Keeping Her Secret

by Sarah Nicolas

Courtney smiled, tears pricking at her eyes. “Yes, she is.”

  “You’re beautiful, too,” Olivia said. “That’s why you deserve each other.”

  Courtney laughed. It sounded so simple.

  Olivia wrapped her arms around Courtney’s neck, squeezing the way little kids hugged—with abandon and pure emotion.

  “Goodbye, Olivia,” Courtney said.

  “Bye, Courtney.” Olivia spotted someone else at the next table over and dashed away.

  When Courtney stood, her parents stood unobstructed in front of her. Her mother clutched a makeup-stained tissue in her hand.

  “Hi,” Colt said, as though nothing had changed. As though Courtney was the same girl who’d left their house four weeks ago.

  Courtney swallowed. “Hi.”

  Silence.

  “What did you think of Courtney’s dance?” Colt said.

  Her mother wiped at her eye with the tissue. “I’m sorry, Courtney,” she said.

  Courtney’s brow wrinkled and she narrowed her eyes.

  “I didn’t realize. I didn’t know. I…” She trailed off.

  Courtney’s dad shifted his shoulders. “What your mother is trying to say is: that dance was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

  Courtney pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.

  “I didn’t know how extraordinary you’d become,” her mother said.

  Courtney raised a fist to her lips, sniffling. Her mother reached out with two manicured hands and cradled her head. She wiped at Courtney’s melting mascara with her thumbs.

  Beside her, Riya smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Oh,” Courtney said, pulling Riya forward. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, but it was too late to turn back now. They’d seen the kiss. Courtney was all in. “This is Riya.”

  Courtney’s mother looked Riya up and down without moving her head. “I remember her. From when you were children.”

  Courtney waited for more. But that was it. Her mother’s cold appraisal and her father’s silence. Their reactions weren’t glowing, but still far better than Courtney expected. No yelling or ultimatums or threats, at least.

  Riya’s chest expanded as she pulled in a deep breath. “Good to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Chastain,” she said.

  “Riya,” Courtney’s dad said by way of greeting. “Are your parents here?”

  Oh, shit. No, that could not happen. Courtney might die from the mortification of her parents and Riya’s parents having a discussion. That’s what her dad called it when he wanted to set someone straight. She would literally die. Like, until she was dead.

  “They should be arriving soon,” Riya said.

  “We’d like to have a discussion with them,” Courtney’s dad said.

  “That’s really not necessary,” Courtney said.

  Riya gave Courtney’s hand a surreptitious squeeze. “It’s fine, Court.”

  Courtney stared at Riya, trying to convey how much of a bad idea that was, but Riya either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

  Colt clapped his hands. “It’s too nice today to be wasting it in here. Let’s go outside.”

  Her parents followed him to the door, her mom grumbling something about her heels in the soft soil.

  “I have to change my shoes,” Courtney called. “I’ll catch up.”

  Steadfast, Riya stood next to Courtney.

  Courtney’s mother paused, frowning back at the two girls.

  “Come on, Mom,” Colt’s voice called in to her. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  With one final warning glance at Riya, Mrs. Chastain stepped out into the sunlight. Courtney let out a long breath.

  Riya rubbed her back. “That could’ve gone worse.”

  Courtney loosed a mirthless laugh. “Just wait. They haven’t talked to your parents yet.”

  A grin slid across Riya’s full lips. It baffled Courtney.

  “Why do you look so happy?”

  “Courtney, my parents have raised a happily, openly bisexual daughter across four red states. They are allies. With a capital A. They’re advocates. And they’re not scared of your parents.” The like you are went unspoken, mainly because Riya was too kind to say it out loud. But they both knew it was there.

  Courtney sat down on the bench to untie the ribbons of her ballet slippers. “My parents—”

  “Have finally met their match.”

  Courtney wrapped the ribbons around her slippers and retrieved her sandals from underneath a table. A flicker of hope warmed her limbs.

  A couple feet before they reached the door, Riya stopped her with a hand on her arm. Courtney turned to face her. Riya slid her hands behind Courtney’s neck and pulled her head down for a slow, sweet kiss.

  When the two strolled outside, Courtney spotted her parents and Colt talking to a tall brown-haired white man and a stunning, petite Indian woman near the parking lot. Riya’s parents.

  Mr. and Mrs. Chastain’s backs were to the cafeteria, but Colt stood sideways like a referee between two opposing teams. He noticed Riya and Courtney before the others and reached behind his back with his injured hand to make a subtle gesture. He pointed toward their cabin on the other side of the lake.

