Dirty Little Secret

I've been trying to make more of an effort to go back to my old self and hang out with Allie and Courtney more often especially now that football seasoning is coming to a close but I am finding it exhausting. I never realized how vicious I was being towards the people I barely even knew. I was judging people who I didn't even know, making fun of something that they had no control over.

"My God, can she get any uglier? Like her face is one big zit," Allie said while watching a girl walk into the cafeteria. "They have make up for a reason honey, use it!" She called after her once she passed our table.

"Some people can't help it," I mutter.

"Excuse me?" Allie asks, copping an attitude.

"Some people can't help it," I say louder. "Everyone's hormones are different. If your parents couldn't afford the best cosmetologist in the state then I bet you'd look a lot like her and if I never took pity on you and decided to take you under my wing, you'd be sitting over there with her. Your life now would be a sick wet dream that you'd never get."

"What's your problem?"

"My problem is that you and Courtney," I give Courtney and icy glare, "is that you think you both have the right to talk about me behind my back to my own boyfriend about who can and can't be friends with. I made you two and I can easily make sure that the rest of your high school life will be a living hell but since I'm over that petty bullshit, I'm going to ignore how immature and superficial you two are."

"What are you talking about?" Courtney asked. I could hear the fear in her voice.

"Well, Saturday Eric decided to sit me down and tell me that you three talked and don't like who I talk to and if I talk to this said person, I'm going to be, and I quote 'put in my place' if I don't stop talking to this said person."

"Who is the said person?" Allie asked.

"We're just worried about you," Courtney says, obviously knowing who I was talking about. "He's scary and ever since you started talking to him you've become so cut off from the world. I know you guys talk outside of school, I saw you two talking before practice. I just don't want him to hurt you."

"How would he hurt me? Do you even know him?"

"He killed his brother when he was like ten. I used be friends with him, I was there."

"You used to be friends with Tate Daniels?" I asked surprisingly.

"Yeah, we went to the same elementary school. I moved shortly after the death. He moved about a year after that. By the time he came to school, I was already friends with you and everyone called him a freak because he dressed different and is so much taller and is so quiet that I decided it was best to leave my friendship with Tate in the past," Courtney shrugged her shoulders.

I could feel my heating up with anger and the only thing I wanted to do was to punch Courtney straight in the face, but I didn't. Instead I got up, grabbed my bag and said to her, "You are so fucking shallow to make up such horrible things about someone who has done nothing to anyone."

I stormed out of the lunch room and straight into the office and into the attendance lady's office. "I need to go home."

"Why dear?"

"Cramps," I use the excuse that every girl uses to get out of doing anything.

"Well, let me call your mother."

"No call my dad. His assistance will answer and she’ll say that it's okay."

She does and soon I have a slip of paper in my hand that allows me to leave and I'm out the door. I didn't want to go home but I wouldn't be able to get inside Tate's house unless someone was home and that was doubtful. I tried anyways, pulling into his secluded driveway and up to the closed garage. I got out, hoping to find a key under a rock or doormat but there was no luck in the front. I headed around the back to the sliding glass door and tried to pull it open and it did.

I walk inside dropping my bag and keys on the kitchen counter before yanking off my boots. Suddenly a figure comes out from the study.

"Cori?" It was Liz.

"Oh Mrs. Daniels, I mean Liz, I didn't think anyone would be here, I thought you'd be at the hospital," I said feeling embarrassed.

"I have a meeting at three and had to come home and get some paperwork. What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. I can leave if you want?"

"No that's fine, why aren't you in school?"

I shake my head not able to tell her the reason I left. She looks at me softly with a motherly expression. "Honey, what's the matter?"

"My friend said that she knew someone and that he did something really bad, something that he didn't tell me and my friend is afraid for me to be around him because she thinks that he'll do it again and I don't think he even did it the first time. I think she is just making up this sick lie so I'll return to how I used to be."

"Who is that someone?"

"Your son," I sob out.

"What did you friend say that he did?" Liz asks while walking towards me, bringing me into her arms and holding me tight, exactly like a mother would.

I shake my head, unable to tell her. "Can I stay here until you go back to work?"

"Oh honey, you can stay even after I leave. You are welcome here anytime."

"Thank you so much," I say crying even harder.

"You know what I like doing when I'm sad?"

"What?"

"Take a bath in a Jacuzzi with lots of bubbles and oils and candles. Go on upstairs, my room is the door at the end of the hall and you'll find everything you need in the cabinet by the tub."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome and when Tate gets home, don't be afraid to talk to him okay?"

"I will."

"I'll see you when I get home, everything will be okay. Everything with you and Tate and even your friend?"

"How will you know?"

"Mother's instinct."

I soak in the delicious scent of lavender, vanilla and honey. The warm water with the jets is relaxing. With each pop of a bubble, my troubles and worries start to vanish. Liz was right, baths are wonderful. Every problem should be solved in one, no wonder there are so many bathrooms in the White House.

I am lying in Tate's bed when I hear the door open. I don't bother opening my eyes; I know that it's Tate.

"I see you're wearing my shirt. Mug shot Kurt Cobain looks good on you."

I smile but don't say anything.

"So did you run off at lunch just to hide out in my room in my clothes or do you have a real reason?"

I sit up in the middle of the bed and look at him. He's standing at the foot of the bed, looming over me. I needed to talk to him; it isn't good to not communicate.

"You never told me that you and Courtney used to be friends," I whisper, finding a spot on the black comforter to stare at.

"So she does remember me," He says playfully.

"Yeah, and she remembers a lot more," I lashed out, annoyed that they knew each other.

"Like what?"

I pause scared to say and hear what comes next. "How did Jackson die?"

"I told you, he drowned," Tate said quickly.

"That's not what she said."

"What did she say?"

I look at Tate in the face, it's a new expression. He's scared, terrified. "I think you know."

Tate takes a seat at the end of the bed facing away from me. I hear him let out a long an painful sigh as he covers his face with his hands. "Yeah, I did."

"What did you do?" I question.

"Don't make me say it Cori," Tate lashes out. He stands up quickly, running his fingers through his hair. I stare up at him not knowing what to do. "Fine, I'll say it. I killed him. I killed my brother. My four year old brother is dead because of me."