Our Secret

Chapter 4

Chantal's POV

"Did he say anything yet?" I asked my childhood friend, Layla, on her brave approach. "No," she sighed. "How bout you did your crush finally notice you?" She asked me. "No," I swallowed my ice tea as I replied. "I hope I don't have to go to prom alone," she whimpered. "I'll go with you," I offered. "Not the same," she whispered, and swung her head back and forth. "Oh its been 5 minutes since I've texted him," she whined, and her phone nearly flew out of her hand with all her flailing. That was ironic. She would usually reply to me the next day even though she was active on Instagram whenever I would message her. "Poor you," I gave her fake pity. "How do I look?" She asked me. Gorgeous. How else would she look? Gorgeous was her aesthetic. Makeup wasn't necessary for her. Her eyelashes were natural volumized, and present, with a pair of dazzling green eyes. Her brows were perfectly shaped and defined, thin, but not too thin where they looked over plucked. Her skin left you breathless, clear from every blemish known to man kind. Her brown hair was frizzy, yet tangle free. All guys had eyes on her. I was the one who had to tell her all eyes were on her. It gets pretty annoying sometimes ... having to advise your friend with all this attention when I, myself don't get any. "You look good," I lowered the expectation of the compliment. She placed her hand on my thigh, "You're beautiful too Chanty. The only difference is I have to be this way." "Yeah I understand. I guess it's hard to have such high expectations when you didn't even ask to be born this way," I replied softly. "Who's this crush of yours?" She asked me. "Oh you don't know him," I lied. To be truthful he went to this exact school. It was embarrassing just to mention his name, but I just couldn't get enough of him. The way his blue eyes contained the perfect balance of innocent and evil. It was his eyes that made him, him. "That's such a shame," she pouted. The truth would change her mind. "He replied!" She exclaimed, earning us all the attention I didn't want. "What'd he say?" I asked her. "He he," she stuttered. "He doesn't want to go." "I'm sorry Layla," I apologized. " So does that mean you'll finally go with me?" A guy popped out of nowhere. "No you're annoying and pathetic," Layla reminded Chase. Chase has been at it ever since middle school. I won't lie, sometimes I wished it were me who was getting hit on by him, but the other half of me said I could do way better than Chase. "Hey Chantel," Chase did that walk he did whenever he was looking for a last resort. "Don't you dare think about asking my bestie you piece of shit," Layla scared him away. "Whoa can't I ask a beautiful girl like Chantel out? Jesus," he sarcastically asked her, and rolled his eyes in disgust. Fuck Chase. He called my an ugly duckling whenever we were little, and I let him copy off my test for the exchange of gum. What is it with kids and gum anyways? "Fuck you Chase and you're ugly ass haircut," I rolled my eyes, and continued staring down at my phone. "Yall two are fucking hoes anyway," he ended this conversation with an idiotic roast. "I'm being pretty selfish huh?" Lalya asked the people around her, but I was pretty sure it was more directed towards me. "Don't worry - Brett loves you," I sympathized with her. "I should just stop bothering him," she pouted. " I'm probably nothing but a burden." "Stop Layla. Do you remember your first boyfriend?" I questioned her. I remembered him crystal clear. For some reason Layla choose him over every other guy that fought over her. When his name was spoken by the common people I just couldn't help, but remember what Layla had to deal with, and what I had to do to get her to see the good again. Did that truly work? I don't know. She shows so little emotion it's hard to tell if she even remembers his name, yet alone what he did to her. "I do," she trembled the slightest bit. "He was a burden," I explained the cruel truth. "You deserve so much more than what Kyle could ever give you, so much more." "I'm so happy you're my friend Chanty," Layla was beginning to tear up a bit. "Me too. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we got into a fight, and then I realize the world would probably come to an end," I chuckled, awkwardly. "Yeah, " she sniffed, and wiped away her subtle tears. "The world wouldn't be able to handle it." "So true," I strongly agreed. "Hey look it's Brett," I pointed out verbally. "Oh I should probably go apologize for my over dramaticness," she informed me. "Yeah," was all I said. "Hey Layla," Brett walked over to her first. "Hey Chanty," he waved at me, but didn't approach. "Hi," I replied shyly. "I'm sorry Brett," Layla apologized. "Whatever you want to do I have to support because we're a team and I love you so much." "I love you too Layla. It's just that I'm busy that day, and I actually have to talk to Chantel right now, " he rubbed his back as he awkwardly told her this. I gave Brett a confused stare. What good could I possible do for him? "Oh yeah uh you can talk to Chantel," she herself was also confused. "Thank you," he said. "Come on Chantel. It's urgent," his voice lowered many octaves. "Um okay," I spoke very faintly. He led me to the janitor's room which was not open for the students to enter. "What's uh what's going on?" I questioned him. "You - you're," he stuttered. "A friend of Courtney's?" "Oh yeah," I answered. "She used to go to this school actually." "Really?" He questioned me. "How come I never noticed her?" He asked me. How the hell would I know that? "I wouldn't be able to answer that," I told him. "I mean you were only interested in me up until you started dating Layla." "Right," he muttered, and nodded his head away from me. "I'm sorry?" I questioned him. "Oh nothing nothing," he went on. "Why do you want to know about her?" I asked him. "Do you know about any incidents that have happened recently?" He questioned me as if I were a witness to a crime scene. Oh. I finally understood what he meant now. "I was there," I spoke, sounding kind of offended. "But obviously a guy like you wouldn't notice a girl like me," I scoffed. I opened the door of the room as Brett called me back in, "Layla!" He placed his hand on the back of my shoulder. "Get off me!" I exclaimed, and shoved my shoulder back. I slammed the door shut, leaving Brett alone in that tiny closet considered a room. "What'd he say?" Lalya questioned me as I walked passed her. "Nothing important," I replied quickly. I could hear her faint cries calling me back, but my brain wasn't in control of my legs anymore. Stay in control. You've lost your legs, just remain in contact with the rest of you. I walked out of school without anyone noticing. Of course no one would notice. If Brett didn't, who would?