~ Other People's Secrets ~

by

Stacey Lee

Everybody has their thing. Some people are popular. Some are athletic. Others are artistic or intelligent or musical. I keep secrets. I know things about people that their best friends have no clue about.

It has been this way as far back as I can remember. People come to me to pour out their hearts and ask for advice. I don’t know why this is.

My best friend, Parker Wallcot, thinks I should cash in on it, get myself a newspaper advice column like Dear Abby or something. Parker is always coming up with money making schemes. I think this is because his family doesn’t have much. I think they’re better off that way. The rich kids at school seem to have the worst problems.

I’ve told Parker this many times but he never listens and keeps trying to come up with some way to make a little extra dough. The most money he’s ever made was one hundred dollars last summer cutting lawns. Most of that money had to go to his dad to pay him back for breaking the lawnmower.

“Aynslee, can I talk to you for a minute?”

I look up from the somewhat daunting task of removing my books from my locker without bringing everything that’s stuffed in there crashing down. Katia Volkovka is standing at my elbow, books clutched tightly against her chest, eyes scanning the hallway.

She has something to say, seems to be uncomfortable about saying it.

“Sure, of course,” I say, smiling warmly and stepping closer.

Katia shifts; her eyes find mine for a moment then flick downward.

I barely know Katia. We’ve been in the same class a few times since she moved to town in the fourth grade but, aside from a few group projects over the years, we’ve never really spoken to each other.

She is a quiet girl, hangs out in the library with a few other brainy, quiet kids. I don’t know her well enough to say whether or not I like her. She seems nice enough though.

As I wait for her to speak, I wonder about what it is that has her standing before me so tongue-tied. I’ve heard lots of stories, dispensed a lot of advice over the years. Sometimes those people were a bit nervous, but there is an air surrounding her that I can’t put my finger on, though it catches my attention immediately. Whatever she has to say is going to be big.

Before she can say anything, I spot Parker striding towards us. As soon as I do I know that she’s going to bolt. I try to send him a firm but polite go away with my expression but he is oblivious. Not that I’m surprised.

Just as I thought, as soon as Parker is at her elbow Katia mutters a barely audible “never mind, I gotta... be somewhere,” and disappears into the crowd.

I turn my full attention to Parker. It takes him a moment to notice my scowl.

“What?” he asks, his ever-present grin not fading in the least.

“Never mind.”

I can’t stay mad at Parker. Never could. Not even the time when we were eleven and he melted my Barbie with a magnifying glass. The one I got from my aunt that had never been taken out of the package. The one that would be worth money one day because it was an original.

My mom wouldn’t let him in the house for a week and a half after that. I forgave him as soon as he flashed me a smile and offered to buy me a snow cone.

“What’d Katia want?” he asks as I turn my attention back to the demon that is my locker.

“I don’t know, she never got around to asking.”

“Sorry,” he says, smiling sheepishly and sounding sincere. He is finally realizing his arrival scared her off. “If it’s important she’ll come back.”

“Maybe.”

I finish retrieving the books I need for the day without bringing anything down on my head, and shove the binders into my backpack. By the time I make it down the hallway I forget all about Katia and whatever it is that she wanted to ask me.

~ * ~

I don’t give Katia a second thought all day until I pass her in the hall the next day between classes. Feeling guilty that I never got the chance to hear her out, I whirl around and call out her name.

She turns to look at me. I close some of the distance between us.

“You said yesterday that there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Katia grows still. Even though she is already standing stationary I get the distinct impression of her whole body tensing up. Freezing.

“Katia?”

She shakes her head and pulls her books up to her chest. “It was nothing,” she says, smiling too brightly.

“Whatever it is, I don’t tell anyone.”

“I just overreacted about something. No big deal.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, studying her carefully.

“I’m sure,” she says firmly but while averting her gaze from mine.

“If you change your mind...”

“I won’t. It was nothing.”

“I’m here to listen,” I continue, talking over her.

I don’t know why I’m pursuing this the way I am. I barely know the girl. We’re not friends or even acquaintances. If I want to invest myself in other people’s problems there are a lot of people that I’m closer to who would be happy to oblige.

“Thanks anyway,” she says, edging away.

“Later.”

I watch her walk away from me down the hall and out of sight around the corner, wondering over the feeling our encounter has left me with. Something isn’t right but I can’t figure out what.

Forget about it, I counsel myself as I turn and make my way to my next class. There are plenty of people who want your help and aren’t afraid to ask for it. I don’t need to go looking for people to dole out advice to.