The Bad Boy's Secret Read online

“Thanks,” she followed the boys into the living room, where they flopped in various states of relax. She tucked her leg under her, and positioned herself on the couch, as close to Chuck as she could, stretching her other leg out in front of her. “Gash, muscle cramps. It’s what happens when you don’t work out anymore.”

  “You lift?” Shawn gave her scrawny arms a look.

  “Sas is a skater,” Chuck said, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Real good one at that. Almost went to the Olympics.”

  “So what happened?”

  Cassiopeia looked away, not wanting to answer the question. These days, she felt like if she pretended it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be real.

  “Do you lift?” she asked Shawn, to change the topic and he flexed.

  “Probably more than you weigh.”

  “I’ve put on so much weight since I stopped skating,” she said, pulling a pillow over her stomach. “Haven’t I, Chuck?”

  “Um, no?” Chuck gave her a funny look. “You’re still as skinny as a rail, kid.” He pinched her arm, which yielded almost no fat. “Skinnier, maybe.”

  “Huh,” she muttered, shaking her head. She pulled the pillow closer to her stomach, and looked to Peter, who was spread out on the floor, reading. “Is that for class?”

  “Kind of,” he looked up. “It’s optional, but I think it’s good.”

  “Peter’s a wannabe upper classer,” Shawn laughed, and the boys swatted at each other.

  “The class thing is really big here, eh?” Cassie said to Chuck, who was yanking playfully at her hair. There was no romance between them, that much was clear. But there was some sort of unspoken friendship, a bond that not many could share.

  “Yeah. And I don’t want you hanging around in public with any of us scum, you hear me? You stay straight and you’ll be fine.”

  “Chuck!” she looked at him, horrified. “What are you talking about?”

  “Around here, it’s fine. But not anywhere where you can be seen.”

  “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” she teased him and he gave her hair a yank.

  “No,” he replied. “But you should be embarrassed to be seen with us. The boys, they are good boys, Sas, but their reputation is not what you want. Just by being around them, you invite all kinds of scum types. They’ll think that you are something you’re not. Trust me on this.”

  “Mmm,” she didn’t want to commit to answering because the answer felt wrong. If they were good enough for Chuck, they would good enough for her. But she let the topic drop as they were called for dinner.

  “So did you leave a boyfriend behind in New York?” Steve asked, once they sat at the table. Chuck launched a fry at him.

  “No, she didn’t, Trash, and if you try to change that, I’ll make sure you wish you’d never been born.”

  “Aye-yi-yi,” Cassie put in. “Are we always this rough around the table?”

  “This is tame,” Richard replied, taking a mouthful of chicken and ducking another fry torpedo. “You should see it some nights.”

  She watched the laughter and the teasing happening in front of her, a smile on her face.

  “I think I’d like to,” she replied and Richard chuckled.

  “Well, you’re welcome to, any time. You’ll be the first of Chuck’s friends who doesn’t throw fries.”

  “I can,” she replied, cutting up her food into tiny pieces, each move seeming thought out. “But I’ll save that for when you least expect it.”

  Richard laughed, shaking his head, and ducking another fry. She seemed like a good kid, a little timid, and fragile, but then, perhaps he would be to if he had a career end at 15, and his life change forever. The death of their parents did a number on the boys that would never be forgotten.

  Throughout dinner though, she grew quieter, and she didn’t touch most of her plate. When he cleared it, he questioned her about it.

  “Oh, it was really good,” she replied. “Thank you so much. It’s just that I ate before I left school. Habit. Usually I go to the rink right after, so that’s when I …eat.”

  “Will you be skating here?” he asked. “We don’t got much, but there’s a rink down at the Y that anybody could use.”

  “No,” she answered, a bit too quickly. “No, I won’t be skating here. Or anywhere, actually. That’s all over now.”

  She looked so bothered that Richard wondered if he had said something wrong. Luckily, he was saved by Chuck, standing and heading for the front door.

