The Perfect Secret Page 17

  Here Mrs. Woods paused; I could sense this was where things got difficult.

  “I applied to several art schools my senior year without Mom knowing.” Mrs. Magenta took over. “I didn’t expect to get in. I did it out of spite. I wanted to prove her wrong. The day my first acceptance letter arrived, Mom and I had our biggest fight. I was so upset, I made Eric drive me to my friend’s house so that I could stay there. On his way home—” Mrs. Magenta’s voice dropped. She had to stop.

  “On his way home Eric was hit head-on by a drunk driver who crossed over into his lane,” Mrs. Woods said. “He was killed instantly. Taken from us at the young age of seventeen.”

  Silence. Randi gripped my hand. The room was heavy with pain and loss and sadness. Trevor nudged Mark, and the two of them pulled over chairs so our teachers could sit down. The rest of us took seats near them.

  “Coach was devastated,” Mrs. Woods suddenly continued. “He pulled away from us and sank into depression. I became terrified of losing Olivia next. I needed her close, where I could keep her safe. Those art schools were all so far away. I did the most terrible thing. I threatened not to pay for any of her schooling if she chose to attend one of them.”

  “Losing Eric hurt so much,” Mrs. Magenta said. “I blamed myself. I needed to get away. I had to go where I wouldn’t be constantly reminded of him. I chose a school far from home. I went and studied education like Mom wanted—and I never came back.”

  “Never?” Scott asked.

  “Not until last year.”

  “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what’s important,” Scott said.

  “You’re right, Mr. Mason,” said Mrs. Woods. “It’s time to live in the present. I’ve got my daughter with me now.”

  The two women leaned and grasped hands again.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, Olivia.”

  “Coach needs to know that his wife and daughter have forgiven each other,” Gavin said. “It’s all he’s wanted.”

  “We’ll take care of that, Mr. Davids. Don’t worry,” Mrs. Woods said. “You do know what he’d say to you right now?” she asked.

  Gavin nodded. “Keep fighting,” he whispered.

  “That’s right. Keep fighting.”

  It’s safe to say that was our most memorable newspaper meeting of the year. Not only did we accomplish our collective goal—the thing we had all set out in July to achieve—but we also took on a new challenge. Something just as important—except this was no secret. After the holidays, we were going to be ready to fight.

  GOALS

  ✓ Resolve the strained relationship between Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Magenta.

  ✓ Keep our plan secret, which requires keeping Scott and the rest of the Recruits quiet—but mainly Scott.

  ✓ Teach Mrs. Davids how to read—and keep our work secret.

  ✓ Nail the bad guys responsible for Scott’s injury.

  • Finish the article on the booster club for Scott.

  ◆ Save Miss Carla Davids!

  I got a ride home with Mrs. Kurtsman after our newspaper meeting. My head was still spinning from all that had happened, but Mom was waiting for me when I walked in the door.

  “Randi, I saw the news. How’s Gavin? Was he in school today?”

  Suddenly I felt exhausted. There was so much to tell that I didn’t know where to begin. I dropped my bag and fell into Mom’s arms. She held me close and rubbed my back. She made me feel safe—like only a mother can do. Just thinking that made me ache for Gav and Meggie.

  I headed into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. Mom brought me a cup of hot tea and sat next to me.

  “Sorry about the wet spot on your shirt,” I said.

  Mom rubbed the area where my runny nose and tears had touched. “It’ll dry.”

  “Can they really force her out of our country?” I asked.

  Mom sighed. She cradled her teacup. “I don’t know, honey. I’m not an expert at this stuff.”

  “Natalie’s mom is handling the case,” I said.

  “That’s good to hear. She’ll fight for Mrs. Davids.”

  The word “Mrs.” reminded me of how much Mom didn’t know. “It’s ‘Miss,’ not ‘Mrs.,’ ” I said. “Gav’s parents aren’t married.”

  “What? You’re kidding me.”

  I shook my head. “It’s true. Imagine how Gav must’ve felt when he found out.”

  “Ohmigoodness. But why?”

  “Gav said they didn’t have the money for a wedding and his mom didn’t want to go to city hall. Mr. Davids didn’t push it. He told Gavin he didn’t need to tie the knot to love his mother any more than he already did.”

  “Smart man. Sometimes we trick ourselves into thinking getting married will make us love one another or fix what’s broken.”

  “Is that what happened with you and Dad?”

  “Yes,” Mom was quick to answer, “but we don’t need to get into that. That was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter.”

  I took a deep breath. “Actually, it does sort of matter.”

  Mom’s face scrunched.

  “Miss Davids isn’t the only one who’s been keeping secrets,” I said. “I need to tell you what happened at camp.”

  “Did you get hurt? Did somebody do something to you?”

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  Mom shifted on the sofa. She placed her cup on the coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. “Then what?” she asked.

