The Last Secret You'll Ever Keep by Laurie Stolarz (summer reads txt) 📕

to my mouth, before he looks away and takes a step back. “So, what do you say?” he asks. “Shall we get out of here?”

I nod, knowing it’s the right thing to do, but not quite ready to let the moment go. As we exit the park, there are things I want to tell him—like that one day, maybe, I will trust again and that possibly, yes, I’d like to open up. But instead I picture the self-portrait in my room with its soot-stained face and wax-sealed lips.

And I hear my father calling my name from outside my bedroom door.

And I think of my last stint in the hospital, when Dr. Mary told me, emphatically—with no room for argument—that what happened in the well was a story my mind created.

And I burn a little crisper.

And I feel a little lonelier.

And I remain as silent as snow.

NOW

34

It’s quiet between Garret and me on the ride home. His fingers are tense on the wheel, like a cat hanging on to a ledge.

I gaze out the window, rubbing the sleeve of his sweatshirt against my cheek. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out back there.”

“Are you kidding? You didn’t freak me out.”

“So, you didn’t mind nearly getting arrested in front of a bunch of homeschoolers?”

“Nearly, not really.” He winks.

“You’re crazy.”

“Isn’t that precisely what you called yourself?”

“It is.”

“So, it would seem we have something in common.” He turns onto my street and pulls up in front of my aunt’s house. “Let’s do this again sometime, shall we?”

“Harassing schoolteachers?”

“Unless you’d rather we target some other selfless member of our community, like one of the nurses at the public health clinic, maybe? Or a volunteer at the Red Cross?”

I let out a laugh—the first one in I can’t even remember when. I look back at the house, not really wanting to go in. “Thank you for everything.” I start to hand him back his sweatshirt.

“Keep it,” he says, pushing it toward me. “At least until the chill wears off. Also, before you leave, I want to give you my number. Just in case of anything. You can feel free to contact me if and when you ever need to. And don’t feel like you have to give me your number too; I’ll just give you mine—not that I don’t want your number, that is. I mean, you can give it to me if you want.” He flashes a sheepish grin.

I open up the address book on my phone. Garret tells me his number. I save the contact, then press to dial it. Garret’s phone buzzes with the call.

“Now you have my number too,” I tell him.

“Hopefully, that’s not something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret it.” My face reheats. I cover it with the sweatshirt, pressing the sleeve against my mouth, noticing for the first time how much it smells like him—a mix of tangerine and musk. “Thanks again.”

“No problem at all. I’m really glad I ran into you today.”

I start to exit the truck, knowing full well what I’m leaving behind: a taste of what life felt like before I was taken. The last thing I want is to leave it again. But I tell him goodbye anyway.

NOW

35

In my room, I log on to Jane and check the chat feed for Peyton’s name, but she isn’t on, once again, leaving a sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach.

JA Admin: Welcome, NightTerra. Remember the rules: no judgments, no swearing, no inappropriate remarks. This is a safe space for honesty and support.

TulipPrincess: She thinks it’s ok, that this is what’s normal.

Cobra-head43: Did you meet him yet?

TulipPrincess: Unfortunately. She brought him home last night. She was all flirty with him too, touching his shoulder and giggling about stupid stuff. It made me want to yack.

NightTerra: What did I miss?

TulipPrincess: My mother found herself a new leech (boyfriend). They met at her support group, even though hooking up with fellow victims is supposedly against the rules.

Cobra-head43: Maybe he’ll be different.

TulipPrincess: And maybe I’ll shit roses. They’re always the same. Trust me. He’s just a newer, shinier version of the same old asshole.

JA Admin: Remember the rules. No swearing, please.

TulipPrincess: Oops, sorry.

TulipPrincess: Am I the only one who constantly breaks this rule? Lol!

TulipPrincess: Anyway, the leech kept telling me how lucky I am, that my mother is such a warrior woman, fighting for me.

TulipPrincess: If I wanted everyone to know my business, I’d wear a T-shirt to announce it.

Cobra-head43: I guess that makes sense, though, right? That he knows stuff, I mean. Since they met at a support group …

TulipPrincess: I feel like it should be my story to tell, not hers—and especially not as a way to pick up guys. Seriously, she can’t handle being single for more than five minutes. T-minus 52 days until I’m legal and can move out. #buh-bye

NightTerra: I’m so sorry.

TulipPrincess: And I’m so done. Can we talk about something else now? I’m kind of over my shitty drama. I want to hear about someone else’s. Lol.

Cobra-head43: Not exactly dramatic, but def shitty … I haven’t slept in three days.

NightTerra: Has Paylee22 been on here today?

NightTerra: Sorry, Cobra-head43. We must’ve typed at the same time.

JA Admin: One more time, watch the language, please. No swearing.

TulipPrincess: Not that I’ve seen so far.

Cobra-head43: NightTerra, Np.

Cobra-head43: JA Admin, Sorry for swearing.:(

TulipPrincess: Me too. #pottymouth #multipleoffenser

Cobra-head43: Paylee was on yesterday, I think.

Cobra-head43: She seemed quiet, not her usual chatty self. I asked her what was up and she said she had a lot on her plate.

SugarRush911: Who on here doesn’t?!?

Cobra-head43: Right, but she didn’t really want to talk about it.

SugarRush911: Then why come on a chat site?

NightTerra: What time was that?

Cobra-head43: Late, like 2AM, my time. West Coast.

Cobra-head43: What time is that for Paylee?

NightTerra: Five maybe. This morning.???

TulipPrincess: She was probably looking for you, NightTerra. You guys are always disappearing from the “public” chat to go into private chat rooms.

Cobra-head43: Actually, now that you mention it, I kind of remember her asking about NightTerra.

TulipPrincess: She’ll probably be on