Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets

by Ames B Winterbourne

  “Dad! Oh, god, no. Never, ever mention that again. Ryder and I aren’t like that,” I say, and then remember we’re supposed to be a couple. “Yet.”

  “Oh, god, no, Lake. Never insinuate that. I might have to kill him.”

  “Sorry.” Another honk. “I have to go.”

  I rush out of the house without another word and hurry over to Ryder’s car.

  Last night, we spent the whole car ride not talking. My annoyance was stewing, and when the rage finally festered, he’d already dropped me off at home.

  I open the door and plop down onto the cushy seat. The first thing out of my mouth before he can say anything is, “Why didn’t you tell me about Mr. Crane and my mom?”

  “I told you from day one that he was dangerous,” Ryder says. His shirt has a bunch of planks of wood sitting around a table and some girl at the door. One of the boards says, Excuse me, we’re having a board meeting.

  It’s one of his stupider shirts. His hair is in his face, but not covering his eyes. He looks at the road, not even acknowledging my fury.

  “But how did you know?”

  He stays quiet.

  “Ryder!”

  “After seeing him watch you a few weeks ago, I hacked into the system at the station and did a background check on him.”

  “You what?”

  “I just took a peek,” he claims. “What can I say? I was worried about you. He skeeved me out, and I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He nods. “If you want, I can show you what I printed out about him. I have the papers in my bag.”

  “No,” I say. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  I don’t want to know anything else about Mr. Crane. My world is already being torn apart. How could my mother sleep with Mr. Crane? How could she be a prostitute? It doesn’t make sense. Mom was such a goody-goody. She was a homemaker, who tended to her children and husband as though it was her life’s duty. Her being an actual whore doesn’t make sense in the slightest.

  My phone buzzes, and it’s Aunt Dorothy. Suddenly panic consumes me. “Oh shit.”

  “What?” Ryder asks.

  “My aunt is calling. Do you think she might know?”

  “If she does, who cares? She’s a criminal. Just let it go to voicemail.”

  I click the side of my phone, sending her call to voicemail. He’s right. I don’t even want to talk to my aunt right now. Especially since I don’t know what to do about all of this.

  “So.” Ryder’s voice breaks through my train of thought. “Felicia was sleeping with both Mr. Crane and Miss Kemper. I wonder if it was just for the money, or maybe she was into women and men. I mean, she didn’t talk her way out of being with a woman to Jaxon. To be completely honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. But her doing it with Miss Kemper is kind of gross.”

  “Well, I would be shocked if she was interested in women,” I say.

  “You know, it makes sense.”

  “Why?”

  “She could have had a love-hate feeling for you. Maybe she was in love with you.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.”

  Felicia being in love with me is a sick joke. If you loved someone, I doubt you’d treat them the way she treated me for almost four years. She may have had utter self-loathing, but Felicia embodied a narcissist. She was controlling, cruel, and made sure she was number one at everything, except when it came to schoolwork.

  “You shouldn’t be so dismissive,” he says.

  “I’m not here to judge Felicia for her sexuality. I just can’t fathom her ever being in love with me. It would make no sense at all. She hated my guts.”

  “You never know.” I know he’s teasing me, but it feels weird. I don’t believe it. Maybe Felicia was just doing her job, and that’s why she enjoyed Miss Kemper’s company.

  It would make more sense if she was in love with Jessica, which would also make zero sense. Jessica’s one STD away from making the Guinness World Records, and anyone who has a brain would know better than to fall in love with that.

  Before Ryder can continue to make fun of me, I change the subject.

  “I can’t believe Jaxon would kill her.” Sure, maybe I’m a tad biased because I’m enamored with Jaxon, but still, I can’t imagine him doing it.

  “You really have a thing for him, don’t you.” It’s not a question.

