No One Needs to Know

by Amanda Grace

  “I don’t know, but you’re sure handling it better than me.”

  “You can still be perfect, and be … ” My voice trails off. “This, too,” I say, motioning between us. “Because I think you’re perfect.”

  The ragged, strangled breath she takes catches me off guard. Flawless, composed Olivia is barely holding it together.

  “I’ve lost so much over the last couple years. The house I grew up in. My parents. Ava. And now you want me to go home and tell my brother I’m taking you away. Liam never cares about girls, and he cares about you. And if I take that from him, he’s going to hate me. I’m going to lose him like I’ve lost everything else.”

  “I never had any of those things to begin with,” I say, smiling sadly through my tears.

  “Sorry,” she whispers.

  I reach out to touch Olivia’s arm, but then she’s backing away, her eyes still trained on me. She stares for a long, lingering moment, as if to memorize what I look like, out here beside the blown glass artwork.

  And then she spins on her heel and runs off, leaving me standing on that bridge, the freeway traffic rushing by below.

  Olivia

  The next day, I’m sitting on the little window seat in my room, staring out at the water and wondering how it is I screwed things up so badly.

  I ran away from Zoey the second she pushed. She wanted to end things with Liam, and I knew it was the right thing to do, but I freaked.

  I exhale, and my breath fogs the glass. Then I pick up my phone and call her. Again.

  It rings twice, then goes to voicemail, so I know she’s screening my calls. If her phone was off, it wouldn’t have rung at all.

  She wasn’t even at school today. I only went to school to see her, and she wasn’t there.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Zoey. Leave a message.”

  The beep comes, and for a long second I don’t speak. The lump in my throat makes it seem impossible. I swallow it down. “Hey, Zoey,” I say. “Look, I don’t know what I’m doing any more, okay?”

  My lip trembles and I realize how much I can’t afford to lose her. How much I need her.

  How much I care about her. I couldn’t sleep last night, I just kept replaying the same thing over and over—that moment she said, I choose you, followed by the way her face crumpled when I left her there.

  “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s terrifying. But I can’t lose you. Give me another chance, please. Just don’t give up on me yet. I’ll talk to him, okay? Just tell me you’ll still be there once I do.”

  I end the call and drop my phone into my lap, still staring out at the driveway. I wipe away the one tear that trails down my cheek.

  A knock comes then and I jump, bumping my forehead against the glass before I turn to see my brother standing in the open doorway.

  As our eyes lock, I know.

  He knows.

  He overheard the call.

  His eyes search mine, boring into me. He steps into my room, then walks closer and sits at the edge of the bed, all without looking away. It’s like he expects the answers to be written in my eyes.

  “Just say it,” I say.

  He rubs his hair with one hand, then drops his hand back to his side. “Are you and Zoey more than friends?”

  “We were,” I say, sniffling. “And I know that makes me a really shitty sister because you liked her first.”

  “Have you dated other girls?” he asks.

  I finally break our eye contact and look at the lines left in the carpet from the vacuum cleaner. I dig my toes into the deep pile. “No.”

  “Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”

  I glance up again.

  “I don’t care, that you’re … you know.”

  I can’t speak.

  “But, I mean, it would have been cool if it wasn’t a girl I was dating … ”

  I can’t help it. I laugh, and then it makes me want to cry.

  “Are you in love with her?” Liam asks.

  “Are you?” I counter.

  He breathes deeply, leaning back on his hands on my bed. “I like her. I really do. But if she was pissed at me, I don’t think I’d be moping in my room like … ” He swirls his finger around my room. “Like this.”

  I nod.

  “Has she dated girls before?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “So you two just kind of … ’

  “Fell into it.”

  “Huh,” he says, as if struggling to wrap his head around it.

  “I know, it’s weird.”

  He shrugs. “Nah. Just … unexpected.”

  I nod. “Yes. Definitely unexpected.”

  “Has it been going on the whole time I was dating her?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. Just since the lake.”

  He nods slowly, staring at where my toes disappear into the carpeting. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I lean back, feeling the cool pane of glass on my back. “Because I thought you’d be pissed. I’ve been sneaking around with her, and she was your girlfriend first. And then you come home and tell me how amazing she is, and how am I supposed to tell you?”

  Liam leans back too, resting his palms against my bed. “You use words, Olivia. Like the ones you’re spouting right now.”

  I stand up and walk past him to my dresser. My hands slide down the strand of pearls draped around the corner of my mirror. “I’m not like you, Liam.”

  “I don’t know about that. Sounds like we’re both into girls.”

  I laugh again, not because the joke is all that funny, but because the relief at the way he’s taking all of this is almost more than I can handle.

  “I thought you’d be mad.”

  “Bewildered. Surprised. I’m … ” He trails off, and I glance over my shoulder. He puts one hand next to his temple and makes an explosion motion, like “mind blown” is the word he’s looking for.

  I turn around and lean against the dresser. “What happened to us, Liam? We used to be so … ”

  And then, just as I say “close,” he says “similar.”

