Ocean of Secrets

In the morning Bridget’s dad left to go to work, and Bridget and I were left alone in the house. I started cooking some breakfast knowing that as soon as she got out of the bathroom, Bridget would complain that she was hungry.

“We’re going shopping today and then tonight we’re going to the club.” A smile lit up Bridget’s face when she saw that I was cooking, “What are you making?”

“Eggs and some sausage; nothing fancy,” I looked down at the frying pan and let out a loud yawn.

“You look tired. Did you sleep okay last night?” Bridget stood next to me while I finished scrambling the eggs and then grabbed two plates from the cabinet to her left.

“Oh yeah,” The lie escaped my lips before I could stop it. “I just woke up a couple times.” I kept my gaze away from Bridget and my stomach growled. Evenly I divided the food onto the two plates, and then we sat at the table.

“What color do you think you should wear tonight?” She stuffed a large forkful of eggs into her mouth. If it weren’t for the fact that I was her only audience, then she wouldn’t be eating like a pig. Around boys she ate less than a bird.

My eyes wandered around her kitchen as we ate in silence for a few short moments. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

Bridget stared at me for a while before answering, “I think you’d look hot in black.” She let out a giggle as I widened my eyes, “What? It would contrast with your hair.”

“Wouldn’t it make me look pale?” I pinched some of the skin on my arm to prove my point.

“It’s called blush Lucy.”

I looked down at the small, round table that Bridget had been eating at since she was in kindergarten. Things around the house were starting to fall apart; Mr. Fitzpatrick should start some renovating.

Bridget’s fork clattered against her plate, and I watched as she walked to the sink. “Hurry up because we’re going to leave soon.” She practically skipped out of the room as I started to shovel food into my mouth so that I could go get a shower.



It took forever for me to find a dress because Bridget and I were arguing over everything. She wanted me to go dance in five-inch heels and a dress that looked more like a long shirt than anything. When I put on one of the more classy dresses that I liked though, she called me a nun and went to buy one that I hadn’t even gotten to try on. Thankfully she didn’t buy the heels though.

When we got back to her house it was nearing four o’clock, and her dad had just gotten home with some dinner. We ate quickly and then were back in her room with the music blaring while Mr. Fitzpatrick went to his second job.

Bridget and I were like Yin and Yang. We weren’t anything alike, but when we were together we just clicked. I helped her put her hair into pretty, loose curls and then she had to force me to do the same with mine. I would’ve felt more comfortable with my hair straight like always, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I looked over at our dresses hanging on her white closet door and gulped. Mine was completely black with nothing unique about it except for the small inch of lace at the bottom, and the mid-length, lace sleeves. The lace pattern looked a little like flowers and sticks.

On the other hand, Bridget’s dress was a shiny gold that had just enough material to cover her butt and no extra. When she tried it on at the store she couldn’t even bend over without mooning me. The dress was cinched down the side which gave the whole thing a slightly wrinkled look, and the thick, flat straps went up around her neck. Both dresses were skin tight, and were most likely going to get us the kind of attention that my parents had always warned me about, but mine wasn’t as bad as Bridget’s.

“Get dressed and then I’ll put some make-up on you.” She started to sing along to the song that was playing on the radio while I walked over to the closet. Bridget loved to make people pretty and has repeatedly stated that she wants to do professional make-up after we graduate. She was good at it, and could even do the special effect stuff like in the movies that people had to spend years perfecting. I envied the fact that she could choose her own future, but was happy that she knew what she wanted.

I shimmied into my dress while she added the finishing touches to her face, and then sat in the chair in front of her vanity. “Work your magic Bri!” A smile formed on her face after I said the words, and I sat still while she worked on my face.