Keeping His Secret

Slade’s hand gently ran up and down my arm. I was curled against him—by force—in the dark as the lights flickered from the TV. My eyes were trained on the area just next to it. I wasn’t focusing on what show was on. I was thinking.

My thoughts were a hodgepodge of everything that had happened. I could barely remember the days before Slade had first texted me. In the past few days—no, the past few hours—my life had change so much.

Something felt almost… off though.

Questions nagged at the back of my mind, but my cowardly tongue refused to ask them. I figured that was for the best. I wasn’t comfortable with Slade as he was now, when he was giving me a choice as to whether I wanted to do something or not for the most part.

Anger brings out the worst in people.

The questions I had stored for him would definitely ignite the anger.

I yawned slightly, fidgeting against Slade.

He chuckled, tightening his grip, “Sleepy?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s only eight-thirty.”

“What can I say?” I whispered “My night’s been a little…interesting to say the least. Definitely different.”

Slade chuckled darkly, “Good. And there will definitely be more nights like that to come.”

A shiver ran through my body. I didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad thing. I didn’t dwell on the topic.

Slade seemed to think it was a good thing. He chuckled deviously, pulling me closer to him. If that was even possible, that is.

“You’re not going to sleep on me this early, are you?” He sounded upset.

I smiled guiltily, “Sorry.”

He groaned.

Gently, I moved my body to a more comfortable position, though I’d never tell Slade this. I stretched my legs out so that they hung off the arm rest of the couch. My head made its way onto Slade’s lap, staring straight up.

He looked down at me with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

I felt his gently fingers run through my hair. He turned the volume down on the television so that I could barely hear it. I closed my eyes, allowing the darkness to take me in.

I fell asleep on Slade’s lap.

~*~

“Daniel?” A soft voice whispered in my ear. I felt a hand rub down the side of my face, smooth nails brushing down.

I pried my eyes open slightly, lifting my head, “Mom?”

“Hey sweetie.” She whispered, smiling gently, “You fell asleep on the couch.”

“What time is it?” I sat up right, running a hand through my hair. The over head light was on, blinding me temporarily. I felt the blood rush sharply to my head. I took a moment to straighten myself out before I looked at my mom curiously.

“It’s eleven.”

“Wow.” I breathed. I stood up cautiously, taking a wobbly step forward. “Thanks. I’m going to head to bed.”

“Alright. Don’t forget you have school tomorrow. Set your alarm.”

“I always do.”

“Good night, Daniel.”

“Night Mom.”

I climbed the stairs slowly, taking my time. I was surprised Slade had left. I would’ve thought he’d have stayed the night. Guilt passed through me as I realized I didn’t say goodbye to him after everything he did for me.

I opened my bedroom door, half expecting Slade to be lounging on my bed, that infamous smirk across his lips.

Nothing.

I felt my heart sink in my chest at the sight.

Not bothering with the lights, I trudged over to my bed, falling face forward onto the soft pillows. I left my clothes on, exhaustion tumbling over me like a tidal wave.

Quickly, I fell right back to sleep.

~*~

Danny-

Had to leave. Your mother was going to return soon. Didn’t want to wake you. Don’t make plans tonight. Don’t make plans this weekend.

-Slade.

I read the words over and over again. Something about them made my heart beat speed up with every curve of the letters. It took me a few minutes to decipher what he had crossed out. My cheeks reddened when I realized what he was implying.

Would I even do it?

I had a feeling that if Slade asked me to, I would.

Setting the paper on my nightstand, I stood up, pulling my dirty shirt over my head. Quickly, I changed into fresh clothing, ditching the shower. I’d have to catch one before Slade arrived tonight. Though, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be opposed to me taking one anyways. He’d requested that he joined me…

I picked up the small piece of paper. He had written it down on one of the stick notes that my mother kept in the kitchen, placing it on my bedroom pillow. I had fallen asleep next to it the night before. It was mildly crumpled from my head rolling over top of it.

I tucked it in my back pocket.

I glanced at myself in the mirror before leaving my room, studying my appearance. Why did he choose me? I wasn’t attractive in the slightest. I was a scrawny boy with only one friend. I could barely manage a conversation without stuttering or embarrassing myself.

I pushed the sides of my hair down, trying to straighten out the bed-head look. While the jocks at school could pull it off, I simply couldn’t.

I hadn’t cared before.

Wetting down the edges, I was finally satisfied and left for the bus stop. I could only hope that my hair dried normally.

~*~

A hand reached into my back pocket, touching my ass. I jerked forward, turning around with wide eyes.

Sara held the crumpled piece of paper in her hands, smirking, “What’s this, Daniel? A little secret you’ve got?”

“Give it back Sara.” I hissed, reaching for it. She held it out of my reach, giggling to herself devilishly.

“Secrets, secrets are no fun.” She whispered, raising an eyebrow, “Secrets, secrets are for everyone.”

