Secrets of the Moon

by Kristy Centeno

  “He isn’t my boyfriend,” I snapped.

  Everyone laughed except Angela, who hadn’t said a single word throughout the entire meal. I found her behavior bizarre, since she was a bit of a chatterbox, but it seemed as if Kyran’s overall presence had stunned her into silence. No one else noticed how silent she’d suddenly become, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing so I just ignored it.

  After lunch, the girls and I practically ran out the door to make it back in time for our afternoon classes, which ran from one to four-thirty.

  Much to my surprise, however, Kyran didn’t return for the rest of his classes. I had been looking forward to spending more time with him and getting to know him some more, but he didn’t show up. His absence disappointed me much more than I cared to admit. Meeting him had improved my normally restless spirit. It had been a while since a guy had riled me up this way, and it actually felt good to feel like a girl again. Unfortunately, getting to know him would have to wait.

  After my last class ended at four-thirty p.m., I reunited with some of my friends and together we headed toward Tracy’s car.

  “Hey, what took you?” Rosa asked as soon as she caught sight of me. Her boyfriend Miguel was with her, his arm tightly wrapped around her waist.

  “I was finishing a last minute lab, that’s all,” I said in order to reassure the group I wasn’t late because of Kyran.

  “Hey Marjie, what’s all this I hear about you having a boyfriend?” Miguel grinned at me.

  “You guys suck. We just met. Get that through your thick skulls!” They all laughed and I scoffed. “Grow up!” What was it with everyone acting like a bunch of immature teenagers all of a sudden?

  “No, seriously, where is Mister Hunk?” Tracy began searching the parking lot for a glimpse of Kyran.

  “He didn’t show up for the rest of the classes,” I said, bursting her bubble.

  “Aw, that’s just too bad,” Rosa said while watching for Miguel’s reaction. “I wanted to see him again.”

  Miguel gave her a playful shove. “Hey!”

  If there was one thing Rosa loved to do more than anything else, it was to make Miguel jealous. “What? I wanted to see him so I could point him out to you. You know, ’cause he’s Marjie’s new love interest and all.” She winked at me.

  “Why are you idiots all picking on me all of sudden?” I retorted. Of course, that only served to fuel their humor.

  “Come on, we have to leave so we can get ready for the party tonight.” Miguel started to pull Rosa away toward his car. I raised my hand to get their attention and they halted mid-step.

  “What party?” I gazed at the couple, wondering the whole time who was having a party and why I didn’t know anything about it.

  “Kenny’s birthday bash,” Miguel replied, a look of puzzlement on his face.

  My face scrunched as I recalled the invitation I’d tossed in the trash about a month ago. “That’s tonight?”

  “Sure is. Come on, girl, don’t tell me you forgot.” Miguel tossed me an incredulous look. “Kenny will have a fit if you don’t go.” Miguel and Rosa looked at me expectantly.

  Why would Kenny, the geek-gone-hunk after his fifteenth birthday, care if I went to his birthday party or not? Oh, yeah, he sorta had a crush on me and had invited me personally to this party, which I’d completely forgotten about.

  “I don’t know if I can make it. I mean with this being a school night and all.”

  “Geez, girl, it’s not like you’re twelve,” Miguel protested.

  “I know that, but I don’t mean it like that.” I lowered my voice, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that a twelve-year-old’s social life was probably more active than mine.

  “Yeah, we know. Make something up,” Claire added with a shrug of the shoulder.

  As if that’s so easy for me to do. “Fine, whatever, I’ll see you guys later,” I said.

  Miguel and Rosa headed toward his car and drove off soon after. As Angela waited to be picked up by her mother, I waited with her, hoping that she’d open up since she’d remained so quiet throughout the day. Something about her quiet demeanor unnerved me.

  “Are you going to the party, Angie?” I opted for making small talk, hoping she’d say something. Anything, really.

  She smiled sadly. “I don’t think so, at least not tonight. I have my first test tomorrow and I have to study.”

