Scorn of Secrets

by B Truly

  She finally has a comeback. “You don’t wanna cross me, slut.”

  “I’m done with this conversation. Here’s how it’s going to go, Jennifer. If you even look at me wrong, I’ll let Principal Jones hear this. Mind you, I also have that ice cream video with witnesses of you pushing me.”

  “I don’t believe you’re that bold,” is all she can muster.

  “Try me if you think I won’t. I’ll be saving this recording for safe keeping.” I laugh to add to the effect. “As Shay put it, I have you guys by the balls.”

  Justin moved closer during our conversation. Jennifer spots him in her peripheral vision. He waves.

  “You two deserve each other.”

  She glares at me with pure loathing before bumping my shoulder as she pushes past me. Hopefully, that will be the end of it. I tried my best to turn the other cheek and be the better person. Jennifer made doing so impossible, forcing me to take a stand. Today, she learned that you reap what you sow.

  * * *

  “You should let me drive home,” I suggest to Justin. I don’t want to lose my skill by being chauffered around all the time.

  His eyebrows rise. “You want to drive my baby? Do you even have a license?”

  “I’ll be seventeen in two months. Yes, I have a license. I got it last year.”

  “How well can you drive?”

  I place my hand on my hip. “Well enough.”

  Justin nibbles on his full bottom lip. “I must really like you. But if you wreck my baby, you’ll be in trouble.”

  He gives me the keys, and I smirk at him. “She’ll be in good hands.”

  I’ve never driven a vehicle this big before. It’s a little intimidating at first, but I get the hang of it quickly. I drive below the speed limit and Justin is still giving me directions like he’s my Driver’s Ed teacher.

  “You’re making me nervous.” Justin’s quiet for a spell until I turn the next corner, when he tells me I went too fast. “You must have another definition of fast if you think fifteen miles per hours is. Take a chill pill.”

  Justin wants me to stop to get gas. While he’s pumping the gas, my cell pings—a text from his brother.

  Just got home & someone ate all the damn Doritos. Tell my prick bro 2 stop & get some.

  Justin finishes pumping the gas and opens the passenger door. “Did you eat all the damn Doritos?” I ask. He scrunches his nose, causing me to giggle.

  “Yeah, I ate them.”

  Justin has a hearty appetite like me. One of many traits I love about him. “Well, your bro pegged you as the thief and he wants you to buy some more.”

  Justin’s eyes reach the heavens. “Lucky for him, I happen to already be at the store. You want anything?”

  “I’ll take a bag of damn Doritos, too.”

  Justin bursts out laughing. “Madi, what am I going to do with you?”

  * * *

  Justin decides to teach me how to cook, officially—not just assisting. Watching and following his cooking instructions does help to take my mind off the drama lately. My feelings for Justin grow stronger, realizing that has been his intention—to distract me. We’re preparing a dish when the cocky twin strolls in.

  Jackson hops up on a bar stool. “What are you two love birds cooking?”

  “Lasagna,” I reply.

  “Is it going to be good?”

  “Justin is showing me what to do, so I hope it will be.”

  “I might try it.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” I tease. Justin snorts.

  “Madi is going to be a good cook, taking pointers from me,” Justin gloats to Jackson.

  “Madi?” Jackson scrunches his nose.

  “It’s his nickname for me.” I beam at Justin.

  Jackson rolls his eyes. “Y’all are going to make me hurl in my mouth.”

  Justin chuckles. “You’re just jealous I don’t have a cute nickname for you.”

  Tanya waltzes in, grabbing a drink from the fridge. “Please tell me you’re not getting a beer,” Jackson jokes with Tanya.

  Justin bursts out laughing. I attempt to hold in mine, knowing Tanya is sensitive about her condition.

  “What do you mean?” Tanya pokes out her lips.

  Jackson raises his eyebrows. “You really don’t remember your throw down with Kim?”