  Courtney grabbed Riya’s wrist and dashed for the spare concealment of a young tree. When they reached the full cover of the first girls’ cabin, both of them burst into a fit of giggles.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Riya gripped Courtney’s hips, pulling her closer. Closer. She didn’t feel like they would ever be close enough. Courtney’s soft pink lips teased Riya’s mercilessly.

  Everyone else had packed up and was on their way home, so they had the cabin to themselves for at least a little while longer.

  Courtney swept Riya’s hair into a ponytail and curled it around her wrist absent-mindedly. She gave the strands a soft tug, and they both collapsed onto Courtney’s bed. Though she’d already stuffed her sheets into a bag, the bed still smelled like rose petals.

  Riya traced a hand from Courtney’s hip up her side, stroking the smooth bare skin between her shoulder and the tank straps of the dance leotard. Courtney loosed a soft moan that made Riya’s skin sizzle.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Courtney sprang off the bed, leaping to her feet. Riya tried to reason with the jolt of disappointment that shot through her. Old habits died hard, she knew. She needed to give Courtney the one thing that felt impossible: time to adjust.

  Colt swung the door open three seconds after knocking. He held his good hand over his eyes. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  In one smooth motion, Courtney swept her ballet shoes out of a tote bag on the floor and threw them at him. The soles slapped against his hand and flopped to the ground. Riya got the feeling it wasn’t the first time she’d done exactly that.

  “Ha. Ha,” Courtney said.

  Colt dropped his hands, smiling. He pulled keys from his pocket and tossed them to Riya. They smacked painfully against her pinkie and clattered to the floor.

  Colt gave her a quizzical look. “If that were a spike, you would’ve bumped it perfectly.”

  “She can’t catch,” Courtney said. “Like, at all.”

  Riya knew she should be embarrassed by Courtney’s statement, but it actually pleased her that Courtney had noticed. She’d been paying attention.

  Riya scooped the keys up from the floor. She recognized the Duke University keychain immediately. “These are my dad’s.”

  Colt just nodded, grinning.

  “Why did you throw me my dad’s keys?”

  “Fozzie Bear basically kicked our parents out. They wanted more time to discuss ‘the situation’”—he put air quotes around the phrase—“so your parents are going to ride in the car with my parents to Charlotte. And you’re going to drive the three of us in your parents’ car.”

  More time? Was that a good or bad sign? “How’s it going?” Riya was almost too scared to ask.<
br />
  Colt laughed. Well, that was certainly a good sign. “Your parents should’ve been lawyers, Riya.”

  Courtney burst forward. “What does that mean?”

  “They’re totally subversive. By the time they make a point, my parents think they’ve won, but their minds are changed. It’s crazy. The Johnsons have facts and numbers and even Bible verses to back up everything they say. It’s like watching the twins play volleyball together.” He picked up Courtney’s bags with his left hand and tugged them on to his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  Riya picked up her own bags and followed Courtney out the door. Before Courtney closed it, Riya turned and said a silent good-bye to the place that had been her home for the past four weeks.

  The place that had given Courtney Chastain back to her.

  They tossed all of their bags into the trunk, and Courtney slid into the front passenger seat next to Riya. Colt stretched out on the back seat as much as he could. Once they were on the road, Colt pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket and swallowed one dry.

  He met Riya’s eyes in the rearview mirror, winked, and shut his eyes. Riya was lucky to have a friend like him. Courtney was downright blessed to have him as a brother. Since getting hurt, he’d done nothing but arrange miracles for Courtney. He’d probably delayed taking those painkillers, suffering who knew how much pain, so he could be sharp enough to modify and play the song.

  Riya guided the car over the turns and inclines that came with driving through the mountains. She went slower than the posted speed limits partly because she wasn’t comfortable with that kind of driving and partly because she was in no particular rush to get back.

  Riya followed the signs for the highway until they re-entered a cell service area. Courtney switched on the GPS navigation app on her phone and announced they had two and a half hours until they reached Charlotte.

  Two and a half hours until they returned to the real world.

  Courtney stretched her left arm over and rested her wrist on the seat behind Riya’s head. Watching the scenery pass outside the car window, Courtney twisted her fingers into the hair at the base of Riya’s neck. Flares of pleasure streaked down Riya’s spine.

  Riya let her foot off of the gas pedal a little bit more.

