The Secrets Duet

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The Secrets Duet Page 1

by Brownell, Rachael




  A Secret Life

  Rachael Brownell

  1.

  Katrina

  Bangles. Eight on each wrist. They may look like fake gold and silver, because they are, but I don’t care. I like the way the colors contrast. I like the sound they make when I move my wrist or my arm or my body in any way. I like the feel of them on my wrist. If I don’t look at them then I can pretend they are real.

  I stop focusing on my bracelets and take a long look in the mirror. My hair is perfect. I have my long, blond waves braided over my left shoulder. You can see the streak of pink I put in it last night weaving through the braid. It looks fabulous.

  My makeup is a bit much, but it’s who I am now. The thick, dark black eyeliner is in complete contrast to the light pink and green shadow I put on. The hint of green is helping to make my eyes stand out behind my recently purchased fuchsia rimmed glasses.

  My tattered skinny jeans and off the shoulder, black sweater complete my look. My bra strap is showing, something I would have never let happen in my previous life, but I have a large enough chest that I have to wear a bra no matter what. I reach into my closet and almost pull out my black heels and then remember I don’t wear heels anymore. I grab my black, knee-high boots instead and slip them on.

  It’s a look I never thought I would ever want or be able to pull off. I look just a little bit punk. Hopefully, my look is giving off the vibe that I’m trying to emanate: Leave me the Fuck alone! I don’t want to make friends and I don’t want to attract attention. I’ve changed as much about myself as I was willing to change to try and find a way to not stand out.

  My mother seems to think that I will stand out no matter what. She said my “California blonde” hair is too beautiful to go unnoticed. I put a streak of pink in it. She said my beautiful green eyes were going to drive the boys nuts. I went to the dollar store and bought a pair of glasses to hide behind. She said my natural glow of happiness would make people gravitate towards me. I told her that I left my happy persona in California with everything else.

  None of this made her happy. I know she only wants what’s best for me. I know she only wants for me to be happy. I’m not actually trying to be a pain in her ass, but I can’t seem to get past the reality of it all. I can’t get past why were actually here.

  “Are you ready?” My mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts and echoes through the room, literally.

  There’s nothing on my walls. There’s nothing that makes this specific room mine. If my clothes weren’t in the closet, on the floor, and covering the bed from my whirlwind of getting dressed this morning then you would never be able to tell whose room this was. I needed to remedy that. I needed to personalize this space, make it my own, since I planned on spending all of my time in here.

  “Yeah. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond with a sigh before taking one last look in the mirror and turning to face my mother.

  The shock on her face is apparent. She was unaware of my recent changes to my hair. She hadn’t seen the glasses or the new choice in makeup I had purchased while she was out job hunting yesterday. I know she wants to say something, but I can see her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from saying it. I have never rebelled against my parents before and I’m really not trying to now. I just want to be left alone until I can get out of this place and move on with my life.

  She turns and leaves my room. I know that I am supposed to follow her. How else am I going to get to school? I don’t have a car anymore. I am certainly not going to ride the bus. Shit! I can’t think like that anymore. I can’t be that stuck-up, better than everyone else, person anymore. I have to remember we are now an average, middle-class family.

  I find the travel mug of coffee my mom poured for me and I load it up with sugar and cream. I know she’s already put some in there based on the color, but I need a little extra sweetness today. I’m starting to feel a little bitchy.That’s not necessarily a bad thing since I would prefer people to stay the hell away from me, but I also don’t want to be known as a bitch on my first day. Maybe tomorrow.

  I grab my messenger bag and my purse and head out the front door. My mom’s waiting in the car, impatiently. I can see her drumming her fingers on the steering wheel of the piece of crap that she now drives. I feel bad for her instantly. It’s hard to look at her behind the wheel of the 1995 Honda Civic with the sagging front bumper. Her last car cost more than the house we are currently living in, not that our house is anything special.

  I jump in, buckle up, and turn the radio on. I scan through station after station hoping to find something that blends with the mood that I’m in. Country. No. Classical. No. Pop. No. More pop. No. More country. No!

  I turn the radio off with no luck just as we pull up to the front of the school. I know I should be embarrassed. Not only is my mommy dropping me off for my first day of school but she’s kissing me on the cheek. I don’t really care. People are staring, probably at the piece of crap car, as I get out and make a beeline for the double doors. I try to give off my best “leave me the fuck alone” vibe, but I can’t tell if it’s working.

  I make my way to the office and sit and wait to speak with the guidance counselor. I need to get my schedule. She calls me in just as the bell for first-period rings.

  “Good morning,” she says, looking down at my file, “Katrina.”

  Great! She had no idea who I was and I just saw her three days ago when my mom and I came in to register me. At least I don’t have to worry about her bothering me.

  “Hi,” I state it plainly and with no emotion. I’m trying to keep everything bottled up so I don’t fly off the handle.

  “Well, we put together a tentative schedule for you,” she says, handing me a piece of paper. I take a minute to look it over before handing it back to her. “Is that going to work for you?” She sounds confused.

