Secrets & Surrender: Part One

by L. G. Castillo

I threw my head back, laughing. “Really, Cassie, come to the party. You know you wanna go.”

  “I do. But I really should spend time with Mom, even if it is for only two weeks.”

  Shaking my head, I pressed my foot on the gas. The engine wheezed as it tried to come to life.

  “I have a feeling that in two weeks, our lives will be way different. We’re going to totally rock our senior year.”

  THREE: Mandi

  The moment I walked into The Dixie, country music slapped my face.

  A popular country song blasted through a pair of speakers from the back of the popular restaurant, popular because it was the only place to eat in Koppe. The nearest city, if you could call it a city, was College Station. Why my parents thought moving from LA to Koppe was good thing, I’ll never know.

  I was slightly impressed that someone had put in a lot of effort to turn the place into what almost looked like a dance club with flashing lights and people dancing—except for the sea of cowboy hats. Then I saw the two-stepping. I shuddered and walked to the bar, wishing that eighteen was the legal drinking age instead of twenty-one. If I was going hang out here for a while, I was going need a drink before the night was over.

  I weaved my way around a crowd of giggling girls dressed in jeans and matching denim jackets. They were exactly alike with their blond hair weaved into French braids and curled bangs, which were obviously layered with several cans of hairspray. Those bangs were so stiff not even a tornado could move them. I must’ve missed the blue jeans memo because they stared at me like I was from another planet.

  I glanced down at my hot pink mini skirt. It was normal, certainly not out of the ordinary. My oversized black blouse hung off my small frame, revealing a bare shoulder. I wasn’t showing that much skin, and my girls were totally covered. I may have gone a little overboard with the matching black lace gloves and lace stockings.

  Shrugging off their stares, I grabbed a bottle of soda from the bar counter and scanned the room for Tricia.

  Five minutes. I’ll stay here for five more minutes, wish Tricia a happy birthday, give her the present, and then I’m outta here.

  Another country song blared out of the speakers. I rolled my eyes as a wave of denim rushed onto the dance floor.

  Ugh, gross me out the front door! I didn’t think I could last another five seconds. I was about to leave when Cody Wilde emerged from the middle of the dance floor. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Hot damn! Cassie was missing out. He looked better now than he did this morning. Despite being a California girl, I wasn’t into the blond-haired, blue-eyed Greek god thing Cody had going on. But hell, I wasn’t blind. Even I could appreciate a bodacious bod when I saw one.

  “Hey, Mandi,” Cody drawled, his deep voice making me shiver.

  “Looking good there, Wilde.” I grinned, taking in the snug t-shirt that molded to his muscular body.

  “Uh, thanks. You like nice too,” he said shyly as his eyes scanned the room. Normally, I’d be totally offended to have a hot guy pretend to talk with me when he was actually looking for someone else. But I knew he was looking for Cassie. I bit my tongue, holding back a squeal. My brain was spinning with ideas on how to get those two hooked up when school started. This was going to be so much fun.

  “Cassie went back to Houston.”

  Blue eyes met mine, and his face fell. There was something about him that made me want to give him a big hug and tell him everything was going to be okay. Sort of like what I’d do with Miguelito when he was upset.

  “Mandi, Cody! You came.” Tricia bounced over to us, which was very unlike her. Tricia was normally shy and had a few close friends, so it was a surprise that she’d have a party with so many people.

  “Of course I did. Wouldn’t miss it. Happy Birthday.” I handed her a tiny box. “It’s from me and Cassie.”

  “She’s not here?” Tricia’s green eyes grew sad as she pushed back her thick glasses.

  “That’s what I was just telling Cody. She wanted to come, but she had to go back to Houston. She’ll be back. She’s moving in with me this year,” I emphasized, giving Cody a knowing look.

  “That’s wonderful! I really do miss her,” she said.

  You aren’t the only one. I glanced at Cody. His face was beaming.

  “Oh, that reminds me. Cassie wants to get a job when she’s back in town. Do you know if your uncle has any openings at the Piggly Wiggly?”

  Tricia’s uncle, old man Fletcher, was the manager at Koppe’s only grocery store. He was a snippy man that always seemed to have something up his ass. The only soft spot he had was for Tricia.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he does. He can always use the help. For some reason, his cashiers always seem to leave a few days after they’re hired,” she said, her brow furrowing.

