The Secrets We Keep Read online

  For Jack Livesley,

  who always loves a mystery

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  1

  Our principal steps up to the mic and taps it. The sound, like a gunshot, makes me jump. My heart is hammering so hard everyone in the auditorium must be able to hear. How many other kids in the crowd are feeling as freaked out as I am right now?

  “Sure glad I wasn’t there that night,” Aubrey says beside me.

  “Yeah, lucky you. My parents still don’t know I went.”

  I crane my neck, trying to figure out where Ellie is sitting. These days I try to avoid her as much as possible. But whenever she “needs” me, I have to be on call. I spot her one row back, sitting stiffly, hands clutching the armrest. When she catches my eye, she gives me a knowing smirk. I look away quickly.

  At the podium Mr. Sinclair clears his throat.

  “Thank you, students, for welcoming Ms. Stitski into our school. As you recall from last June, she and her family endured an unthinkable tragedy. She wishes to address the school today to express some of her ongoing concerns. I hope you’ll all listen with respect and be brave enough to step forward if you feel you can help her in any possible way. Ms. Stitski.”

  A tall, slim woman crosses the stage to the microphone. She’s dressed like a Banana Republic model, in a taupe jacket with rolled-up cuffs and black slacks. Her dark, cropped hair has a flash of grey along one side. She’s a pretty lady, Kit’s mom, but there’s something else there, too. A shadowy veil seems to cover her features, concealing who she was before all this happened at the start of the summer.

  She stands and stares out for a moment, the auditor-ium crammed with students from grades nine to twelve. I know from my experience in theatre arts that she can’t see much; the bright stage lights are practically blinding. But she might as well be looking straight into my eyes. And reading my mind.

  “I’m glad you could all be here today, and I thank Mr. Sinclair for permitting me to speak to you.” A dramatic pause. She’s obviously good at this. “I’m sure you all remember my son Kristopher, or Kit, as everyone called him, and the disturbing circumstances of his death.”

  Something twists in my gut as she says those words. I half-wish I could crawl under my seat to hide. Her voice is controlled, measured, as if she’s standing in front of a court room addressing judge and jury.

  “The coroner’s inquest deemed it ‘death by mis-adventure.’ That verdict has been haunting me ever since. Because I don’t agree. Something else happened that night. He did not wind up in the water by accident. I know that someone out there, one of the many who were at the quarry that night, knows more. Withholding that information could make you an accessory to a crime. It’s in your best interest to step forward, and tell the police what you know to help all of us, especially Kit’s brother and me, find some closure once and for all.”

  “God,” Aubrey whispers. “She almost looks like she’s about to cry, doesn’t she, Clem?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” I say, blinking back tears and clenching my fists.

  “I’m trusting someone will do the right thing, to help the rest of us heal.” Ms. Stitski’s neck tendons are standing out now. Her face has become a tight mask. “So many of you loved Kit, I’m sure, but a few of you were responsible for being cruel to him in the past. Teasing, bullying, call it what you want. But trust me, I know who you are. If you had anything to do with this …” she almost chokes on her words, “then step forward. And clear your conscience once and for all.”

  With that, Ms. Stitski abruptly spins and walks off the stage into the wings.

  Instantly, the room fills with the buzz of a thousand bees. Mr. Sinclair hurries to the mic.

  “Do your talking once you’re outside. It’s only ten minutes before last bell, but you’re all dismissed for the day. Please leave in an orderly manner, and enjoy your weekend.”

  “She’s talking about Spencer, isn’t she?” Aubrey says, trailing me up the aisle to the exit. “I’ve heard stories. Kids are saying there was some sort of fight between him and Kit that night. Remember how he always gave Kit a hard time in middle school?”

  Kids are saying. The thought is like a laser beam burning a hole in my brain. Who is saying? Who knows what?

  Who’d believe anything — everyone.

  “Yeah, but that was then and this is now,” I tell her. “A lot has changed since then. And anyway, who knows what really happened that night? Maybe we’ll never know for sure.”

  I can only hope.

  Ms. Stitski is a lawyer at a local law firm. She knows how to dig out the truth, and she’s on a mission.

  The thought of what she might be able to find out leaves me almost breathless. Especially with Ellie keeping my secret.

  And never letting me forget it.

  “Pizza’s here, Clementine,” Mom calls from the kitchen that evening.

  I’ve been hiding out in my room since I got home from school. Told my folks I was exhausted from a busy week. That’s a bit of a stretch. I’m actually exhausted from a busy mind — one that won’t allow me to think straight or concentrate on important things, like school work and theatre arts. Oh, and getting Jake Harcourt to notice me.

  The way things are going, this is the new normal. Because guilt will not stop gnawing at me like a hungry rat. After this long, I almost had myself convinced that I was in the clear, that it was almost over. As if. But seeing Ms Stitski today made me realize that it will never end.

  I force myself to walk to the kitchen and look happy about an order-in pizza.

  “It’s your favourite kind, honey,” Mom says when I peek under the lid. “Lots of veggies and no anchovies.”

