Not Another High School Love Story

9. Secrets Don't Make Friends

Grace rambles a mile a minute beside me, and suddenly I'm reminded of her mother. It's too early for this, I didn't sleep well again last night, so I'm only pretending to be listening as I go along with whatever she says. It's not her fault she's always been a morning person, but I have half a mind to go hide in the bathroom to get a moment of peace. She's filled to the brim with all kinds of positive vibes, but I just want to crawl into my locker and go back to sleep. Maybe I'm being a little overdramatic, fine, but I haven't been in the best mood lately, and it's not hard to figure out why. Of course she knows something's off about me, and I wonder if that's why she's trying harder than usual. Weird, this is one thing she can't make better.

"You don't know how glad I am that exams are next week. I can't believe I'm actually saying that, but if I manage to ace them I bet my parents will forget all about the party." Grace plots her master plan, but she seems to be laying it out more for her own benefit as she stares across the hall. I don't know what she's so worried about, she'll easily get perfect scores, she always does. She's even smarter than me and that's saying something, because I'm pretty damn smart.

"I'm ready to be done with it too, I swear this has been the longest fucking trimester ever." It must be because of how exhausted I feel, but I grow more frustrated as I fail to find the book I've been digging through my locker for.

"You sure you're ready?" She looks at me with an eyebrow raised, and I know she's trying to be playful.

"Most definitely." I keep my answer short. Her eyes continue to pry, and I know she wants to ask me what's wrong. The only reason she doesn't is because I've lied to her the last few times she's asked, and I'm not sure why. If you ask me, she's pretty much the coolest person in the world, I tell her everything, so I don't know why I haven't told her about Brent. At first I thought it might hurt her because she's in love with him, but she's so much better than that, I know it wouldn't make her lose any sleep—not like it's doing to me. Even now I don't want to tell her.

I'd be too embarrassed to admit the number of hours I've spent replaying what happened in my head, reliving it and trying to dissect it. The more I think about it though, the more confusing it gets, and I can't straighten it out. I can understand how he felt, and why he said the things he did, but every time I think about him kissing me I get lost again. Maybe I'm focusing on that part a little too much. Whatever his reason was, I'm sure it's nowhere near the big deal I'm making out of it. Yet again he makes the blood rush to my cheeks, even if I am still angry about how it all went down.

"What about Brent?" Grace asks, nonchalant.

"What?" I'm caught off guard, and even though I've finally found my book it fumbles from my hand and crashes audibly onto the bottom of the locker. Obviously she hasn't suddenly developed the ability to read minds, so I'm not sure how she knows what I'm thinking. The horrified look I wear doesn't go unnoticed, and she chooses to laugh about it before clarifying.

"Do you think he's ready too? It must suck to miss so much school right before exams, I hope he can make up for it. Did you ever find out what happened to him, by the way? I heard he caught the flu or something, but he probably just decided he didn't want to come." Her flagrant humor does little to amuse me, so she giggles alone at her joke. It's been a week since I'd gone to visit Brent, and a week since anyone has seen or heard from him. I'm not sure what the running cover story is, but I know the truth. If I had to guess, I'd say his dad has been keeping him home so those bruises could have some time to heal.

"Who knows, but I did what I could." This time I do give her the truth. I spent a little more than a month helping him, but it's not my fault he hasn't bothered showing up to his classes. I guess it's not really his fault either, but maybe if he hadn't been such a dick I could've brought his homework to him, and I could've studied with him there. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about him failing after all the work we put in. That's where it becomes his fault, and again I think about what happened, how he had gotten so angry before kissing me and shoving me out into the hallway.