Keeping You a Secret

by Julie Anne Peters

  “Because I don’t want you to have to go through the bullshit.”

  “But –"

  She held up a hand. "You don’t know what it’s like. The locker thing was just a minor incident. Okay, it probably qualified as a full-fledged hate crime, but it didn’t cost anything. Not like my slashed tires.”

  My jaw unhinged. “Somebody slashed your tires? Who? Is that what happened in the school parking lot?”

  "School. The mall. You name it. That kind of stuff you can fix. It’s the other things, the whispering behind your back, the laughing at you in your face, like you don’t even have feelings. Want to know how many times I get called ‘dyke’ every day? Gee, I don't know," she cocked her head, “I’ve lost count. It's the ones who give you the look, though…" She shook her head. “There’s so much hate in people. It scares me, okay? I’m really afraid of physical violence. That day at the juice machine? God, that totally freaked me. Not that I’m going to let the fear control me, or make me afraid to be who I am. I’m proud of being gay. But it took a long time for me to get there. I had to put up with a lot of shit. And I can’t stand the thought of you going through it, through any of it.” Her voice caught.

  I reached over and fondled a ring on her index finger. Silver, etched with a zigzag pattern. “I can handle it, Cece.”

  “WeII, I can’t," she snapped. “Look.” She flipped her hands over and took mine into them. “You only have a couple more months till you graduate, right? Then you’ll be away from everyone you know. Not that society's any better, but it’s easier to blow off complete strangers. Plus," she ran her thumbs down mine, "I don't think you understand all the consequences of your decision.”

  “It wasn’t a decision. I’m this way.”

  “Whatever. You haven’t come to terms with what it means to be a Lesbian.”

  A lesbian? Is that what I was? I hadn’t thought about a new self-identity. A label. All I knew was, I loved her.

  She probed my face, my eyes. "Theres a lot you have to work through, Holland. Trust me. This is going to hit you.”

  Hit me. I imagined being on the receiving end of all the sickos, felt the truth of her knowledge and experience seep in. Cece and I both took deep breaths and let them out. She withdrew her hands and, with her index finger, circled the rim of her cup. “I hate to even say this, but think of what your coming out now, in public, would do to Seth?”

  Seth. How insensitive could I be? People would be cruel. His family, friends, Coop. "You're right.” I nodded. “Youʼre right.” I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. He didn’t deserve that. My love for her had nothing to do with him.

  “Promise you won't tell anyone?” Cece said. “Not yet, anyway?”

  I met her eyes — her worried, panicked eyes. And understood completely her wanting to protect me. I never, ever wanted to see her hurt again. “I promise.”

  “Good.” She exhaled relief. Lifting her cup, she poised to drink and smiled at me. “Until then,” she said, “until it’s time, I’m keeping you a secret.”

  Chapter 18

  We tried to figure out between our killer schedules when we could be together. Cece helped her mom cater parties on the weekends and occasionally got a performance art gig. Southglenn wasn't going to the state swim meet — big surprise — so that obligation would drop off my schedule soon. During the week the only time Cece was free was after work, at eleven PM. I suggested we meet before school, too.

  “The pool opens at six and it’s deserted down there until six forty-five or seven,” I told her. "There's this faculty shape-up in the gym three times a week, but they don't usually get started until after seven.”

  Cece groaned.

  “Hey." I yanked down the bill of her baseball cap. “We all have to make sacrifices.”

  It was hard staying away from her at school. She must’ve still been seeking me out between classes because we passed in the hall three or four times a day. Whenever we did she’d make eye contact and, without changing her expression, press a closed fist to her heart. It sent a jolt of electricity through me every time.

  For the next two weeks I snuck out every night to meet her – our clandestine rendezvous at the Blue Onion. Afterwards, Cece called me on my cell phone to wish me goodnight and we’d fall asleep with the phone to our ears. It was exciting, like having a secrete lover. She was exciting. My life amped up in volume.

  One evening I floated in after work and Mom was at the stove grilling hamburgers. “Oh, yum.” l hugged her around the middle. “l am so hungry.”

  “Something came for you today," she said.

