Free Read Novels Online Home

Six Little Secrets by Katlyn Duncan (1)

Zoe Walsh dropped her arms on the dark wooden table, tugging at the long sleeves of her gray and white striped shirt. Her shoulders relaxed for the first time that morning. Her foot bounced on the floor as she reached into her bag for her breakfast. She opened the foil wrapping of her Pop Tart and ate half of the sweet pastry before the door to the library opened. She dropped the tart into her lap. She knew better than most that food wasn’t allowed in the library, even during off hours.

Mr. Curtis, the forty-year-old history teacher and Varsity football coach, lumbered past, nodding his full head of caramel brown hair at her in greeting.

‘Morning,’ he said, furiously typing on his cell phone, looking more like half of the kids in the school than a serious teacher. She smiled to herself. That was his way. He was the ‘cool’ teacher. The one who let most infractions slide and allowed Zoe to attend Saturday detention with no questions asked and nothing to atone for.

It was the one place she could find peace. And while sometimes she shared the space with one or two delinquents, most Saturdays were spent alone with Mr. Curtis. He did his work in the library office, and she did hers out in the library, at least for most of the time. After Dad had passed, her grades had slipped to where she almost had to repeat freshman year. Now she was nearly at the end of her junior year, coasting by in the upper fifty percentile of her grade. She was happy there. She preferred to fly under the radar. At least with those grades, she had a shot at getting out of Pioneer Haven. At least from a distance, there would be an excuse for her mom ignoring her.

‘Good morning,’ she said.

‘We have some company today,’ he said.

Her chest deflated, yet she tried to keep the disappointment from her face.

After Mr. Curtis had walked into the office, Zoe went back to her food. She knew he’d turn a blind eye, and she was starving. Since Mom came home early the night before, Zoe skipped dinner and hid in her room. That morning, she rushed out of the house before her mom woke up, only having a few minutes to grab breakfast on her way out to the school.

Movement from the back of the room caught Zoe’s attention. She turned to see Victor, the janitor, rolling a vacuum cleaner on the second floor of the library. One of the maintenance closets was up there. He lifted the vacuum as if it were a feather and came down the stairs.

‘You again?’ he asked with a crooked smile.

He came up next to her. Zoe had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. He was the tallest man she’d ever seen. The hem of his pants rested a good inch above his shoes. Would it have killed Principal Killian to buy a bigger uniform for him?

‘I can’t seem to stay out of trouble,’ she said, smiling back. If the idiots at her school stopped to get to know the men who cleaned up after them, they’d realize the janitorial staff were good people, just trying to make a living. She tried to be as friendly as possible to them, when she could, to make up for the crap they had to deal with on a daily basis. Not all teens were entitled jerks.

‘How’s your daughter?’ Zoe asked. Whenever she stayed late at school to complete her homework, Victor always made sure to check on her. He had a daughter around her age, but she went to a different school. Zoe thought that was a blessing. If she heard the trash-talk from the kids about her own dad, she would have wanted to go to a different school. Zoe guessed it had been Victor’s decision too.

‘She’s on her own a lot lately, working on some big project for school,’ he said.

‘I know how that is,’ Zoe said, indicating her backpack. She was well ahead on a lot of her projects for the remainder of the semester since she had a lot of time to herself.

Victor nodded and headed out of the room. ‘Have a good day, Zoe.’

‘You too.’ Zoe turned back to her breakfast.

She took one bite just as a voice, clear as day, appeared on the other side of the door. She nearly choked on the chunk of her Pop Tart. The voice was one that blathered on and on every day at school, and now it was in the one place Zoe thought she could have peace. It belonged to the one person who could ruin her day.

Zoe closed her eyes and wished the girl away. She sat up straighter and listened. She didn’t hear the voice again. Had she imagined it?

The double doors flew open, and Zoe jumped, her eyes springing open as her worst nightmare walked through the door.

Jackie King.

Cheerleader. One of the ones that volunteered to be thrown into the air to perform some crazy death-defying flips. Her record was three flips in a row. A fact she told anyone who was within earshot every chance she could.

‘This sucks. Sucks! Sucks!’ Jackie whined as she sashayed into the room. Her signature ponytail of tight, springy black curls bounced with each step. She’d exchanged her cheer uniform for an outfit that resembled the tight cropped long-sleeve shirt and skorts that she wore on a daily basis. As if they needed reminding of her ‘status’.

‘Get over yourself,’ said Q, the class troublemaker, sauntering in behind her.

Zoe tried hard not to roll her eyes at his bravado. He was the picture of a rebel with his shoulder-length greasy hair and leather jacket. She knew for a fact that his parents had enough money to buy him shampoo and he’d never ridden a motorcycle in his life. Zoe sat behind him in history. His hands were always impeccably clean.

Then came Cece.

How many other kids were coming to torture her today? If she knew, she would have skipped Saturday detention altogether this week. She glanced at the office where Mr. Curtis had his back to them. Why hadn’t Mr. Curtis prepared her for this? It would have been nice to receive a warning.

