That Secret You Keep

by Brenda Benny

  It suddenly strikes me that this is how I feel when I’m with Max: the buoyancy, the fullness, and the ache of happiness. I feel like I become more with him. There’s a piece of me that emerges only when he’s there. The way a harmony only strengthens a melody line, making it richer and more beautiful: he makes me feel that way. He discovered a way into that vulnerable part of me where a hole had been torn so wide, I’m not sure it can ever be repaired. Still, he’d found his way there to comfort me.

  The orchestra’s finish is amazing, on point, and received with an immediate burst of applause. They get a standing ovation from the rest of our school, and even some of the other audience members.

  I watch Max bow from the back row, and I feel it – when his gaze lands on me – that feeling that is so deliciously full, it balances on the edge of excessive, leaving me close to bursting.

  Hayden is right. I did enjoy the bass player’s performance.

  I need to show Max that I’m ready to reach out to him – to finally make some changes. I want him to know that I’m willing to take some risks.

  But how?

  Chapter 17

  Max

  Disney is surreal. Just being here is like we’re all actors in one of their movies. It’s like, at any moment, someone will break into a song and dance number. Oh, wait! That’s actually what we’re supposed to do here at the music competition.

  After spending the morning so deeply entrenched in a nerve-wrecking orchestra festival, we suddenly find ourselves flanked on all sides by what feels like a high school mascot convention. All around us are structures that look like movie sets, as though we’ve been transformed into the characters we watched as kids. It’s a bizarre mix of fantasy and reality – which is also a good description for my current situation with Serena. I’m not sure what’s going on between us. I have to ask myself if I’m imagining something behind the extended gazes, the subtle turn of her lips, or the colour flushing under her skin whenever we make eye contact. Just making any eye contact, at all, seems like we’ve taken our relationship to an entirely new level since Christmas break.

  Right after the performance, I insist that Hayden and I haul ass over to the roller coaster ride, ready for an immediate thrill to release all the tension I’ve experienced that morning onstage. We won’t find out how we placed until the awards night tomorrow. So right now, the jet rocket start, blaring music, and darkened tunnels of inverted loops are exactly what I need to shake out the anxiety from today. Hayden almost pukes afterwards, though, and totally refuses to go on the Tower of Terror with me. Instead, we agree to meet up at the Indiana Jones show an hour later.

  I stop for one of those giant, chocolate-dipped waffle ice cream cones before heading down the crowded, make-believe street towards our meeting place. There’s some interesting people-watching on the way there. You’d think the theme parks would only be packed with little kids and their parents. But, no! I’ve seen at least three bachelorette parties since we arrived. Today, there’s a group of women, all dressed up in sparkly tiaras and pink t-shirts that read: “Princess Tania finds Prince Charlie”. The bride-to-be is wearing a waist-length veil and carrying a golden wand. There are all sorts of young couples here, too, with no sign of any children trailing alongside them. I try to imagine my dads vacationing here – and I just can’t. Our family trips were always about art, music or food. Their idea of a family holiday was either a week on Maui, or a trip to Napa Valley during a culinary wine festival.

  When I get to the Temple of Doom theatre, I draw closer to where Hayden is standing with a few guys from our school.

  “No, seriously! They wouldn’t even let us!” I hear Carl Rosenfeld, the tuba player, complaining.

  “Wouldn’t let you do what?” I interrupt, giving a nod to Hayden who is shaking his head.

  Carl whips around and has to take a step back so that he can look up at me from over a foot below. “Fight Vader,” he says with disgust. That’s when I notice the red, double-sided lightsaber in his hand. “They were letting all these little kids fight him – like – nine-year-olds!”

  “But they wouldn’t let us!” his friend, Patel, breaks in, outraged. He’s taller than Carl, and skinny – a replica of his trombone.

  There’s a stage show, nearby, where young Jedi get an opportunity to fight an actor playing Darth Vader, complete with Storm Trooper laser gunfight and everything. Boris and Hayden are listening to their rant, and Hayden can’t help but comment.

