The Secret (4 page)

Rob stepped into the room, immediately looking at the doctor and moving behind him to see what he was writing in the chart. “She’s been awake for about an hour.”

Looking over his shoulder, annoyance touched the edges of the doctor’s face and he took a step to the side. Rob had clearly pestered him while I was sleeping. “Well, it looks like you’ll be back to normal before you know it,” he said to me. “Tests look fine. Trauma to the head usually starts to manifest by now if it’s anything major.” Backing out of the room, he waved. “Please call if you have any questions.”

Relief coursed through me. “Thanks.”

Rob put his finger in the air and I knew he must have a million hypotheticals to ask the doctor. “Just one thing…” He followed the doctor out.

That was it? I wasn’t leaving? Leaning back in the bed, I let out a breath. We were safe here. I took my water off the bedside table and drank deeply, turning to look at Jake.

Scanning my face, his eyes narrowed, and he lifted his head up and down as if mulling something over.

“What?” Suddenly, I felt self-conscious about the lack of personal hygiene that accompanies any stay at the hospital. I pulled the blanket to my neck.

Jake sighed. “Really?”

His unbelieving stare made me feel ridiculous and I turned my head away from him.

Intently, he leaned forward. “I was just thinking that your hair has so many shades in the sunlight; a little red, gold, brown—it’s…” Putting down his chain on the table beside the bed, he reached for a strand of my hair.

Breathing became difficult and I held perfectly still. My father was the only one who’d ever given me a compliment like that. I knew my cheeks were turning red. “Thanks.”

As he pulled the strand of hair through his fingers, I felt my insides start to melt—never really knowing what that meant before this moment.

“Why did you move here, Lanie?” His voice was quiet.

“I…”

Jake stood, facing me. “
Lanie
.”

My emotions were manic. I couldn’t tell him the truth, and I didn’t want to make up another lie. “Please—just go.”

Jake didn’t move.

Just then, Rob stepped through the door. I wondered if he’d been waiting outside and how much he’d overheard. “You heard the lady.”

Silence filled the room. Eventually, Jake turned away. “Catch ya later, Lanie.”

I tried to get control of myself as Jake left, blinking rapidly.

Rob sat down next to me. “Does he know?”

Shocked, I stared at him. “No.”

Taking off his glasses, Rob rubbed his hand across his face.

I caught a glimpse of Jake’s chain laying in a huddled mass on the table next to my bed. “Can you hand that to me?”

Rob picked it up, pulling it toward him and reading the inscription aloud, “Astra inclinant sed non obligant.”

As we looked at each other in shock, my head started cracking with pain.

Episode 4: Fate

“The power of choice!” Mr. Drake widened his eyes like some brilliant, eccentric scientist. “Many of you forgot to mention this in your reports.” Dropping both hands on the table in front of him, he leaned forward, peering over the class with an air of importance. “That is what makes the protagonist a hero—their ability to
make choices
. It’s not what’s happening to them—it’s what they
do
about it.”

I could still hear my father saying, ‘“Your gift does not determine who you are, Lanie—what are we without freewill?” He’d talked about it incessantly.

Astra inclinant sed non obligant—
the stars incline us, they do not bind us
. The motto of The Foundation.

Shifting back in his seat, Jake extended his legs, slouching back into my desk space. Resisting the urge to stab him with my pen, I bit down on the end of it. Alone. I needed to get him alone. Tension coursed through me, and my taut nerves felt like the end of a live electric wire searching for an outlet.

Simple—the plan was simple. I’d consulted Stewart on the matter and he’d suggested I covertly check for the mark.

Covertly? How did one run their finger behind someone’s ear without being noticed? I sighed a little too loudly and Jake turned, looking at me for the first time since the class had started.

Squelching my desire to yank his ear forward and check for the mark right then, I smiled.

He tilted his head forward in acknowledgement.

I focused on the doodle of the butterfly in the right corner of my notebook. I’d been working on texturing the edges lately, making them thicker and detailed like a vine twisting at the edges, and following in a haphazard pattern.

“Lanie.” Looking up, I saw Mr. Drake smiling at me. “I can see you’re no worse for the wear?”

Touching my bandage, I nodded. The scar was near my hairline and a lot of the swelling was gone, but the bandage was pretty noticeable. I’d worn my hair down and let it be wild and curly, hoping to hide it.

He slapped my paper down in front of me. “Glad to hear it. But you could have waited longer on the paper. Two days isn’t very long to recover from something like that.”

Uncomfortable, I cleared my throat. “It was no big deal.”

“I agree with your assertion that Darcy is the classic hero/anti-hero character. It seems a part of the reader wants to believe he’s good, but the letter serves a solid purpose of showing his true motivations—otherwise they would have remained unknown to us.” Brushing his hand down his mustache in thought, Mr. Drake moved his head up and down in approval. “Very good, Ms. Hart.” The bell rang and he turned to the class. “Have a good weekend, everyone.”

Standing, I didn’t notice my fingers sliding over the doodle until I heard a flutter. Crap. Squashing the now real and fully-formed wing onto the page, I slapped the notebook closed and shoved it into my backpack.

“Hey.” Jake wore a white turtleneck and black jeans. His hair looked perfectly messed up and his eyes tired.

My heart raced. Forcefully pulling the zipper shut, I gave him a canned smile, hoping he hadn’t seen anything. “Hey.”

He reached out, taking my backpack before I could protest. “I’m sorry about before. It’s none of my business.”

Raising one eyebrow, I shook my head. He hadn’t seen it. My chest eased, releasing the breath I was holding. “‘K.”

As we walked out of the classroom, Marsha and Karen stopped us.

Marsha’s face contorted in disgust. “Eew. How long do you have to wear that bandage?”

