Keeping Her Secret

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Keeping Her Secret Page 8

by Sarah Nicolas


  Courtney groaned. She’d dropped her guard, and now she had to wash everything before escaping to the arts hut. At least she’d been wearing black pajama shorts, and not her trademark white ones. But then she laughed. This was a new one. And brilliant in its simplicity. She’d have to come up with something great as retaliation.

  She turned a shower on and rinsed the ketchup from her shorts and legs.

  When she was wiping down the stall floor, Riya stumbled into the bathroom. She’d braided her hair before bed, but wide locks had escaped to frame her face in soft black wisps. Her eyes weren’t fully open yet, and her expression reminded Courtney of a newborn kitten.

  “You’re up early,” Riya said before spotting Courtney on her hands and knees, wet, pink paper towels in her right hand. She froze, then her eyes went wide, and she slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her chuckles. “I almost forgot.”

  Courtney mustered her best scowl and went back to wiping at the ketchup remnants. “You could have ruined my clothes.”

  “Yeah, because the bug juice wouldn’t have stained my clothes.” Riya’s voice crackled with sarcasm.

  Courtney jerked her head up to glare at Riya, who met her gaze with an unwavering stare. Confidence, defiance. This was new. Courtney kind of liked it.

  As Riya changed and brushed her hair, Courtney took extra time to make sure she removed every trace of ketchup from the stall walls. Not that she actually cared about how clean it was, but it gave her something to do.

  “Ready?” Riya’s voice came from much closer than expected.

  Courtney craned her neck to stare up at Riya, who stood just outside the stall door. She’d wound her long, dark hair into a fresh, tight French braid and wore another pair of those curve-hugging short shorts with an oversized DHS Volleyball shirt that said, It’s in your heart, or it’s IN YOUR FACE!

  Courtney hopped to her feet and brushed past Riya, flinging dirty paper towels into the trash on her way out the door. Outside, Riya’s feet scuffled on the steps as her shorter legs attempted to catch up with Courtney.

  Riya squeaked.

  Courtney spun and everything seemed to slow down. Riya’s arms pinwheeled as she tried to catch herself with small, stumbling steps. Courtney lunged forward and reached out her arms, catching Riya’s shoulders with both hands. Riya’s momentum carried her forward two more steps, and she halted inches from Courtney.

  Riya’s lips parted as she heaved deep, panicked breaths. The rhythmic rushes of air grazed Courtney’s face, smelling of sweet mint. Riya raised her big brown eyes to meet Courtney’s. Her cheeks flushed garnet against her bronze skin.

  “Thank you,” Riya said, her voice rasping deep in her throat.

  Courtney’s heart pounded painfully against her ribs, and she told herself it was just adrenaline, not the knowledge that her lips hovered a twitch away from Riya’s. The way her breath seemed to be trapped in her throat had nothing to do with the way Riya’s eyes flashed to Courtney’s lips every other second.

  Courtney’s hands grew clammy against Riya’s hot shoulders, which was why she realized she still held them. Courtney yanked her hands back and, much to her surprise, loosed a bark of half-panicked laughter.

  Riya answered with a small laugh. Courtney blinked hard, clearing her thoughts.

  “How in the world do you play elite volleyball when you can’t walk down stairs without tripping?” Courtney asked.

  Riya’s blush deepened. “I’ve walked down those stairs at least four times without tripping.”

  “Four?” Courtney laughed as she resumed walking toward the volleyball court. “Does that mean you’ve tripped the other twenty times?”

  “Um,” was all Riya said. She stared at her feet.

  “Do you fall on the court?” asked Riya.

  Riya giggled. “Everyone falls in volleyball. We roll and jump to our feet. Plus, we’re wearing kneepads so it doesn’t really hurt. Not to mention, I’m focused when I’m on the court. Walking around, I…I get distracted.”

  Courtney looked at Riya, wondering what possibly could have distracted her that morning, but she continued staring at her feet. Riya drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it.