  Though I suspected she was taking a rain check due to another reason, I decided not to comment about it. If she didn’t feel like talking, I thought it best not to push her.

  When Angela’s mother drove up in her black Jaguar, I turned away and faced Angie instead. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  Angela nodded and started to push her wheelchair toward the car waiting for her. Seconds later, Angela’s mother climbed out to help her inside. As soon as she spotted me, she scowled angrily, inciting me into avoiding the accusatory glare of the hateful woman. The woman detested me. Despite the many times Angela stood up for me by pointing out that she hadn’t worn her seatbelt that night, her mother still blamed me for what happened.

  “Come on, Marjie, let’s get you home.” Tracy shouted so Angela’s mother could hear.

  “Stop it, Trace, she hates me enough already,” I whispered and got inside the car.

  Claire observed Angela and her mother for a moment longer before turning around to face me. “That woman is nothing but a big pain in the behind. If anything, she should hate us all. Tracy was the one that provided us with the beers. And it was our idea to go joyriding up on Deadman’s Curve. You want to know what I think?” she said and I nodded. “I think she didn’t like you before the accident, but didn’t let it show because Angie and you were really close. Then the car accident happened and boom! Just like that she decided that hating you was okay.”

  “You know, she ought to get over it, already. We’re as much at fault as you are. She’s just being a bitch.” Tracy frowned. “Look, she just wants somebody aside from her daughter to blame for what happened. And naturally she chose you because you were driving.”

  “I think you’re probably right.” As much as it hurt to admit it, I had a feeling Tracy was right.

  “I know I am. I could care less if she hates me or not. I don’t like her either. She can kiss my ass for all I care.”

  Claire laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

  I settled on the back seat and stared out the window as we drove off the campus parking lot. We followed our usual routine and dropped Claire off at her place, then drove down to my house. Tracy dropped me off, saying she would stop by at eight to pick me up for the party. I agreed despite the fact that I had no idea how my father would react once I asked him. Getting my parents to trust me to go to this party would probably prove to be more difficult than I thought, but I could at least give it a try.

  When I arrived home, the first thing I noted was my father’s ill temper. Realizing he was in a foul mood, I decided not to open my mouth and sauntered right past him. Judging by how he muttered under his breath as he washed his four-door sedan, I knew that bringing up the party subject would probably upset him further. So keeping that in mind, I simply strolled right up the steps, across the porch, and hurried into the house where I found my stepmother, Vicki, in the kitchen preparing dinner while my two stepsisters, Nanette and Cynthia, sat around the dining table, finishing up their homework.

  “Hey, Vicki, what’s new?” I opened the fridge to help myself to a Pepsi.

  “Nothing much,” she said as she fought to keep a lock of hair, which had escaped from the tight bun keeping her normally curly black mane tied back, away from her face. It was obvious by the way she moved quickly about the kitchen that she wasn’t too happy either.

  “Why is Dad washing the car?” I asked, trying my best to make small talk with her. “Is he going somewhere?”

  “Yeah, he’s going out of town for a few days,” she replied.

  “Why?” Hopefully, I sounded disin
terested.

  “Something to do with his job. I don’t really know what it’s about. I didn’t ask.” She sounded irritated, which led me to believe they’d argued.

  “You don’t sound so happy about it either.” As I sat on one of the available chairs, Nanette offered me her homework so I could assess it. Reaching out for the notebook, I quickly scanned the page, looking for possible errors.

  “I’m not. You know how much I hate these trips.” Vicki let out a breath of air, tucked the loose lock of hair behind her left ear, and said, “They make him work too hard, and no offense, but your father isn’t such a young man anymore.”

  Normally, I would have felt annoyance at those words. But I knew Vicki well enough to know she felt nothing but genuine concern for my stubborn father. While my forty-two-year-old father could hardly be considered old, the stress of the past thirteen months had had negative effects on him physically as well as emotionally. He’d lost about twenty-five pounds, had dark circles under his once vibrant brown eyes, and though it had never been in his personality to swear, lately he’d done so often. Though he only did it when he was outside, since I helped with the outdoor chores, I’d heard enough to make me blush.