  “No. I’ve already taken pre-calculus at my other school and I am fluent in Spanish, Latin and French so I don’t need a foreign language. I am not interested in taking P.E. as an elective so that needs to be changed. And, no offense, you have me in a freshman level English class.”

  Wow! That may have been a bit over the top. I didn’t mean to come off sounding like such a… bitch. Damn. Was I going to be like this all the time? I have no reason to sound entitled to anything anymore. I have to remember we are not that family. We are supposed to be “average.”

  “Oh.” You can hear how taken back she is. I did that. Oops. “Well, is your first-period class going to work for you?”

  I take a glance at the schedule again and see I have some history class first period. I nod to let her know that it will be fine.

  “Okay. Go and head down there and then come back after that class and I will have a new schedule for you. I’ll try to see where I can squeeze you in. You are going to need an elective since you don’t want to take a foreign language. Do you have a preference?”

  “No.” Again with the short answers. I really need to take a bitch pill. Does Midol only work if you’re on your period?

  “Alright. Well, go ahead then and I will see you after first-period.”

  I was being dismissed. I snagged the schedule off her desk and took a look at the room number I needed before I dropped it back down. Room 215. I’m sure I will be able to find it on my own. At least, I hope so. The last thing I want to do is come back in here and have to talk to her again.

  I leave the office and take a chance by heading to the right. I figure if I head towards the middle of the school I will be able to find the room I’m looking for. I see a sign up ahead telling me to head up the stairs for the 200 hall. I take the steps two at a time but slow down once I realize I am rushing. I have no reason to rush. There is no one I want to see, now
here I want to be, that requires me to rush.

  I pull the door at the top of the stairs open and fall backward on my ass. I hear myself grunt as I hit the floor and then I hear another grunt as someone lands directly on top of me. The air is knocked from my lungs and my head lunges backward. I know I should try and stop it from hitting the floor, but I really don’t care at this point. My day, my life, can’t get any worse.

  I feel an arm brush across my breasts and am about to scream bloody murder when I realize my head is now softly cushioned from the blow that I was expecting to come. My eyes are shut tight, and when I get a slight whiff of whoever is on top of me, I squeeze them tighter.

  I start to take in the body resting gently on top of mine. It’s definitely all male. Hard muscles are resting on my stomach and his bulging arm is still across my chest. His hand is cradling my head and even as I open my eyes to see who this amazingly gentle person is I have to remind myself I am trying to blend in. It’s really not an option.

  Gorgeous blue eyes are staring right at me and a smirk that would have knocked me on my ass if I weren’t already there. I do my best to hide my smile as he lifts us both up easily.

  “Sorry about that. Are you alright?” Damn. His voice is even amazing.

  “Fine.” It came out a cross between breathless and bitchy. A solid improvement from the way I was talking to the guidance counselor but not entirely nice.

  He gives me the quick once-over starting at my feet and working his way up to make eye contact with me. I’ve been looked at like this before, but there’s something different about it as well that causes me to blush. Damn my body for betraying me.

  “Lost?” The way he asks sounds seductive. It doesn’t come out sounding like a question at all.

  “No. I just haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.” My body betrays me again and my voice quivers slightly. Damn it. Why am I playing this game with him? I don’t want to play games. I want to blend.

  “Well, if you need help…” He lets his voice trail off waiting to see if I will ask. I won’t.

  I turn on my heels and walk through the door, grabbing my bag and purse which were holding it open from the fall. I take a sharp left and start looking at the numbers on the doors. They are getting smaller and I know after a few seconds that I turned the wrong way. I don’t want to turn around because I know he’s watching me. I can feel his eyes on me.

  I have no choice but to head back in the opposite direction so I might as well get it over with. I glance over my shoulder before turning and see that I was right. He’s standing in the doorway to the stairwell, watching my every move. Damn. He’s really freaking hot.

  The way he leans against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest… yummy. I see every muscle in his upper body stretched tightly. His shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, the way it clings to his muscles. His jeans are hanging just low enough on his hips that I wish he would stretch his arms above his head so I could see the tight muscles I felt when he was on top of me.

  His brown hair is short but messy. It’s probably the look he was going for. He is dressed nicely. He probably comes from money like the rest of the town, but he’s not trying to flaunt it.

  I realize I’ve stopped in the middle of the hallway and am staring at him, ogling him, demeaning him by drooling over his body. I have to pull myself back together. This is not how I imagined my first day going.

  “What room?” His sexy-as-hell voice pulls me out of my head and back into the reality of the situation.

  “215,” I say before I realize what I’m doing. This boy has knocked me on my ass, literally and figuratively. I’ve never felt this out of control before. I don’t like it.

  He points to a room across the hall, a few doors down from where he’s standing. This means I have to walk past him to get there. I knew that before I turned around, yet now the idea of it scares me a little bit. Who the hell is this guy and why am I acting so unlike myself around him? Oh yeah, this is who I used to be.