  I choked on my soda. Gee, I wonder why?

  “I’m sure Cassie will stay longer than that. Hey, do me a favor, though. Don’t let her know I asked. You know how she is.” Cassie was such a giving person, but she hated it when others helped her out.

  “Sure, no problem. You know, my uncle had a crush on Cassie’s mom when they were kids. I’m sure he’ll be happy to give her a job. If she asks, I tell her that my uncle wanted to do her mom a favor. It’ll be our secret.” She winked. As Tricia and I continued our conversation on how to sweet talk her uncle into giving Cassie a job, Cody’s face shifted, and he became restless.

  Then I heard a familiar high-pitched twang that sounded like someone was scraping fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Cody Wilde, you know better than to leave me hangin’ in the middle of the dance floor.”

  Cringing, I watched as Lynette Baker laid polished red fingers on Cody’s chest as if she owned him.

  That girl was something else. She’d never given him the time of day before. Everyone in town talked about how much her cousin, Seth Baker, hated Cody. And whenever Seth bullied Cody, she’d never say anything to stop him. There were times I remembered when she’d even laughed at him. Watching her brush up against Cody now was so infuriating. Why didn’t he just tell her off? Oh, right. We’re talking about Cody here. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  “You was busy talkin’ with your friend, Carmen,” he said flatly.

  “I was takin’ a break. I can’t help it if every guy in here wants to dance with me. I was waitin’ for you to ask.” I tried not to gag when she brushed her boobs against his arm. Even Tricia rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t you want to dance with me?” Lynette pouted. Her face looked like a blowfish. I swear I didn’t get these guys who kept panting around her like she was the hottest thing in Daisy Dukes. Doesn’t that girl wear anything else?

  Cody’s sapphire eyes flicked to mine with a frantic look of desperation.

  “So, Lynette, your family must be excited that Dillon’s starting quarterback again this year.” Tricia’s eyes widened and Cody’s lips twitched as the last words left my mouth.

  Lynette’s hand fell to her side as she turned to me, her cold green eyes glaring. “Why are you even here?”

  “Excuse me? Tricia invited me.”

  “I mean, here, in Koppe.” She turned to me, leaned in, and dropped her voice to where only I could hear. “We only put up with your kind because you’re cheap labor. I know about your family and don’t think I won’t tell.” She poked my chest before she spun around and walked away.

  What the hell! Part of me wanted to yank her back by her bleach blond hair and knock the shit out of her. The sane part of me, which was holding on by a thread, was telling me to ignore Lynette’s crazy ass and not ruin Tricia’s party. At least she was laying off Cody—for now. Then there was the tiniest part of me that was a little afraid that she might actually know about my family’s secret. The only people who knew about it were Cassie and her father. Lynette couldn’t possibly know, could she?

  Nah, she was all talk. If she did know, her uncle, Sheriff Baker, would’ve shown up at our house for sure.

  “You okay, Mandi?” Cody p
laced a hand on my shoulder.

  “Yeah. I just didn’t expect Lynette to be here.”

  “I’m sorry, Mandi,” Tricia said. “My uncle made me invite the Bakers. I guess Seth and his brothers were too upset to come because of what happened to Dillon last week.”

  “What happened?”

  “He ain’t startin’ quarterback this season.” Cody smiled, his dimple flashing. “He got pissed and quit.”

  “Shut up!” Man, oh man, I wished I’d been there when Dillon got the news about that one. Dillon was just as bad as his brother, Seth. They were used to getting their way just because their father was the sheriff.

  “Really, he quit,” Tricia said. “But the sheriff made him stay on. My uncle and the sheriff think the new guy won’t last through one game.” She curled her finger, gesturing us to lean in close. She whispered, “He’s from New York.”

  I laughed. That was a funny thing about Texans. They thought if you weren’t born here, there was no way you could play football.

  “Dominic and his family are really nice, though,” she continued. “My uncle and I had dinner at their ranch last week. You should see their house. It’s huge.”

