Wrong[DISCONTINUED]

Secrets

I glanced behind my shoulder, jaw length hair swaying under my hood as turned. No one was around. Good.

Seeing as I was alone, I let all pretence of the at least somewhat feminine woman drop, tying my short hair into a bun and swaggering deeper into the dark alley. The gathering spot was surprisingly close to the school, only 5 minutes walk, but that didn't make accessing it any easier. Aside from the fact that the entrance was located in one of the few remaining festering arteries, it was also seemingly a dead end, the door concealed in the shadows so that it could only be spotted if you already knew it was there. Pushing past a stack of crates, the smell of rotten food and spoiled milk drifting up to meet me, I efficiently tapped the coded pattern onto the ancient wooden door.

Each member knew the code: tap-tap-slap-tap-tap to verify that you were indeed a part of the group, followed by an individualized pattern spelling your name. In my case, it compromised a long series of taps, slaps and knocks that somehow, through logic I never bothered to learn, spelt 'Emera'.

The door swung inwards, and I strode into the room. Smirking at Joe, a boy with fiery red hair, however his temper was anything but. Angering him had always been my favourite pastime, even going as far as to flirt with him a little. Of course, I quickly lost interest. His iron-hard will and unbreakable composure refused any attempt to make him uncomfortable. Well, that was fine with me. He was the one missing out.

I paused for a moment to survey my surroundings. There were a good 30 people in our community, all of which were present, and milling about the spacious-but still cramped- room. A group of 5 played darts by the far end of the room, throwing them with expert precision. Further back were the drinks. Some alcoholic, some not. I turned my head as I heard music drifting from a mini stage in the corner, and a smile ghosted my lips at the unchecked, uncontrolled beauty of it. No, this was not government-approved music, and completely illegal to listen to. This whole meeting was illegal. Did I care? No.

I sauntered towards the drinks station, having spotted my general group of friends near it.

" Emera!" A cry pierced the room, trembling with excitement and feminine enthusiasm.

A grin slashed across my face, and I sped up my pace towards the drinks table, where I poured myself some sort of cocktail and sipped, the alcohol searing down my throat. I had tried some on my first night here. Then, I had been only 14, and had gotten so utterly drunk and incoherent that my now-friends had to drag me all the way back to my home. That had been 2 years ago, and I was now almost as close to them as I was to Avery. The thought wiped the grin off my face. If only he could see me, drinking underage, listening to forbidden music, flirting with guys and wearing masculine clothes. What would he think of me?

"Em?"Alice's soft voice coaxed me from my musings, and I willed my face back into the cocky, confident expression that I always wore.

"Sorry. I was just thinking" I responded, taking a deep drink from my cocktail and feeling familiar warmth spread through me as it made its way through my body.

"About?" Alice prompted, inky hair sliding across her shoulders.

I stiffly shook my head, a clear sign that I didn't want to talk about it. Alice sighed, opening her mouth to plead for more details-

"Hey Em!" George's eager yell interrupted her, and I could have kissed him for sparing me the uncomfortable conversation that was just moments away.

"What is it now, George?" I asked him, covering up my happiness with an insufferable smirk.

"Are you joining us for the match or are you going to sit there preening your hair like a fine lady?

My nostrils flared" You're just saying that because you know I'll beat you into the dirt" I remarked snidley, even as I winked my goodbye to Alice.

George rumbled a laugh, only jerking his chin towards the garden in silent invitation before walking out. Garden, I thought, snorting.I doubted it deserved to be called even that. Stationed away between a clump of buildings, obstructed from view, it got barely enough sunlight to grow some grass and a few clumps of weeds. I would never stop being grateful for it though-not when it was the only safe place to play football without being discovered. An illegal sport for a female to practice, and a serious enough offence that it could get me banished or executed. It was a risk I was willing to take. Football was one of the only things that brought me joy in life, and I wasn't going to let the government ruin that too.

Strutting outside, I scanned the two goal posts, and the teams that were now being chosen. Teams of 4, because there weren't enough people. There never were. Fortunately, I wasn't the only female playing. Trisha, a woman with platinum blonde waist-length locks, and Claire, a brown-eyed girl with a feisty attitude, stood at the ready. I simply shrugged before jogging over to them, as did another boy-Max, I think his name was.

Glancing down one of the miserable alleyways that pooled into the garden, I confirmed that no one was watching us and breathed a sigh of relief. We had almost gotten caught multiple times, and I didn't want to repeat the experience.

The game was seconds from starting, and my thighs burned as I tensed them, ready to leap-

A ladylike gasp sent us all snapping our heads in the other direction. And there, standing among the urine and trash, was the immaculate Kesha Berry.