“Shut up.” I grabbed her waist, pulling her arm towards me. She switched the paper to the other hand, holding it back. I groaned, reaching for it.

Sara turned her head to read the note, “‘To my dearest, Danny’. What? I’m not allowed to call you ‘Danny’! What is this?”

“Sara stop!” I could feel my face reddening.

“It would’ve been more affection if she’d have said ‘to my dearest’ instead of just plain old ‘Danny’.” Sara criticized.

“I’m going to cut your ovaries out and feed them to wild goose if you don’t give that back.” I threatened.

Sara ignored me, continuing on, “‘Had to leave. Your mother was going to be home soon.’ Oh, secret affairs. That’s kinky, Daniel. I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

“Sara!”

“Some shit I can’t read….‘Don’t make plans this weekend’” She looked up, quirking an eyebrow, “Someone’s getting laid.”

“Stop. Reading. It!” I snatched the paper out of her hand, holding it protectively to my chest. I tried to flatten it out with my hand, hoping she hadn’t read past there.

But the surprised look on her face revealed everything, “So… care to tell me who this mysterious ‘Slade’ fellow is?”

“No one.”

“Is that a real name or a code name?”

“It’s no name.” I growled, tucking the note in my front pocket this time. I had a feeling that Sara wouldn’t care to reach there either, but she had already read the entire note.

“Come on, Daniel.” She pleaded, “I’m your best friend. I deserve to know who this Slade person is!”

“That’s what I said when you wouldn’t tell me who you liked.”

She closed her mouth, looking away, “That’s different.”

“Is it? Is it really, Sara?” I smirked, knowing that I had her there. We were on the same page with this now.

“Yes. Because you’re actually having an affair with this person, while I stand no chance what-so-ever.”

“How is that really any different?”

“It is!”

I chuckled, leaning back, “Sure, Sara.”

She sighed, defeated, “Fine. I’ll play twenty questions with you for the answer?”

“Only if I can ask you twenty back.”

She narrowed her eyes, hesitating before finally succumbing with a barely audible, “Fine, Daniel.”

“Go ahead.”

The cafeteria slowly filled up more, yet no one noticed the two teenagers sitting at one table discussing something both illegal and secretive.

Though, Sara didn’t know about the illegal bit.

I hoped to keep it that way.

“Is Slade a codename?” She asked.

“No. Is your crush a boy?”

She flushed at the word ‘crush’, but nodded nonetheless, “Shut up, Daniel. Is Slade a girl or a boy?”

I hesitated, “Boy…”

Her reaction was minuscule. She raised an eyebrow and leaned back further, but overall didn’t seem surprised.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, “Is he someone I know and like?”

Sara snorted, “What kind of question is that? Of course not. You don’t like anyone.”

“So I know him?”

“It’s my turn.”

I crossed my arms, but let her take her turn.

“Have you known Slade for a while?”

I hesitated, “Technically.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s my turn.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Do I know him?”

She nodded, “What does ‘technically’ mean?”

“Technically; according to the facts or exact meaning of something.” I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You asshole. You know damn well what I meant.”

I frowned, “You asked me what technically means.”

“I meant what do you mean by that!”

“Be more specific next time, Sara.” I laughed at her annoyance. Sara narrowed her eyes but waited for me to ask my question.

“Is he in this lunch period?”

She nodded hesitantly. “Yes. What do you mean by ‘technically’?”

I sighed, “I mean, I have known him for a while, but not in the way you’re thinking. We’re only just starting to get to know each other more now. Does he sit by us?”

She kept her eyes trained on the table as she nodded once again. “Close. How old is he?”

I hesitated. “I… I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? I thought you said you’ve known him for a while.” She argued, clearly dissatisfied with my response. I didn’t know how to please her though. Asking Slade his age wasn’t one of the first questions I wanted answered.

“I met him when I was really young. I haven’t asked him his age since.”

“How old does he look?”

I shrugged. “Young.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“I know.”

“One of these days, Daniel, I’m going to sock you one right in the jaw.” Sara threatened darkly.

“I’m shaking in my pants.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You know, you nailed three questions off of me without letting me take a turn. That means I get three in a row too.” I smirked.

She sighed, defeated.

“Does he sit within your sight of the cafeteria?”

She nodded.

“What color hair does he have?”

“Black.”

My eyes widened as a smirk crossed my lips, “Is it Chase Richards?”

She hesitantly nodded.

I glanced behind my shoulder, eyes resisting on the jock. He was stereotypical of a high school player, save for he respected people. He had never been one to openly judge me for not being as social as he was.

I had respect for him.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Sara pleaded, “He’s so far out of my league… I would just die of embarrassment.”

“Who could I tell?”

“Good point.”

“And he’s not out of your league, Sara.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“You’re a lot prettier than you give yourself credit for.”

“Coming from the guy who can’t tell me his boyfriend’s age.” She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged.

We didn’t talk the rest of the lunch period.