  “What?” I rested my head on hers.

  "lt's in the living Room.”

  I wandered out, giving Hannah a belly tickle in Neal’s lap. “Oh, my God.” My feet skidded to a stop. “Are these for me?”

  Mom stood behind me, wiping her hands on a dish towel."Your name’s on the card.”

  I’d never seen so many roses. There must’ve been two dozen, in a gorgeous crystal vase. Yellow roses, my favorite. My stomach dropped. Not Seth. Oh, no. He wouldn’t. On the rare occasion we crossed paths anymore, he barely acknowledged my existence.

  From the vase atop the TV, I removed the floral shop card from its envelope and read it to myself:

  For my sweetheart. Together Forever. I love you C.

  “Let me see." Mom extended her hand.

  I slapped the card to my chest. “It’s personal.”

  Mom smiled. “Things seem to be heating up between you two. I've noticed how happy you seem lately. Should I be pricing wedding gowns?”

  Neal went, “Uh-oh.”

  My face flared. A pang of sadness pierced my heart. There’d never be a wedding gown. There’d never be a wedding.

  As I lifted the vase, Mom whined, "Oh, couldn’t you leave them up here for all of us to enjoy?”

  "Maybe later.” I smiled at her, then Neal. "l sort of want to enjoy them myself first.”

  Mom squeezed my arm on the way past. “Holland, I do have one concern." She held onto me. “This staying out so late with him every night — you're still in school, you know.”

  Shit. She’d noticed. “I’m keeping up," I lied. For the first time ever, I’d flunked a test. And I had a ten-page history report due tomorrow that I hadn't even started. School seemed so trivial now. Everything did. “I’m not spending all my time with him. Sometimes I just go to Starbucks to get away from —" I didn’t finish, since Neal was all ears.

  Mom cast me a dour look. But she released me and I fled.

  Faith leapt off her bed when she saw me pass with the flowers. She seemed to be here all the time now. Of course, my sense of time and space was distorted. I existed on another plane, in another dimension. "Wow,” Faith said at my back. “She must love you a lot."

  My heart stopped. I set the vase on my dresser and rotated slowly in place. “What did you say?”

  Faith smirked. “I’m not stupid, you know. This partition isn’t exactly soundproof.”

  Every muscle in my body tensed. She’d been listening in on our conversations. Faith grinned, evilly, and retreated to her half of the crypt. This feeling of foreboding dropped over me like a shroud.

  ***

  Friday after school l slammed my locker, and yelped. Seth was standing there, arms crossed. “Hi,” I said, taking a step back. He exuded anger. I’d seen him earlier at the student council meeting, where he now sat as far away from me as possible. Kirsten had snagged me after the meeting to ask what was going on be tween us. I told her, “We broke up.”

  “What?” I thought her eyes would tall out of her head and roll down the hall. “Oh, my God, Holland. When?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  Kirsten frowned. “Did you tell Leah?”

  “No." Leah had called me, when? Last weekend? But I hadn’t gotten back to her. I was a little distracted.

  “What the hell happened?” Kirsten said. “Did he –”

  "Yeah," I didn’t let her finish.
“You know, I really don’t want to talk about it." I’d bolted, leaving her jaw dangling. Let her think he’d done it to me. Save his dignity, at least.

  “I want my stuff out of your Jeep," Seth growled, jolting me back to the moment.

  “Okay. Iʼm sorry, I forgot it was there.”

  He pivoted and headed for the exit. Cece had just arrived at her locker and either heard or felt the earth rumblings. We shared a grimace.

  I scurried after Seth. When he got to the Jeep, he stood stiffly, glaring off across the emptying parking lot. I unlocked the driver's side and grabbed his sleeping bag and Coleman stove, a hockey stick and puck. I handed them around to him. Without a word, he left. He’d only taken a couple of steps before turning back and asking, “What did we have, Holland? Tell me that. Were you just faking it?"

  Oh, God. I didn't want to have this confrontation. Not now, not ever. What could I tell him? Our relationship was a lie, Seth. I was lying to myself. But it wasn’t an act with you. Not entirely.