  I furrow my brow. “We were never that similar.”

  “Sure we were. We played on the same T-ball team as kids, and we both sucked at it. We both were obsessed with Pound Puppies and we used to pretend all of our stuffed dogs came from the pound. We both wanted to be in the church play but neither of us had the guts to try out. Every Christmas, every birthday, we’d get the same gifts. A red bike for you, a blue one for me. A red sled for you, a blue one for me. A red stuffed bear for you, a blue one for me.”

  He seems to be staring at some swirl in carpet, smiling softly to himself. “The thing is, we grew up, Liv. I found the person I wanted to become, and I can’t be someone else just to stay close to you. ”

  “I’ve never asked you to be someone else.”

  “No? You didn’t force me to go to those art museums in Paris last summer?”

  “It’s because Mom wouldn’t let us run around a foreign town alone.”

  “You don’t try to make me go see subtitled movies every Friday, even though I’d rather see a Bruce Willis movie?”

  “It’s tradition.”

  “You don’t make fun of my skateboarding?”

  My jaw drops. “I’m just joking around.”

  “You want me to be who I used to be, Liv.”

  “I don’t want you to be someone else! I just want you to be my best friend!”

  Liam sighs. “You’re never going to lose me. You just have to let our relationship evolve. You have to evolve. And if that means being … whatever you are with Zoey, then be that person.

  But stop holding yourself back. You’re never going to be twelve years old again, when everything was perfect.”

  My throat feels raw, and just breat
hing hurts.

  “Look,” he says, standing up. “I love you. But I promised Rusty I’d meet him at Foss. So I’m going to get going and leave you to … mope or eat ice cream or whatever girls do.”

  I smile, hoping my eyes aren’t glittering with tears. I’m too overwhelmed right now to handle him staying and telling me more hard truths.

  “Thanks, Liam.”

  And then he leaves me.

  Zoey

  I haven’t moved in hours.

  I feel like I’m weighed down, that my limbs are filled with sand, and it takes too much effort to get out of bed. I skipped school, even, and I haven’t done that in years. The idea of seeing Olivia and knowing that she won’t just freaking talk to her brother so we can be together is more than I want to handle.

  On my dresser, my cell chirps again. Another message. But I don’t need to talk to her, not if it’s just going to end with the same result: Olivia too scared to be together, too scared to hurt Liam.

  “Someone in a very tall Jeep just pulled into the driveway,” Carolyn says from the doorway of our room.

  I sit up and glance out the window.

  “It’s Liam,” I say, my stomach twisting. What’s he doing here? We don’t have any plans. And the mere idea of having to fake it again, pretend to be his girlfriend, is more than I can deal with right now.

  Carolyn follows me out into the living room, weaving her way between the junk all over the floor. Mom suggested we donate as much old stuff as possible so we don’t have to pack it up when we move to a new apartment, and Carolyn has taken to the project with gusto.

  I think she’s more excited than I am about getting out of Hilltop. Mom said the new apartment isn’t anything fancy, but it’s clean and bright and safe. And best of all, it’s in a different school district for Carolyn. Since Annie Wright is a private school, I won’t have to transfer.

  I put up a hand to stop my sister. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

  “To say hi to Liam!”

  “Um, no. I need to talk to him alone.”

  She pouts but goes to the couch and plops down. I wait until she puts her feet up on the coffee table before I go out the front door.

  Liam’s just about to step up onto the front porch.

  “Uh, hey, what’s up?” I ask, shutting the front door behind me.

  He holds something out to me, and when I put my hand out, palm-up, he drops a yellow Post-it note onto it.

  “What’s this?”

  “The access code to our building.”

  I raise a brow.

  “I’m going to be gone for the next two hours. I suggest you go talk to Olivia.”

  I just kind of stand there, like some freaking statue, my mind moving about as slow as molasses.

  “I know what you guys are,” he says.

  “Oh,” I say dumbly. My heartbeat reaches a crescendo, the beat so loud I’m sure he can hear it.

  “You could have told me,” he says when I stay silent.

  I nod, because of course he’s right and of course he’s entirely, completely wrong.

  “So, she actually told you? Everything?” I finally say.

  “No. I overheard her leaving you a message.”

  My stomach sinks as the disappointment sets in. I’d actually thought maybe she’d done the right thing and told him herself. “Oh.”

  “Why are you mad at her?”

  “Because she’s more worried about being the perfect sister than she is about being with me. She couldn’t just talk to you. And I was tired of pretending. You’re amazing, but you’re not … you’re not Olivia.”

  It’s surreal to be standing in front of Liam and admitting this aloud.

  “It’s who Olivia is,” he says. “You can’t expect her to change overnight.”

  “I know,” I say. “Maybe I’m expecting too much.”

  He nods.

  “Why are you taking this so well?” I ask. But I’m not entirely surprised. Liam has always been pretty unflappable. It’s weird, really, that he’s related to Olivia.