  “Yeah, I know how it is.” After marking off the math problems that were incorrect with a pencil, I handed the notebook back to Nanette. She nodded and started correcting them.

  “By the way, Marjorie, your therapist called.” The instant Vicki said that, my entire body went numb.

  “What for?” I asked, hoping to sound unfazed. “Is there a problem?”

  “You need to go pick up your prescriptions.”

  All the tension left my body in a second and I sighed in relief. For a moment there I thought he’d called to complain about me after our last meeting. My father would be super angry if Doctor Funny Pants called to say things like “Your daughter isn’t taking therapy seriously.” Or “She’s completely out of it; she must be institutionalized at once.” Especially since my father was paying the man to cure me of this supposed depression I was in. Sometimes it felt as if Dr. Lawrence was trying to make it look like I had completely lost my marbles or something.

  Somehow, he’d managed to convince my parents that I could snap under pressure or go completely psycho under severe stress. Though I had assured them that wasn’t the case at all, they tended to lean more toward the doctor’s direction. Because of this, I was kept on a tight leash. It didn’t occur to them that perhaps keeping a constant watch over me wasn’t helping much either.

  Trying to ease her obvious worry, I replied with, “I will as soon as I can. Maybe Trace will take me tomorrow during lunch.”

  “You still are taking your meds, right?” she asked as she turned away from the stove to look at me.

  Oh, no, don’t look at me. When I lied, and I would have to because I’d stopped taking my meds months ago, I could never do it when looking straight at her. She had the tendency to be able to read me like a book.

  “Yeah, I always take them.”

  She gave me a look that clearly said “I don’t believe you,” and I winced. How the hell does she do that?

  “Are you sure?” She arched her eyebrows, a clear giveaway that she didn’t believe me.

  “Of course, why would I lie?” I shrugged, hoping to look all innocent and carefree.

  “I have no choice but to believe you then,” she mumbled.

  “Thanks.” I couldn’t help the hint of sarcasm, which she decided to ignore.

  It was apparent she didn’t want to argue with me, so I let it drop and started to relax a little. I mean, she didn’t have any proof that I flushed the pills down the toilet each morning. Did she? Hopefully she was just being overly suspicious and I was off the hook for now.

  “Vicki, I still don’t see why Dad and you make me go to this therapist every week. I’m fine.” She was stirring whatever it was she had in the pot on the stove and I saw her tense. “I mean, I know how I was after the accident, but I’m fine now.”

  “We’re still concerned for you, Marjie—”

  “Please don’t call me that,” I interrupted her but she continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

  “And we want to make sure you’re feeling okay. Besides, Doctor Lawrence says you’re clinically depressed.”

  That last statement annoyed me. “I’m not depressed anymore! I’m moving on with my life. I go to college, to my therapy sessions, I help out with the chores around the house, and follow your rules. I’m a perfectly normal nineteen-year-old girl. What more can I do to convince you?” I ranted.

  “That’s all well and good, but Doctor Lawrence says you’re still depressed.” She looked at me then. “I’m sorry, Marjie—Marjorie—but it’s for the best. You gave us quite a scare that time. It’s taken you this long to emotionally recuperate…and the burden of Angela’s condition—”

  “Everyone says it wasn’t my fault. Everyone but Angela’s parents and you guys.” And that hurt, a lot. Sure, I’d messed up big time, but it wasn’t like I’d messed up since.

  “I’m not saying it was your fault, but you were driving drunk and—”

  My eyes widened as I stared at her. “An animal jumped right in the middle of the road. What was I supposed to do? Run it over?”

  “What’s all this yelling about?” My father’s voice boomed from the back door and we both stopped talking—more like stopped arguing—the second he came into the kitchen and looked at us.

  “Nothing,” Vicki and I answered in unison. She turned away from me and walked over to my father, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Sit down and eat, Ben. You have to go soon and I don’t want you to leave on an empty stomach.”

