Six Little Secrets(2)

‘How’s your daughter?’ Zoe asked. Whenever she stayed late at school to complete her homework, Victor always made sure to check on her. He had a daughter around her age, but she went to a different school. Zoe thought that was a blessing. If she heard the trash-talk from the kids about her own dad, she would have wanted to go to a different school. Zoe guessed it had been Victor’s decision too.

‘She’s on her own a lot lately, working on some big project for school,’ he said.

‘I know how that is,’ Zoe said, indicating her backpack. She was well ahead on a lot of her projects for the remainder of the semester since she had a lot of time to herself.

Victor nodded and headed out of the room. ‘Have a good day, Zoe.’

‘You too.’ Zoe turned back to her breakfast.

She took one bite just as a voice, clear as day, appeared on the other side of the door. She nearly choked on the chunk of her Pop Tart. The voice was one that blathered on and on every day at school, and now it was in the one place Zoe thought she could have peace. It belonged to the one person who could ruin her day.

Zoe closed her eyes and wished the girl away. She sat up straighter and listened. She didn’t hear the voice again. Had she imagined it?

The double doors flew open, and Zoe jumped, her eyes springing open as her worst nightmare walked through the door.

Jackie King.

Cheerleader. One of the ones that volunteered to be thrown into the air to perform some crazy death-defying flips. Her record was three flips in a row. A fact she told anyone who was within earshot every chance she could.

‘This sucks. Sucks! Sucks!’ Jackie whined as she sashayed into the room. Her signature ponytail of tight, springy black curls bounced with each step. She’d exchanged her cheer uniform for an outfit that resembled the tight cropped long-sleeve shirt and skorts that she wore on a daily basis. As if they needed reminding of her ‘status’.

‘Get over yourself,’ said Q, the class troublemaker, sauntering in behind her.

Zoe tried hard not to roll her eyes at his bravado. He was the picture of a rebel with his shoulder-length greasy hair and leather jacket. She knew for a fact that his parents had enough money to buy him shampoo and he’d never ridden a motorcycle in his life. Zoe sat behind him in history. His hands were always impeccably clean.

Then came Cece.

How many other kids were coming to torture her today? If she knew, she would have skipped Saturday detention altogether this week. She glanced at the office where Mr. Curtis had his back to them. Why hadn’t Mr. Curtis prepared her for this? It would have been nice to receive a warning.

Cece straightened the hem of her fuzzy light blue sweater—which most likely cost more than Zoe’s entire wardrobe—while simultaneously typing on her phone with her free hand. Even for a Saturday, not a hair was out of place in her short pin-straight bob.

Teddy James stumbled into the room, balancing three textbooks in his hands. His backpack was bursting at the seams. Zoe had a feeling Teddy would roll into the auditorium in a wheelchair for his valedictorian speech if he kept up with lugging around his ridiculously heavy backpack. His brunette hair stuck out at all angles as if he’d rolled out of bed and into the library.

She squirmed a little in her seat as their eyes met for a brief moment. She was the first to turn away.

And the last was Holly Pickard. She’d arrived at PHHS several months ago. She didn’t waste any time getting to know everyone in Zoe’s class, mostly the boys. Zoe guessed it was the long blonde hair and big blue eyes that pulled the guys in. At least that was the starting point. Holly didn’t seem to have any trouble finding a place to sit in the cafeteria. She made more of an impact with Zoe’s classmates than Zoe did throughout all the years in school.

These were five kids Zoe never saw in the same room together unless it was a school assembly. And even then, they were in completely separate groups. Other than Q, none of them seemed the type to get into enough trouble to earn a detention. So why were they all there?

The others gave Zoe a once over as she did them, but no one greeted her. At least that part of their relationship hadn’t changed.

Less than a minute later, Mr. Curtis came into the room and glanced at Zoe. She wouldn’t get the privacy she wanted this Saturday. And that sucked, but it was better than revealing the real reason for being there.

Instead, she focused on the decorated box resting in her teacher’s hands.

What’s he doing with that? Zoe wondered.

‘Take your seats around the table,’ Mr. Curtis said, plopping the box in the middle of one of the long six-foot tables usually reserved for group projects.

Zoe got up from her seat at one of the smaller tables and shouldered her bag, sticking to the back of the group. She waited until everyone else took their seat before choosing the last empty one between Teddy and Holly.

Holly twirled a chunk of her blonde hair around her finger while staring at Mr. Curtis. The neon-pink fingernail polish was striking against the golden strands.

Teddy offered Zoe a small smile. It was the most interaction they had had in about a year. Zoe passed it off as just a circumstance of their current predicament.

Q turned his chair around before sitting.

‘Please sit the correct way, Quentin,’ Mr. Curtis said.

‘It’s Q,’ Q said, not moving from his seat. Q gave every teacher a hard time which he thought was hilarious but most of the time was disruptive and made class go by so much slower than necessary.