  “Thanks,” I say. But the smell turns my stomach.

  I take one piece and sit at the table. Zach’s inhaling multiple slices in front of the TV screen, playing a video game. So I’m stuck alone with Mom and Dad, and no kid-brother buffer to distract them. Not that it’s really necessary. Mom’s watching a video on her iPhone and laughing; Dad’s reading something on his tablet and frowning.

  I nibble my pizza slice and chew quietly, half-hoping they won’t feel obligated to question me about my day the way a lot of parents would. But also half-hoping they might.

  What I definitely need most right now is a friendly ear. I need someone to talk to, to help me figure stuff out about Ellie and every awful thing that’s been going on between us. That used to be Mom — I used to be able to tell her anything. But this time, I’m too ashamed, too afraid of what she’ll think of me. Plus she never seems to have much time to listen to me anymore.

  Come to think of it, neither does Dad. They’re almost always lost in their own virtual worlds — when they aren’t stressing out about work, being super-busy teachers.

  They’re no worse than Zach and me, though. A family of techno-geeks who seem to rarely share actual face time. I’ve spent the last four months in misery, wallowing in my guilt, and they haven’t even looked up f
rom their screens long enough to notice. Might as well talk to the wall most of the time.

  Because for sure the wall would make a better listener than my parents.

  What time is it, Clementine?

  I wake up from the nightmare hearing his voice. I’m gasping for air and fighting with my covers as though I’m trying to break free. As though it’s happening to me instead of him.

  Nearly four months later, the awfulness still feels as fresh as if it just took place yesterday.

  And I’m getting close to totally losing my mind.

  I fumble for my phone on my bedside table and turn it on to check the time. It’s 3:30 a.m., and there’s a text message waiting for me. It’s the middle of the night for god’s sake. And then another message. Three missed calls. All from Ellie. An icy flash of fear washes through me.

  Txt me as soon as you get this. She sent it at 2 a.m., when I was deep in nightmare land. The phone calls came right after.

  This is not a good thing. Ellie insists that I leave my phone on all night in case she needs me. But tonight, before bed, I turned it off. I think I just wanted to stand up for myself for a change. Seemed like a good idea at 10 p.m., but now, in the wee hours, my decision is turning my stomach sour. Ellie will not be happy about this.

  Sup? I text back. But I’m afraid to press send. I’m afraid of what might be up with her. I hate these middle-of-the-night surprises because I’m never sure what this girl, my so-called bestie, might have in store for me next.

  Can I be bold enough to just shut off my phone and ignore the whole thing? Do I have the guts to do that, to come up with some lame excuse like my battery died? But she’s already warned me about that. Said I should charge my phone every night, to be sure I don’t miss a single thing.

  I press send. I have to. I have no other choice.

  Where WERE u Clem?????? I’ve been totally freaking out!!!!!! Her instant reply.

  Why, El? What happened?

  I’m with Mac. Mom doesn’t know. Said I was going to ur place 2nite! U have to cover for me in the morning, k?

  Which means I have to lie. To my best friend’s mom. Because she lied to her first, and now I have to cover for her. This is the worst one yet.

  Where r u? Why don’t u just come here now?

  Can’t. Went for a long drive with Mac.

  So what can I do?

  If my mom calls tomorrow say I’m in the bathroom. Then text me, k?

  And? How will that help? She’ll just call your cell!!!!!

  No, I’m turning it off. So I won’t know if she called.

  WHY!!!!!!!!

  I just told u why!

  But that doesn’t make any sense.

  Just do it Clem ☺ thnx xoxo

  Smiley face. Like I ever feel like smiling when Ellie texts me these days. Like a smiley face makes everything okay.

  Oh & if she shows up tell her I just left k?

  WHAT!!!! Ur kidding right? If she shows up????

  But she doesn’t reply to that one. Just leaves me hanging as usual, stewing in my sweat, wondering if she’s serious.

  If her mom shows up in the morning, I’ll be toast. What will I tell her?

  Even though I’m getting better at lying, it still upsets me. But Ellie has it all figured out. She knows my parents leave early for the farmers’ market every Saturday morning, so if her mom comes looking for her, at least mine won’t answer the door.

  Now and then, when her eyes aren’t locked on her phone screen, Mom asks how Ellie’s doing, and wonders why she doesn’t come around anymore. I just explain that she’s “madly in love” right now. And anyway, in high school everyone’s way too busy to hang out all the time. Mostly, though, I keep my mouth shut and hold all the bad stuff inside. They don’t know SO much!

  On that awful night back in June, Ellie told her mom she was staying at my house, and I told my parents I was staying at hers. Then we rode our bikes over to the field party.

  Everything changed the moment Ellie ran into Mac and started acting like I didn’t exist. She’d had a mad crush on him ever since he was at our school, but back then he never even gave her a second glance. That night, though, he was all over her. I stuck around for a while, tried hard to have fun, but failed miserably. Finally I gave up, went home, and told my parents I’d been feeling sick at Ellie’s. I got in trouble for leaving her house in the night, which was what they thought I did, and biking home alone instead of calling for a ride.

