Secrets

 Secrets



Best not play with fire…


The classroom was empty but for Mr H.

Dylan didn’t want it to be so easy. “Hiya.”

Mr H looked up and almost jumped. “Dylan. I didn’t expect to see you.”

You know the way that I hide. “I just finished last period. Bus is gone already.” Dylan tilted his head.

Mr H cleared his throat. “Right.”

The silence between them was hot as a flame.

“Your parents can’t pick you up?”

“They’re out of town.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

“Right…”

Dylan stepped to the desk and suddenly that was all there was between them. He watched Mr H touch a finger to his lips and mess with the papers in front of him.

“Something wrong?”

Mr H coughed. “You know this is inappropriate Dylan.”

“Was it inappropriate last time?”

~~~

The rain started before they did. Pelting down on the roof as Mr H kissed his neck and pushed him onto the desk. Dylan got high off the danger. Pants down to his knees, Mr H’s hand around his face, holding him still.

And then, the whisper in his ear. Why do you let me play?

~~~

It was dark when Dylan got there but there were lights on in the house. A white picket fence and perfectly maintained gardens.

That would do well.

The gasoline was less slick than he had imagined. More like water. The match didn’t even make a sound.





 Don’t light the match unless you want to watch me burn…

26:27

 
26:27


    You don’t know how deep it is…


Water dripped against the glass. Was it that time already?

The snap of Sammy’s underwear against her hip was a muscle memory for Gabe. He woke but didn’t open his eyes, lest she noticed his flinching and lip-biting. Be still. He wanted to look, but was that betraying? He didn’t know who he should be loyal to at this point.

Was it Sammy?

Was it Her?

Sammy — with her dark hair and her dark eyes. Was it Sammy? With her smell  and her pale skin and her small hands.

No. Perhaps it was Her, after all.

Who could ever make that choice? Certainly not him.

And there, on the edge of his bed, at six o’clock in the fucking morning. There she was.

Her. Her. She had no name. But she had a cigarette between her fingers and a silence that was deafening.

Gabe swallowed hard. “You’re back.”

She only lifted her brows in agreement.

“That’s soon.” He flailed for a moment, trying to find his words. “I mean…sooner than before.” His cellphone rang. It was Sammy.

“I…”

Her eyes said it — Don’t. And as Gabe was drowning, Her finger rolled the cigarette along her lower lip and smoke drifted up around her eyes. The call rang out. Correction: he let the call ring out.

Gabe couldn’t help but glance at the photo of he and Sammy that sat on the bench next to the bed. Again…Don’t.

Her fingers let the cigarette rest on the very edge of the bed as she slipped off her dress. Gabe hadn’t realised until now that it was yellow with dark blue flowers here and there. “What if she needs me?”

It was only a quick, questioning look that she shot at him before she licked her fingers and crept inside his pants. Sammy was all but forgotten at that point.

Cold noses touching just before her lips were on his. Her. Gabe almost lost himself before any of the points were won. Don’t, not just yet. Slow down. It’s not a race.

Her. She read his mind — as it were — and she was on top quick as a whip. There were never any words uttered other than his own. Her, the silent apparition. Gabe, the vessel filled with need.

“Don’t leave this time.” Was he begging Her?

She gripped the bed frame and took a breath, as if she existed. Her hips, so soft to the touch. Her neck, did it belong to him? That metallic smell of blood, always from her mouth, sometimes on her fingers.

Gabe started to feel it wash over him. “Please…”

The cellphone rang again. He knew he had to pick up this time.

“Sammy.”

She was in full business mode. “Yeah, did you see a yellow folder of papers somewhere this morning? Maybe next to the bed or in the bathroom?”

Gabe looked around and there she was, sans dress, pointing towards the kitchen.

“The kitchen bench?”

Sammy was flustered. “Could be. Just look for me, yeah?”

He walked out and saw the yellow folder right there on the bench. “Found it.”

“Fuck. Yes, can you skip through to Part 4.8 and just read out the first paragraph?”

Gabe felt Her behind him as he started to read. Her touch was cold and he shivered with goose pimples. “Please…”

Sammy coughed on the other end. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Shake it off.

A pause. “Okay, well… I’ll be late.”

Of course she would be. Gabe held his tongue.

“Maybe hit the yard. Those weeds are choking out everything. And that goddamn hole.”

Gabe walked back to the bedroom and looked out the window. Why did he think it would be gone? That hole. “I’ll fix it up. Dinner will be on the stove.” He hung up before either of them could say anything more.

~~~

Her cigarette balanced, precarious between her lips. Gabe felt her eyes on him as he pushed the mower back and forth, avoiding The Hole. “What are you looking at?” he asked her.

Of course, no response.

He pulled the engine off and stalked past. “I have to make dinner before it’s too late.”

~~~

Onions, tomatoes, bacon. Cooking off in the warm kitchen. Gabe could feel Her sitting behind him, cigarette still in Her hand. Smoke curled in the air.

He was dying to be with Her. Was the pain more than it was worth?

Now you’ll be in the ground with me.

~~~

The Hole took quite a while to fill. Gabe turned the faucet as far as it would go. At some point he had to boil the kettle and make a cup of tea. A biscuit. A small chair next to the damn Hole.

He turned back to look, and of course, there was the curling smoke. Her.

The yellow dress was intact as were her knowing eyes. The smile was something new.

“Is something funny?”

Never an answer from Her.

Gabe turned his attention back to the water. Why was it taking so long?

He returned to the kitchen and wrapped Sammy’s dinner into a plate to set in the oven. The sink was full and so he ran the water until it was hot.

Her hands encircled his chest and then lower.

“You’re still here?”

Of course she was.

~~~

The Hole called to him.

Everything turns to dirt. She pushed him back and it was so easy to fall into the water.

You dug the pit.

Her laugh was muffled. And then, for the first time, she spoke.

You can’t drown a ghost who knows how to swim.