  “Dominic?” I almost felt sorry for the kid. A name like that in Koppe was just asking for trouble. At least it was better than Manuela. I shuddered. I loved my father, and I get that being first born I was named after him, but, really, what were my parents thinking?

  “Dominic Marcelli. He goes by Nic. And he has a sister, Bianca. I saw them around here somewhere.”

  “Ain’t that them over there?” Cody pointed to the opposite corner of the dining room.

  “Oh, good. They did come. I wanted to talk with Bianca about the cheerleader tryouts. She was asking about it. I’ll talk to y’all later.”

  Tricia disappeared into the crowd. I stood on my toes, straining my neck, trying to catch a glimpse of who would now be considered my favorite person at Koppe High. Anyone who knocked Baker off his high horse was a friend of mine. The Bakers thought they owned Koppe and everyone in it just because their father was the sheriff. Unfortunately, it was sort of true. It was hard to argue with the law or Sheriff Baker’s interpretation of it. When Cassie’s father was alive, he had brought some type of balance. But ever since he’d died, things in Koppe had gotten worse. I tried my best to lay low and not make any waves.

  “Hey, Cody. Mandi.” Buster Mills stepped up to us, a bottle of root beer in his hand. “Like the hair.”

  Buster was not your typical guy. Really, how many guys would notice the masterpiece that was my hair? I had worked two hours to get the maximum amount of curl and puff without making it look like a frizzed out cotton ball on my head.

  Buster, like Cody, wasn’t much of a talker. It must’ve been a Texas dude thing or something. Despite that, we’d become good friends over our mutual love of food.

  Buster was huge. He towered over me and had arms as big as tree trunks. I often wondered why he didn’t play football. He totally seemed like the type, and, in Texas, it was taboo not to even think about playing. For some reason, he preferred to read his poetry books and be left alone. If he weren’t so big, he would’ve gotten picked on just as much as Cody. But even the Baker boys stayed away from Buster.

  “Your mom still making those corn tacos?”

  My brow furrowed, confused. “Corn tacos?”

  “Yeah, the corn leaf tacos.”

  “Oh.” I laughed. “You mean tamales. You bet. We’re still trading this year, right?”

  His chubby cheeks dimpled when he smiled. “Pink party cake coming at you the first week of classes. Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t.” He looked down, rubbing the tip of his black cowboy boots on the floor. His face grew pink as I waited for him to say something. I looked to Cody, puzzled, wondering what was going on. He shrugged.

  “I was, uh, wondering if you’d like to dance,” Buster finally said.

  “Oh,” I blinked. “Uh, yeah sure. I don’t know how to two-step though.”

  His brown eyes sparkled as he placed his bottle on the counter behind us and held out a meaty hand. “Don’t worry ’bout that. I’ve got you covered.”

  I glanced at Cody. I didn’t want to leave him hanging.

  As if reading my mind, he said, “I told Uncle Mike I’d bring him back the truck before midnight. He’s heading out for another job on an oil rig later tonight.”

  As I danced with Buster, I couldn’t help but be impressed. Buster wasn’t kidding. He had some smooth moves on him. He was big, yet so graceful. Best of all, he didn’t seem to mind that my heels kept stomping on his toes. He twirled me around, making me laugh. Who knew that dancing to country music could be so much fun.

  It hadn’t even been a minute after I started dancing with Buster before Lynette was by Cody’s side. She whispered something in his ear, rubbing her body up against his arm again. He shook his head. It was times like this when I so wished I could afford a camera. Hell, I’d even settle for the disposable kind because the expression on Lynette’s face was priceless. It was classic mortification. She probably wasn’t used to getting the brush off. Apparently not, because she chased after Cody, saving face by latching her claw onto his arm and walking outside with him.

  “Crazy ass girl can’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?” Buster asked.

  “Nothing, just singing along with the song.” What the hell were they playing now?

  I was about to ask Buster the name of the song, when I froze at the sight of a tall dark haired guy standing behind him. He was like no one I’d ever seen before in my life. He was drop dead gorgeous. Unlike the flannel and t-shirts most of the guys were wearing, he had on a sport jacket over a loose fitting, pale gray shirt. Very Miami Vice. Dark wavy hair fell over his forehead and hung halfway over his eyes. Curly, dark lashes framed teasing hazel eyes.

