner of her eye for a few seconds. His jaw moved in a familiar way; he was literally chewing on his tongue.

  “What?”

  “So why aren’t you happy?”

  He wasn’t asking a question. He was making a point.

  Having a twin meant there was someone who knew your every thought
. Most of the time—like when she snuck out of the house or had forgotten her lunch—it was great. But other times? It was total crap.

  “She’s amazing,” Colt said without the admiration that usually accompanied such a phrase. He was making another point.

  “She always was.” The words fell from her lips like a river rushing into a waterfall.

  “She’s nice, smart, funny.” Colt spoke with an almost clinical air. “She manages to be cute and hot at the same time, which is basically witchcraft, if you ask me.”

  Courtney nodded with caution. This felt like a trap. “Yep. What’s your point?”

  “My point is, big sis: What’s not to like?”

  “I don’t like girls.”

  “Maybe not.” Colt shrugged and turned to face her, bowing his head to peer directly into her eyes. “But you do like Riya Johnson. Or, at least, you did.”

  The hair on the back of her neck rose to attention. Courtney tried to slide her hands into her pockets, but they only went as deep as her second knuckle. Damn girl pockets.

  “I don’t like any girls,” she insisted.

  “Why not?”

  His question caught her completely off guard. Girls never had to defend not liking other girls. It was the other way around; girls who liked girls had to explain themselves. It simply wasn’t done. Especially by girls who traveled the kinds of social circles she did, where there were always whispers about the family who suddenly sent their son away to boarding school or the college-age daughter who brought her “roommate” to every benefit and function.

  Her mind flashed to the welcome talk, when their thighs had been pressed together and the heat of Riya’s skin had scorched her awareness until that small space became the only thing that existed in the world.

  Colt raised a blond eyebrow.

  “Either way, it doesn’t matter. She said she doesn’t like me. So everything’s okay now.”

  “Court, every bonfire we’ve ever had here, you’ve been out there.” He pointed to the jumble of kids gathered around the fire. “Working the crowd, practically forcing every single boy to fall in love with you. Tonight, you’re standing alone, sulking, staring at someone you swear you don’t care about. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

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