Cece straightened the hem of her fuzzy light blue sweater—which most likely cost more than Zoe’s entire wardrobe—while simultaneously typing on her phone with her free hand. Even for a Saturday, not a hair was out of place in her short pin-straight bob.

Teddy James stumbled into the room, balancing three textbooks in his hands. His backpack was bursting at the seams. Zoe had a feeling Teddy would roll into the auditorium in a wheelchair for his valedictorian speech if he kept up with lugging around his ridiculously heavy backpack. His brunette hair stuck out at all angles as if he’d rolled out of bed and into the library.

She squirmed a little in her seat as their eyes met for a brief moment. She was the first to turn away.

And the last was Holly Pickard. She’d arrived at PHHS several months ago. She didn’t waste any time getting to know everyone in Zoe’s class, mostly the boys. Zoe guessed it was the long blonde hair and big blue eyes that pulled the guys in. At least that was the starting point. Holly didn’t seem to have any trouble finding a place to sit in the cafeteria. She made more of an impact with Zoe’s classmates than Zoe did throughout all the years in school.

These were five kids Zoe never saw in the same room together unless it was a school assembly. And even then, they were in completely separate groups. Other than Q, none of them seemed the type to get into enough trouble to earn a detention. So why were they all there?

The others gave Zoe a once over as she did them, but no one greeted her. At least that part of their relationship hadn’t changed.

Less than a minute later, Mr. Curtis came into the room and glanced at Zoe. She wouldn’t get the privacy she wanted this Saturday. And that sucked, but it was better than revealing the real reason for being there.

Instead, she focused on the decorated box resting in her teacher’s hands.

What’s he doing with that? Zoe wondered.

‘Take your seats around the table,’ Mr. Curtis said, plopping the box in the middle of one of the long six-foot tables usually reserved for group projects.

Zoe got up from her seat at one of the smaller tables and shouldered her bag, sticking to the back of the group. She waited until everyone else took their seat before choosing the last empty one between Teddy and Holly.

Holly twirled a chunk of her blonde hair around her finger while staring at Mr. Curtis. The neon-pink fingernail polish was striking against the golden strands.

Teddy offered Zoe a small smile. It was the most interaction they had had in about a year. Zoe passed it off as just a circumstance of their current predicament.

Q turned his chair around before sitting.

‘Please sit the correct way, Quentin,’ Mr. Curtis said.

‘It’s Q,’ Q said, not moving from his seat. Q gave every teacher a hard time which he thought was hilarious but most of the time was disruptive and made class go by so much slower than necessary.

‘My apologies,’ Mr. Curtis said, smiling. ‘As you are well aware we’re all here for four hours. As one of the newer teachers in school, Principal Killian selected me to run Saturday detentions for this semester.’ He looked at each of the kids as he gave his introduction. Everyone except Zoe, who’d heard it before.

‘Our same principal requested that I put you all to work this weekend since there are more of you than usual,’ Mr. Curtis continued. ‘If you recall, we held the underage-drinking chain event this week.’

He ceremoniously lifted the box and hundreds of white strips of paper piled on the desk in front of them. He leaned toward the next table, grabbing six staplers and two full boxes of staples and placed those in front of them too.

All last week, during lunch, students were encouraged by the student council to pledge not to drink. Three years ago, two of the more popular seniors died in a drunk driving car accident. Sure, Zoe felt sorry for their families, but she didn’t drink. And every day she was bombarded by the peppy Student Council members to sign a promise to continue with the same lifestyle she already chose. The Student Council wanted to beat the length of the chain from the previous year which meant they were extra aggressive with promises.

‘Your task for today is to create the chain from the promises,’ Mr. Curtis said. ‘It will be strung up in the cafeteria on Monday, so you all need to finish this by the end of the day.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Jackie said.

‘Who did you expect to do this, Ms. King?’ Mr. Curtis asked. ‘Weren’t you on the committee?’

‘Yeah, but the freshmen were supposed to do the stapling.’

‘Well, now you can take part in the rest of the project,’ he said. ‘Unless that’s a problem?’

Jackie huffed loudly but said nothing else.

‘Listen, guys,’ he said, squatting next to the table, dropping down to their level as if they were members of his team. ‘Principal Killian needs this done today. On any other Saturday I’d let it slide, but if you help me out here, I’ll help you out.’

‘Can we get out earlier if we finish quickly?’ Teddy asked.

Mr. Curtis considered that. ‘Maybe.’ He stood up and clapped his hands together. ‘So, if there are no other questions, you can get started,’ he added with a smirk.

Zoe squirmed in her seat as Mr. Curtis rested his eyes on Jackie as if waiting for her to talk back.

‘What if I have to go to the bathroom?’ Cece asked, dropping her giant purse next to her chair.

‘Why? Do you have your period?’ Q asked.