  “So, Darth Sidious, you were planning a return from the dead, and hoping to challenge for a re-match?”

  Carl looks annoyed. “I’m just saying it’s not fair, is all. I mean, that’s just age-ist! We paid to get in here, too!”

  “You mean ‘your dad paid’,” Boris remarks.

  “Whatever,” Carl says, still annoyed, but with the fight seeping out of him like saliva from his tuba spit valve.

  “Well, I hear they take volunteers from the audience in this show,” I say. “Maybe you can bring your lightsaber up there and kick some ass with Han Solo against the snakes.”

  Hayden’s eyebrows approach his hairline.

  “What?” I deflect his wordless commentary on my superior Disney knowledge. “I told you – I watched some YouTube videos before we came.”

  Patel’s mouth drops open, like I’ve announced we have backstage passes to the Grammy’s. “Is it really Han Solo?”

  We all start laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I recognize the voice, but Hayden also glowers over my shoulder, so I know that it’s Vanessa standing behind me.

  Boris slaps Patel on the back. “Oh, nothing. Just Patel thinks that maybe Harrison Ford hangs out here all day, running away from elephant-sized boulders instead of hanging in Malibu somewhere with his millions.”

  “How do you know it’s not him?” Patel mutters.

  I’ve turned, hoping to see Serena, but can’t hide my disappointment that she’s not there. I get the impression from the meddlesome look Vanessa is giving me that she knows I’m scanning the faces behind her, searching for Serena. I see only Lucy, Emily, and some others.

  “We’re here to see the show. Are you guys heading in, too?” Vanessa asks our group.

  Only Carl and Patel are really paying any attention to her now, so they nod, and the larger group begins to move towards the entrance. I signal Hayden, and we turn to walk in with Boris and the others.

  “Serena and Marianna stopped by the washroom. They’ll be here soon,” Vanessa says casually. Is it my imagination, or is she fighting a smirk as she struts past us?

  My feet stumble, following the mixed signals from my brain: Stop? Go? Wait? Hayden rolls his eyes at me. I decide to follow him and the others down to the far right of the stage near the front. It’s like an enormous outdoor half amphitheatre from Roman times. There’s a three-story backdrop, and a ramp on the left that looks like it’s right out of the movie. We get settled into two rows, and it seems as though the show is about to begin.

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe we made it. All of a sudden there was a lineup and I wasn’t sure we’d get in!” Marianna says, standing at the end of the row below us, with Serena beside her.

  When I look up towards them, Serena’s eyes veer away from me. “Is there room for us?” she asks Emily quietly. A shuffle of bodies along the bench follows.

  The show begins almost immediately when a woman walks out, asking for volunteers from the audience to be feature extras in the show. Not shy of the stage, half our group thrusts their hands in the air. Patel looks as though he’s going to piss his pants, his entire body vibrating beneath his raised arm. But she announces that you have to be eighteen, and he deflates, with his mouth letting out a sound like a prank fart balloon. It’s Hayden that’s chosen – of course.

  They make the extras do all sorts of funny things at their expense, but somehow Hayden does it all perfectly, and with such grace and finesse, that he looks like he’s one of the cast members. Meanwhile, a portly mother in
troduced from Idaho appears to be the star of a spoof flick up there. The volunteers are led to get costumes and meet the stunt instructors. Eventually, I understand the purpose of the three-story moving walls. There’s an actual World War II fighter plane up there, there’s gunfire, and explosions so big, you can feel the heat of the fiery blaze from the first few rows where we’re sitting. And, of course, there’s the giant rolling boulder!

  All through the performance, I notice Serena sneaking glances at me again. Each time I catch it, she looks away quickly before I can make any connection.