  In the silence that followed, Courtney scanned the mountains surrounding them. It was a clear, crisp morning, and the air felt warmer than the last couple of days. Birds of prey soared high before diving down to disappear in the treetops.

  Riya broke the silence. “Where do you want to go? For college, I mean. Do you have an idea?”

  Courtney sighed. “My parents want me to go to Harvard or Yale, like they did.”

  Riya turned her head and examined Courtney’s face. “You don’t sound too excited for what sounds like some incredible opportunities.”

  Courtney shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter.”

  Riya’s lips twisted as she thought. “Yesterday you told me that I can do whatever I want to do. Maybe you should take some of your own advice?”

  Courtney shook her head. “It’s different for me.”

  “Well, yeah.” Riya scoffed. “You’re Courtney Chastain. You have everything a girl could want.”

  “That’s not true,” Courtney said. Riya just didn’t realize the pressures and expectations set on “Courtney Chastain.”

  “Really?” Riya was starting to sound angry. “You have money. You can actually carry on a conversation with anyone without stuttering or tripping over your own feet. You’re graceful and beautiful with perfect hair and flawless skin. Plus, you’re crazy smart, even though you don’t want anyone to know it.”

  Courtney’s heart fluttered when Riya said “beautiful,” but it broke out into a salsa rhythm when she called her “smart.”

  Riya continued, unaware of Courtney’s reaction to her words. Her tone grew harsher. “So what, exactly, do you not have?”

  Courtney knew the answer right away. “Freedom,” she said.

  Riya pursed her lips. “You’re as free as you decide to be.”

  Riya didn’t understand. Courtney had so much to lose and she wasn’t strong, not like Riya was.

  Riya stopped walking, and Courtney realized they’d reached the volleyball court. The two stood still for several seconds.

  “Anyway, thanks for saving me from smashing my face in,” Riya said.

  Courtney shrugged. “Anytime.”

  Riya laughed. “I really don’t fall that often.”

  …

  Courtney was squeezing every extra minute out of her practice time when someone strolled through the door of the art hut. She jumped back and shrieked. Colt stood just inside the doorway.

  His eyes went wide. “Jumpy?”

  Courtney half-heartedly punched his shoulder. “You shouldn’t scare a girl like that.”

  He searched her face. “You don’t normally scare so easily.”

  “Riya got me this morning. I guess I’m still a little on edge.”

  “Got you?” He stepped aside so she could enter the hut.

  Courtney raised her foot onto a table and leaned forward into a hamstring stretch. “We’re in a prank war. It’s a long story.”

  “Long story,” Colt echoed, sounding skeptical. “We’ve been at camp for a couple of days.”

  Courtney ignored the implications in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh!” His head jerked up. He smiled. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Riya’s parents called, and she has to go home right away?” Courtney said, switching legs.

  Colt stopped. “What? No. What?” He frowned.

  “Wishful thinking.”

  “I like having her here. We’re catching up. Our friends like her. And you said everything was okay. Nothing to figure out, remember?”

  She met her brother’s eyes. “Wishful thinking?”

  “Oh, Court,” he crooned.

  “It’s fine, really. I don’t even talk to her during the day.” For some reason, she didn’t want to mention their early morning talks.
They felt too private, isolated from everything else.

  Colt looked like he might hug her, so she dropped her leg and bent at the waist, touching the floor with her fingertips. She could hold everything in as long as no one gave her any sympathy. She had this obnoxious habit: when she teetered on the edge of tears, the tiniest act of compassion opened the floodgates.

  “Everyone knows that ‘fine’ is universal girl-code for definitely not okay,” Colt said. “And how can you not talk to her when you’re in the same cabin?”

  “More than that. We share a bunk bed,” Courtney muttered.

  “You share a bed?” He raised his voice, getting all brother-protective on her. “Do you want me to talk to Fozzie Bear? I’m sure he’d switch your cabin.”

  She jolted to her full height. “Absolutely not. I can handle it.” She couldn’t have anyone thinking otherwise, especially Riya. She couldn’t give Riya any reason to think there was something to handle.

  He held up his hands as if he faced a wild bear. “Okay, okay.”

