Her Hidden Past

by Michela DiMarco

  The last day of school before the Christmas break was a Friday, so school would be closed for two full weeks. While Brooklyn was thrilled to have that much time away from classes and homework, and to be able to catch up on some sleep, she really wasn’t looking forward to a holiday without her real family. It had always been her favorite time of year, but now it would be a constant reminder that her family was gone, and she was alone. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through, and wondered if she would leave town alone when she was older, just to get away. She pondered where she would escape to, and settled on Mallorca, Spain, the largest Balearic Island in the Mediterranean, home to her favorite tennis player, Rafael Nadal.

  Morning classes were easy on the day before winter break as the kids were anxious for the day to end so their vacation could begin. In French, the class had to read out loud six things they would be doing during the next two weeks. There was a lot of laughing from students. Brooklyn could only imagine what they were saying, since she hadn’t a clue. Math was the only morning class where they actually did work, which she didn’t mind.

  The bell rang at the end of the last morning class and everyone headed into the cafeteria for lunch. Brooklyn met Blair and they went through the cold lunch line together with Brooklyn grabbing her usual turkey sandwich, raw carrots, and an apple. Blair grabbed the same lunch except she substituted celery for carrots. They had beaten the crowd to the lunch line so they were the first to arrive at the table.

  “I’m so excited for the break,” said Blair. “Are you going to see your parents?”

  “Nope,” Brooklyn answered, taking a bite of her sandwich, trying to hide the awkwardness that she was suddenly feeling, once again having to lie about her parents.

  “That’s going to be kind of weird, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah . . . I don’t . . . probably, I guess.”

  The boys walked over with trays of piping-hot turkey, mixed vegetables, and stuffing with cranberry sauce.

  “Look at this crap. How am I supposed to eat this?” asked Ben.

  “I don’t get why you go through the hot line and then complain about it every day,” laughed Brooklyn.

  “Oh, and your lunch is better? Since you’ve been here you have eaten the same exact lunch every day. Why don’t you try something different?”

  “You don’t hear me complaining,” she answered, waving a carrot stick in the air. “I’m perfectly content with my lunch.”

  “It’s kind of mushy,” said Adam, looking disappointed at his stuffing.

  “I’m used to this. It’s just like my Christmas dinner,” exclaimed Jordan. Everyone looked up at him. “What? My mom can’t cook,” he said, taking a spoonful of food.

  “Brooklyn, I think that we should have a sleepover this weekend,” declared Blair.

  “Umm . . . I’m not sure what we’re doing,” she replied nervously.

  “We’re not doing anything,” said Ben, hinting that it was okay for her to socialize. Brooklyn was nervous. She wanted to have a girls’ night, but was hesitant about committing to a sleepover. The last thing she wanted was to wake up screaming in the middle of the night from one of her frequent nightmares and have Blair there to witness it.

  “Well, can you ask your aunt?”

  “Yeah . . . I guess I can ask her.”

  “Great, I have dance until six-thirty, but we can get together after that. I’m excited!”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Brooklyn, forcing a smile.

  “Just call me if she says no, otherwise I’ll bring us dinner.”

  “What are you bringing?” asked Ben.

  “Nothing for you. It’s a girls’ night only,” snapped Blair.

  “Except for boyfriends. I’m coming over,” said Jordan. “Is that cool?” he directed his question at Ben.

  Ben looked at Brooklyn, who looked uncomfortable enough as it was. As fun as it sounded to have a group of guys and girls over at the house that night, he realized that it might be a bit overwhelming for her. “Uh, my mom would probably kill me if we interrupted girl night,” answered Ben.

  Noticing Brooklyn’s apparent hesitation, Adam decided to change the subject. “Ben, what did you buy your girlfriend for Christmas?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, trying to swallow a bite of turkey.

  “You’re so stupid! You’ll never hear the end of it,” Blair blurted out.

  “Oh, like you care whether or not she gets mad,” he answered.

  “I care if she’s going to take her anger out on everyone else, especially me.”

  “Huh,” Ben thought for a second. “Well, what has she done for me?”

  “Apparently not what you want,” Jordan said, laughing.

  Blair smacked his arm. “I don’t think that’s very funny.”

  “Sorry babe. But, it’s Ben and Sara,” Jordan said. “Come on, she’s such a tease.”

  “What do you think, Brooklyn? Should Ben get Sara something?” Blair asked.