  “Come on, kid, it’s past your bedtime,” he said, and she gratefully rose.

  “Thank you so much, for dinner.”

  “My pleasure little darling. Come back soon.”

  “Yeah, come back anytime!” Shawn hollered, already in the living room to play video games with Steve. “Chuck, you are coming back, right?”

  “Be right back,” Chuck called. “I ain’t missing that party for the whole world.”

  Once outside, on the front porch, with only the sound of crickets and dogs barking, he turned to her.

  “What happened?”

  “Hmm?” she asked, doing up her own jacket.

  “You heard me. Nothing’s changed that much that I didn’t see the look on your face when Richard asked you about skating. It was your whole world. So what happened?”

  “Scott died, Chuck,” she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets as they waited for the cab that Richard called from inside. “You know that.”

  “I know that,” he replied. “But I ain’t stupid, kid. The press wouldn’t say nothing more than he died, on the ice, and then all of a sudden, you were gone. Just disappeared, like a ghost. So what am I supposed to think, exactly, because something smells fishy.”

  She took a deep breath, hoping to keep the tears from falling, but it didn’t help. Within minutes, they were streaming down her face, hot against the cold wind, and she was gasping for air, paralyzed by her own grief and the moment playing in her mind, over and over again.

  Chuck grabbed her, alarmed. Cassie was strong, getting up after every fall on the ice. She had skated through a broken toe and a broken wrist, and a concussion, throwing up backstage after. She never gave up for the final leap, never stayed in bed when she should be on the rink. He had never met such a stronger, more determined spirit, especially not in such a tiny body.

  He held her tight, squeezing warmth into her shuddering body and trying to think of the right words to say.

  “Baby, Baby, I’m sorry. What did I say? I’m sorry. Don’t cry, kid. Geez, don’t cry.”

  She couldn’t even talk, so deep was her grief and her fear, and he didn’t push it. Whatever had happened, she wasn’t ready to tell him. And although he was burning with curiosity, he wasn’t going to bring it up until she was ready. Cassie was his kid, a responsibility in a world that told him he could do no good, a second childhood when his own was gone so quickly. With only an older brother who he hadn’t seen in months, Chuck had raised himself, and tried his best to make up for her ever—absent parents.

  By the time the cab came, she had managed to calm down enough to head towards it.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, as she wiped her eyes, trying to speak without breaking down.

  “No, it’s ok. You have a thing to go to.”

  “It’s just a party, Sas, I can go anytime.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” her voice sounded more steady now, the strong Cassie that he knew re-emerging. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” And then she smiled. “That sounds so awesome.”

  He grinned.

  “It’ll actually be after school, Sas. By the time the bell goes, I’ll probably still be drunk from tonight.”

  “Ok,” she rolled her eyes. “See you tomorrow, Chuck.”

  “Bye,” he closed the door and waited until the cab was on the street
before heading back into the house. As soon as he was in, Steve called to him.

  “That is one fine broad you got, Chuck!”

  “She ain’t mine, and she ain’t no broad,” Chuck snapped at him, heading into the living room. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

  “No, she looks like an upper classer, don’t she?” Shawn turned around from the video game he was losing anyways. “We could use someone like her?”

  “What are you babbling about?” Chuck sank into the couch.

  “I’m just saying. She looks like one, she talks like one, but she clearly loves the shit out of you. Why not let her be a spy? No one will know. Let her hang around them, and come back and feed us everything. Where they are going, what they are doing. I’m sure it’ll put us ahead in at least three rumbles, maybe more.”

  Chuck sighed, accepting the second beer Richard brought him.

  “I dunno, man. She’s been through some shit. I don’t want to put any pressure on her.”

  “We’ve all been through some shit,” Peter put in and Chuck couldn’t disagree with that.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to her about it. I don’t want her seen with trash like you anyways.”