  Those hypnotic eyes held onto mine for a moment, and my stomach went into a free fall. You’d think I’d never seen a cute guy before. But this was different. There was something more to this guy that I couldn’t put my finger on. He stood there looking at me with an aura of confidence. I could feel myself being drawn to him. In that moment, I forgot who I was and what I was doing. And I didn’t like it, not at all.

  I moved my foot forward, wanting to shift us away from him so I could pretend that I hadn’t noticed him. Maybe he’d get the hint and go away. My heel landed hard on the top of Buster’s foot.

  “Ouch! That one hurt,” Buster said.

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to—”

  “Excuse me.” When Mr. Miami Vice’s perfectly shaped lips began to move, I knew I was sunk. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him as he spoke to Buster with his eyes still holding mine.

  “I was hoping to dance with the most beautiful girl in Koppe, but you happen to be dancing with her. Mind if I cut in?”

  FOUR: Nic

  “Are you sure this is the place?”

  I pulled the beamer up to the front of the strangest looking building I’d ever seen. We appeared to be out in the middle of nowhere. It looked like a movie set for The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I studied the hand drawn map Mr. Fletcher had given me. Turning it upside down and then right side up again. How did I get myself into this?

  I glanced over at my little sister, Bianca, who was staring into the sun visor mirror, putting on pink lipstick.

  Oh, right. Daddy’s girl got pretty much everything she wanted and she wanted to party.

  If I’d known that dinner with Mr. Fletcher was going to turn into an invitation to what appeared to be the strangest place to hold a birthday party, I wouldn’t have bothered coming home on time. Football practice was wearing me out as it was. And it wasn’t because of all the hits I was taking either. It was hard to lead a team when all they gave you was the cold shoulder. Then there was Dillon’s brother, Seth, who waited on the sidelines at every practice. It was unnerving. Shit, it wasn’t my fault that Dillon couldn�
��t throw worth a flip. And if it weren’t for my father ragging on me to be on the team, I wouldn’t have even bothered. “You need to uphold the Marcelli name. The Marcelli legend needs to be kept alive,” he’d say to me on almost a daily basis. I finally gave in just to get him off my back. Being the only son in a high achieving family was a lot of pressure I didn’t want. Every time the old man looked at me, I knew it was with disappointment. He expected better. I guess he was embarrassed I wasn’t a trophy son he could show off to his friends.

  “Bianca?”

  “What? Oh my God. Don’t tell me we’re lost. Don’t make me go into that shed over there and ask for directions.” She eyed the building warily.

  “No. I think this is the place.” I jumped out of the car, walking over to a dust-covered sign.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She slammed the car door shut.

  I wiped the dust off the sign, revealing the words. “Dixie Bar & Grille: Home of the Best Fried Pickles in Texas.”

  “Nope, this is the place.” I wiped my hands on my slacks.

  “Fried pickles? Eww. I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go.”

  “No way. You begged Father to make me bring you here. So now we’re here. We’re going in.”

  I opened the door, and a cowbell rang as we walked in.

  “Why does everyone have big hair?” Bianca yelled over the blaring country music.

  There were several girls in a corner. They giggled as Bianca and I walked to the bar, where a person was serving sodas.

  I rolled my eyes. Bianca asked the strangest questions. It’s not like I knew anything about Texas fashion. “I think it’s for the same reason almost every guy here is wearing a cowboy hat.”

  Bianca and I were the only ones not wearing blue jeans, and everyone seemed to notice, not that all the staring bothered me. But being the new kid in town was hard enough without sticking out like a sore thumb. I should’ve been used to it by now. Even in New York, we stood out because of our family name. In New York, the Marcellis were known in social circles for their political ambition as well as some of the family’s shady past in bad business dealings. Some of those dealing walked a fine line between legal and not so legal. Somehow, my father managed to separate himself from the negative publicity of the Marcelli name and become the president of a major university. Though, it was controversial on how he’d gotten the position, especially since he’d never been a faculty member or worked his way up the ranks, like most university administrators. That had pissed off a lot of people at Texas University. But the Marcelli name carried a lot of weight in Texas, something to do with our family’s close ties with heads of oil companies and some politicians. Needless to say, a lot of strings were pulled.