The Truth About Keeping Secrets(24)

‘That’s not true.’

‘For real. Three to five, Whitaker. Also, we’re here.’ She was right. We’d made it. In one piece.

The morning hustle and bustle was in full force, the parking lot brimming with activity, school buses pulling up one after the other and releasing kids in swarms. June looked at me. ‘Not so bad, right?’

‘No.’

June pulled into her parking spot – all the seniors had designated spaces – and someone honked at us, which made me jump, embarrassingly. I realized who: Heath was in the car opposite, with someone else in the passenger seat: Greg Wilson. He was on the varsity swim team with Heath, as well as one of the privileged few always sort of flitting around Heath and June in hallways and sitting with them at tables. Heath smiled and waved, and June smiled and waved back, and I felt myself melting away.

‘Morning,’ June called once she’d left the car. I found myself feeling disappointed that our time had been cut short. Reality flooded back in; the lights were no longer blurry.

‘Hey!’ Heath and I made eye contact for what I realized was probably the first time ever. He had these big features that commanded attention, and perpetually smiling Gap-model coy boyishness that made him even more handsome; the sort of eyes that suggested he was in on a joke that you weren’t, but he’d probably tell you if you asked. Shoulders back. Jaw set. When he looked at you, it was like he was looking through you, into your guts and out the other side.

I had decided pre-emptively, and for little reason, that I should dislike him.

Greg followed behind. He was shorter than Heath, had stark blond hair that almost glowed in the low light.

June gestured to me while gathering her books from the back seat. ‘You guys know Sydney, right?’

This felt like a job interview. I flashed my best closed-mouth smile in the hope of offsetting my insecurity. ‘Hi.’

Greg looked at me for what seemed like half a second too long and gave a shy, non-committal wave, then said his own name as a suave sort of introduction; Heath leaned coolly against the door of his Audi and introduced himself too, even though I obviously already knew who he was. I appreciated the humility of it. ‘So you’re the stowaway,’ he said.

‘Aye,’ I said, before realizing that was a really bad opener, and when Heath’s smile grew wider I kicked myself internally and said, ‘uh, stowaway made me think of pirates.’

‘Well,’ Heath said, ‘yo-ho.’

June didn’t speak. Just eyed the three of us.

Heath still gave me his full attention. Another bus had just arrived, and I was glad for it; the thought of being seen with this group of people excited me in a way I couldn’t explain. ‘You know, I didn’t believe June when she said you were a junior.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

He had a hand flat against his shoulder. ‘You need to be at least this tall.’

Greg made a sort of oooh noise while June looked to Heath, an intensity in her eyes that I couldn’t place. ‘Don’t.’

‘It’s friendly banter!’

I needed some material. Quick. ‘I thought you were a senior –’ I nodded down to his pretty terrible leather brogues – ‘not a senior citizen.’

I cringed so hard I thought my eyeballs might squish out of my skull, but Greg did another oooh with more fervour, now, suggesting he was on my side. Heath grinned, lighting up his whole face. Looked at June. ‘See? Banter!’

‘Those are pretty bad,’ Greg said.

‘They’re Tom Ford, dude.’

June rolled her eyes. ‘OK, comedians. I’m going to homeroom, but I hope you all have, like, a wonderful day at clown college, or whatever.’

‘We’re coming, honey.’ Heath looked at me with his eyebrows raised, while Greg also just sort of looked at me, generally. ‘Man. I didn’t know she was like this with you too,’ Heath said teasingly. My belly skipped rope. We had a joke. There was something effortless about it all, and I felt a sudden sinking – was this what I’d been missing? Why didn’t talking to Olivia feel like this any more? I’d shut myself out for so long that I had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be included, to be seen, to be heard.

I didn’t want to like Heath. But I already did.

I hadn’t even opened my paper bag to start not-eating before Olivia was chewing me out at lunch, like we were fucking married, or something. ‘Where were you this morning?’ she asked. ‘Miles was late –’ she shot him a look – ‘so I had to sit there alone like a, like a quarantine patient.’

‘I told you I’d be late,’ Miles said.

Olivia shrugged. ‘I’m not placing blame,’ she said, despite placing blame. She looked back to me and raised her eyebrows. ‘So? Where were you? Your bike wasn’t in the rack either.’

I’d known this moment was coming. ‘Uh, someone gave me a ride.’

‘You can’t just say that like it’s a normal thing that happens. Who?’

‘June Copeland.’

Olivia froze, mid-peel of her packet of fruit snacks. ‘OK, you’re gonna have to explain that one.’

‘Explain what?’ I said. I knew full well what I had to explain.

‘You know June? That’s cool,’ Miles said, which was maybe the first time he had contributed anything to a discussion voluntarily since the beginning of the school year. Either way, I was kind of pleased with myself. Yeah, I did know June, and it was cool.