Keeping You a Secret

by Julie Anne Peters

  A knife pierced my heart.

  “Oh, Holland.” Cece rushed to the bed and crawled across the mattress. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that about your mom. I know she loves you.”

  “Itʼs okay.” I fended her off with a hand. “I’m all right." Which was a lie and she knew it.

  Cece's shoulders slumped and she twisted around, her back to me. “I would've advised you to do something different with your mom.” She picked at the prom dress. “Maybe write her a letter. Give her time to think about it. The way your mom treated me that day, I knew she’d have a problem.”

  "What do you mean? How did she treat you?”

  “Didn’t you notice?” Cece swiveled her head. “As soon as she saw my shirt she freaked. She wouldn't even let me touch Hannah, like I was a child molester or something.”

  "Serious?"

  Cece nodded.

  I hadn’t noticed. What was with my mom? Was she a flaming homophobe and I didn’t even know it? “Just finish, Cece. What happened at Wash Central?”

  Cece moved from the dress to fondling my ankle chain. "Joanie was like this different person after she came out to her parents. Wild and crazy and happy all the time. Because it’ll do that, holding it in. It’ll made you paranoid and ashamed. Not of being gay, of being such a coward. All you want to do is be honest, be the person you really are.”

  I know! I almost shouted. I know.

  "I took it slow at first, at Wash Central. Introduced Joanie to a couple of my friends, just so she’d know what it was like being around other gay people. Because it’s fantastic." She smiled over her shoulder at me. “You can talk about things that’re going on in your head and in your life. You can discuss girlfriends and laugh and joke around about sex and stuff. Everybody really liked Joanie, and she liked them and it was all just hunky-dory." Cece scrambled off the bed and charged across the room. "Do we have any coffee?"

  “No, we’re out," I told her. “I’m sorry. I meant to stop by the store and get some after school." My mind wasn't exactly on groceries, I didn't add.

  "Shit." She slammed the cabinet door over the sink.

  “There's tea –”

  "I hate tea. You know that.”

  “God."

  She whirled around. Her head lolled back and she murmured "Sorry. I'm sorry. It’s just…this next part is hard. I never told anybody, except Mom. I didn’t have to, since all my friends watched it happen." Her voice quavered.

  “Come here.” I opened my arms to her.

  "No. Let me get through this." She took a deep breath. "So, Joanie’s like `This is great. Why didn’t I come out before? Lets tell the whole world I’m gay.’”

  That sounded familiar. The irony wasn’t lost on me – a lot of similarities between Joanie and me.

  “I told the lesbigay club that we were going to be throwing another coming-out party. Which is what we do when a new person joins the community. So we did, and it was awesome. Joanie felt so included and accepted. And I finally had a girlfriend I could eat lunch with and bring to meetings and hold hands with in the hall. Joanie even joined Unity with me so we could be together all the time. Everybody loved Joanie and she loved everybody.” Cece’s eyes went black. “Especially Jenna.”

  Oh, my God, no. "Don’t tell me.”

  “I am telling you,” she said flatly. "She loved Jenna.”

  The pain in Cece's voice, in her face. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  Tears welled in Cece's eyes. I slid off the bed and went to her. “I found Joanie," she whimpered.

  I hugged Cece.

  “I loved her. She was mine.” Tears gushed from Cece’s eyes. I’d never seen her cry. “Joanie and Jenna. How perfect," she mocked.

  She must've been holding this in for months, the tears just kept coming and coming. She sobbed into my hair, gut-wrenching heaves. I hated that she was crying over Joanie. I hated more how much Joanie had hurt her.

  “How can you stand having her in Unity?" I asked. “Seeing her all the time?”

  Cece swiped her nose on her shirt sleeve. “I started Unity. It’s my group. I’m not going to let her steal everything from me. Plus," she sniffled, “Joanie still wants to be friends. I can handle that.”

  Cece was strong, stronger than me. I’d kill Joanie.

