The Spilt Secret | A Zamika Fanfic

Chapter 11

She never came back to school. Ever. She just disappeared, like a mist. But she was like the air, so invisible yet so present and real. My whole highschool life was filled about her, making sure to remind me of what I've lost.

College came to pass, and I was waiting for it to start. I was going to Wellington State University at the start of fall. And as I was spending my vacation, I was making sure I visited Red Reese, Tomika's brother.

I walked up to his front door. I hugged my coat closer to me, and tried warming myself. The climate these days was usually cold and gloomy. Clouds, grey and dull were overlapping each other, snowflakes fell on my lashes gently then quickly melted.

I brushed my velvet knitted bonnet, and rapped on Red's door. He opened it, after my second knock. Red was in his checkered robe and he held a cup of tea in his gigantic hand. His red hair was down and his green eyes filled with ecstatic energy.

"Rematch again, kid?" he asked cockily, his lips tugging at the sides.

"Yep, I'm still hoping you'll lose one day," I say, shivering in my coat. He gestured me in and led me in a couch. He disappeared in a kitchen and went to brew some tea. As I waited, I fingered a silver ring that was on my finger. You guessed it right, it was from Tomika. Red gave it to me, when Tomika didn't come for school. The next day, I intended to give her my thanks for the precious gift.

But she was already gone.

Everytime I tried asking Red where she was, he would just brush it off and change the topic. And if I tried pulping him for answers he would just stay silent and immovable as a boulder.

Red finally sat next me, opened the television, and gave me my tea. We watched NBA and tried betting on which team would win. I always lost, and always end up cleaning the whole house for him as a punishment.

When I bet Cavaliers against the Spurs I lost. So I cleaned the kitchen only for today.

"A relative is here, asleep, so the kitchen is your only task for today. And after you clean, come back here and we'll play Halo," he said, as I cleaned up.

After an hour, I finally finished and got back to the living room. I was sweaty and my shirt was making me feel hot. I opened a fan and sat next to Red, he handed me a controller and opened the game. We played for hours, and we would laugh at each other if either of us lost. As we were playing we played some music, and I swear, it was freakin' loud.

We sang along as we played. And when Red was distracted in changing the music, I totally pulverised him at the game.

"Cheater," he accused.

"Loser," I tease him, after so many years of visiting him, I've gotten used to treat him like I usually treat Freddy and the squad.

Red snorted, and we didn't realize the music was still blaring from the speakers. The doorbell started ringing again and again, and we both got out. It was Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, they were the eldest of the neighbourhood and they were looking at us with a motherly and fatherly glare.

"Mr. Reese, we understand you like having fun, but please be considerant of your neighbours. Especially, when it's noon time and everyone is resting," Mrs. Erickson waves her bony arms.

Her grey eyes wandered from my head to toe and she gestured for me to lean closer. I leaned closer, the old lady quickly grabbed my ear and I yelped. She hissed in my ear.

"You shouldn't be hanging out with a badass like, Red, boy," she hisses.

I just shrugged until she lets go. I rubbed my earlobes, which I felt burn and turn red. Red apologised to the old couple and swiftly ushers me back to the house.

When we got inside, the fridge opened. Glasses clanked together. Pans rung as it hit metal. The stove opened, and I heard the flame burst in a low boom. Somebody hummed.

Then did I notice, the music was stopped. Our game was closed and the couch was neatly arranged and our controllers were set aside at the coffee table. My tea, which used to be cold was now, steaming hot.

"Whoop," the voice from the kitchen giggled. The scent of pancakes and bacon filled the house. Red started for the kitchen but I stopped him.

"What now?" he snapped.

"Maybe a thief," I snapped back.

"Oh come on, pretty boy. That thief you're talking about is a pretty one. You'll be surprised," he retorts.

He gets inside the kitchen and surprises the person inside. It yelps in surprise and starts laughing hard. For me, it seemed familiar. Like a forgotten lyrics in a song. Something that's at the end of your tongue, but you can't quite recall what it is.

"Heard Mrs. Erickson telling on you," the voice says. My heart fell. I quickly ran to the kitchen. Relief and joy surged to my veins. Tears started streaming down my cheeks, as I stared at the back of her now, straightened brunette hair. She turned slowly, holding the plate of pancakes she cooked.

She was wearing a velvet, oversized shirt, and it drooped to her right shoulder, visibly showing a scar.

Her shirt covered her black denim shorts, her grown legs showed completely beneath it, she was even barefoot. Her eyes still had the playful light in it, and I felt relieved.

But my heart pounded wildly as I stared at the familiar necklace that was on her neck. Its intertwined pendant glinting against the dim lamp lights.

"Tomika," I whispered, her name rolling satisfyingly in my tongue. Gosh, how long I wanted to say her name out loud.