Ocean of Secrets

The week went on without event, and soon enough the weekend had started. Bridget pulled out of the school parking lot and we started our trek across town. “What do you wanna do this weekend?” One of her hands gripped the wheel loosely and the other was running through her hair.

I rubbed one of my backpack straps between my fingers as I spoke. “Well actually I have to do some studying with my dad. He’s all hyped up because I got a C on my last Calc test.”

“God your father is way too serious.” Bridget pushed on the gas a little harder, “We’re seniors for crying out loud! You should be allowed to have some fun every now and then.”

She was right and I knew it. I wanted to be like every other kid in my grade and start the weekend off with some partying, but my dad would never allow it. His main goal was to get me into some high-class college, and then force me into some awesomely high paying job by the time I was thirty. If I told him I wanted a break from the daily grind he’d probably have a stroke, or yell at me for being lazy. “I don’t know Bri. Why don’t we just do something tomorrow? You of all people know how my dad is when it comes to school stuff.”

I looked over at Bridget just in time to see a huge grin lift her lips. “That’s why we’re going to ask your mom.”



When we got to my house my father still wasn’t home. Bridget and I walked through the front door, and she instantly yelled for my mom. “Mrs. Brooks!” She ran through the house and I followed behind her slowly. “Mrs. Brooks, where are you?”

“Hold on girls! I’m just finishing up some laundry.” My mom’s voice came from behind the basement door.

“Do you actually think that she’ll agree to this?” I was uncertain that this plan of Bridget’s would work and had to ask. She seemed pretty confident though.

“Your mom is cool. Of course she will.” I followed her into my kitchen, “She was a teenage girl once. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

I grabbed two glasses from a cupboard and the orange juice out of the fridge. “My dad won’t agree even f my mom is on our side though.” I poured the juice into our cups and placed the carton back onto its respective shelf.

“I don’t think she’ll give him a choice.” I placed Bridget’s cup in front of her and took a small sip from my own.

“Give who a choice?” The juice choked its way down my throat at the sound of my mom’s voice.

“You’re husband,” Bridget spoke for me as I coughed up half of my lung. “I wanted to spend the weekend with Luce and maybe take her to a dance club, but Mr. Brooks is making her study.”

Finally I could breathe and decided to sneak a quick look at my mom. She had a laundry basket in her arms, and her red hair was piled in a bun on top of her head. She was wearing one of my dad’s button down flannels and some sweatpants since it was her day off.

“Honey,” My mother met my gaze, “You’re a senior this year; you should be allowed to have some fun.” I looked over at Bridget and her expression said I-told-you-so. I placed my cup on the table and looked up at my mom again. “I’ll see what I can do Bridget. Lucy, why don’t you two go up to your room and wait for your father to return?”

Bridget grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the stairs into my basement bedroom. She slammed the door shut behind us and then turned me to face her. “I told you that she’d be on our side. She’s much more down to Earth than your dad is.” She wiped some imaginary sweat from her forehead.

Bridget’s voice somewhat echoed through the room and I winced slightly. I heard the front door shut and the sound of my dad whistling, “I think he’s home.” My body turned numb when I thought about the fight that was bound to happen.

“Let’s get you some stuff packed. You can stay the whole weekend at my house; I already got permission.” Bridget completely ignored me and ran across the room to grab a duffel bag from behind my bed.

“What?” I watched as she put the bag on my comforter and then began to plow through my drawers as if this was her bedroom. “I don’t even know if my dad will let me go yet!” I slowly walked over to the bed and sat next to the duffel bag.

“What is with your wardrobe? You’re going to have to borrow some stuff from me when we go to the club.” Bridget threw a pajama set into the bag and then a couple pairs of jeans. “You dress like my grandma. Maybe we should go shopping first.”

I sighed loudly hoping she would somehow change her mind. I didn’t have enough money to spend on some new clothes, and my conservative taste was just fine! Just because Bridget’s parents were wealthy didn’t mean that she could force me onto their credit card either, but I knew that was what she’d do if I refused. “I don’t have the money Bri, and I don’t want your parents to pay for my stuff either.”

“What about that job at the drugstore? Don’t you pull in some money from that?” Bridget continued to rifle through my clothes and threw a couple more things into my bag before moving onto my scanty make-up collection.

“Yeah but my dad is making me save that for college.” I heard some of my parents’ conversation coming in through my bedroom door. They had raised their voices quite a bit since my dad walked through the door.

“Well at least let me buy you something for when we go to the club. You’ll regret if you don’t look totally hot.” Bridget gave me the puppy dog eyes, and I knew that I had to accept her offer or she’d do it without my permission and I’d end up looking like a stripper.

“Fine but I have to help pick it out, and that is if my dad even agrees to-” A knock at my door made me stop talking.

I glanced over just as my mom popped her head in. “He’s a little angry at the moment, but you can spend the weekend with Bridget.” A door slammed upstairs and my mom smiled apologetically at Bridget. “I’d leave soon though so that he doesn’t change his mind.” My mom turned her smile to me, and I thanked her with a smile of my own.



“Do you ever think about your parents getting a divorce? They seem to fight almost every time I’m over.” Bridget tossed a handful of M&M’s into her mouth. We had made it to her house without seeing my father, and now we were relaxing on her bed and watching a scary movie.

A scream erupted from her television before I could answer, “Not really.” Suddenly I felt water fill my eyes at the thought, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bridget. “They seem to be happy when they aren’t bickering, and they get over their fights pretty quickly.”

My voice cracked on the last word, and Bridget paused the movie. “Yeah,” She sounded a little upset herself. “I guess they could stay together.”

Bridget’s parents had split up when she was still little, and although they were always civil together in front of a crowd, Bridget knew how they really treated each other. She had told me that she even remembered a few times when their fights had become physical.

It scared me to believe my parents would ever become like that. As a kid you want your parents – both of them – with you as you grow up. If I had lost half of the time I had with either my mom or dad, I most likely would have gone crazy. And if I had found out that one of them was physically hurting the other than I know how to act. I would have become completely broken.

Bridget pressed play and I tried to pay attention to the movie, but I couldn’t keep my mind off of my parents. What if one of them left while I wasn’t there? Would I ever see them again? I tried to put myself in Bridget’s shoes, and couldn’t keep my body from shaking.

“Luce, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I tried to make myself sound happy, but even I could hear the depression in my voice. “I was just thinking about my parents.” A tear slid down my cheek and I tried to wipe it away without Bridget seeing.

“Oh hon don’t cry. I didn’t mean that they would,” Bridget wrapped her arms around me and a few more tears fell from my eyes. “Just forget I even mentioned it; your parents will probably die in each other’s arms.”

A small giggle escaped my lips, and I returned Bridget’s hug. “Okay.” I forced my lips to curl up into a smile, but I stayed up late into the night, as Bridget snored next to me, with a pain in my chest.