  What he was asking… the faking it part. Did he know the truth? Suspect it? My heart hammered. I opened my mouth to say… say what? There was nothing I could say.

  Before stalking off, he nailed me with a look that made my blood run cold.

  I sensed her behind me. “I think he knows," I said.

  “How could he?"

  I shook my head. "I don't —” The answer presented itself. “Faith.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about Faith," Cece said. "She wouldn't tell.”

  I just looked at Cece. She didn’t know Faith the way I did.

  ***

  Cece and I spent Saturday together. The whole glorious day. We went to IHOP for a late breakfast, then drove to the mountains and parked. An open space trail led into Arapaho National Forest, so we followed it, holding hands and talking, sharing our most intimate thoughts and dreams, sharing ourselves. We hardly noticed the snow begin to fall.

  When we got back to the Jeep, I cranked up the heater and we started to kiss. It ended the way it always did.

  “Cece,” I whispered hoarsely in her car as we huddled under a blanket in the back, clinging to each other and freezing to death, “l hate this. We need to find a place.”

  “l know,” she said, still breathing hard. “I’ve been working on it.”

  “Work faster." l told her.

  On Monday, a pink construction paper heart with a HER-SHEY’S KISS rubber-cemented in the middle was taped to my locker shelf. She’d been leaving KISSES for me to find ever since Valentines Day. In my coat pocket, in my dutiful.

  Over, with an arrow, was printed on the front of the heart. I flipped it.

  Tonight my love, she’d written. Meet me after work. WE HAVE A PLACE.

  My stomach did a triple flip. No way I was going to make it through the day.

  Leah and Kirsten intercepted me outside the media center right before lunch. I’d been holing up there, hoping to stay out of Sethʼs way. Stay out of everyone's way. “Weʼre kidnapping you,” Kirsten said, clenching one of my arms. Leah latched onto the other.

  "Where are we going?” I looked from Kirsten to Leah as they tugged me along the hall.

  “The Isle of Bulimia," Kirsten said. “Otherwise known as my house. We're ditching the rest of the day and making chocolate chip cookies. Then we’re going to eat all the dough and stick our fingers down our throats.”

  "No, we're not.” Leah clucked her tongue. “We’re going to give ourselves facials and faux fingernails. Maybe highlight our hair. We’ll do complete makeovers on each other.”

  My feet dug into the carpet at the end of hall and we ground to a halt. "I can’t. I’ve got an econ test today.”

  They both groaned.

  “I'm sorry,” I said, taking back my arms.

  “Then tonight," Kirsten said. "I know you’d never blow off work, Mz. Anal and Responsible, but we’ll pick you up afterwards."

  “No." I shook my head. "l have too much to do." There was a drawing I needed to finish tonight. It had to get done tonight.

  “See?" Kirsten turned to Leah, her hands on her hips. “I told you she dumped us as friends.”

  “I did not," I protested. Why would they think that? Because I'd been totally incommunicado for weeks? Duh.

  “Kirs told me about Seth," Leah said. "You didn’t even call me.”

  She sounded hurt. My heart dropped. I should’ve told her. Made up a story or something, I hated lying, though. That’s probably why I was so bad at it. And my self-improvement plan did not include becoming good at it.

  "Why did he break up with you?" she asked. “What happened, Holland?”

  What could I tell her? I became a lesbian? I always was, I just never acknowledged it? All I could say was… nothing.

  “She doesn’t want to talk to us.” Kirsten lowered her arms. "I told you. She doesn't need us as friends.”

  “That isn't true.” I did need them. Just not now.

  Leah took my hand. “I am so sorry, Holl. I know how it hurts.”

  Kirsten snapped her fingers. "I have an idea. Let’s form a club. The I'm-Giving-Up-Guys-Forever Club.”

  I laughed. That was funnier than they knew.

  “I like it,” Leah said. “Sign me up.”

  “You in?" Kirsten hitched her chin at me, then dug in her purse for a pen and her steno pad.

  “I'm in.” I smiled at them. Wished I could tell them. I wanted to talk about this so bad. Talk about Cece. About us.