Hating her a little bit, I shrugged. I was sure she’d never had a zit or bad hair day.

Giving Marsha a disapproving glance, Karen shushed her and reached her hand out to touch the bandage gently. “Poor Lanie.”

Quickly yanking my head away, I rammed it into a locker.

Loud laughter boomed down the hall. “Can’t take you anywhere, Hart.” Reed stepped next to Jake, bumping into him and wanting him to share in the joke.

Closing my eyes, I held onto the wall for balance.

Jake placed his hand around my back, and turned, fuming. “Get out of here, Reed.”

Stepping to my side, Karen fluttered, her glasses falling crookedly on her face. “I’m sorry. Can I take you to the nurse?”

I opened my eyes and felt a clammy sweat on my face. “I’m fine.” I started walking, staying close to the wall.

Marsha turned on her heel apathetically. “See you at lunch.”

“Let me take you to the nurse.” Karen walked uncertainly in front of me.

Her friendly gesture made me smile gratefully. “I think I’m okay, thanks.”

She looked at Jake, who waved her away. “Okay, I’ll see you at lunch, Lanie,” she said, and stopped, watching us walk away.

“Uh-huh.” The bathroom loomed in front of me.

Jake stopped. “Let
me
take you to the nurse.”

Feeling dizzy but not wanting to be a charity case—again—I pulled my backpack off his shoulder and turned into the bathroom. “I’m fine. I just need to splash some water on my face.”

Waves of nausea pulsed through me as I ran for a stall, prepared to lose the toast and eggs I’d eaten that morning. I hovered over the toilet, until my stomach gradually eased and I stood up, disgusted at public bathrooms. What did Jake know? He seemed willing to resume our friendship like nothing had happened. Is that what we were…friends?

The bell rang and I resigned myself to the fact that I would most likely be missing my Algebra II class. Opening the stall door, I went to the sink, taking care not to get any water on my bandage. I picked up one of my curls. It wasn’t enough that it was red…it had to be thick and highly unmanageable. Pausing, I tried to see the gold and brown Jake had talked about. Warmth spread through me at the memory of him touching it.

“Lanie.” His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was low.

He’d waited for me?

Picking up my bag, I walked out the door. “Hey.” 

Relaxing his posture, Jake turned his keys in a circle on his finger, but his eyes were serious, seeming to examine me. Finally, he spoke. “Sorry I didn’t help you with the report.”

Trying to remember the earlier anger I’d felt toward him, I faltered. Was he really part of The Foundation? It’d made perfect sense…that’s why he’d been interested in me, nice to me…so concerned. But now, staring into his ocean blue eyes, I wanted to believe it was something else. I wanted to believe it wasn’t The Foundation that brought him to me—but that he just…liked me. 

“No biggie,” I said.

He stepped closer and I caught a whiff of his aftershave. Freshly cut grass after a rainstorm came to mind. He smelled good. Staring at my bandage, he frowned. “At least it’s smaller than it was.”

My heart started to thud rapidly in my chest; he was so close to me. Looking at his face, I realized I wanted to touch it, run my fingers across his warm skin. His lips. They were inches away. I wanted to kiss him.

“Lanie.”

I looked down. His eyes were on my lips too.

And then I knew.

I knew how I could check for the mark. Reaching up, I placed my hands on his shoulders, feeling him stiffen for a second. But I was insistent.

He put his hands over mine, stepping back. The touch of his hands startled me. “Not like this, Lanie.” Shaking his head a little, he smiled. “I mean, just not here.”

Disappointment washed through me. I
did
want to kiss him…and not just to check for the mark. “Then where?”

Dropping our hands, he searched my face in question—but laughed a little. “Man.” He ran his hand through his hair and a broad grin spread over his face. “I don’t know what to think about you.”

My face felt warm as humiliation tinged the edges of my pride. Telling myself I didn’t care what he thought, I started down the hallway. “Never mind.” Why was I embarrassed? This was about the mark.

“Yeah...see you at lunch, Lanie.”

“Hey.” Holding her tray carefully in front of her, Karen smiled at me. Her eyebrows bunched in concern. “Are you okay?”

I was tired of being asked that. “Fine.” It came out a little harshly.

Karen’s eyes softened and she nodded kindly, seeming to understand my frustration. Gesturing with her head toward the back of the room, she waited for me. “We’re back here.”

Reed was already there, ripping open a Twinkie and sticking the entire thing in his mouth. Glancing at us, he pulled a sandwich out of a brown paper bag. “‘Sup.” 

I sat down at the table, still a little surprised I’d become part of a group so easily. Normally, I relied on several well-worn books for company at lunch for the first few weeks.

Marsha plunked down her backpack, pulling back the tab on her diet pop. “Hey.” She looked at Karen and I miserably. Did you guys hear?”

I was surprised Marsha would think I would hear anything.

“Hear what?” Reed’s mouth was full.

“Under the Stars.” Annoyance leaked out of her.

More than confused, I jerked toward her. “What?” Stars?

Her nostrils flared and I gathered this was something very bad.

“The theme.” Jake sat next to me, leisurely picking up the fork on his tray and tapping it in the air at Marsha. “It’s your fault.”

Marsha lifted a shoulder in acquiescence and took a sip of her pop. “I know.”

Karen took everything off of her tray and seemed to be organizing it in front of her. “Shoot, I had my heart set on the couple thingy.” She didn’t sound that disappointed.

Contorting her face in anguish, Marsha turned to me. “It was going to be so great. Pick a movie star couple and go as them. I was going to be Angelina Jolie and…” She rolled her eyes, but nodded at Reed. “He would have been Brad Pitt.” Pulling up her hair, her face shone with animation. “And I would have worn my hair up, pushed back with strands coming down—like this.” She shook her head princess-like, back and forth.