  Cece went into the bathroom and came out with a length of toilet paper. She blew her nose and said, “Joanie got all active in the lesbigay club, too. They elected her president and she got all these people involved in causes, like the AIDS Walk and opening our club to straights, making us a GSA. She even got asked to be on the speakers’ bureau at the Center.”

  “God. Talk about feeling betrayed.”

  "No shit,” Cece said. “I couldn’t let you come out, Holland. Brandi was already asking about you. And my other friends, it they ever met you…” She paused and inhaled a ragged breath. "I couldn’t let the same thing happen. You were so much like her. I said I was keeping you a secret? Yeah, I was keeping you a secret from them.”

  "Oh, Ceese.”

  Her eyes pooled again. “You have to hate me," she said. "Coming out is such a personal decision. You're the only one who can make it. The only one who knows when the time is right. Look what I've done to you. I've ruined your life.”

  “No.”

  "Yes! Can’t you see, I’m the one who betrayed you. I should’ve let you come out. You should've told your friends. Your mom. It should’ve come from you. Not Seth. Not Faith. Not anyone else.”

  Okay, she was right about that. I guess I did feel a little betrayed, especially since Cece knew how self-destructive it was to stay in the closet. She wasn't entirely to blame, though. Iʼd agreed to the secret. I’d even used it as an excuse not to tell Mom. “I’m not sure it would've made a difference who told my mom,” I in formed Cece, smoothing her hair back from her wet cheeks.

  “It might have, though.” She swallowed hard. “And thatʼs whatʼs tearing me up inside. I made you homeless.” She started to cry again.

  I pressed her face between my hands. “Oh, honey. You didn't do that. My mother did. And you didn’t ruin my life." I wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I’m still here, right? I should’ve told you how I was feeling, what was going on. We could've gotten all this out in the open earlier and talked it through. I don’t hate you. I couldn't. In fact, I understand why you did it.”

  She blinked up at me. "You do?”

  I nodded. “I’d do anything to keep you, too.”

  She disintegrated in tears again.

  I was so relieved to finally learn the truth. Get all our feelings and fears exposed and deal with them. Cece didn’t seem to share the unburdening. Even after she stopped crying, the guilt in her eyes was torturous. “You say we’re alike, Ceese, but we’re not," I told her. “We’re different people, Joanie and me. I know I’m different. Why would I even look at anyone else when you’re all that I’ve been looking for?”

  "Oh, God, Holland.” She crushed me in an embrace so hard, she knocked the wind out of me. It made me laugh. Made her laugh, too.

  Then we couldn’t stop laughing. It was wonderful, fantastic. I’d never felt such joy, freedom, and certainty. About me. About her. About us.

  Trust. That’s what this was about. If you can’t trust the person you love, you don't have anything.

  Chapter 24

  Cece bought me a T-shirt. It said, NOBODY KNOWS I’M A LESBIAN.

  Yeah, I was coming out, but not even I had that much courage. Why not make an announcement over the PA? “Attention. We’ve just received official confirmation that Holland Jaeger is a dyke.” No. I wanted to do this my way. One person at a time. Those who needed, and deserved, to be told.

  I called Leah first. “I need to talk to you," I said. "If you’re still talking to me, that is.”

  She didn’t respond.

  I died inside. It was too late.

  "Letʼs meet at the clubhouse.”

  “The wha – oh, okay.” lf I could remember where it was. “When?�
�

  “I’m too busy this week,” she said.

  Ow. I deserved that.

  “What about Saturday?”

  “Okay.” Iʼd go crazy waiting until Saturday, but what could I do? I should be thankful she was willing to see me at all. “What time?"

  “I don’t know. Around four?”

  "A.M.?"

  "Yeah, right. Wear your pj’s and bring a flashlight.” She clucked her tongue. There was a smile in her voice, though.

  My heart sang. “l’ll be there.”

  “You promise this time?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “I promise. I'll be there.”

  We hung up. Saturday was forever away. I could’t put off Winslow for a whole week. I couldn’t bear living with the knowledge that I'd hurt his feelings, that he basically detested me. Not when I could fex it, make it right.