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” By now, Ryder’s picked up on a lot of stuff about me. I’m not a girl who’s down with the whole, “he bullies you because he likes you,” sort of thing. Ryder doesn’t necessarily tell me I’m fat or ugly. He does help make me an outcast, though now I don’t necessarily think it’s on purpose. But the fact that he constantly tells me he likes me and then hooks up with girl after girl makes me think it’s all just some nasty joke. I’m target practice for his hookups.

  “I’m no idiot, Lake. Anyone with eyes can see you and half the girls at school drool over him. Though, I don’t know why.” He sounds miffed, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

  “Jaxon is the epitome of the perfect man. He’s smart, charming, a complete gentleman, and he’s kind. He’d never bully anyone or make them feel like a total loner loser.”

  “You barely know the guy. Not to mention, he only started talking to you this week,” he counters. “How can you know all of that? It’s his bod, isn’t it? I never thought you’d be so superficial.”

  “I’m not superficial. Sure, he has a nice body, but Jaxon is amazing in more ways than one.”

  “And he’s possibly a murderer.” Ryder gives me the side-eye. “He could have killed Felicia. Did you think of that? That freaky teacher made it sound like he was a jealous boyfriend. But I don’t believe that for a second. I mean, he didn’t seem to give two fucks that she was dead. All he did was insult her.”

  “So?” I understand how it would seem like he didn’t care about Felicia at all, but I still can’t believe he’d kill her. It wouldn’t make sense, especially since he has absolutely nothing to do with my mom.

  “Felicia called him the Blackmailed Boyfriend for a reason, Lake. Obviously, he didn’t love her. He was only with her because she was blackmailing him. For her, it was just for popularity, but for him? He could have been in love with someone else, and Felicia threatened to ruin it. I bet when he found out her secret, he tried to confront her and blackmail her back. Think about it; there might have been a struggle. It’s possible he could have killed her.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Jaxon is the most perfect guy I’ve ever met. He’s a straight-A student and a high school athletic legend. He even got into Yale—not for any of the sports he plays, but for pre-law. On career day, I overheard him say he wants to be a judge because he strives for justice. He does volunteer work at the local hospital, too. Not to mention, he’s beloved by everyone at school, and he’s been on the homecoming court every year since he began high school. It doesn’t make sense for someone so full of goodness to be a killer. But I can’t deny he might have been the light that snuffed out Felicia’s darkness.

  Ryder doesn’t bother to reply. His features are strained, like he wants to say something but knows the outcome will be a dumpster fire.

  “What is it?”

  He bites his lip and swerves into the school parking lot. I gasp in shock at the screeching sound of the tires.

  “Dude! So not cool!”

  He doesn’t say anything, and instead parks the car much closer to the school than I’d ever cared for.

  Before I know it, he’s out of the car and slamming the door, making me flinch. I don’t know what his deal is, and it’s really starting to tick me off. I get out of the car and slam the door just as hard as he does, making the vehicle shudder. He ignores it as he leans against the car door, gazing up at the sky.

  �
��It’s going to rain,” Ryder says.

  I glance upward. The clouds are a nasty purple, with orange hues trying to shine through. I’m not a fan of the sunlight, hence my skin being as pasty as it is, but I love the rain, especially when it tries to shield the world from the harsh sun. I have to admit, the sky is beautiful. Over the last few days, I didn’t think anything in the world would ever be beautiful again. It’s like when Felicia died, she took all the beauty the world had with her.

  “I like the rain,” I say.

  At the exact same moment, we both turn to face each other. Our eyes meet, and I notice a whole different kind of cloud.

  “Me, too,” he says. “We have more in common than I originally thought.”

  “The fact that we both like the rain doesn’t necessarily mean we have more in common.”

  His smile exposes his dimples, making him look carefree. I want to hate Ryder, but something in me can’t. I’ve been trying for so long not to look at him as anything other than a bully. I almost forgot how cute and sweet he is, and why I had a crush on him in the first place, blue braces aside. I can’t trust him completely, but a small part of me wants to. I don’t know if I have a death wish or what, but I want to open up to him.

  At times like this, I wish I could ask my mother for advice. My thoughts are muddled, and flashes of happy days in the rain with Mom fill my mind.