Jackie pulled a face.

‘Ew!’ Cece whined.

And Holly groaned.

Zoe cringed on the inside. Q knew how to cross a line.

Q sat back, grinning at the rest of them.

‘You’re each allowed one five-minute bathroom break,’ Mr. Curtis said, ignoring Q’s crude comment. ‘Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be, okay?’

Cece let out an exasperated groan.

‘And one more thing,’ Mr. Curtis said, placing the now-empty box in front of them. ‘Cell phones. Put them in the box.’

‘No friggin’ way,’ Jackie said.

‘What if there’s an emergency?’ Teddy asked.

‘Your parents are aware you’re here. They can call the school if something is wrong. This isn’t my rule.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ Cece said.

Mr. Curtis sighed.

Zoe wished they would stop fighting him. Didn’t they see he was doing his best? He seemed as annoyed as she was. She doubted he’d expected such a big group this week.

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before ending up here. Phones, now, please,’ Mr. Curtis said.

Zoe dropped hers into the box first, hoping the others would follow without complaint. Mr. Curtis briefly nodded at her before settling his gaze on the others.

The rest complied, but Holly and Jackie hesitated. Jackie hugged the phone to her as if it were a lifeline.

‘You first,’ Holly challenged.

Jackie grumbled and tossed her phone in, then Holly did the same.

Zoe exhaled, not sure why she’d held her breath. Had she expected a bigger fight? Mr. Curtis held power over them today, so it was in everyone’s best interest to do as he asked. She doubted anyone wanted another detention.

Well, anyone except for her.

Mr. Curtis lifted the empty box from the table. ‘I’ll be in the office right over there if you need me. But I suggest you get to work. This will take you until the end of detention.’

Mr. Curtis went into the office, which was partially blocked by two large bookshelves.

Jackie passed out the staplers while Cece started sorting the slips of paper in front of them.

Zoe watched her teacher dump the phones into a filing cabinet and then lock the drawer. Then he settled into his chair and turned toward the computer. Today hadn’t started off as planned. But if they finished early, there was a possibility of getting it back on track.

‘I can’t believe that loser took our phones,’ Jackie muttered. ‘Loser’ was her word of choice. Zoe had heard that word directed at everyone who wasn’t in Jackie’s cheer clique.

‘How will your little friends survive without you?’ Q asked with a sneer.

‘Shut up, loser,’ Jackie said.

‘Ooh,’ Q jeered. ‘I’m shaking in my boots.’

She looked down at his feet. ‘Hideous boots.’

Q eyed her for a moment before scanning the others at the table.

Zoe focused on the slips, making a neat pile in front of her.

‘How did you end up in here, princess?’ Q asked Cece.

‘That’s none of your business,’ she said and glanced behind her at Mr. Curtis. ‘Don’t talk to me.’

Q let out a low whistle. ‘Touchy. It must have been something terrible for you all to get here. I normally spend my Saturdays alone.’ Q leaned back and pressed his head into his hands, giving off the appearance that he was cool with the whole situation.

Zoe narrowed her eyes. She’d attended detention for the past eight weeks. She hadn’t been on the roster, but her butt was in that same chair at eight in the morning every single Saturday. Q hadn’t been. Why was Q trying to appear like he had?

Zoe wanted to say something to knock him down a few pegs, but then Q would probably hound her on why she was here today too. So she kept her mouth shut.

‘That’s something to be proud of,’ Cece muttered.

‘We should get started,’ Teddy said.

Zoe glanced at Teddy who was already hard at work. He had a small chain of paper circles in front of him. He kept out of the conversation. That was his way. It had been ever since they’d met in kindergarten. He never got into trouble which was why it was so surprising to see him in detention.

‘You’re right,’ Holly said, pulling a smattering of slips in front of her. ‘I don’t want to be here all day.’

‘Mr. Curtis never promised we’d get out early,’ Cece said, turning her stapler until it sat right at the edge of the table.

‘I’d rather take that chance,’ Jackie said. ‘We have an early practice tomorrow, and I want to prepare.’

Zoe shook her head slightly. How much preparation did a cheerleader actually need?

She lifted a slip of paper and touched the two ends together until it was circular then stapled them.

One down, hundreds more to go…

She’d completed over a dozen of them before she took a break and flexed her hand. Apparently, Mr. Curtis had found the most ancient staplers in the school. Pressing down on it over and over made her hand hurt.

As if he heard her thoughts about him, Mr. Curtis strode out of the office, and Zoe sat up straighter, grabbing a piece of paper, appearing busy and unfazed by her sore hand.

Everyone looked up at him.

‘I’m going to make a quick phone call. I’m trusting you all to stay seated. Don’t force my hand in giving you another detention, okay, guys?’

‘Can you grab me a soda while you’re out there?’ Q asked with a smirk.

Mr. Curtis ignored him.

When their teacher left the room, the sound of staplers ceased to fill the space.

So much for working together to get out early.