  Cece helped me compose a letter. I explained to Winslow how I just figured out I was gay and was trying to come to terms with it. That my saying no to him had nothing to do with him or who he was. That I really was flattered he’d asked me to the prom.

  I signed it, “Sincerely, Holland (the turkey) Jaeger."

  I was petrified to give him the letter. It didn’t help that Cece had warned me, "You never know how people will react.” I thought I knew Winslow, but do you ever really know a person?

  The fear was immobilising. Art period was almost over and still the letter lay under my sketchpad. Now or never. Pretending I had to sharpen my pencil, I strolled by Winslow's table up front and dropped the envelope on his pad, then skittered back to my seat.

  Cece turned and met my eyes. She pressed a fist to her heart. My heart was pounding in my ears. I watched Winslow open the envelope, pull out the letter, and unfold it. He read it, then refolded it. Stared straight ahead at the white board. He didn’t care. He hated me. Without warning, his chair toppled over, startling everyone. He gathered his stuff together and forged his way to the back of the room, attracting Mackelʼs attention with all the racket. Winslow slid into the seat beside me and said, “Yo.”

  It was the sweetest word I ever heard. "Yo yourself," I replied, my throat constricting. He did a really weird thing then. He looped his long arm around my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Sort of brotherly. My eyes strayed over to Cece, who’d covered her head on the table with her arms, smothering laughter.

  It was all I could do to contain my own hysteria.

  ***

  Paramount Park used to seem so dark and deep when we were kids. All I saw now were the weeds, the scraggly cottonwoods, the decaying litter caught in the chain-link fence. I'd completely forgotten about this place, our clubhouse.

  A brilliant sun cast geometric shadows through the branches as I crunched along the overgrown trail. Trees would be budding soon, I realized. I’d always loved spring. This year's rebirth would be extra special, since it was my rebirth, too. “Knock, knock." I stood underneath our cottonwood, squinting up into the tree house.

  A voice floated down, "What’s the secret password?”

  "Shit," I muttered.

  “Thatʼs not it."

  I grinned and shook my head.

  "You don't remember the secret password?”

  Grabbing a branch, I hoisted myself up and said, “Leah, its been a hundred years?” Another lifetime. I squeezed through the gap around the trunk, vaguely recalling there used to be a door hinged over it. “Is this floor going to hold us?" l stepped gingerly across the wobbly sheet of plywood to the far side, where Leah was sprawled against the wall of our clubhouse, reading from a spiral notebook.

  "Remember this?” she asked absently.

  I eased down beside her. The wood cracked and I grabbed hold of her arm to save myself – or take her with me. “What is it?" The plank held and I let her go.

  Leah slid the notebook between us.

  “Oh, my God. Is that our secret spy book?”

  She smiled. “Remember how to read the code we invented?”

  “Hell, no.” It was pure hieroglyphics.

  She pursed her lips at me and reclaimed the book. “Preston and Ty Mangela are stupid ugly idiots. Next time they egg us on the way home from school, we’re calling the cops.”

  I laughed.

  She continued reading, “Tiffani Enstrom is boy-crazy.”

  “Whoever she is." My mind wandered. Only three walls remained in our clubhouse, and two of them were in imminent danger of decay. Was it that long ago we’d discovered this place and loved it into a home? We’d strung Mom’s old flowered sheets across the windows and stapled them in place. We'd even squirreled away a stash of butterscotch candies for emergencies. Where were they? In a crevice we’d chiseled out of the tree trunk.

  That wasn’t all we'd chiseled. I scrambled to my feet. I had to duck under a cracked limb to reach our spot. My fingers traced the letters in the bark.

  “It’s still here," Leah said, appearing at my side, "for all eternity, just the way we planned.” She traced the carvings, too. “The history of our love lives. ‘L.T. + R.R.,’” she read. “Richie Romanowski. I wonder where he is now.”

  “Probably in jail since he was dealing dope in sixth graded.”

  She ignored me. “‘L.T. + DF. L.T. + MZ. L.T. + KZ…’”

  “You were hornier than Kirsten," I said.