  Satisfied, Courtney lowered into a lunge, stretching her calf.

  “But you should talk to her,” Colt said.

  The boy would just not let it go.

  “You wanted to tell me something?” she reminded him, changing the subject yet again.

  Colt remained quiet. Courtney raised her arms over her head, then lowered her left, staring down the length of her arm at him.

  His expression drew in on itself. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Spill it.” It was too early to tread through his mitigation. They both needed to get to breakfast.

  “I think I like Dee,” he said.

  Courtney’s forehead creased as she tried to figure out who Dee was. “Oh, Delores?”

  Colt nodded.

  “Like, like. In that way?”

  “Yep.”

  “Huh.”

  “That’s it?” He sounded relieved.

  “She doesn’t seem like your type, but if that works for you. Why do you think I’d be upset?”

  “Isn’t she basically your sworn enemy?”

  Courtney laughed. “What, because of the pranks from the last two summers? It’s not that big of a deal.”

  Colt twisted his lips and cocked his head. “Okay.”

  His confusion didn’t surprise her. She’d made a big deal out of getting pranked in the past, throwing a fit, demanding the counselors do something about it—though never giving them the information they’d need to do so.

  “But?” Colt asked.

  But. Colt had never pursued anyone at summer camp. That was Courtney’s deal. Every other summer, she’d kissed at least three boys by now. What held her back this year? She knew only one thing was different, but there was no way Riya’s presence should or would have such an impact on Courtney’s love life. Courtney had done a great job of totally ignoring her, after all.

  “Good thing it’s just summer camp,” she said instead. “Because Mom and Dad would hate her.”

  Colt shrugged. “They don’t get a vote.”

  “How can you be so blasé about it?” Her shoulders tensed just thinking about her parents’ reactions. Colt was a great son, adored by their parents. Courtney couldn’t figure out how he got away with so casually defying them.

  “Why do you put so much stock into what they think? It’s your life.”

  It didn’t feel like it, hadn’t in years. The only thing she had of her own was ballet. And soon, that would be gone, too.

  Weird that Colt and Riya had told her basically the same thing that morning. She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Did you talk to Riya today?”

  Colt shook his head, brow twitched in confusion. “No, but you should.” He started toward the door, then stopped, turning to face his sister. “Don’t be so scared of her.”

  Her spine stiffened. “I’m not scared.” But the way her heart sped up at the mere prospect exposed her lie, at least to herself.

  His half smile provoked her. “Prove it.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to her, if I have a chance.”

  “Today,” he insisted. “Talk to her today.”

  Chapter Eight

  At lunch, her friends kept bursting out in laughter at Riya’s early morning prank. “Courtney,” they kept saying. “Courtney. Courtney. Courtney.” Riya didn’t want to hear her name any more. With every repetition, she saw Courtney leaning into Derek, Courtney sitting on Derek’s lap in between sessions, disappearing with Derek during quiet time. She shouldn’t care. She told herself the pangs of jealousy were leftover feelings from four years ago. Remnants of what she’d felt when she still didn’t quite understand who she was.

  “What movie are they playing tonight?” Riya asked.

  Tiffany and Stefanie took over the conversation, granting Riya relief from the reprise.

  “Definitely a horror,” Tiffany said.

  “No way,” Stefanie said. “Probably a superhero movie.”

  Everyone launched into a discussion about their favorite movies. Riya was surprised to learn that Tiffany—quiet, serious Tiffany—was a sucker for cheesy rom-coms. Stefanie gagged as her twin listed off her favorites and countered with her favorite action flicks. Elise shyly admitted to an undying love of science fiction and fantasy.

  “I’m a huge nerd!” she declared. Riya liked the way she said it, mostly casual with a hint of pride.

  “Everyone’s going to volleyball, right?” Dee asked.

  For the first time that day, Riya felt true excitement. The twins were great players, and Riya couldn’t wait to volley with them again. She just had to suffer through one of the artsy sessions before she could get back on the court. Riya’d never thought about it before, but now that she was required to do some kind of craft or art every day, she was definitely not even remotely right-brained. Every after-lunch session was dedicated to arts, probably to keep any of the campers from losing their lunch.