  At the end of the show, I see Hayden shaking the hand of the stunt instructor, and then confidently stride towards our seats. Boris slaps him on the back, congratulating him, while Patel begins to drill him with questions about the main actor. I catch Hayden’s eye, and I can’t help but smile about how awesome that was. He grins back, and then looks over his shoulder towards the stage again. He makes eye contact with the stunt guy once more. That’s interesting.

  The crowd begins to disperse outside the theatre, and our larger group breaks off to make plans with one another for the evening. Serena is standing next to Emily who is typing furiously on her phone. Vanessa is on her other side, arms crossed tightly against her chest, shaking with impatience.

  “Come on!” Vanessa growls. “We’re going to be late!” She checks the screen of her own phone.

  Hayden and Boris are beside me, talking about the stunt show we should go see. Apparently, it comes highly recommended from Hayden’s new stunt instructor. I’m listening, but keep my eyes trained on Serena, like a secret agent, making sure not to neglect any overture she might make. I notice she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek.

  I should just go talk to her. But – I don’t know – maybe I’m reading her all wrong. Our interactions are like notes on a page with no bass or treble clef to make sense of what’s going on. She still hasn’t approached me since the other night at the restaurant.

  Her eyes flicker up then, and there’s no hiding my attention to her. Her gaze instantly meets mine. We are frozen there, and it’s impossible to tell who is deer and who is headlights. I want to move towards her. I want to turn into some kind of romantic prince in this moment, stride over, and sweep her up into my arms to kiss her lips like one of these fairy tales we’re walking around in.

  “Guys! We’ve got to go!” Vanessa’s talons have wrapped around the shoulders of both Serena and Emily, attempting to carry them away to her lair – our connection, once again, broken by the red-haired beast.

  God, what a chicken-shit I am! A spineless, gutless sap, who doesn’t have the balls to act like the hero of the story.

  “Okay, okay,” Emily is protesting, “I’m just telling Malik and Grace to meet us at the entrance to the show. Relax!”

  They are both being pulled in the other direction, but I don’t take my eyes off Serena. She turns, just briefly, looking over her shoulder, and shrugs. And then, she smiles at me full on – and it’s that deliciously sweet smile that I can’t stop thinking about. My mouth drops open, but I catch it in time to grin back. And I know – I just know – that something good has finally passed between us. It’s like a door has opened: but I have no idea where it’s leading.

  The girls disappear into the sea of visitors, and it takes me a moment or two until I tune back into the conversation that’s been going on around me. Hayden is already smirking at me when I look his way. I can’t help it, I’m still grinning like an idiot.

  Carl is scrolling through an app on his phone.

  “I think it starts in less than an hour, so we better get over there,” he’s saying.

  We start walking to the far end of the park, winding our way through the mythical brownstone storefronts of a New York neighbourhood.

  “That was definitely something back there,” Hayden remarks to me.

  I give him a sidelong glance, but can’t pretend I don’t know what he’s referring to. “Yeah. It felt like something,” I reply.

  He continues in his newfound coaching role. “Don’t wimp out on this. When are you going to have another opportunity?” It’s bizarre to be having such a real-life conversation in such a make-believe location.

  “I know.” And I do know. I know I have to connect with her while I still have the chance.

  It’s not until we’re at the buses that I see Serena again. I overhear some of the Vocal students talking anxiously about tomorrow’s concert, and I wonder how Serena is feeling about the whole thing. I don’t talk to her, though. I don’t want others to listen in on what I might say – and there are too many eyes and ears around to feel comfortable in the gamble that she might actually say something to me this time.

  By the time we reach our parking lot, it’s been dark for hours already. When we get off the bus, Serena is up ahead of me, heading towards her room with her friends. Hayden gives me an exasperated look that says, “Go, already!” And I know he’s right.

  I jog up to her, trying not to gain too much attention from her roommates. Unfortunately, “stealth” isn’t exactly a renowned character trait for someone my size. I reach out to touch her upper arm, and all four of them stop their conversation to turn around at the same time.

  Ninja warrior: that’s me.

  Serena looks startled, but doesn’t recoil from me, at least. A small burst of hope explodes like the evening’s fireworks inside my gut.