  “Actually, I don’t. You know that drinking does something crazy to me.”

  “No more beer for you,” Jackson teases.

  “Shut it, Jay.” Tanya playfully hits his arm.

  “No, Jackson’s right,” Justin speaks up. “We saw first-hand what alcohol does to you and it isn’t pretty. I’m the one who had to carry you outta there.”

  Tanya smirks at Justin.

  “Hey, cut her some slack, Justin. It’s not something she can control,” Jackson chastises, after he’s the one who started it.

  “Thanks, Jay.” Tanya graces him with a smile.

  Justin agrees with me. “Really? You’re bipolar. You are the one who brought it up, Jay.”

  “When’s dinner gonna be ready?” asks Jackson, changing the subject. “I’m starving.”

  “Not for at least an hour,” Justin answers.

  “Are you sure you want to eat my cooking?” I can’t help teasing him.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, and since you’re slaving over the stove, I have no choice but to eat it.”

  I have to laugh at Jackson’s remark.

  “You’re so full of it,” Justin tells his twin.

  “That’s why you love me.” Jackson winks.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  They both chuckle. Tanya shakes her head at them, leaving the kitchen.

  “We’ll holler when it’s done. But if you’re going to stand around yapping, then you might as well help,” Justin calls Jackson out.

  “Say no more.” Jackson jumps up. “I’m outta here.”

  22

  Past Photographs

  Christmas break arrives and I’m looking forward to having two weeks off. For the most part, I enjoy school, except for all the unwanted attention and vicious glares. It will be a nice break to get away from being the topic of gossip.

  Christmas time has always been my favorite holiday, loving to spend time with my family. I miss Gigi, Dari, and most of all, my dad. This Christmas won’t be as bad as I initially thought. If I am truthful, I’m excited about it because of Justin. Being with him makes it better.

  For the first time since my dad’s death and moving to a new city with a ready-made family, I have high hopes for what my future will bring.

  Justin’s mouth is pulled into a tight line as he comes into the game room. I’m sitting in the window nook where I often read. “What’s wrong?” I can tell by the expression on his face something is bothering him.

  “I was in the attic and I ran across something I want to show you.”

  “Okay, lead the way.”

  I stand, following him down the hall. We pass our bedrooms, rounding the corner to a door at the far end of the hall. In this enormous, nine-thousand-square-foot home, the attic has a door with a narrow staircase leading up to it. Justin opens the door. I hesitate, wondering what he wants to show me. Going up the stairs, I’m wary of the attic’s setting. The tighter space in the stairway makes me feel closed in. Maybe I’m claustrophobic.

  “It’s creepy in here.”

  Justin chuckles. “There’s no ghosts or goblins lurking about. The space opens at the top and there is more light.”

  Good to know. As we reach the top, the attic does open into a huge space that divides in different sections. The ceiling looks the standard height of eight feet.

  “Are you searching for something in here?” I guess.

  “I was looking for an old family photo album.”

  “When’s the last time you saw it?”

  “Before we moved in. I remember it was packed in a box with other photo albums. All the unopened boxes got stored up here. It’s a large, fancy gol
d album. There are photos of me and my mom I wanted to show you.”

  Aw, how sweet.

  Justin shifts his weight. “While I was searching for it, I found something else.”

  His tone makes the hairs on my arms rise. I follow him to the right, where there are multiple stacks of boxes. He retrieves a yearbook, and the title of the school catches my eye. Winsten, the high school Tanya and I attended. It’s also the high school our mom graduated from. Mama had mentioned Regan was originally from Baton Rouge but left it at that.

  “Your father went to Winsten?” I blurt.

  “Yeah. He graduated from there.”

  Justin turns to the senior photos, showing me his dad’s picture, and then flips to my mom’s sophomore photo. She’s two years younger. My nose scrunches. “I didn’t know our parents graduated from the same high school.”

  “I wasn’t aware, either. I knew my father graduated from Winsten, but I never thought much about it.”