  “I don’t know. You guys have known Sara for a much longer time than I have so I’m not really sure. I guess . . . I mean what do you get the girl who already has everything?” Brooklyn was saved by the sound of the bell signaling that it was time to go to class.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by. With only gym class to go, Brooklyn was beginning to get excited for the vacation to start. Blair was waiting for her outside the locker-room door. “Bad news, we’re swimming today in gym,” pouted Blair.

  “Really? I love swimming!” exclaimed Brooklyn.

  Blair made a disgusted face. “Well, so do I, but I hate swimming in gym class. All the boys stare at us like we’re pieces of meat. And it’s not like we do anything fun in the water. It’s usually hard.”

  The girls changed into the navy Speedo suits that were part of the gym uniform. They walked out onto the pool deck to find Sara already touching Ben’s bare chest. He was tall and skinny, and didn’t have bulging muscles, and Brooklyn was pretty grossed out at the sight of Sara being all over him right there in gym class.

  “I think I just threw up in my mouth,” said Blair as the girls walked past the twosome to sit on the other side of Ben with Nate, Jordan, and Adam. “Ben is no Michael Phelps.”

  Brooklyn could not help but notice Adam’s tall, muscular frame. It came as no surprise that he was the captain of the football team. He looked more like a junior than a freshman.

  “All right,” shouted Mr. Peters. “We are going to be doing some water aerobics, treading water, and a little swimming. Get in the pool.” The class walked to the side of the pool, most of them feeling a bit self-conscious. The boys and girls reflected the full spectrum of different shapes and sizes and even those with the better appearances felt awkward in this setting. While they knew that the initial plunge into the water would be a shock to their systems, it was still preferable to lingering on the pool deck. So it did not take long for the class to be in the water, with the exception of Sara.

  “Umm, Mr. Peters, I have a stomach ache,” said Sara.

  “You seemed fine a minute ago when you couldn’t keep your hands off Mr. Thompson. You need to get in the water if you have any desire to get credit for this class,” he answered, pointing to the pool. “Fine,” she snapped. She took her time walking the five feet to the side of the pool as the rest of the class watched from inside the warm water. After piling her hair on the top of her head and securing it with a rubber band, she sat down on the side of the pool and slowly dangled her legs in the water. Stephanie swam over to the side to wait for her.

  “In the pool now, Sara. This isn’t a joke.” warned Mr. Peters. Sara glared up at him as she scooted her body into the water. “Tread water for five minutes with your hands above your head and chin above the water. Three, two, one, go.”

  Brooklyn started moving her legs in a figure eight motion at a steady pace. She was a natural at treading water, and could do it in her sleep. S
he looked over at Blair, whose head was bobbing up and down; the water level was moving between her chin and her nose.

  “How do you do this?” asked Blair. “You’re barely moving!” “Move your legs in a figure eight.”

  “What’s a figure eight?”

  Brooklyn tried to her best to explain what she was doing, but it was hard to show her what she was doing underwater because Blair couldn’t go underwater to see it. One of the women from the front office came into the pool area, waiving Mr. Peters out into the hall.

  “I’ll be right back. Keep going. Three-and-a-half more minutes,” he said, walking into the hall. That’s not smart, thought Brooklyn as she continued to tread water better than the rest of the class. By now, most of the kids from the class were resting their arms under the water with their heads tilted back, making it much easier for them to float, which was clearly less work. Brooklyn and Blair kept treading water in the back of the pack. There was a big splash and Sara started screaming.

  “My makeup!” she screeched. “Who did that?”

  There was no response other than laughter. Jordan dove under the water and swam over to where Brooklyn and Blair were.

  “Ladies,” he said. “You both look sexy in your Speedos. How is it going back here?”

  “Did you splash Sara?” Brooklyn asked.

  “Of course,” he replied smiling. “My makeup!’” he said sarcastically.

  “I knew there was a good reason I went out with you,” said Blair as she quickly pecked him on the cheek. Adam and Nate swam over after Jordan. Ben was still in the front of the pool, arguing with Sara over being splashed. The door opened, and Mr. Peters walked back in.

  “Time’s up, guys. Get down to the shallow end for water aerobics.”

  “Mr. Peters, someone splashed me,” whined Sara.

  “Sara, you’re in a pool. You’re going to get wet so you need to deal with it.”

  Water aerobics turned out to be pretty funny because the boys in the class turned everything into a joke. From marching in place to running in wide circles, they were trying to chase each other around the shallow end. Mr. Peters was being unusually lenient because it was the last class before Christmas break.