  To my complete surprise, Vanessa smiles at me, and says, “Come on Grace and Emily. See you back at the room, Serena.”

  Serena glances quickly towards them and nods before turning back to me.

  And then, we’re alone.

  “Hey,” I manage.

  “Hey,” she replies.

  We stand there, facing one another.

  I can’t quite figure out what to do with my hands, so they clench and unclench at my sides, and I notice that Serena is mashing her lips together.

  “You were great today,” she says, breaking our uncomfortable silence.

  I shrug one shoulder, feeling awkward with the compliment. “Thanks,” I reply. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

  A small smile appears on her lips. “Not as nervous as I am right now.”

  I realize this is exactly the same conversation we had in front of the restaurant yesterday. I can’t help but smile at our ridiculous unease.

  “Listen, it wasn’t…” I start to say, at the same time that she says, “Max, I know you weren’t…”

  We both stop there, shaking our heads, recognizing how off-tempo we are with one another. There’s an extended pause, but neither of us continues with what we were about to say.

  I kick a rock with the toe of my shoe, and then begin again. “Maybe we can, um…” I try not to stammer too much, “hang out tomorrow before your performance?”

  She looks up from beneath her eyelashes, and a series of small smiles flicker across her lips, connected with moments of uncertainty. “Yeah. Sure. I’d like that.”

  Now what? Should I reach out to hold her hand? Lean in for a kiss? I’m contemplating the grand gesture when a high-pitched whistle followed by a low note from one of the balconies startles us both, and we step apart. I hadn’t noticed how much closer to one another we’d moved while we talked. It’s too dark to figure out who’s up there, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. The moment between us is over.

  Asshole.

  “I’m going to head back,” she says, already backing up in the direction of her room.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “See you tomorrow?”

  She’s hesitating – lingering in her retreat – waiting for my answer.

  “Yeah. See you tomorrow,” I reply.

  And then, she walks away.

  * * *

  When we file onto the buses the next day, headed for Epcot, Mr. Yankov tells us we have the morning free, but have to meet in the early afternoon for the vocal competition. He hands out these special passes that will avoid the lineup to a popular ride at a specified
time.

  All morning, I’ve been watching Serena. She’s granted me a couple smiles, but she’s mostly stuck close to her friends. A few times, on the bus and in the lineup to get in, I hear their melodies and harmonies wrap around each other while they casually practice for their performance today.

  Most of us hurry over to this super cool ride that’s like hang-gliding in a row of theatre seats. It dips and swings while you watch a giant screen showing images of mountains and river valleys, which is pretty awesome.

  Afterwards, we’re standing outside, trying to figure out what to do next. It’s a while until these special passes begin, so the group I’m with start talking about a space ride that sounds intense. But I’m still watching Serena. I see her motioning to her friends, and they each consult their phones. Vanessa shrugs, and her eyes shift in my direction where Serena’s soon follow. Serena smiles while Vanessa smirks and shakes her head, turning back to the group. Serena gives a small wave to her friends, and then breaks from them, looking towards me uncertainly as she approaches.

  “Guys,” I interrupt Boris by grabbing his arm. “I’ll catch up with you later at that other ride.”

  I don’t give any of them time to respond, wanting to make sure I don’t screw up this opportunity, as Serena heads in my direction. I meet her halfway.

  “Hey.” I reveal my undeniably charming ways.

  At least the corners of her lips are still pointed in the right direction.

  “Are you hungry?” she asks. It’s fair to say that I did not expect this question. She must read the confusion on my face because she explains, “Apparently there are all these international restaurants at the far end of the park. Do you want to go for a walk there?”

  That’s a no brainer – on both accounts: food and her.

  “Uh – Yeah!” I reply, clear with how obviously interested I am.

  She lets out a small laugh at my response, and I think I’m going to lose it right there in front of everyone. But I can feel the eyes on our backs, so I pull her towards the escalator.