  “This one rainy day when I was little,” I start, “my mom wouldn’t let me play outside. I threw a tantrum because I wanted to splash around in the rain. She said I’d get sick. I went to my room and cried until my dad came home. He argued with her until he was allowed to take me outside in the rain. She made a big fuss that if I got sick, she was still going to send me to school the next day. Dad and I had a blast jumping in puddles and dancing in the rain. Mom ignored both of us when we came back inside. The next day, I got sick.” I chuckle at the memory. “But I got ready for school anyway, knowing my mom didn’t sissy around. She yelled at me for that. She insisted I get back into bed and made me chicken soup.”

  “She sounds like she was a good mom,” he says softly. There’s something in his voice that’s wistful. “She really loved you.”

  I close my eyes, picturing her smile and the way she brushed my hair back, then sang a lullaby to send me to sleep. I open my eyes, and my lip quivers. “How could she cheat on my dad? How could she do that to him, to my brother and me? It makes no sense.” The hurt I feel knowing my mom betrayed her family is too much. I may be crying, but I really want to scream at her and tell her off. No, what I really want is for her to be here. I wish she could tell me it isn’t true. It’s all a lie, and Felicia is doing this to torment me. But Mom is gone. She’s been gone for years, and I know it’s hopeless. I’ll never get to speak to her again. I didn’t truly believe Felicia knew about my mother’s death, but now … my whole body shivers at the very thought that Felicia may have died because of it.

  Ryder pulls me to him, and I go willingly. He holds me and whispers, “Sometimes the people we love the most let us down without even realizing it. It sucks, and sometimes you can’t do anything about it, but it doesn’t mean that person doesn’t love you.”

  Ryder sounds like he’s speaking from experience, and I wonder if that’s how he feels about his dad, too.

  “Come on.” He uses his thumbs to gently wipe my tears away. His touch calms me. “We have two murders to solve.”

  He takes a step back. I don’t want him to go. I realize, just by him stepping away, how alone I’d feel without him. But then Ryder holds his hand out to me, and I don’t hesitate to take it. His palm is big and comforting. My skin prickles as my heart does little flips in my chest. It makes me feel both safe and antsy at the same time.

  “Lacrosse practice is over with. He’s probably getting dressed and stuff.”

  “There aren’t many cars in the parking lot,” I observe, highly aware of my hand in his.

  “His car is here.” He points to the only car with a dented back bumper. I wince at the sight. Dad was none too pleased with the whole “bumper kiss” thing. When I explained it that way, he was even more unsettled.

  We make our way to the inside of the school. It it’s completely empty on a Sunday morning, making it almost eerie. It definitely feels like we’re in a horror movie. I can just imagine turning a corner and finding a dead body. Then, the halls would be filled with horrific screams. Instead, there’s nothing out of the ordinary, other than the silence. We make our way toward the locker room, and suddenly a bunch of lacrosse players emerge from the door, laughing and playfully shoving each other. Ryder pushes me up against a wall and leans down, shielding my face. I haven’t gotten this close to him before, to smell the spicy cinnamon cologne, but it makes me feel both dizzy and calm at the same time. His eyes are on mine, and I feel his breath on my face and the warmth of his body pressed against me. My breath catches in my throat.

  A few guys laugh, but no one seems to notice who I am. Instead, I hear, “Damn, that’s Frost for you,” and “Never thought at school on a weekend.” It makes that fuzzy feeling I have evaporate. Once I know the guys are out of range, I shove Ryder away from me. He stumbles back, but catches himself.

  “What was that about?” I snap.

  “I panicked. I didn’t want them to see us together.”

  Hurt overwhelms me. “Why not?”

  “I didn’t want to draw any more attention to us.”

  I don’t say anything. It’s reasonable, but still, I can’t help but wonder if Ryder is ashamed to be seen with me.

  “Was Jaxon with them?”

  Ryder shakes his head. “It looked like almost everyone on the team.”

