Hushed Secrets (on hold)

Chapter 1

Summer is too hot.

I'm just waking up, and I'm already sweating.

Madina is typing away on her computer. I glance at the laptop screen and see that she's working on another Powerpooint. Too lazy to try to figure out what's it's about, I pull my eyes away from the laptop screen and get out of bed.

Mom must be cooking, because downstairs is more than hot. I usually have breakfast before I shower, but instead I go straight to the shower, eager for something cold.

In the midst of my shower, I hear a banging on the door. The cool water falls on me so peacefully and soothingly, i hesitate to get out of the shower. I just peak my head through the shower curtain and yell: "Come in!"

The door opens, revealing Madina's timid body. She's sweating, and she has her laptop in a death grip against her chest.

"Yes?" I say, annoyed by the interruption.

"I gotta use the bathroom, Levi." She said. "Now."

"Then use the bathroom." I say in a "duh" tone.

"But...I can't. You're a boy." Madina said, staring down at the floor. I roll my eyes. Sometimes, Madina can be so difficult.

"I'm your brother. And I"m not looking. Go ahead." I say. I pull my head back into the shower, closing the curtain. The annoyance the Madina brought me quickly fades, and the therapeutic coolness of the water falling down on me makes a smile form on my lips.

Soon, I hear the sound of the toilet flushing, and Madina's footsteps on the bathroom rug. Suddenly, the shower water became too cold, making me shiver. I turned off the water and get out of the shower.

"Levi! Your breakfast is going to be cold." Mom calls to me. I wrap myself in the towel and head to my room to change. Fortunately, Madina has left to go to her room.

My bedroom is absolutely neat. I figure that's the least I could do if Mom's going to let me live here for another few months.

I dropped out of the tenth grade about two months ago. My mother was disappointed, and she kind of disowned me for a while. I couldn't take it at school. I mean, no one bullied me or anything--girls loved me and I had friends. I was even smart, too. I had no plans of dropping out of school before my father came back. But when he did...

My father had been in jail for ten years, since I was six. He was accused of rape. I know he was innocent, though. He said he was.

The day my father was released from prison, he came to my school to pick me up early. Just a father wanting to celebrate his freedom with his son, a totally innocent action. But the people at my school didn't see it that way. The whole neighborhood didn't see it that way.

My father had barged into my Spanish classroom, yelling, "Hola, amigos!" The whole class stared at him. The boys kind of stared in confusion, as if to say "Aren't you supposed to be in prison?" The girls, though--their stares hurt my feelings.

All the girls hugged themselves in their seats, their eyes growing with surprise and fear and their pencils shaking in their hands. They knew the story of my father, and they were scared.

My father had been accused of raping a fifteen year old girl. Just like them.

I couldn't bear the embarassment. It didn't seem possible for me to spend another day in that school, or anywhere in the neighborhood. So, I dropped out of school the day my father was released from prison.

My mother understands now why I dropped out. She has sympathy for me. But I wanted that sympathy when I first dropped out, when she decided to disown me. Now, I don't really have any desire for sympathy. I want her respect back though. I want to know that my mother doesn't see me as a hopeless kid, a teen with no future. I want to make her proud, but I don't think that's possible anymroe.

Madina never really seemed to care when I dropped out. The only significant thing about the day I dropped out of school to her was that her father was released. That's when her obsession with the computer started. Her laptop is like her diary. Nothing more, nothing less. That's how we see it, just to find a way to make sense of it.

I changed into a pair of denim capris and a blue Adidas T-shirt. Just as I finished changing, Madina came into the room. Her hands were over her eyes.

"Are you dressed?" She asked.

"Yes, Madina. I'm dressed."

"So it's okay for me to uncover my eyes, right? I won't see anything I'll regret."

I sigh. "No, Madina. You can open your eyes."

Madina slowly opened her eyes, and when she saw me she sighed in relief and went to get a pen she left on my desk.

Madina can't be on her laptop in her room, because her room doesn't have Wi-Fi signal. She comes in my room early in the morning when she can be alone and she always forgets something when she goes to her room.

When she left, I went to look in the mirror. I had a slight mustache coming in--just some peach fuzz, but for now. I had tan, chocolatey skin. My mother and father's parents were both born in India, but Madina, Mom, Dad, and I are Indian-Americans.

I'm almost bald, just wavy hair that sits atop my head. My lips weren't very thin, but weren't full. I had perfect white teeth, and a single, silver stud earring in my left ear.

After confirming with myself that I looked okay, I went to the kitchen for breakfast. My mother was standing at the breakfast table with her lips pursed. She had one hand on her hip and the other was holding her weight on the table.

"Your breakfast," she pointed to the plate on the table, "is cold." I smiled, trying to ease her anger.

"Sorry, Mom. I can warm it up in the microwave. Good morning, by the way." I went over to her and kissed her on the cheek, and took my cheese omelet and placed it in the microwave.

"You're going to be late." Mom said to me. She sat down at the table with her head in her hands.

"For what?" I asked. Have you forgotten I don't go to school anymore? I want to say. Of course, that would just remind her of the fact that I dropped out of school and make her more upset than she is now.

"Spanish class." She said when she raised her head up. I looked at her, confused.

"Mom...I don't have Spanish class." I said.

Suddenly, Madina came into the kitchen and said: "Oh, yeah, Seppy called a few days ago. She invited you to come take Spanish lessons with her at the community college. Sorry, I forgot to remind you."

Seppy?

Sephora. The girl that was my girlfriend before she found out what my father did.