  “Maybe it’s a coincidence they went to the same high school. They just didn’t know each other then.”

  Justin snorts. “I think they did know each other in high school.” He turns pages of the yearbook to the sport pictures, coming upon the track team. There is a group photograph of the guys and girls on the team with two coaches. Regan and Mama are among them.

  “So they were on the track team together.”

  “Yeah, and I also found these pictures stuffed inside the yearbook.”

  Justin hands me the photographs. In the photos, they’re at a New Year’s Eve party together and there’s a banner of the year up behind them. In the pictures they’re embracing each other and holding hands. “Well, these pictures confirm them knowing each other.”

  “Those pictures were taken a couple of years after my dad graduated from high school.” Justin scratches his temple. “I wonder why Dad made it seem like he moved to Houston as soon as he graduated.”

  “He could have returned to Baton Rouge to visit my mom. But then, why not just tell us they were high school sweethearts or started dating afterward?”

  “Good question.” Justin rubs his chin. “Maybe their relationship ended badly and that’s why they didn’t tell us they dated in the past?”

  “It’s a possibility. It’s not like Mama would have gossiped about it with me, anyway—maybe Tanya.” I shrug. “My parents were married for fifteen years, and it seems like she jumped into another relationship so quickly. I would have felt better knowing she used to date your dad.”

  “Maybe they have that old-school mentality, where grown folks don’t discuss their business with their kids.”

  Justin uses air quotes on the word business. I laugh. “That’s probably the reason, because it’s none of our business.” Justin chuckles, too. “Did you find anything else?”

  “Only these pictures, proving our parents used to have a thing going on before we were even born.”

  “Well, there is still the issue of finding the missing photo album you were searching for. I’ll help you.”

  We go through a couple more boxes. Soon after, I come across a beautiful gold album. I raise it. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Justin leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re my lucky charm.”

  I brush aside my feeling of unease, unsure why the fact about our parents dating in the past bothers me.

  23

  Deck the Halls

  Tanya’s eighteenth birthday is right before Christmas, and we go out to Pappadeaux to eat. I’ve never been there. They have the best seafood. The shrimp is delicious. Mama bought Tanya a gorgeous cake from a high-end, well-known bakery called Three Brothers. After dinner, the restaurant servers sing happy birthday. The cake lives up to its name. It’s to die for. Mama and Regan give Tanya a five-hundred-dollar gift card. Mama also tells Tanya that she will get her real birthday gift for Christmas.

  * * *

  Mama goes all-out for the Christmas holiday. She hires a team to decorate the formal dining and living room. They also put up a huge, natural eight-foot tree. I love how it makes our entire living area smell like pine. Justin and I ask to decorate the tree. Mama grants us permission as long as we finish it on time. So far, we’re not doing a good job, only half-way done with decorating. Justin keeps cracking jokes, or when he passes by, he smacks my rear end. He managed to get the lights up, and then I helped him spread around red and gold garland.

  As he passes by me, I feel a pop on my behind—well, more like a pop-squeeze. I yelp. “Stop it.” I try to say it firmly, failing miserably with a huge grin on my face.

  “Can’t help it. I love that rump of yours.”

  My cheeks enflame. Justin is a butt-man, commenting many times how much he loves my curvy backside. I’m fully aware my behind is the biggest thing on my body. Wearing a size five only makes it stand out more. My boobs are only an average B cup. I’m not busty like Mama or Tanya. My rear end makes up for it and is probably why I can’t fit into a size three.

  I begin placing ornaments on the tree. Justin comes closer, putting on different kinds. Before reaching in a box for more, he pecks me on my lips. I suck in a deep breath, glancing around. Mama has gone out. I’m not sure if Regan is here, but I don’t want to risk either of our parents catching us smooching.

  “No kissing out in the open,” I whisper, narrowing my eyes.

  “Fine,” he pouts, like a kid getting his lollypop taken away.