  “Do you think we should do this now?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Plus, if we did it in front of some people, maybe he’d panic and feel cornered.”

  We’re so close to the doorway I can hear a shower spray running.

  “Maybe I should stay out here.” Just thinking about Jaxon’s naked body makes me want to shield my eyes before the image of the sheer perfection blinds me. Though, it’ll probably be worth it. I’m not religious, but I start to pray for a photographic memory to brand the image into my head forever.

  Ryder’s cheeks puff like a puffer fish as he tries not to laugh. “You’ve got some drool on your chin.”

  “Har-har.” I squint my eyes at him.

  “Though I don’t like that you’ll be gawking at him, you’re coming with me.”

  “You just want to make fun of me.”

  “It is an honor to tease you,” he declares.

  “You’re a turd-waffle.”

  We enter the room, and my nose is assaulted by the mix of various body sprays that attempt to cover B.O.

  “I thought when they showered it would make the room a smell a little better.”

  “Well, surprise! It never smells good here.”

  Suddenly, a pained grunt rings through the room. It sounds like it’s coming from the back. If it’s the same layout of the girls’ locker room, the showers are in the back.

  “Oh damn!” someone groans. I know who it is in an instant. Jaxon. He sounds like he’s in pain. I don’t waste another second. I run for him.

  “Lake!” Ryder whisper-yells after me.

  When we get to the shower in question, I know the image before me will truly be burned into my memory until the day I die. There, standing in a shower cubicle, is Jaxon Smith screwing his best friend, Brock Brady. I gasp in shock, and both boys stop what they’re doing. Their eyes dart over to me and Ryder.

  “Oh shit!” Brock shrieks as he pulls away from Jaxon. Ryder turns his head away, while I can’t stop staring. Both of the guys are butt naked. Their manliness, however, is lost on me by the realization that Jaxon Smith was screwing a gay—I mean a guy.

  “Holy crap.” My hands fly to my mouth.

 
“It’s not what it looks like!” Brock stammers as he covers his junk with his hands. The look on his face is a mix of horror and sheer embarrassment. But my attention is consumed with my thoughts. Brock is a big guy, definitely not a person I ever thought would be catching. He’s beefier than anyone on the team, including Jaxon.

  Jaxon, however, doesn’t look as guilt ridden. He turns away from us and continues his shower like it’s nothing. He’s definitely a boy who is comfortable with his body, and I don’t blame him. His dark skin glistens from the wetness. I’m not going to deny that I get a peek at everything his muscular body has to offer. The guy has an eight pack. Yum. At any other time, I’d be thanking Jesus for bringing this hot piece of man-meat into the world. He seems to have no shame, and I want to tell him he’s fierce, but this is too much, even for me.

  Brock gets out of the shower and grabs a towel, finally covering himself. Not that I don’t catch a peek as he removes his hands. I must look like a tomato, for sure. But Brock doesn’t even notice me. If looks could kill, Ryder would be dead, and I’d be called to the witness stand. “Tell anyone about this, and I’ll fucking end you, Frost!”

  Ryder doesn’t so much as flinch. He only waggles his eyebrows at Brock.

  “He’s not going to tell anyone.” Jaxon sounds bored as he continues to shower.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Brock repeats. “I’m not gay. This was an experiment.”

  Ryder snorts. “You looked like you were enjoying that quite a bit, Brady. A little too much for it to just be an experiment.”

  Brock bares his teeth like a tiger ready to pounce, but at that exact moment, his towel falls to the floor, and I get another eyeful. He quickly picks it up and turns his furious stare on me. “And you—”

  Jaxon sighs, and I turn to find him leaning under the shower spray, washing his hair. “Ryder and Lake aren’t going to tell a soul.”

  “And you would know this how?” Brock growls. From his tone, it feels like we’re about to witness a lover’s quarrel.

  Ryder isn’t having it. “Because I’ve known for a long time you both were gay. I’m just shocked you’d risk it all in the guys’ locker room at school, and right after the team left. Living on the edge, boys.”