The Last Secret You'll Ever Keep by Laurie Stolarz (ebooks online reader .TXT) 📗

He smiled too, gazing at my mouth, making my face heat up. “I’m Garret, by the way.” He extended his hand for a shake.

“Terra.” I shook his hand.

“And are you in TE?”

It took me a beat to decipher the initials: TE … A girl on the staircase had the Greek sorority letters embroidered across her sweatshirt. “Not exactly.”

“One of the pledges, then?”

“That depends.” I took a sip. What was a pledge?

Garret shot me a suspicious grin just as someone bumped him from behind, almost spilling punch all over his shirt. “I think we’re in the line of traffic here.” He took a step back as though about to turn away, but then motioned to a couple of chairs by a wood-burning stove. “Want to go sit?”

Like a reflex, my body steeled. But I really wanted to talk to him more, so I gave a slight nod.

We sat down, opposite each other, a few feet from the hearth.

“So, how come I haven’t seen you around before?” he asked.

“Maybe you haven’t been looking.”

“Right…” He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed you.” He peeked at my hands.

I couldn’t stop scratching. My palms were so itchy. “Do you live on campus?”

“I used to, but now I rent a place with a couple of friends. They’re here tonight too.” He peered around, searching the throngs of people.

I searched too, still wondering about Jessie. I sent her another text: All still ok???

While I awaited her response, Garret and I continued to talk, everything from favorite places to eat—Taco Tango for him and Fork & Table for me—to the classes he was taking (mostly criminal justice and forensic science courses). He wanted to be a cop. I wanted to talk to him all night.

“I’m really glad I decided to come to this,” he said. “I wasn’t going to, but my philosophy professor talked me into it.”

“Your philosophy professor knows about sorority parties?”

“Not exactly.” He grinned some more. “But we had a discussion in class about taking chances, going outside one’s comfort zone.”

“Your comfort zone doesn’t include sorority parties, I assume.”

“Not typically. I’m more of a sports-bar kind of guy. Have you taken any of Professor LeDuc’s philosophy classes?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“He talks a lot about conscious choice—how sometimes even the seemingly simplest ones can change the whole trajectory of our lives.”

“Sounds pretty intense.”

“But it’s also kind of true, when you think about it.”

“So, if I’d decided to have spaghetti over quesadillas for lunch today, my life would be totally different?”

“Maybe not.” His face turned pink. “It’s sort of hard to explain, but it made sense when he talked about it in class.”

“Well, I have my own philosophy. I think that everyone we meet—from the purest of hearts to the darkest of souls—crosses our path for a reason.”

“Talk about intense. Does that philosophy apply to here, now? Meeting me, that is?”

“Definitely,” I said, feeling my face pinken too.

“That’s pretty deep.”

“No philosophy course required.”

“So then where do you get your wisdom?”

“Life school.” A.k.a. years of listening to people of all sorts (specialists, strangers, friends, my aunt…) telling me the way it is and how I should think. “I believe we’re here to learn lessons—to get closer and more prepared for whatever the big thing is.”

“What do you think that big thing is?”

“I’m still working on that one.”

“So, the teacher who made me sit in the corner in the second grade,” he continued. “That dark soul … What did I learn from him?”

“The abuse of power, maybe.”

“And the sixth-grade bully who kicked me off my bike more times than I could count?”

“Maybe he taught you about compassion.”

“And how about right now?” He leaned slightly forward and gazed, once again, at my mouth. “Are you learning anything from me?”

I could smell the spearmint on his breath, and could feel the pounding inside my chest—a deep and rhythmic throbbing that made my pulse race.

My phone pulsed too, vibrating against my thigh. A reminder to take my meds. An icon of a pill bottle rolling its eyes popped up on the screen. I quickly turned it over. How was it possible that two hours had passed?

“Is everything okay?” Garret asked.

“It is. It’s just … I should probably go find my friend.” I stood up just as Jessie stumbled in my direction.

Her eyes looked glassy. She was sucking a lollipop. “I may’ve had a little too much to drink.” She laughed. “But you’ll be proud of me: I gave my keys to some girl. In hindsight, I probably should’ve given them to you, but she said she needed a car, and I really wanted to help. Anyway, I’m sleeping here, in my sister’s room.”

“Wait, what?” My head fuzzed.

“I’m really sorry.” She suckled. “I tried to score you a place to crash, but there are zero spare beds and I’ve already claimed the futon.”

“Hey, wait. I can drive you home,” Garret offered. “Both of you, actually. Are you guys at the main campus?”

“Try again.” Jessie laughed. “We’re Emo students.”

“Emo?” Garret’s face scrunched. He didn’t get it.

I wasn’t about to explain it.

“Seriously, I don’t mind at all,” he said.

Part of me was tempted to take him up on the offer. But I knew better; rule number two on my parents’ list of survival tips: Don’t go off with anyone you don’t know (and only half trust those you do). “Thank you anyway, but I can call someone,” I told him.

“Okay, but I’m right here.” He touched my forearm—a gentle squeeze.

I felt it in my thighs. “No, really. I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

But he insisted too. “I’ll wait with you, then. Until someone picks you up.”

I wanted to say yes, but I also wanted a moment. The air felt suddenly thick. I couldn’t get a solid breath. “I’m going to find a bathroom.”

I turned away and headed back through the kitchen. The bathroom was around the corner. And I really meant to use it—to take my meds, to give myself a pause. But on impulse, I passed it and went out the patio