  Leah said, “We need to get together, the three of us. Seriously, I’m having friendship withdrawal pains. Let’s plan a sleepover for Saturday night.”

  “Works for me," Kirsten said.

  The bell rang and doors began to open along the hallway. People spilled out from classrooms.

  “Say, seven o’clock?” Leah backed us to the wall. “Would you pick me up on the way, Holland?”

  “I canʼt,” I told her. “I canʼt come. I think I might be busy.”

  They both stared at me.

  What did I say? “I mean, I am. Busy.”

  There was a change in the air between us, a drop in temperatrue.

  “Come on, Leah.” Kirsten shoved the notebook back into her purse and grabbed Leah’s sweater sleeve. "We were right the first time.”

  As Kirsten maneuvered her through the crowd, Leah glanced back over her shoulder and found my eyes. Call me, she mimed, an invisible phone to her ear.

  I pretended I didn’t see.

  ***

  Cece was waiting, as usual, in the back doorway at Hott ‘N Tott. I drove up and idled, but she motioned me to come inside. Not our usual routine. I parked in the alley next to her Neon and locked the Jeep. Then remembered my duffel and retrieved it from the back.

  She embraced me under the security light. Reaching back, she opened the door and pulled me inside. “We have until four thirty,” she said. “That’s when the morning crew comes in to start frying. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.”

  She'd been busy. Near the proofing racks Cece had set up a small table with a collection of candles. A portable CD player was on and this dreamy, instrumental music drifted around the room. It smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla. Like her. Near the table Cece had zipped together two sleeping bags and added a pillow.

  I looked at her and smiled. She took my hand and led me down. "I have a present for you,” she said, kneeling on the sleeping bags.

  “Another one?” I knelt in front of her. “You already gave me the flowers. It’s my turn.”

  “Here.” She held out a rectangular object. My eyes had to adjust to the flickering candlelight. “What is it?” I turned it over. No label.

  “It’s a demo tape of Pus. Since you like them so much.”

  I laughed.

  "I love to make you laugh.” Her lip cricked. "Here’s the real present." She reached behind her under the pillow and pulled out a tiny box. It was wrapped in red foil with a mini silver bow at tacked.

  “Cece —"
>
  “Open it,” she demanded.

  As I removed the paper, she added, “I know you don't wear jewelry, but I thought…” She stopped and bit her lip. I lifted the top of the box to find a thin, gold chain. A charm hung from it. “It’s an ankle chain," Cece said, taking it from me. “This is the Venus symbol, two females linked together for all eternity.”

  I examined it up close. "It’s gorgeous.”

  “You don't have to wear it.”

  “Of course I’m going to wear it. Here, put it on me.”

  She motioned for me to give her my ankle, so I sat back and extended my legs. She removed my shoes and socks. Around the left ankle, she clasped the chain. I'd never take it off. Never. I pushed up to my knees. “I have a present for you too.”

  Her eyes lit up. I fumbled for my bag, opened it, and withdrew the page. "I had to do it from memory, since I don’t have a picture. It’s not exactly right." I handed it to her.

  Her mouth fell open. She blinked and said, “Is this me?”

  "No, it’s this strange girl who keeps showing up in my dreams." I widened my eyes at her.

  Her expression didn’t change as she examined the drawing. “Is this how you see me? I mean, I’m beautiful."

  I reached forward and held her face gently between my hands. “Yes, you are.”

  She flung her arms around me, clutching the portrait behind my back. “Oh, Holland. I love you so much," she said.

  “I love you too,” I told her. "With all my heart.”

  Chapter 19

  To look at me in the mirror, you think I was the same Holland Jadger I’d always been. But I wasn’t the same. I’d discovered this part of myself at the center of my being that made me feel real alive. More aware of where I stood in relationship to others. To Cece, of course, but also to the rest of the world. Aware of what the world thought of me, what they could do to me.

  Cece was right – it suddenly hit me how vulnerable I was. Because it mattered what people thought.

  At my carrel in the back of the media center, I watched through the window a car packed with people careen around the corner and speed off. Probably to McDonald's or Taco Bell. I closed my eyes and sighed. My self-imposed isolation was beginning to wear.