  “If you don’t stop flirting, we’re never going to finish.”

  “Well, I haven’t kissed you in hours.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? You kissed me right before we started on the tree.” Justin gives me a heated look that shoots a tremor through me.

  “I mean a real kiss full of mouth action.”

  Omg! Justin is getting really comfortable around me. Every so often, he’ll lay a line on me I don’t know what to do with. What makes it so hot is that he’s dead serious. “Behave, and then maybe I’ll kiss you later.”

  Poking out his lips, he replies, “I don’t know if I can wait until later.”

  Another thrill jolts down my spine. “You definitely don’t want to hear my mama’s mouth. She expects this done tonight so she can show off the house at her dinner party.”

  “Does she always get this into Christmas? Hire people to decorate?”

  “We’ve always had a tree and decorations. She only hired people to decorate this time because she was able to spend your father’s money.” Justin shakes his head, chuckling. “My dad would’ve had a coronary if she’d hired Christmas help.”

  “Your mom is like my pop. They both love the finer things in life.”

  “More like, she loves to show off every chance she gets.”

  He laughs again. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

  “For what?”

  “A kiss?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Haven’t you learned? I don’t like taking no for an answer.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m beginning to figure that out.” Sighing, I give in. “One kiss, but then we get the tree done.”

  “Deal, but make it good.”

  We lean into each other just when Regan pops into the room.

  “Hey guys, the tree looks great.”

  Both of us pull back abruptly. I want to strangle Justin! My body feels flushed and I know my cheeks match. Guilt is written on my face.

  “Hi, Dad.” Justin’s voice sounds scratchy.

  “Do you two need any help?”

  “No, we’re making good progress,” Justin answers, winking at me.

  I arch my eyebrows at him, and he smirks.

  “Well, keep up the great work,” his dad tells us.

  That was too close. We’re going to have to get our touchy hormones under control before we get busted.

  * * *

  Justin follows behind me as I check out his bedroom. I’d let him have it after the almost tree-kissing incident.
Yet, somehow, he convinces me to come into his room. Justin promises to be on his best behavior. The first surprise is how clean his room is. No clothes are on the floor or trash, for that matter, and his bed is made up.

  “You room is tidy.”

  “I don’t like clutter. Jackson is the messy twin. You should see his room. His clothes are everywhere. It’s anyone’s guess what is on his floor, and I don’t think he’s made up his bed one day in his life.”

  I giggle. “Sounds like Tanya. I guess we have another thing in common. I’m a neat freak.” He chuckles. His walls are a graphite gray color. “Your wall color is nice.”

  His lips curve up sideways. I love his crooked smile. Basketball posters galore line his walls. Kinda strange it’s my first time in his room, since I’ve been living here for over four months. We’ve always hung out in either the game or media room. Coming in his bedroom feels more intimate. I am curious about his likes. His queen-sized bed is covered with a gray and black comforter.

  “Have you figured out gray’s my favorite color?”

  “I was starting to wonder.” It’s funny how we’ve discussed so many things, but not our favorite color. Jackson knows what mine is because he’d come into my bedroom after I first moved in.

  “What’s yours?”

  “Purple.” I stroll over to his black wooden desk. A laptop with books lay on it, also several frames. One photo is of him and his brother, another of his beautiful mother. Her skin is the color of honey—several shades lighter than Justin’s. But he resembles his mom—same hazel eyes, long lashes, a more rounded nose, and high cheek bones. I’ve seen her in a couple of photographs around the house. This single-frame picture of her seems special. The photo is a headshot of her laughing outdoors. She has two deep dimples. The image captures her beauty.

  “This is a beautiful photo of your mother.”

  Justin picks it up—his eyes fill with love. “Thank you.”

  “You look like her.”

  Justin’s hand brushes over his face. “My looks are one thing I’ll always have of her.”

  “I feel the same way about my dad. I’m the spitting image of him.”