  She slapped my arm. “I was searching. Still am." Her eyes fixed on the tree trunk. Then slowly turned on me.

  I swallowed hard. My mouth felt dry as dust. “Here’s mine." l felt along the indentations. ‘H.J. + …’ “Huh." I blinked at Leah. “Itʼs blank."

  “Imagine that.” Leah raised an eyebrow. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  My heart exploded in my chest. I wasn’t so sure about this anymore. I thought I knew Leah, but Cece cautioned me not to expect too much. Not to be too disappointed if Leah needed some time to accept the truth. I didn't think she would…

  I broke off a twig, then another. A knot of fear twisted my stomach.

  “Do you want me to say it, or do you have like a prepared speech you’ve been rehearsing?”

  I lowered my head and laughed to myself. Leah knew me too well. "I'm gay,” I said.

  She gasped and covered her mouth. But her eyes gave her away.

  “You are so dead," I told her.

  She grinned. Peeling off a strip of bark, she asked, “Is it Cece? Is she the one?”

  My face flared “Yeah, she’s the one.”

  Leah meandered back to where she’d left the spiral and sat again, I followed her. “Tell me what it's like," she said.

  I soared into space. These were the words I'd been longing to hear. I took a deep breath and opened myself wide. “I love her, Leah. I love her so much. l've never felt this way about anyone before. Cece and I are connected – physically, emotionally, spiritually. It's like she’s inside of me." I clenched a fist to my stomach. “She's a part of me. I can't explain it, She’s my soul mate.”

  “I hate her,” Leah said.

  “No." Anger gripped me. “You don’t even know her.”

  Leah shook her head. “I don't mean that. I’m insanely jealous. I can’t even imagine how it would feel for someone to love me that much.”

  “Oh, Leah…”

  “I’m happy for you, Holland,” she said. “But sad, too.”

  “Why?”

  Leah ran a thumbnail down the wire spring of the notebook. “Because it changes things between us.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I shifted to face her. “What are you talking about?"

  “You’re different now. You’ve been different. You haven’t called me in months. You have a new life. New friends.”

  “You'll always be my friend. Always.”

  “But not like before. I’ll never be one of you.”

  “One of who? God, you make it sound like a coven or something."

  “Plus, you have her now. You don't need me." Unexpectedly, Leah burst into tears.

  She was really bawling. This hu
rt her. Why? It didn’t seem fair when I was so happy. I folded her in my arms and held her. Storking her braid, I said, “You know, I used to have the worst crush on you."

  If my senses hadn’t been heightened, I might not have felt it. The tensing of her muscles, the slight pull away from me. I released her fast.

  My brain screamed, You shouldn’t have told her, you idiot! What were you thinking? I scooted back a few inches to put more distance between us.

  “So, um, are you bisexual?” Leah asked, digging a tissue out of her shorts pocket. “Because…well, Seth and all.” She blew her nose.

  “No. I’m not. I realize now that I only ever loved him as a friend.” By the look on Leah’s face, I’m not sure she understood. I'm not sure I did, completely. "Would you do me a favor, Leah? Would you give Seth a message?”

  "Sure,” she said.

  “Tell him Iʼm sorry we couldn’t talk about this, that I couldn’t tell him the truth. Tell him he deserves to find someone who can love him in a way I never could.”

  She nodded.

  "You think heʼll understand?”

  “No," she admitted. “Not yet, anyway. He’s pretty pissed. And…you know."

  My heart ached. I never meant to hurt him. Never meant to hurt anyone. “He’ll be leaving for college soon,” I thought aloud. “That should help.”

  Leah stood up fast and walked across the plank to the other side of the clubhouse. “Everything's changing. Everybody’s leaving.” Her tears threatened a rerun.

  I scrabbled up after her. “You’re leaving, too.”

  “I don’t know what I'm doing. I’m definitely not going to Western State with Kirsten. She told me what she said to you." Leah met my eyes. “I couldn’t believe it. Yes, I could. Kirstens always been so jealous of you.”