  “I’ve got to get something first.” I found my bag and grabbed the pictures I had hidden inside. Then I came back and sat down next to her again. “I’ve been afraid to tell you, and I don’t know why. Gav’s situation has given me a different perspective. What his family is dealing with is awful. What happened to me at camp wasn’t bad. Just unexpected. I’ve been acting silly.”

  “Randi, will you please just tell me? You’re making me nervous.”

  I handed her Kyle’s school photo. “I met this boy at camp. His name is Kyle.”

  “Did you do something with this boy that you want to tell me about?”

  “No, Mom! Jeez!”

  “Just asking. He’s cute. Is he your boyfriend?”

  “He’s my brother.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  “His name is Kyle Cunningham, and he’s my half brother. We met at camp.” Her mouth still hung open. “I know. We couldn’t believe it, either. When he got back home, he sent me this picture.” I handed her the one of Kyle posing with his dad at a wrestling tournament. “After I got it, I scoured our house, searching for a picture of Dad so that I could compare the two. I found this.” I handed her the shot of baby me and Dad making cookies. “And then Kyle sent me this one.” I showed her the picture of toddler Kyle and Dad. Mom just sat there staring at the pictures. She didn’t say anything.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  “He sure didn’t take long to move on and find somebody else, did he?”

  The same thought had crossed my mind. I didn’t know how to respond.

  “So you’re a star gymnast and your brother’s a star wrestler. I used to like to pretend your talents came from me. Guess now we know that isn’t true. Your father was your better half.”

  “Mom, stop it! I’m more than just a gymnast, you know. I also happen to be a good student and a loyal friend. And I know Dad hasn’t helped me become either of those. And he definitely didn’t help me develop as a gymnast.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t always very good at helping with that, either,” Mom said. She peeked at me and gave me a small smile.

  It was my turn to pull her into my arms.

  “How did I end up with such a wonderful daughter?”

  “Do you really want me to explain the birds and the bees?”

&n
bsp; “Ugh!” she groaned, sitting back.

  We laughed. I watched her study the photos some more.

  “Mom, Kyle is going to the Elite Stars Festival. Dad will be there.”

  “I haven’t seen your father since he left all those years ago. Just talking about him brings back all sorts of emotions. I can’t even imagine what seeing him will do.”

  “I’d like to meet him,” I said.

  Mom grew quiet. “He is your father. I can’t be upset with you for wanting to meet him. Just know it might not be as pretty as you’re imagining. We didn’t exactly part on good terms—not at all.”

  “I know. But I’m ready.”

  If Gavin was going to keep fighting for his family, I was going to keep fighting for mine, too. When I took my place at the dinner table, I was ready to do some talking. I’d told Mark I was going to. This wasn’t gonna be one of those quiet meals. No more secrets.

  “Did you know Brian was at my last football game?” I started.

  “He was?” Mom said. “Really?”

  “I saw him. He was standing on the visitor’s side, wearing a cap.”

  Obviously Mom had had no idea. She turned to Dad, and he didn’t say anything. I took that to mean he knew.

  “He was at my game but not with us for Thanksgiving dinner,” I said. “Why?”

  I was talking to Dad, and he knew it. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I wanted my brother around, but Mom was still worrying about him and I had questions.

  “I gave you the tape,” I said. “And you called the police about Chris.”

  Mom looked at Dad and stiffened. She seemed ready for him to explode. Dad put his fork and knife down. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sighed. I’d seen my father mad before. This wasn’t it. He was something else. Distraught? What in the world had happened? Mom leaned forward. She sensed something different in him as well.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom asked, her voice full of concern. “What is it?”

  “It’s time I tell you both what took place,” Dad said, pushing his plate away. “Remember the night when I came home late?”

  We nodded.

  “I got a call from Police Chief Daniels that afternoon. He asked me to stop by the station on my way home. That’s why I was held up.” Dad looked at Mom and then at me. “The police found Chris at Brian’s apartment…and they found everything that he’d stolen there as well. All of it. They had to arrest Brian, too.”

  “Arrest Brian?” Mom said.

  “Yes…my own son. Stealing from me. I failed him even worse than I’d thought.”

  “No, we did,” Mom rasped. “The two of us.” She got up and left the room. Dad pushed back his chair and followed her down the hall. Even though we’d hardly eaten, none of us was hungry. I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. I put our leftovers in some of Mom’s Tupperware and went to my room.

  Being mad kills your appetite, and I was mad. Mad that Dad hadn’t told us this when it had happened, and mad at my brother. His problems weren’t my fault or my parents’. Brian was to blame for being a loser. He’d made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. I didn’t care anymore. I was mad that I’d ever cared. I cranked my music and plopped down on my bed. I grabbed Sports Illustrated off my nightstand and flipped through the pages. I tried reading a few articles, but I couldn’t concentrate. I threw the magazine across my room and rolled over on my side. I stared at my speakers and headphones, and I thought back to that day at Best Buy and the look on Brian’s face after Chris had stolen the video games. The police were wrong. I knew what I had to do.