  “I’ll show you trash,” Steve reached around to charlie horse him and Chuck yelped, kicking him. “Let’s go, I want to cause some trouble before we hit that party.”

  “Yeah, why not,” Chuck pushed himself onto his feet again, and Shawn got up as well. Peter made a move and Richard raised an eyebrow.

  “Where do you think you’re going kid? Sit yourself down. Kevin’s place ain’t somewhere you’ll be tonight.”

  “Ah, but Richard…”

  “Hey, listen to the old man,” Chuck said, in a move very much unlike him. Normally, he was encouraging Peter to join in the mischief. Richard appreciated the gesture, and gave Chuck a nod. “You coming, old man?”

  “Nope,” Richard replied. “I’m pooped. I’ve got a date with the television and then my pillow. Some of us have work in the morning.”

  “Slave,” Chuck replied, putting his jacket back on. “Alright, boys, have fun being boring. I’ll see you around.”

  “And I’ll leave the key under the mat,” Richard said, knowing how the night would likely end. The boys hooted their appreciation and were soon out the door, ready to cause trouble in the neighborhood and party until dawn.

  He had been looking forward to this party for weeks, and he felt extra happy tonight. He was at a great party, surrounded by friends, and Sas was back in town. Life was awesome.

  Chapter 3

  “And using this formula, the answer is…”

  “46,” Cassie called out, her eyes rapidly going over the board.

  “Correct,” the teacher said, and scribbled in the answer as the bell rang. “Alright, that’s it for now. Do Chapter 3 tonight and we’ll pick up again tomorrow. See you guys!”

  She gathered up her books and reached into her bag, to check her phone. Per usual, as of late, there were about 60 text messages from the boys, ranging from I’m bored to you look like an upper classer. It was the usual banter of the gang, who seemed to be adopting her just fine, as long as it was outside of the public eye.

  “Are you texting your boyfriend?”

  She looked up with a start to find Dave standing there. Dave was the cutest junior in school, decided by most of the female population. Cassie hadn’t had much interaction with any of the juniors since jumping a grade up, her New York transcripts proving that she had the capability to handle 11th grade work. But she had, just like any girl in the class, spent a lot of time staring at Dave’s toned body and high cheek bones.

  “Oh, I don’t have a …boyfriend,” she blushed, putting her phone away. “I’m just texting friends.”

  “Now, I can’t believe that a pretty thing like you doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Dave said, and she blushed. She knew it was a pickup line, but she couldn’t bring herself to role her eyes.

  “Well, I don’t,” she stood, gathering her books. She had offered to order pizza if the boys agreed to watch a movie with her tonight, and no one was objecting.

  Cassie was already feeling the divide between them, although she tried not to show it. They never asked her for money, but she always offered it, since they couldn’t exactly go out and find their own fun. She had reluctantly agreed to be a spy only because she didn’t know what her place in this new town was to begin with. Tonight, she was going to order at least five pizza pies with the weekly allowance that had never stopped coming directly into her account. When she skated, her parents set up a direct deposit of one hundred dollars a week to pay for anything she needed, too busy to take her to buy new outfits or get her skates sharpened. Now, it was burning a hole in her pocket.

  “Good,” Dave said, with a grin. “Then no one will object if I ask you to the movies on Friday.”

  “Oh,” that startled her, but it made her smile. “No, they won’t.”

  “Good. Message me your number on Facebook and it’s a date,” he grinned at her and then shouldered his own bag, sauntering out like he was on top of the word. Cassie blushed, zipping up her back pack and heading out into the sunshine. A date! She had a date!

  She had never been on a date in her whole life. There were always official skating engagements with Scott, him in a tux and her in a ball gown, accepting an award and eating a fancy dinner, but that wasn’t a real date.

  Those were just part of her life as a skater, which was over.