  My eyebrows shut up at her words. “You’re leaving today?”

  Dad thudded over to the sink, where he proceeded to wash his hands and dry them before marching toward the dining table and taking a seat next to me. “Sure am. I have no other choice,” he said with a slight wrinkle of his nose.

  Well, that would make it easier for me to go to Kenny’s party.

  “Hey Dad, is this right?” Nanette waved the notebook in front of my dad and he grabbed it, eyeing it from top to bottom before responding.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Marjie checked it for me. I just wanted to be sure it was right.” She looked at me and broke into a fit of giggles, her sapphire blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “Why wouldn’t it be right? I know math, you little brat, I’m in college.” She squealed when I made a dash for her, and disappeared into the living room, laughing and panting as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

  “Wash up and come down for dinner!” Vicki yelled after Nanette.

  “So, do you have any plans for tonight, Marjorie?”

  My head snapped up so fast I could have sworn I heard something unhinge at the back of my neck. Did he know something? Did he suspect I had something to ask him? Was I, like, see-through or something?

  Anxious energy thrummed through me then. “Um, yes, I kinda do.”

  He nodded as if he’d known all along. “What do these plans of yours involve?”

  Ah, crap. I wasn’t a very good liar, and making up an excuse would have proven to my father that I was no better at lying than at keeping secrets. Of course, the fact that my father worked with Kenny’s father didn’t help my case at all. He probably already knew about the party and was asking to see if I’d lie to him about it.

  “Kenny Marshall is having a party at his house to celebrate his twenty-first birthday,” I blurted, hoping to get it over with before I chickened out. After that, however, I couldn’t look at him directly so I focused on the placemats on the dining table. “I want to go.”

  “I see, and will there be any alcohol at this party?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know.” This time I did look at him. “But I’m not planning on drinking, and I can’t drive for now, so…”

  “Marjie—”

  My father brought up his hand to silence Vicki’s protest.
“Marjorie, I’m willing to try and trust you again. You’re an adult now, after all. This isn’t easy for me after what you’ve put this family through. I trusted you many times before and you practically got yourself killed, along with your friends. But you’ve been really good this year and I want to believe you’ll keep it up. Soon you’ll be able to get your license back, and hopefully you might even get a car. I want to think you won’t do anything to jeopardize all of this. Can I trust you again?”

  “Yes! You can. I promise I’ll never fail you again.” My happiness nearly caused me to start jumping around the room like a small child. Fortunately, I recalled that I’m no longer a kid and stopped short of embarrassing myself. I was trying to prove I was a young adult, after all.

  A smile played at his lips. “All right then. Go to the party and have fun. Just don’t come home too late. Tomorrow you have classes.”

  “Really?” When he nodded, I jumped out of my seat and hugged him. He immediately returned the gesture. “Thanks, Dad.” Oh God, this was an improvement.

  Since the accident, he trusted nothing in my hands, not even a spoon. But for whatever reason, he’d just changed his mind. Deep down inside, I had the feeling he was testing me but I didn’t care. It was up to me to prove that I could be trusted again.

  Releasing him, I sat back on the chair and grinned.

  Before turning to begin serving dinner, Vicki smiled at me and I knew that she was happy with my father’s decision.

  ***

  After dinner, Dad said his goodbyes and left for his trip. The girls and I stood on the front porch staring at the car’s taillights until they were out of sight. Once he was gone, I ran to my room to shower and dress before Tracy arrived to pick me up.

  With time quickly ticking by, I hurried to pick out an outfit that best suited my needs. Though I felt a little bold, I decided to go with clothes that, although they left everything to the imagination, they made me feel and look more like a young woman and less like a girl. Deciding it best to leave my long, sandy-colored hair loose, I applied just the right amount of makeup to enhance my look. After adding the right accessories to match my outfit, I stared at my image in the mirror and smiled, satisfied that I looked like my old self again. After grabbing my cell phone and tucking it in my jeans pocket, I trudged downstairs to wait for Tracy.