  * * *

  —

  I was up way early, before Mom or Dad. I’d barely even slept. And by the looks of Dad when he came into the kitchen, I knew the same was true for him.

  “Trevor? What’re you doing awake?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” I said.

  “Me neither. Your mother is zonked out, though, thank goodness. Want some coffee?”

  I grimaced. “Okay,” I said. I wasn’t a coffee drinker, but maybe Dad thought I could use some. Or maybe he wanted my company?

  He filled two mugs and took a seat across from me at the kitchen table. He passed me the cream and sugar.

  I copied what he did. Then I swished the spoon around in my cup. “Dad?”

  He sipped his joe and looked at me. “Yeah.”

  “I’m up early because I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I figured,” he said. “You didn’t get the chance last night, and you should be able to ask questions.”

  “I don’t know about questions, but…I just think…don’t give up on Brian.”

  “Trevor, I know it’s hard to hear what your brother did, but the fact is that he stole from us—from his own family. He turned his back on us. He quit on us.”

  “No, he didn’t,” I said. “You don’t know what I know.”

  My father put his cup down and stared at me. “What don’t I know?” There was a sudden edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a few seconds before.

  “I should’ve told you this when it happened over the summer, but I was afraid. I didn’t want to make more trouble for Brian. I hoped things would get better on their own.”

  “What should you have told me?” He leaned forward.

  I took a sip of my coffee and started explaining. I told him about running into Chris at Best Buy and what he did to Mark and how Chris stole the video games. “When I looked for Chris out in the parking lot,” I said, “I saw Brian waiting for him in his car. The look on Brian’s face told me he had no idea what Chris was up to. And I don’t think he knew about Chris stealing from us, either. What I can’t figure out is why he’s still hanging with that loser. I think he needs help, Dad. And I bet he doesn’t know how to ask for it—like me last year.”

  Dad got up and walked over to the sink. I watched him standing there with his back to me, rinsing out his cup. I’d said way more than I’d expected. Once I’d gotten started, all the things I’d had bottled up inside came pouring out.

  “You still believe in your brother?”

  “I want to. People can change, Dad.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go and talk to him.”

  He put his cup in the sink and walked out of the kitchen.

  My very favorite Christmas movie is Elf. Mickey and I have tried and tried to burp like Buddy does after he drinks that two-liter bottle of soda, but my longest belch is only three seconds. We got Grandpa to try one time, and he made it to three, too, which was impressive for an old guy, but Mickey held our record. He made it four seconds once, but he pushed so hard, he left Hershey squirts in his underwear. Buddy’s burp goes on forever!

  Mom and Dad don’t mind Elf because it’s a funny movie. “Stupid funny,” Dad says. But their favorite is one called It’s a Wonderful Life. They watch it every Christmas Eve. I always thought that movie had to be dumb and boring because it’s so old that it’s in black and white, so I never watched it. But I decided to give it a try this time because I hadn’t been allowed to watch much television since getting hurt and I was ready to watch anything. Maybe Mom was right about all the proper rest she’d made me get, even though I didn’t like it, because something got the great-ideas part of my brain working again that night, like it used to.

  At the end of It’s a Wonderful Life the main character, George Bailey, gets a book from his guardian angel friend, and there’s an inscription that says, Remember no man is a failure who has friends. It’s George’s friends who come to his side when he needs help most.

  “We need to go over to Gavin’s house tomorrow,” I announced. “The whole family. Even Grandpa.”

  “But, Scott, tomorrow’s Christmas,” Mom said.

  “I know. We can go after opening presents so Mickey has a new toy to bring with him, but we need to go. My friend needs us rig
ht now, like George Bailey did.”

  Mom and Dad looked at each other and smiled.

  “Your brain might’ve gotten hurt,” Dad said, “but your heart is as big and strong as ever.”

  It was Christmas Eve. Mom was in the kitchen, throwing something together for dinner, when the doorbell rang. I ran to answer it. It was already dark outside, and our front light was blown, so I couldn’t see through the window. I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

  “Hey, Trevor.”

  I stood there, frozen, and not because of the cold.

  “Nice game against the Titans.”

  Still nothing from me. My brain had gone numb.

  “It’s freezing out here. What do you say you let me come in?”

  I stepped aside.

  “Who is it?” Mom called from the kitchen.

  When I didn’t answer, she poked her head around the corner to see for herself. Her dish towel fell to the ground.

  “Brian!” she cried out.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She hurried over and grabbed my brother in a huge hug. “You’re staying for dinner,” Mom said. She unzipped Brian’s coat and started pulling it off his shoulders. She wasn’t asking. This was more of an order. “It’s just about ready. Your father should be home soon. We’ll sit down and have a real family meal.”

  I didn’t know if Dad had had anything to do with this, but Mom had just gotten the thing she wanted most for Christmas.

  “Sounds terrific,” Brian said. “Let me help you.”