  I nod once and break eye contact with him. I don’t look at him as I pass even though I can feel his eyes on me. I pause outside the door to collect myself before opening it, knowing this is the beginning of everything. This is my life now. This is who I am.

  I reach for the door handle when I feel him standing behind me. My entire body is alive instantly and I can feel my hands start to shake as I pull away from the door handle. What is he doing? Why is he standing so close to me?

  “Are you at least going to tell me your name for helping you out?” He’s practically purring in my ear. At least that’s how I imagined it, because when I turn around I realize he’s still ten feet away. He felt so much closer.

  “Co… um, Katrina.” Shit. I have to get it together. I’m stuttering and almost completely fucked up.

  “Katrina?” The way he says my name sends a wave of guilt through my body. Did he notice my hesitance? It sounded like he was asking me. “Kat. I like it.”

  He smiles at me as he says it and I have to look down at my feet. He’s given me a nickname which means I have already let our interaction go beyond the boundaries I was intending to set with everyone. I do not want to make friends. I do not want to be noticed. I want to disappear into the sea of people and live below the radar.

  I hear a door close and look up to see that he’s gone. I’m instantly sad and relieved at the same time. I reach for the door handle again and this time I find myself opening the door. I know I’m not ready for this. I’m less prepared than I was ten minutes ago, but I know I need to move forward. It’s not like I can skip my senior year of high school.

  Cam

  I let the door to the stairwell close behind me, but I can’t seem to walk away yet. I can’t stop watching her through the window. She turns around just as the door closes and stares at it, almost like she was willing it to open again. She looks sad when she realizes I’m gone. Her expression changes and she looks like she’s trying to give herself a pep talk before going into the classroom.

  She’s different. Intriguing. I definitely want to get to know this girl. She’s also hot. The pink stripe in her hair completely contradicts the way she braided it this morning. Her sweater and jeans cost ten times less than the pair of boots she was wearing. Let’s not forget her accessories.

  Her bracelets and glasses were fake. Why was she trying to hide her beautiful green eyes? Not that she’s going to be able to, glasses or not. They are one of her best features, aside from certain body parts which I was up close and personal with a few minutes ago. But my favorite thing about her so far, aside from her lips that I couldn’t stop staring at, is her attitude.

  When I asked her if she was lost… damn. If her voice hadn’t given her away, her body would have. Her smart ass remark made me want to smile but the vibrations in her voice, the way her body shivered… I was lost in her in that very moment.

  This girl, Kat, is hiding something. You can see it in the way she’s trying to be someone else, someone she’s not. I won’t let her hide from me. She’s going to be a challenge and she’ll probably fight me most of the way, but I will have this girl. Sooner rather than later.

  I stalk off to the guidance counselor’s office to see why she put me in a class I’ve already taken. It happens to me every year. I round the corner into the office and I’m instantly hit with a wave of déjà vu. The scent, it’s hers. I smell Kat.

  I sit down in the chair and take a deep breath. It’s an unfamiliar scent. I’ve never smelled anything like it before. It smells like a mix of the ocean and a field of flowers. I take another deep breath and close my eyes.

  I see her standing down the hall with her back to me. I’m staring at her legs, then her ass. I’m working my way up her body, appreciating every curve. She’s so incredibly beautiful that if I had not run smack into her today, I would have noticed her the second she walked into the room. The vibe she’s trying to give off is fierce. She’s trying to be cold. Not really cold but more… snarky? Her body be
trayed her at every turn, though. I could see how she was reacting to me. I could feel it. My body was reacting the same way. It’s almost as if it was being drawn to hers.

  “Cameron.” I open my eyes and her image floats away. “You can come on in now,” Miss Reed says.

  Time to get this over with. I move inside her office and take a seat. I smell Kat again. She must have been in here too. Damn. This girl is everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

  “What can I do for you this morning?”

  I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I’ve already taken my first period Bio class. I was hoping you could switch me out of that class and into something else… say, room 215?”

  She gives me a questioning look before turning to her computer and typing in a few things. “You’re right. You don’t need that Bio class. I would place you in history with Mr. Cobb this period but his class is full. Anything else you want instead?”

  Damn. I was hoping to get in that class. Maybe she’ll be in one of my other classes. “Um, whatever is fine I guess?”

  She’s silent as she taps the keys on her keyboard. I take in my surroundings. Her smell has vanished, but I can see her name on a folder on Miss Reed’s desk. Katrina Smith. Such an ordinary name for someone who is obviously going to stand out, whether she wants to or not. I try to get a glance at what else is in the open file when Miss Reed closes it and stands, handing me a piece of paper in the process.

  “New schedule,” she says, the irritation in her voice apparent. She must have caught me looking at the file.

  “Thanks.” I turn and leave her office before looking at the schedule she’s given me. That bitch put me in a class on the other side of campus, as far from room 215 as you can possibly get.

  I make my way across campus, but all I can think about is Kat. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t hear the bell ringing, signaling the end of first period. I run straight into Betsy as she exits her class and almost knock her on her ass. Damn. How is this happening? I’m not normally this out of it.

 

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