Rules for Secret Keeping Page 19

  I pop a Jolly Rancher into my mouth, pull my social studies book out of my bag, and start to read. A minute later, I hear the squeak of someone’s shoes on the grass. I look up. And almost choke on my Jolly Rancher.

  It’s Jake.

  “Hey,” he says. He stands in front of me, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, a sheepish look on his face.

  I close my book. “Hi,” I say.

  He pulls something out from behind his back. One flower. One pink carnation with a long stem.

  “This is for you,” he says. I take the flower. I’ve never gotten a flower from a boy before. In fact, I’ve never gotten anything from a boy before. Jake sits down next to me on the bench, our legs touching.

  I swallow. “What about Emma?” I ask. “I mean, aren’t you guys—”

  “No,” he says. “I’m not with Emma. I never was.” He takes a deep breath. “Didn’t you get all my texts and messages?”

  “I don’t have my phone,” I say. “I’m grounded.”

  “For what?”

  “Long story.”

  “What about emails?” he asks. “I emailed your personal account.”

  “Haven’t checked it,” I say. “Only my school email, since I got my computer time taken away too.” He nods and we don’t say anything for a second. Then he reaches out and takes my hand. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Jake. Is. Holding. My. Hand.

  “Listen, I never liked Emma,” he says. “Not in that way. I always liked you. Over the summer, when I was at camp? I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know, it was like . . . something had changed between us.”

  Yes! I knew it! Something did change between us that day! I knew he felt it too. But still. That doesn’t change the fact that we almost kissed and then he blew me off. Or the fact that he was passing secrets with Emma. “But, you and Emma were passing all those secrets,” I say. “And you decided to go to the Fall Festival with her.” I’m looking down at the ground, halfway afraid to look at him. It’s not that I don’t believe what he’s saying . . . it’s just that it doesn’t make sense. Plus, it’s enough of a distraction that he’s holding my hand. No way I’m going to be able to keep my wits about me if I look at him.

  “The secrets were mostly about you,” he says. “About whether or not she thought maybe you liked me.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask Daphne if I liked you?” I finally look at him, and he looks at me, and it’s just like that day with TSSI, only better.

  “Because I knew Daphne would tell you,” he says. “And I didn’t know if you liked me back.” He blushes. “And the only reason I told Emma we could hang out at the Fall Festival was because she told me there was a chance you were going to meet up with her later.”

  “But why didn’t you just tell me that when I asked you about it that day we got into our fight?” He’s sitting really close to me now, and I can smell the cologne he’s wearing, and I can feel the softness of his fleece jacket against my arm.

  “I was embarrassed,” he says. “I didn’t know if I wanted you to know how much I really liked you. Emma said in her notes that you didn’t like me, and then she asked me if I liked you, and I said yes. I figured she would tell you at some point, and then I’d be able to figure out how you really felt. It was all so confusing, especially after that day in my room when we were looking at Olivia’s website. I just . . . I don’t know, I freaked out.” He pulls his hat off and swings it around, so that the brim is facing backward. I remember that one note I read, the one that simply said “yes,” and my heart does a flip. Jake wasn’t saying yes about liking Emma. He was saying yes about liking me.

  Jake grins. “Any more questions?”

  “Two more,” I say. “One, why are you finally telling me this now?”

  “Because when you wouldn’t talk to me, I realized how much I really missed you.”

  “Good answer,” I say.

  Jake’s grin gets bigger. “What’s the second question?”

  “So I didn’t imagine it when . . .” I take a deep breath, “When, um, we almost kissed? You really did want to?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I really did want to.” And then he’s moving closer toward me, and his lips are right there, and they look soft and kissable and I don’t have time to think before he brushes them against mine. And this time, it’s definitely not my imagination.

  Daphne and I spend an hour and a half in The Common talking about what just happened outside on the soccer field. (“Did you like it?” “Was he a good kisser?” “Are you guys, like, boyfriend/girlfriend now?” “Does this mean I’m a third wheel?” Yes, yes, yes, and no.)

  We get so caught up in our conversation that we totally lose track of time and Daphne’s poor mom is waiting outside for, like, twenty minutes before we get in her car and start heading home. When we pull onto my street ten minutes later, I’m still smiling.

  “Any chance your mom might give you your cell back tonight?” Daphne asks hopefully.

  “I think so,” I say. “My grounding’s supposed to be over tomorrow, so she might give me a pass.”

  “Cool,” Daphne says. “I’ll call you so we can discuss.” She gives me a meaningful look, one of those You know what I’m talking about but I can’t say it in front of my mom kind of looks.

  “Okay,” I say, throwing her a grin.

  “We have a lot of things to talk about.” She raises her eyebrows up and down and we both collapse into giggles.

  “What is going on with you two?” Daphne’s mom asks, shaking her head. “Seriously, you guys have had the giggles the whole way home.”

  “Nothing, we’re just, you know, giggly,” Daphne says. Which makes no sense but for some reason makes us giggle even more.

  Daphne’s mom pulls up to my house, and suddenly, my smile disappears and my heart drops. Because my dad’s car is in the driveway, and he’s sitting on our front porch. Taylor and Tom are with him. Oh. My. God.

  “Uh-oh,” Daph says, turning around in the front seat and looking at me. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say, even though I don’t know if it’s true. “I’ll be fine.”

  I thank Daphne’s mom for the ride and then jump out of the car, my heart beating all crazy in my chest.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say as I walk up the driveway.

  “Hi, Samantha,” he says. He’s wearing his suit, and he stands up and slides his hands into his pockets.

  “Dad picked me up from cheerleading and, uh, I thought maybe we could all talk,” Taylor says. “If that’s okay with you?” She looks nervous, like I might go crazy on her for springing this on me with no notice. And honestly, normally I probably would. But I’m in too good of a mood. And besides, ignoring the problems with me and my dad and with my dad and Tom isn’t going to make them go away.

  “Come on,” I say, giving them all a smile. “Come inside and I’ll make everyone a snack.”

  I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I just know that everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to work things out with my dad. I’m going to figure out how to make my dad and Tom at least be able to be in the same room with each other. And if nothing else, I’m going to tell them how I feel. And then I’m going to bring Taylor upstairs and tell her about my very first kiss ever.

  I push open the door and my family follows me inside.

  “Now, who wants a Nutella sandwich?” I ask.

  “Me!” Taylor says.

  “Me!” Tom says.

  My dad hesitates, then says, “Me.”

  I pull down the jar of Nutella, the loaf of bread, and four paper plates. And then I sit down at the table and get ready to tell some secrets.

 

 

  Lauren Barnholdt, Rules for Secret Keeping

 

 

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