  She felt the familiar sharpness of grief in her chest as she walked to the parking lot, the familiar pressing against her heart. Her legs trembled and she almost fell, had it not been for a railing on the outer stairway. She paused, wiping the tears from her eyes and trying to clear the toxin in her head.

  Just keeping walking, she told herself. Just keep walking.

  By the Dave she reached the road, she felt a little bit better. Chuck was strict on the rules about being seen with them, and so she always had to walk half a mile around the corner, where whoever had driven that day would pick her up.

  Being a spy had proved useful twice already, although she hardly cared for the consequences. She had found out where a big party was, that Chuck went to cause trouble at just last week. At first, she protested that it was cruel, until Chuck sat her down and listed all the things the upper classes had done to their own little gang, forget the rest of the world. It was a war, she saw, between the two, and she hardly thought the way the lower class boys suffered was fair.

  But Dave, Dave was different. He didn’t go to rumbles or to parties, and his name had never come up on Chuck’s hate list. He volunteered at the soup kitchen and got good grades, and he went to visit his grandparents in their retirement home twice a week. Dave was different and the thought of him made her smile as she rounded the corner.

  “Hey, Snob, you want a ride?” Steve called, sticking his head out the window and teasing her. She forced a smile, and slid into the back sheet.

  “You know, if this is all supposed to be a secret, maybe you should not yell so the whole neighborhood can hear you.”

  “No one around but the grass,” Peter pointed out and she had to agree. They were in a sleepy neighborhood, full of old money and crumbling brick houses. The houses were large and sprawling, and the boys looked at them with awe as Steve drove past. Cassie didn’t look up, having seen houses like that all her life. She was too engrossed in messaging Dave on face book, triple checking her number before hitting send. When it was completed, she leaned against Peter, closing her eyes.

  “What’s up?” he asked, not used to the affection and she shrugged.

  “Nothing. Tired. Long day.”

  “I’ll say,” Shawn put in from the front seat. “I have a countdown for how many hours until I get out of that joint.”

  “Hours?” Cassie asked. “Days?”

  “Down t
o the second. I can’t wait to be free! When you skated, you were home schooled, right?” he asked, turning around. “That must be awesome. Algebra would be better from my bed.”

  “Uhhuh,” she said, biting her lip. She didn’t want to think about skating at all, and the boys never seem to get that. They thought it was the coolest thing in the world that they could Google her. But if there was one day she wanted to forget about it, it was today.

  By the time they got to the Criter house, the topic had changed several times, and she was glad of it. When the pizza arrived, there was no more talking, and only the sound of chewing mouths as they popped in the movie they had rented.

  Cassie glanced at the pizza before choosing a small piece of cheese and curling up on the couch beside Chuck.

  “Remember Papa Pizza in New York?” Chuck asked her, already on his forth slice. “That was the best. Can you import it?”

  “Uh, I think it’ll be cold by then,” Cassie replied, blotting at the pizza grease with her napkin. She peeled a rogue piece of pepperoni off of it and handed it to Chuck, who ate it without a second thought.

  Her stomach was growling but she wasn’t hungry. For years, she had to remain light as a feather, the lifts that she and Scott did often giving them extra points that led to their victory. The thought of the amount of calories in pizza made bile rise in her throat, and so she cast her eyes to the TV screen instead.

  “This is the best part,” Steve said, at her feet, as Richard came in, with a proper plate. “Richard, you’re missing it.”

  “I’m right here, quit your yammering,” Richard shoved Steve out of the way so that he could sit on the other end of the couch, Cassie in the middle. There was something comforting about the two of them, sandwiching her between their arms, deep rumbling voices talking low over her head. Peter turned out the lights and the boys were completely engrossed in the cop drama.

  Cassie had just placed her uneaten slice on the table and was about to put her feet up when the scene changed. The lights in the scene dimmed as the lead cop was grabbed from behind. It was hard to tell what was happening, but there were screams, a flash of a gun, a crack, and then the enemy in a pool of blood.