The Secrets We Keep

The Thirteenth Chapter

Hayden

"How does Amelia know where we live?" I ask my brother as we sit together at lunch the next day. Damien doesn't bother looking up from his book before answering. 

"Because I gave her our address," he murmurs, flipping over to the next page of his book. 

"Why?" I ask, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. She's a really cool person and if something's going on between them, I don't think I would be mad about it. 

Damien sighs as he slips a piece of paper into his book. "She wants to come over this weekend. We're going to hang out."

"Really?" I say, chewing my contraband sour worms with glee. "Can I join?"

"No. It's a day of intellectualism. She's just picking me up before we go to the art gallery that just opened up and you would be bored to death."

"Oh, so it's a date," I say. He throws a spoon at me and I just barely move out of the way before it comes barreling at me. 

"Shut up," he says but I can see his cheeks have gone pink. 

Once Damien has made sure my inquisition is over, he picks up his book again, content to ignore me. I start rummaging through my packet of sweets loudly but nothing I do gets a rise out of him. Eventually, I get bored and start people-watching. 

Unfortunately, my gaze snags on a particularly crowded table in the center of the room. There I see Nathan and a few of his friends conversing about some topic that seems to have most of the occupants engaged. Even Amelia is among them. She's standing over Nathan's shoulder and I glance over to my brother, hoping he's too absorbed in his book to notice. 

Among the people sitting there is Christopher. Unlike the others, he seems disinterested in the conversation. I almost look away until I see something purple on his face. I lean forward on the table, wondering what it is. He must sense my stare because a second later, he's looking right at me. 

I take a sharp breath when I realize what's marring his face. It's a bruise. A big purple and blue one that covers his left eye and cheek. 

Damien looks up when he hears my intake of breath. "What's wrong?" he says, staring at me in annoyance. I guess I keep taking him out of his book.

"It's nothing," I say, sure that it is, as I start stuffing my face again. Christopher probably pissed off another person. He's a jerk. I'm sure he had it coming. 

But even as I tell myself that, I still feel my stomach tighten in sympathy. His face looks like it hurts. 

-

"Who'd you piss off?" Johnson asks Christopher as we enter his class for round two of detention. 

Christopher ignores the question as he takes a seat at the back of the class, unfortunately in the one next to me. I hate that he's done this. 

I take my usual seat, not wanting to be accused of 'childish games' by choosing another one. 

"Afternoon, Mr. Johnson," I greet politely as he stands up from his desk and starts heading our way. 

"Good afternoon to you too, Hayden. You seem more reserved today. Is my detention already paying off?" He asks, putting my marked essay in front of me.