  “I don’t know. I like you. And I love my sister. If you two being together is what makes you happiest, and is what makes her happiest, then so be it. I’ll just have to hope there are two girls in the world as cool as you are.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, like I said, I have things to do. Use the code. Go see her.”

  And then, before I can say anything else, he spins on his heel and strides across the patchy brown lawn to his Jeep.

  “Hey, Liam?” I call after him.

  He pauses, turning back to me.

  “Thank you. For … everything. You’re a good guy.”

  He nods, giving me a smile before he climbs into his Jeep, and drives away.

  I stand on the front porch and watch until he disappears around the corner. Then I duck my head back into the living room, only to find the couch empty. Carolyn is standing at the window peeking through an opening in the drapes.

  “I’m going to be gone for like a half hour, okay?” I say.

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Don’t bug Mom, all right? I think she’s reading in the bathtub. She deserves a break. If you leave her alone, I’ll bring you back some of those stupid pickle-flavored chips you like.” I grab my purse off the side table near the door.

  She brightens. “Deal.”

  “Work on your homework or something,” I call out as I shut the door.

  Olivia

  “I don’t care if you’re still pissed at me. I’m not going to let you skip the dance,” Ava says, propping her hand on her hip. “It’s not allowed. So let’s just forget about our little argument and go to the mall and pick out some dresses.”

  “It’s not a little argument,” I say. “I’m only talking to you because you needed your Dolce jacket back. Now you have it. You can go home.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re not talking to me anymore.”

  “Because I have nothing left to say to you, Ava!”

  She pouts. “We’ve been best friends since the third grade. You can’t just break up with me. Friends don’t break up.”

  “You don’t even see that you’re wrong. So, yeah, I can break up with you.”

  “Why do you even care about Zoey? She’s not worth your time. If you want to adopt something, go to the shelter and pick out a dog.”

  The words sting, crawling under my skin and sticking there. I’d once thought something similar about Zoey, that night she came home with Liam. Jesus, had I always been as judgmental as Ava?

  “Fuck you, Ava,” I say, jutting a thumb over my shoulder at the door. “And get out of my house.”

  Her jaw drops. “What the hell is even wrong with you? Do you really like her that much?”

  She’s moving closer, step after step after step, as if she thinks I’ll edge away.

  Instead, I draw myself up. “Yes,” I grind out. “I really do. And until you come to terms with that, and until you apologize to her and mean it, we have nothing to say.”

  Ava goes rigid, glaring into my eyes. The condo falls silent.

  And then there’s slow clapping, somewhere behind me.

  I whirl around. It’s Zoey, the slightest of smiles playing on her lips, her eyes sparkling.

  I can see it, the rage and frustration boiling beneath Ava’s skin, and I wonder, really, how I ever saw her as my best friend. It was there all along, our differences. She’s never cared about the future, about who we would become. She never wanted to work together on homework and projects when I asked—not when she could find a guy to hang out with or a store to shop in.

  Whatever we had, it was entirely surface level.

  “Goodbye, Ava,” I say, and while the words start strong, they end up as a whisper.

  She shakes her head as
if she pities me, and then spins on her heel and strides out the door.

  She slams it so hard it rattles the pictures on the wall, but then it’s silence.

  I gaze at Zoey. “How much did you hear?” I ask. My bravado fails me as I glance downward.

  “Enough.”

  “Enough to what?”

  “Believe in you. Maybe I pushed too hard with Liam, but what you just did … was brave. Thank you.”

  “Really?” I look up at her.

  “I talked to Liam too,” she says. “I know you didn’t mean to tell him, but at least he knows about us now. And I guess that’s good enough.”

  “You really talked to him?”

  “Yeah. And I’m not with him anymore.”

  I twist a strand of hair around my finger. “So … if I tell you I made a mistake, that I don’t want to lose you … ”

  “I would ask if it’s too late to buy tickets to the Fall Fling,” Zoey says.

  I look up, relief barreling through me. “You’re too forgiving,” I say. “Lucky for me.”

  “It’s not like I have it all figured out, either,” she says, reaching over and untangling my finger from my hair, then clasping my hand in hers. “I just want to know you’re in. For the long haul. Because this isn’t going to be easy.”

  I purse my lips, nodding with absolute sincerity. “Yes. I’m in.”

  Zoey grins from ear to ear. “Good. Because if we’re going to go to this dance, I’m going to need a dress. And I’m really bad at picking out dresses.”

  Zoey

  – Ten Months Later –

  I raise a hand, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon sun, squinting against the glare. My shoulders are hot, and I know I should slather on another layer of sunscreen, but I can’t tear my eyes from the boat ripping toward me. It’s pulling someone, a small set of roostertails spraying into the air.

  It can’t be. There’s no way she picked it up that fast.

  I squint, trying to get a clear view of the gangly figure on the skies. Finally, the boat turns slightly and the skier swings out from behind it, the tow-rope going taut, the skier sliding out from behind the wake and popping up over the little wave.