I'm a Stripper At An All Boys Boarding School? How Do I Keep This A Secret?

"What the hell?!?" Well that's what I tried to say, but that hand over my mouth made it come out more as a "Hmmmmf da ghell?!"

"Shhh! Stop talking! Their gonna hear you!"

"Damn it Rayden you scared the hell out of me!" I said, once he had taken his hand off my mouth. I dropped my head on the bed and faced the ceiling.

"Sorry." That's it?

"Why are you here, then?" I asked, closing my eyes. I let my irritation be visible in the sentence.

"I wanted to talk."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"About what?" Damn it. I knew he was playing stupid. He had to have talked to the boys before.

"The date." I said, but my voice sounded thin and weak.

"Oh. Well I don't want to talk about that either, then." He was on his side, his head propped up with one arm.

"Then what do you want?" I sat up and faced him. "I want to go to sleep." He sighed.

"You shouldn't keep secrets from us. We get worried."

"I'm sure you guys don't tell me everything. I don't feel like talking about it." The was a pause. I laid down on my side, facing away from him.

"My mom died when I was nine." He said after a few minutes. "She got cancer. My dad blames me for it and hes hated me ever since, so I moved out when I was thirteen." I froze.

"I went and lived with one of my older friends. He was a real street guy, and I had come from money. I got into drugs, and drinking, and underground fighting. Then a few years later, I watched one of my best friends die." I wanted to turn around and face him, but I was completely frozen.

"So I cleaned up my act. Checked into rehab, stopped the fighting. It took me a year. Apparently, my dad had been telling people I went to live with my grandparents-He didn't want to have a son who would ruin his reputation. So one day he calls me up, and asks to meet me. We meet at some small cafe, and he tells me I'm going to boarding school. I'm going to become some successful lawyer and move into some big house in California. And I get no say whatsoever." He stopped then, and I listened to his breathing for a few minutes.

"I never met my mom." I blurted out. What was I saying? "She left as soon as I was born. My dad had to work three jobs to take care of us." I stopped. I didn't want to say too much. I reminded myself about the promise.

"When I turned fourteen I got a job, so my Dad could quit one. He worked too hard, and I never got to see him because he would come home and sleep-just sleep, for hours and hours-So I told him to quit one, and he did." I wanted to know what Rayden's face looked like, but I was too chicken to turn around.

"And I guess he stopped sleeping all day, cause one day I came home and he was drunk. Out of his mind. It was like that for the next couple days. I would go to school and work and come home to find him drunk, and he would pass out on the couch. And then he found pot. He went into this whole rage one day, saying how it was so unfair that some people are just born with all this money, and others have to work so hard for it. And I told him I would get another job. And I did. I was balancing school and two jobs, and my dad got laid off for not showing up for work. And now he works one job. Three days a week. And he doesn't want to be like this, I think. But when he's like this, at least he doesn't have to care." Doesn't care that his daughter is letting men pay money to see her body.

I turned around to face him then. His face was sad and forgiving, his green eyes looked alone. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. He didn't touch me. At all.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, pulling back from the hug. He looked down.

"No. I just . . . I just didn't want to-I mean I didn't know." He looked up at me. "If he . . . touched you, I mean." He wiped a piece of hair out of my eye.

"Oh." I said. I had forgotten about that. "I'm fine." I hugged him again, and he hugged me back this time. When I let go, he held me there to his chest. I laid my head on his shoulder.

"You should tell us. Not now, I mean. But you saw how worried Fin is. His heads exploding."

"I know. I'm just not sure if I want to talk about it yet." He nodded.

"When ever your ready, Darcy." I sighed.

"He took me to the beach." Rayden said nothing, so I continued. "And he counted down the sunset, and it was very cliche."

"And you kissed when he got to one?"

"How did you know?" I took my head off his shoulder so I could look at him. He shrugged.

"I've seen enough movies." He repositioned me so I was laying on his chest, and we were facing the ceiling. "So then what?" His voice was quiet.

"I was being stupid. I wasn't thinking."

"Did he touch you?!" His voice was loud, and I wondered if the other guys could hear him. "Sorry." He said.

"Well . . . Yeah."

"So what did you do?"

"I slapped him. After, I told him to stop, I mean."

"And he slapped you back." He said grimly. I turned my head to look at him again. "There's a red mark across your cheek."

"Oh."

"Did you walk all the way home?" I nodded. "Your feet must hurt." I shrugged.

"They would have been ok if I didn't go for a run this morning." He sighed and played with my hair.

"Yeah well, If you didn't go for a run this morning, none of this would have happened. Does your cheek hurt?" I moved it a little.

"A little." He stood up suddenly and left the room. Two minutes later, he came back with ice wrapped in a towel. "You didn't have to do that." I said, laying it on my cheek.

"I wanted to. That's what friends do." He brushed my hair out of my face. "Get some sleep." He said, and climbed into his bed.

"Goodnight Darcy."

"Goodnight Rayden."