The Elephant Secret

Chapter 1

I‘m looking through old photos of my childhood. I haven‘t seen these in years. A photo of me and my little sister catches my eye. She was so small and adorable. I miss her every single day. On the next page I encounter a picture of me when I was ten years old. I was a tough kid. I remember my dad telling me how tough I was. Patting me on head and smiling at his friends while telling them that I was his unbreakable little girl. I was glowing from happiness and hope until it all came down. My sister passed away three years ago. When my sister passed it destroyed everything. My parents fell apart. It took us two years to get back to a family. Still not saying that we are perfect, but at least now, we are okay. “April!” My dad calls from the kitchen. I run down as soon as he calls. He works for homeland security, to be exact, he is the head of the whole thing. So he works a lot. I grab my jacket on my way, knowing that I will have to take the bus to school. Our hose is big, four levels. My room is on the top floor. Bellow me is my parents room and their home office. On the ground floor is the kitchen and living room. When I get down my dad is standing in the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hand. I hug him, since I haven’t seen him in three days. He kisses me the top of my head and pats my back lightly. “Hey darling.” He says and I pull away. I get a bottle in the fridge and open it. “How have you been?” He asks and I swallow while nodding.

“Fine. Why do you ask?” He giggles and shakes his head.

“You are so silly, always thing there is something wrong when people try to be polite to you.” I smile at his face. He has blond, short and finely cut hair and his beard is trimmed closed to his face. He rubs the side of his face with his left hand. “Still there is something.” He says. “You know my friend Michel?” I nod. Dear god please don’t let it be a dinner party. I beg in my head. “Well he and his family are coming to dinner tonight.” NO! Why me! Don’t misunderstand I like Mr. Crowder and his wife. It’s their son I dislike. He goes to my school. Pretty bad company, he and his friends. Not that I know them well at all. But I over heard my mum talking to his mother about him being in trouble with authorities. I’m not very noticeable at school. I try to lay low and get unseen around the campus. I have my friends and that is enough for me. But I notice him. I don’t think he knows who I am. But I know him. Incredibly handsome, tall, dark-haired, brown eyes and a fine smile. How do I know these things? Let’s just call it admiring from afar. “Sweetie I need you on your best behaviour tonight. Can you show them how polite and sweet you are?” Dad says and smiles hopefully. I nod firmly.

“Sure.” I answer and he let’s out a breath. “But,” I say and he knows what’s coming. “you pay the gas on my car for the next two months.” I deal. He purses his lips and smirks slightly.

“One month.” He argues calmly.

“One and a half.” I offer.