  Ellie never even went home. After she met up with Mac that night, she tossed her bike in his trunk and drove around with him for hours. She’s been driving around in that car ever since.

  Her mother would flip out if she knew that. But Ellie has me to cover for her. And I have to, because she owns me. As long as I keep her secrets, she’ll keep mine. Like the fact that I was at that party. And that I may have been the last person to see Kit alive. That maybe he’d still be alive if I’d done the right thing.

  Of course, Ellie’s not the only reason why I can’t let go of that night. Could I have saved Kit? It’s that question that chews away at my dreams and wakes me up in fits of twisted blankets and regret.

  Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more!”

  That line from Macbeth is an earworm that will not quit haunting me. Because it defines my current state of being. The voice is Kit’s. It’s like his ghost will not go away and leave me alone. And now that I know his mother’s still hunting for answers, my secrets are spooking me even more.

  2

  Saturday morning I’m so uptight that I have a hard time devouring my bowl of chocolate Cheerios the way I always do before pouring a second bowl. And Zach notices, of course.

  “What is up with you?” he says as he pours milk over his second helping. It’s our new favourite cereal because of how the white milk turns to chocolate in the bowl.

  “Nothing,” I snap back, a dead giveaway. Meanwhile I have one eye on my phone screen the whole time, hoping that it won’t light up.

  “You are so full of it,” he says. “Are you thinking about Jake again? Getting all nervous about the Sadie Hawkins dance? I bet anything you want to ask him.”

  Eeesh. How does he manage to bug me about stuff that’s going on in my life when he’s in eighth grade at middle school and I’m in high school? And why do I let it get to me? But ever since he overheard me blathering about Jake to Ellie on my phone last year, he’s been giving me a hard time. And it totally bugs my ass.

  “Maybe. And I’m not nervous about that at all,” I lie. It gets easier and easier, really.

  Everything about Jake makes me nervous. He’s both cool and hot, with wavy blond hair and a lean, cut body.

  Sometimes when he’s near me, my tummy starts doing an “upside-down on a rollercoaster” thing that I try to ignore. Besides, I’d never stand a chance. The coolest girls in grade ten, and probably other grades too, practically drool on their designer running shoes whenever he’s around. I’m sure at least one of them has already asked him out.

  Back in middle school nobody really looked twice at Jake Harcourt — he was just the cute little skater dude, more interested in kick flips than girls, who were mostly way taller than him anyway. I was hung up on Jake even back then though. And I talked to him whenever I had the chance. I even pretended I was thinking of getting into skating, just so I could get closer to him. Then last year in grade nine, something suddenly changed. He had this crazy growth spurt, grew like an inch a month between September and June. Then he became a chick magnet. And everyone noticed, including me.

  Back then, when some of us formed a Circle of Friends group in support of Kit, Jake was one of the first to sign up. Which attracted me to him even more. He had this kind disposition, and good nature. This willingness to be there whenever he could. He was so eager to help out Kit, he would even let him mess with his skateboard. Kit usually
just fell over and laughed about it along with the rest of us. And it made me appreciate Jake even more.

  I’ve noticed some other changes in Jake now, especially since the end of the school year. He’s been hanging out with different kids, and rumours about him on social media are bouncing around like hailstones. Especially when it comes to girls. I heard that he hooked up with three different ones this summer, just jumped from one to the next. But somehow, judging from those rumours, and from Jake’s weird behaviour, he always seemed even more pissed off than the broken-hearted girls he dumped. That wasn’t the Jake I remember. The sweet kid I knew from middle school. I hope the good old Jake is hiding somewhere underneath his lame new attitude. Because I seriously do not know who this guy is anymore.

  And Zach is right. In spite of everything I’ve been hearing about Jake, I still want to invite him to the Sadie Hawkins, the only time of year when girls are “allowed” to invite guys to a dance. Geeky, artsy girls that are like me, anyway. Girls who might never get invited to a dance otherwise; girls who are no competition for the other cooler ones. But I doubt I’m up to asking him. I just don’t have the guts.

  When someone knocks on the front door, I completely forget about Jake. My spoon drops onto the table, and I nearly choke on a mouthful of cereal.

  “You getting that or should I?” Zach says.

  “Um… um …” I say, then swallow hard.

  “Too slow,” Zach says, then jumps up to answer.

  I catapult out of my chair. “Wait! Hold it! If it’s Ellie’s mom, tell her we’ve both gone out somewhere!”

  “What?” He stares at me and raises one brow. “It’s like nine in the morning! Where would you have gone? And where’s Ellie anyway?”

  “Can you just do it?” I plead, but he shakes his head.

  “Nope. Don’t drag me into this. You do it yourself.”

  My legs are melting candle wax as I shuffle toward the door. How will I ever pull this off without giving myself away? Deep breath, phony smile, reach for the doorknob.