One Tiny Secret - By Adam Kunz Page 0,2
bed. “So rumor has it you and your band are playing at Gunnar’s party this weekend.”
“Yep, you heard right,” Alex replies with a little less enthusiasm than I expect.
“What? Aren’t you excited? This is Gunnar Benson’s party.”
“Oh, she’s excited all right. But it’s the costume she has to wear for the show that has her panties all in a bunch,” Rory chimes in.
“I really dislike you sometimes,” Alex says to Rory, who just smirks at her.
“The costume can’t be that bad. It’s not like they’re going to make you wear one of those black spandex skeleton costumes or something, right?” I ask. Alex goes quiet and sends me a look of what I think is shock mixed with a tiny bit of disgust. “Wait…they’re actually going to make you wear that?”
“It sucks so much ass—you have no idea. Do you realize what this will look like in spandex?” she whines, motioning to her figure, which, for the record, is thin and only slightly curvy.
I can’t help but laugh the moment Rory begins to. Alex swiftly gives both of us love taps and then sulks before face-planting into the comforter. “It’s not funny, guys.”
“Uh, yeah, it kind of is,” Rory comments and then receives another slap on the leg. “Oh, speaking of costumes, what are you going as, Dani?”
“Little Red.”
“Ah, how classic of you. So, will this be old-school Little Red, or Red with a sexy twist?” he queries with a mischievous grin.
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see now, won’t you?”
“I bet you’re going as naughty Red,” Alex interjects while pushing my shoulder.
I giggle and notice Rory’s attention has shifted to the cardboard box on the floor.
“What’s all this stuff?” he asks, holding up some of my childhood things he’s drawn from the box. One of the items, a walkie-talkie, immediately catches my attention. A specific moment from my past involving that very device begins to seep into my mind.
I shake the memory away. “When did you get so nosey?” I ask before grabbing the walkie-talkie from him.
“He’s gay. He can’t help it, remember?” Alex states dryly.
“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Rory interjects while poking Alex with the tip of his shoe.
I laugh. “Oh, yeah, how could I forget that little detail?”
As I stare down at the little hand radio resting in my lap, the memories begin to invade again. Long after my bedtime, I used to chat with my neighbor, and once best friend, Janice, on this thing. We’d sit by our bedroom windows and stare out at each other and talk for hours. We’d chat about pretty much anything and everything. Janice used to get picked on relentlessly throughout most of elementary and middle school, which is why her mom pulled her out of the system and banished her to homeschool. Unfortunately, it only succeeded in alienating her even more. I vividly remember the day when her mother went all Carrie’s mom on me and called me a heathen and a bad influence on her daughter. She even banned Janice from ever hanging out with me again. Even though we’re still next-door neighbors, I rarely see Janice anymore.
“Earth to Dani,” Rory jokes, breaking into my thoughts. “You went all comatose on us for a second there while staring at that thing.”
“Oh, sorry. Got distracted, I guess.”
“I’ll say. Care to share?” Alex asks, giving me a little nudge.
“There’s not really much to share. This,” I say holding up the walkie, “is just something I used to mess around with. It’s nothing, really.”
“Uh-huh,” Alex says, clearly not convinced.
I roll my eyes and hand the walkie-talkie back to Rory so that he can put it, and the rest of the stuff he took out, back in the box.
“So, not to be rude or anything, but what exactly are you two doing here?”
“Truthfully?” Alex asks.
“Truthfully.”
“To, uh, copy your Algebra homework,” she says sheepishly.
“Really?”
Alex nods with pitiful pleading eyes.
I give her a withering stare. “Top right drawer of my desk. Red notebook. Just make sure I get it back tomorrow before school, all right?”
Alex squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says repeatedly in my ear. “I owe you, big time.” She jumps from the bed toward the desk and I turn to look at Rory. As I send him an interrogative look, he seems to know exactly what I’m about to ask.
“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. I just came here to chaperone Miss I-can’t-do-my-own-work,” he says while