“Fine.” He says handing his hand to me and I shake it firmly like he taught me. “Now go to school so you won’t be late.” He kisses the top of my head and I grab my bag and jog out the door. I plug in my music and turn it up as I walk to the bus stop. I like taking the bus. I choose to take the bus to school rather than driving. No parking. The bus gives me time off. Just to think. It interests me how little we notice the life around us. As I look over the people on the bus I make up stories in my head. The old man in the front has cast on his hand. I wonder what happened. I wonder if he has a family or is he all alone and is that why he’s taking the bus? Is this poor old man coming from the hospital in a bus? In the back is a woman with girl twins around two years old with her. She looks exhausted. On of her girls sleeps with her head on her mother’s thigh and the other stares out the window wide-eyed. The bus is mostly empty so I sit alone. It’s a short ride to the school, hints how soon I’m getting out of the bus and walking towards the school. The night dries away from the morning and the light of a sunny daws sneaks between the houses in the street my school stands by. Kids walking in uniforms that give them all a dull look walk onto campus, some singular some in groups. I usually walk alone. The school building is a big chunk of grey concrete with windows and doors. It’s surrounded by trees and in a small clearing by one of the exits stand a few kids with a cigarette in their hand or mouths puffing the smoke into the almost fresh air around the school. It doesn’t matter in what direction I look, everywhere around me are construction cranes. The smell of carbonic acid gas, even though it’s odourless. I can feel it fill my lungs with every frosty breath. It’s minus 3°c out side and I wrap my scarf better around me and pull my fingers up into my sleeves. The steal on the door is cold and I let go of it as soon as I can. When I get in I sit down with my friends. Hannah, Tally and Tiffany. We talk about the guys we are currently stalking while sipping our tea or coffee. I’m holding my mug in front my face when he comes in and his eyes immediately meet mine. Drake Harry Crowder. I avoid his gaze and concentrate on telling the girls that he was staring at me like that. They laugh and look at him as he stands by his table and talks to his friends. The bell rings and I hurry to PA. I always go into the bathroom to change. I look at my half naked body in the mirror. I’m not tall at all, and my legs are too short but I don’t really care. On the top of my left breast and down my chest is a big scar. On my side is another scar from under my arm and down my hip. It’s not straight like the one on my chest. On my other side I have a tattoo. An elephant with a beautiful pattern. It’s big and on the side of my ribcage. From my hip and down the side of my thigh is a dream-catcher. Over my scar on my chest, I have a patterned peace of a symbolic flower. The elephant is for my sister. She loved them. After she died I got more than five tattoos. None visible when I’m dressed. I pull my shirt over my sports bra and pull my shorts over my thighs. I tie my short blond curly hair up in a ponytail. The gym smells disgusting. Sweat, puke, and blood mixed together. I’m one of three girls that actually shows up for gym class. I tie the shoelaces and jog to the line we are supposed to stand on.  My eyes stare at the floor and dart to my feet. I can see the end of my tattoo peeking from under the shorts. I hike them lower on my hips to hide it. They may never know who I really am. I’m at the end of the line but suddenly I feel a presents next to me. I look to my right and see Drake. Oh eat my arsehole. I curse to myself. The teacher tells us that today we will be working in pairs and we will be boxing. That’s a first. I wonder why they choose a violent sport. But I push the thought aside. I’m happy because I’m actually good at it. He divides us into groups of two and I end up with Drake. I turn to him and he smirks at me. I roll my eyes. “Well, shall we?” I ask and turn to the polls that we are supposed to do pull ups. I’ve never been good at sports but this type of training I’m good at. He starts and does a few before dropping on the floor, fixing his hair and nod towards the poll. “I can hold your feet and help you if you want?” I offers with a smirk. I laugh out a breathy laugh and jump up and grab the poll tightly. I pull my small body up 30 times without stopping. When I drop on the floor I see few of the kids staring and Drakes eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open.  “Your turn.” I say and smile. He gapes and takes his turn. “Want me to hold your feet?” I mock and he rolls his eyes. After 25 he struggles to do better than me. I don’t blame him. I have been trying to do this for years before I could do this many at a time. He finally gets 30 and drops down on his feet. I do the rest of mine and then we are off to skipping. We are fist to finish the pull ups and the rest of the kids seem more interested in talking than the class. He walks uncomfortably close to me to the ropes. I take a step away and feel him take a step closer to me. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” He says in a low voice. “Didn’t take you for a tattoo girl.” I laugh quietly and shake my head. “What is it?” He asks and looks at my hip. He’s handsome and he knows it. His eyes scrutinize me and burn mine. I can’t let him know who I am. He’s having dinner with my parents and they will loose it of they find out.

“A mule you creep.” I say and shake my head. I pick up the rope and start jumping. He starts after me and is skips fast for his size. He’s tall and has quite broad shoulder. We are supposed to do 50 skips and in only five minutes I’m done and him too. The next thing we are supposed to do is punching exercise. I start holding the pads for him. He throws light punches and I know that he’s sparing me. “You can punch like a normal human and not like a baby.” I mutter and he looks at me with a smirk. His fists start picking up speed and the punches get harder.

“Wanna’ switch?” He asks, sweat peeling down his face in narrow lines of small drops. I wish I could say it made him less attractive, but I would be lying. I put and black gloves, it feels weird to not have my own. I start driving my fists into the pads he’s holding, not as hard as usually. I don’t want him to think of me as a monster. He already thinks I’m a terminator after the pull ups. He counts to 30 punches for me and then I take a break. My hand swipes drops of sweat of my forehead. We switch again and then once again after that. “You do have a tattoo.” He says when it’s my turn to punch for the second time. “What is it?” He asks and I shake my head and hit as hard as I can so he stumbles backwards.

“Well done dear.” The female teacher says with a wink. I smile at her and then gin at Drake.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He comments and I look at him while sitting down on a small wooden bench up against the wall. I lean forwards and take off the gloves. “Why don’t you want to tell me?” He asks and sits down next to me so our knees are touching. “I mean it’s not like I’ll tell anyone, I barely know you. I don’t even know your name.” It makes me smile that he doesn’t know who I am. We have met so many times before. Yet he could be lying. I look him in the eye. He lifts an eyebrow.

“It is a birthmark.” I tell him slowly and walk away. I hear him snicker behind me, kind of laughing.