  After twenty minutes of water aerobics, Mr. Peters passed out goggles and divided the class into six teams of four for relay races. Brooklyn ended up on a team with Adam and two girls whom she had not met before, Sammy and Carly. Each member on the team had to swim two lengths of the pool. Sammy and Carly thought that Adam should start the team off because he was the only guy, and they thought he could get them a little bit of a lead. Carly wanted to go second, and she picked Brooklyn to go third, not yet knowing that Brooklyn was the fastest swimmer in the class. Typically, the fastest person on the team would swim the anchor leg, which is last, but this was only gym class and there was nothing to win so Brooklyn didn’t offer to change the order.

  “Take you mark, GO!” Mr. Peters shouted, and the first leg was underway.

  Everyone else was gathered on the side of the pool, clapping and cheering, except for the next person in line for each of the teams, anxiously waiting his or her turn. Adam was a decent swimmer for a non-swimmer, and the girls were right in picking him to lead off. He was ahead of the pack by over a body’s length. After he touched the wall, Carly hesitated too long before diving in, so the other teams caught up to her. By the time she reached the wall on the far end of the pool, their team was in fourth and fading fast. Brooklyn put her hands together and stretched her arms high above her head. Then she shook her arms out to the side and jumped up and down three times to quickly stretch her calf muscles.

  “What is she doing? This isn’t the Olympics,” she heard Sara say, followed by laughing and snickering. Brooklyn put on her goggles and restlessly waited for Carly to reach the wall. The first team touched the wall, followed by the second and third. A few more seconds went by and fourth and fifth touched. Finally, Carly, in dead-last place reached for the wall. Carly’s fingers barely touched the wall, and Brooklyn darted off, diving effortlessly into the rippling water.

  As soon as her legs were in, she started kicking rapidly in a streamlined position, trying to stay under as long as possible. When she broke through, her arms started turning over twice as fast as the rest of the teams in the pool. At the end of the first length, she reached the wall before three of the teams. She did a flip turn and glided off the wall again in a tight streamline, just a few feet away from catching the first two teams. Halfway through the second length, she had passed the remaining teams and was now trying to put as much distance between herself and the rest of the people in the pool. She kicked a little harder and turned her arms over a little faster. When she reached the wall, she pulled off her goggles and looked back to see where everyone else was. The closest team was still about ten feet out! Adam and Carly were cheering wildly. Adam extended his hands down and helped pull Brooklyn out of the water. She looked back down the pool and saw that Sammy had made it through the first turn, maintaining the lead.

  “Nice job!” Adam said with a huge smile. “I had no idea you were a swimmer.”

  “Yeah, I swim every day.”

  “Sometimes twice a day because she’s a freak,” said Ben, walking by. “Check it out. Sara’s in the water now and she’s pretty bad,” he snickered.

  “Come on, Sammy!” Brooklyn, Carly, and Adam all shouted.

  Sammy touched the wall first so the comeback was complete. Blair came over from the lane that she had swum in and hugged Brooklyn.

  “Wow! That was awesome! You never told me you were a swimmer!”

  “I don’t know, I guess I’m not used to talking about myself.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I want to learn everything about you.” Brooklyn’s smile abruptly ended and Blair sensed something was wrong. “Uh . . . we’ll start slowly.”

  “Okay,” answered Brooklyn, thinking that there was only so much she would be able to talk about with Blair. The hardest part about having a new best friend who was anxious to get to know her was the fact that there were so many secrets that could never come out. The girls went into the locker room to dry off and change back into their clothes after class, and then tried to dry their hair as best as they could under the hand dryers so they didn’t get sick when they went outside into the cold December air.

  When they exited the locker room, Brooklyn noticed Gabe anxiously waiting in the hallway. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Mom said it’s fine,” said Gabe. Then he spotted Blair and immediately went flush. “Hi, Blair.”

  “Hi, cutie,” she answered, smiling at him.

  “What’s fine?” Brooklyn asked.

  “It’s fine that Blair sleeps over tonight . . . Ben said you were going to ask.”

  “Oh. Cool,” said Brooklyn, concerned that somehow since lunch Ben had told Gabe, who went to a different school, to ask Mary about the sleepover. She was beginning to realize that things didn’t say quiet for long in the Thompson family. She turned to face Blair. “So tonight after dance?”

  “Perfect. Thanks, stud,” Blair said to Gabe. He grinned from ear to ear and ran toward the car. “He’s so sweet,” she added.