  Epilogue

  The final bell of the day rang out over Courtney’s AP History class. She vaulted to her feet and was out the door before the rest of her classmates had managed to stand. Courtney wove easily among the rising tide of students flooding the hall toward the Anatomy classroom. Riya appeared in the doorway, head turned sideways, chatting excitedly with one of her teammates about that night’s game. It was the first one of the season, and Riya had been worrying about it constantly.

  It was two weeks into the school year, so she’d seen Riya in her school uniform at least ten times. Still, every time, it stopped Courtney in her tracks. She’d always thought the uniforms were dumb and unflattering to everyone, but Riya had proven her totally wrong. She was a vision in the plaid skirt, navy tights, and matching navy blazer. Seriously, it was unfair to every other girl there.

  The Johnsons had somehow negotiated a tense peace between her and her parents. The Chastains were not happy about this “phase”—their word—but they didn’t openly hinder her relationship with Riya. “At least you can’t get pregnant with a girl,” her dad had said. Out loud. In front of Riya. Courtney had blushed so hard she thought blood might rush out of her eyeballs.

  And, bonus, they stopped trying to set her up with “nice young men,” aka the spawn of their political allies and work acquaintances.

  They were more supportive of her dancing, though, promising to attend a couple of her upcoming performances. They hadn’t been to a recital since she was eleven, so she wasn’t holding her breath, but there was hope. Her mom had begrudgingly admitted that Courtney would still be able to attend law school even if she studied dance during undergrad. It was a start.

  The students at St John’s had been hit or miss. A few were openly hostile—Bridget hadn’t been the last person she’d heard use the d-word—but most of them didn’t even seem to notice. She was sure plenty of people gossiped behind her back, but, somehow, Courtney couldn’t get herself worked up over it. She had Colt, Riya, and her closest friends. She didn’t need much else. If other people wanted to waste their time gossiping about her, she felt sorry for them.

  The moment Riya saw her in the hallway, her face lit up. Courtney smiled. She slipped an arm over Riya’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  “You coming to the game tonight?” Riya asked.

  Courtney stopped suddenly, fighting a smirk. “That’s tonight? Crap, I have to do this thing.”

  Riya’s smile slipped until Courtney burst out laughing. She tugged open the two buttons on her blazer, then pulled the sides wide open.

  She’d spent an hour last night painting on her shirt with glittery puff paint. It read “You Got Served” on top with a volleyball below, “#4” scrawled across the ball. She hadn’t planned on showing it to Riya until the game, but she’d been dying to reveal it all day and couldn’t wait any longer.

  She’d made one for Colt, too. He’d complain, but he’d wear it.

  “Nice,” Riya’s teammate said, admiring the shirt. “You know the lines on the volleyball are wrong, though, right?”

  Courtney dropped her head, staring at the ball with narrowed eyes. She frowned. “Are they?”

  Riya placed a hand on each side of Courtney’s face and lifted her head up.

  “Nope, it’s perfect.” A grin stretched fully across Riya’s face. “Courtney Chastain, I think I’m going to keep you.”

  Courtney returned her smile. “Riya Johnson, I’m not going to give you a choice.”

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  Acknowledgments

  First, I must send a thousand kisses to Mohammed, without whom I literally wouldn’t have survived writing this book. Thank you for cooking my meals and taking care of everything while I wrote, and for keeping me from a panic attack when I thought I’d lost all my edits. I love you to Andromeda and back.

  My undying appreciation goes to my agent, Rebecca Podos, for everything, but especially for supporting me veering off plan a bit so I could write this book. I can’t thank Stacy Abrams enough for shaping this story and pushing me to make it better at each step. Everyone on my Entangled team—Liz, Alycia, Christine, Heather, Debbie, Melanie, Katie, Beth, and more I haven’t yet “met”—y’all are the best in the business and I’m so thrilled to be part of the family.

  I know I kind of disappeared from the world while I wrote this book, so I have to give a shout-out to my friends and wally players who welcomed me back with only a little good-natured grumbling. I’ll always come back for y’all.

  About the Author

  Sarah is a 30-something YA author who currently lives in Orlando with a 60-lb mutt who thinks he’s a Chihuahua. She believes that some boys are worth trusting, all girls have power, and dragons are people, too.

  She’s a proud member of the Gator Nation and has a BS in Mechanical Engineering, but has switched careers entirely. She now works as an Event Planner for a County Library.

  Find out more about her at www.sarahnicolas.com, and check her out on twitter @sarah_nicolas.

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