Secrets and Lies

I changed out of my pajamas while she talked—which was mostly a series of mutters and grumbles. I’d just pulled my hoodie on when I heard her say, “Okay. Love you, too. See you in an hour.” She tossed the phone onto my side of the bed and covered her face with her hands. “Kill me.”

“I wouldn’t want to deal with the cleanup,” I said. “What did Wesley say?”

“His parents just got home. And they’ve invited me to a Christmas Eve lunch.”

“You could have said no.”

“I could’ve.” She sat up slowly, carefully. “But Wesley said they got me a gift and… I kind of should go. So he’s picking me up here in an hour. Which means I need your shower… and some coffee.”

“We don’t have any coffee.”

By the way B moaned, you’d have thought I’d just killed her beloved pet or something. I started to laugh, but she gave me a scathing look.

“Shower,” she said. “Now.”

“I’ll get you a towel.”

Once B was in the shower, I walked into the bathroom so I could brush my teeth and fix my hair. Part of me wanted to put off telling her about Toby, to wait until she wasn’t hungover and cranky, but the thought of Toby, of not seeing him, pushed me forward.

“So,” I said, just loud enough that she could hear me over the ru

“Please don’t shout.”

“I… wasn’t. But okay. So what I was going to tell you is… I’ve been sort of keeping a secret from you.”

“Casey, I can’t hear you.”

I gritted my teeth. “I was trying not to shout, but… but I’ve kind of… sort of… I hooked up with Toby.”

There was a long pause, then the water suddenly shut off and B poked her head around the shower curtain. “Toby Tucker?”

“Yeah.”

“When did that happen?”

“The night you and Jess picked me up from the bus station. That party. We kind of made out in the bathroom.”

“Wow.” She grabbed the towel I’d hung next to the shower and vanished behind the curtain. When she stumbled back out, she had the towel wrapped around her middle. “I can’t believe you’re just now telling me.”

“I was… I was nervous. I thought you’d be pissed.”

“Why would I be pissed?”

“Uh, do you know you? Everything pisses you off.”

B turned toward the toilet and started dressing in the clothes she’d left on the lid. We’d been friends for thirteen years, and somewhere in there, we’d both lost any sense of modesty around the other.

“You saying that kind of pisses me off, but the Toby thing? Why would that piss me off?”

“Because it’s against the Girl Code,” I said.

Bianca wobbled a little as she attempted to pull on her jeans. “Code? What Code? Who writes these stupid Codes?”

“Well, dating your best friend’s ex is usually a big no-no.”

“Wait—dating?” She turned to face me, one arm through her T-shirt. “You said you made out with him.”

“Well, we did… and then we went on a date. And then another. And another. And…”

“You’ve been dating him and you didn’t tell me?” she asked. “Okay. Now I’m kind of pissed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, hanging my head. “He’s your ex, and it’s weird, but—”

“I don’t give a shit about that.” She finished putting on her shirt. “Fuck the Girl Code or whatever. You didn’t tell me. That’s what I’m pissed about—oh, my head.” She sat down on the toilet and put a hand on her forehead. “Fucking hangover.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“About not telling me or this hangover?”

“Both,” I said.

“I just…” She trailed off. “Wait. Wait—the beers. Were you rushing me through beers so you could sneak off to see Toby? Without my knowing?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh my God,” she said. “Now I’m actually pissed. You didn’t just not tell me. You jumped through hoops to keep this from me. You got me wasted to keep this from me. That’s fucked up.”

I chewed on my lower lip. “I know.”

“Did you really think I’d be that mad? Do you really not trust me?”

“No, I do—I just—”

“I would really like to yell at you,” she said. “But my head hurts too much.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I really am. At first we just kissed and I thought it wouldn’t happen again, so what was the point in telling you, right? And then it did happen again and again and the more time that passed, the more convinced I was you’d hate me. I felt like I was betraying you.”

“By dating a boy I went out with for all of a week? Or two?”

“A boy you had a crush on for three years,” I said.

“In high school,” B said. “Casey, we’re adults now. Kind of. I’ve moved on. I want Toby to, also. Do you like him?”

“Yeah. A lot.” I looked down at my hands. “I’ve kind of screwed it up, though. I kept it from you for so long that he got upset. He walked out on me last night at the party.”

“You kind of deserved it,” B snapped. “If you’d just told me, neither of us would be pissed at you now. I thought you were better than this.”

“I thought I was, too,” I said. “That’s why it was so hard to just say it. I’m the loyal one. I’m not the one who keeps secrets or sneaks around. The longer it went on, the more scared I was.”

“Thanks for insinuating I’m the screwup,” B said. “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It kind of is,” she muttered. “We’re both allowed to mess up, you know. You don’t always have to protect me. Or put yourself on some sort of friendship pedestal. We’re equals, Casey. We fuck up equally.”

“That’s… strangely uplifting. And you’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry. I really am.”

B rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Look. I’m still mad. I don’t know if it’s because you deserve it or because I feel like shit. But I am. I won’t be forever, though. You’re still my best friend, and I’m glad you’re dating someone you like. But we should drop it for now. And you should get me coffee.”

“We don’t have any,” I said.

“Then you should get some from the place down the street,” B said. “After causing this hangover, you kind of owe me.”

I almost pointed out—again—that she never said no to the beers, but I figured it wasn’t worth it. Instead, I just nodded, handed her my hair dryer, and headed down the street, knowing that, when this hangover passed, her anger would, too. We’d be okay. I’d told her the truth, and we’d be okay.

Chapter Six

When Mom came in from work that night, she had a box in her hand. “Hey, honey,” she said. “This was on the front porch. It’s addressed to you.”

I put down the remote control and walked over to her. “I didn’t hear the doorbell ring.”

“It’s broken,” Mom said. “I need to get it fixed.”

I took the box and noticed the return address immediately.

Toby.

I ripped open the box and, inside, found two more boxes, both wrapped in glossy red-and-gold paper. Christmas presents. He’d said he had something for me in mind. He must have mailed the box before our fight the night before. My heart sank a little.

“Something wrong?” Mom asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m just going to open these in my room.”

“Okay. Well, di

“Okay. Thanks, Mom.” I headed upstairs with the boxes. I sat down on my bed and carefully unwrapped the first—a thin rectangular one. Inside, there was a DVD. A French film I’d mentioned to Toby on that accidental date. I’d been wanting to see it for months, but I hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He had, though. Inside the DVD case there was a small slip of paper with a note written in neat block print.

MAYBE WE CAN WATCH THIS TOGETHER SOMETIME.

I felt myself starting to tear up and closed the case with the note inside. Then I turned my attention to the other box. A small square one. Inside, I found a bracelet—a thin gold chain. And next to it was a tiny cloth drawstring bag. I took it out and poured the contents into my hand. Half a dozen little gold charms fell into my palm. I looked closer and realized they were all abbreviations. There was OMG, a WTF—a slew of others, all of which I’d said in front of Toby. Except one.