  She’d settled on leather stamping, mainly because she liked Nancy more than the counselors teaching the other sessions.

  As early as Nancy would let her leave the class, she headed straight for the court to get some extra practice in during the transition time, before anyone else showed. Dee volunteered to join her, claiming she was too nervous to do anything else. They’d said hello in passing a couple times that morning, but Colt promised her he’d come to the volleyball session.

  They served the same ball back and forth for a couple minutes, then passed the ball over the net for a while longer. Dee had solid basic skills but lacked the control and instinct that came with playing regularly. She, unlike Riya, was a natural athlete. Bodily kinesthetic intelligence was the term. Riya had none of it.

  When they both glistened with sweat, they sat on the side of the court, feet stretched out between them, rolling the ball back and forth.

  After a minute of companionable silence, Dee spat out a question. “So what’s the deal with you and Courtney Chastain?”

  Riya raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and shrugged. She raised her hands, then dropped them.

  “You’re squirming,” Dee pointed out, smirking. “Don’t pretend like there’s nothing. The vibe between you two is weird. You leave early together every morning.”

  Riya admired Dee’s directness. Not at the exact moment, precisely, but she did admire it in general. So she disclosed everything. It felt good to get the whole story out in the open. Someone to talk things through when endless obsessive thought got her nowhere would be a welcome change.

  “You want to know what I think?” Dee asked.

  Riya squinted at her. “Maybe?”

  Dee snickered before growing serious. “She likes you. And it terrifies her.”

  Sensation swelled in Riya’s chest. Riya thought in silence for several seconds. If Dee was right… No, she couldn’t open her mind to that possibility. Riya didn’t even know if she really liked this new, more jaded Courtney, and everything would be so much easier if neither of them cared. “No way,
” she said. “I make her uncomfortable.”

  “The truth always makes people uncomfortable. Especially people like her.”

  “People like her?” Riya knew everyone at Pine Ridge had a very different opinion of Courtney than she did, and many of them didn’t like her or were scared of her.

  “She’s an American princess. Someone like us starts dating a girl, not many people even blink these days, but Courtney? Everyone would talk. Some of them would pick on her, try to embarrass her. And that would be nothing compared to what she’d face at home.”

  Riya had experienced almost no resistance the first time she publicly dated a girl, besides gross comments from guys who tried to make it all about them. Granted, they’d both been athletes and not the first girl-girl relationship at their school. She didn’t even think about it, she’d been so wrapped up in her feelings for Astrid that everything seemed perfectly natural. Her parents had always been open on the topic of sex, and they’d been the first ones to use the b-word. It wasn’t until they moved last year that she realized how easy her coming out had been, compared to many. That’s also when she realized that “coming out” wasn’t an event, but a never-ending process. Riya kept her hair long and wore dresses, so everyone—sometimes, even, the girl she harbored a crush on—assumed she was straight.

  Dee was right; dating a girl wouldn’t be so uneventful for Courtney Chastain. Assuming she wanted to, of course. And an assumption based on a thirteen-year-old’s kiss four years ago was not a sound one.

  Riya nudged Dee’s foot with hers. “How’d you get so good at this queer stuff?”

  Dee shrugged. “My older brother’s gay, maybe genderqueer. He’s working it out. It’s tough for a gay Puerto Rican dude living in Tennessee, you know? So I got really involved in the community. So many people are ready to tell their stories to someone who’ll listen and not judge. Listening’s easy. I’m getting better at the not-judging part.”

  “That’s really cool.”

  Other students trickled onto the court. Dee and Riya started a bump circle with them, warming up until the session officially started. Tiffany, Stefanie, and Elise walked up, but Elise laid a blanket on the ground about fifteen feet from the court. Colt, David, Derek, and Courtney arrived together along with Courtney’s friend Bridget. Since breakfast, Courtney’s hair had been freed of its bun, and it tumbled around her shoulders, glinting in the sunlight.

 

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