The Secret

Hey, can you keep a secret? 

I grinned slightly, wondering just what juicy secret this random lady from the internet was going to share with me. Hopefully, it was some kind of declaration of love for my brother, the actual owner of this computer that I was currently hijacking, which I could later embarrass him with. 

Sure will, I typed. So what is it?

Her responses shot out like bullets, each one only a few seconds apart. Somehow, I knew her fingers were flying across the keys with almost lightning speed. Maybe she was going as fast as lightning. Maybe she’d become an entire storm. 

He got paint into my hair. It was red. I remember that. I was mad at him for a little bit, but I couldn’t stay mad for long. At least, that’s how I remember it. Who knows? Maybe he turned me into a fiery redhead for the whole day. 

I’d shoot hoops at recess, and he’d wait under the basket and return them for me. 

His nose always bled at recess. I always wondered about that, but I never asked. It was something normal for him. 

He always sat at lunch with me. Even when Jerri Parkson wouldn’t. 

We used to be next-door neighbors. Back in second grade, I think. We used to blow bubbles and eat popsicles. It kind of sucked because I’d always end up getting a bubble or two on my popsicle. The taste of bubbles. I used to hate it. But I don’t now. 

I stared at the computer screen. Holy shit. 

She remembered too? 

“Bill!” she screeched after I accidently dumped a few droplets of red paint into her hair. She whirled around to face me, her face beet red and her nose scrunched up in anger. A few seconds passed, before the mad scowl disappeared, and she turned back to her artwork. “You’re lucky I’m not an angry kind of person,” she said, but I knew she was grinning. 

Sometimes, I lie awake at night, thinking about nothing but that grin. 

“Darn it!” she cried as she missed yet another shot. 

I tried not to smile as I tossed her back the ball, but I must have failed because she scrunched up her nose at me. “What?” I asked innocently. 

She only stuck her tongue out at me. 

I wondered if she continued to shoot hoops without me. Somehow, the thought made me green with envy. 

I clutched a tissue to my nose, as red was starting to spread. Why does it always have to happen at recess, where everyone can see? 

“You okay?” she asked as she approached me from behind. 

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Alright.”

I never did tell her the reason why I had so many nosebleeds, did I? 

I saw her let out a big huff before sitting down, her eyes focused on something. I followed her gaze and saw Jerri had sat down at another table. I took my place beside her, and she munched angrily on an apple. She didn’t say anything. She almost never did. 

I didn’t either. I figured I didn’t need to tell her I wouldn’t ever leave her. 

It’s a good thing I didn’t, in the end. Considering I did end up leaving her. 

We sat on the porch. She was sitting on the porch, sucking on her popsicle. Every now and then, she made a face, which I’m sure mirrored my own. I swung my legs back and forth. 

“I used to not like summer very much,” she said after a few minutes. 

“Why?” 

“I usually don’t get to see my friends 'till school starts again.”

“You live in town, don’t you?”

“Outside. In the middle of nowhere. Well, down a lane with some other houses. But none of them have kids. Well, one of them does, but I don’t know her. And Mom didn’t always live here.”

“Yeah, but that’s not true anymore. Now, you live right next to me.”

“I hope we’ll always stay neighbors. I like having my friend for a neighbor.”

That was so long ago. I remember thinking way back when if I’d ever taste bubbles again. So far, I haven’t. 

I wished I could remember more, but there’s only a few memories, and even those are hazy. 

There was another ding from the computer, and I realized she was messaging my brother again. Probably had to take a break, and now she’s ready to fire bullets again.

I can’t remember all the memories we shared together, not like I used to. I still think about him, though. 

Nine years later. God. 

I thought I’d forgotten about him. Moved on. 

But then I saw him when I was in sixth grade at my grandma’s church. We barely talked though. 

“Hey, Bill,” a familiar voice greeted from behind me. 

I turned, and like a dream, there she was. Her eyes were cast down, not necessarily on the floor, but just away from my eyes. I’m sure mine were too. I said hi, too, but that was it, I think. I couldn’t think of anything else to say, other than the obvious, “I really really miss you and I hope we see each other again - and oh, by the way I’m secretly in love with you”. Well, there was, but there was no way I could get the guts up to say it. 

But then I thought about him again after me and Austin broke up. Austin was my first and only boyfriend. 

A spike of jealousy rose up within me, and I had to suppress it to avoid smashing my fist through the computer. After the envy drained away, I was left with a deep sorrow. 

Maybe if he’d stayed, we would’ve dated too. 

Maybe I’d taste bubbles again. 

The sweet taste of bubbles...

I drew his name on Notability several times. Over and over. I said I loved him several times. 

I was just sitting on the couch with a pen and paper when my hand started moving on its own. I wasn’t paying much attention and was just zoned out. But when I returned to reality, I realized I’d written her name over and over again. 

Before he left, I asked Jerri Parkson if she was dating him. She said no. I could’ve asked him. But I didn’t. I wish I did, though. 

Wait, what? I reread the message, disbelieving. She’d wanted to ask me? 

“Hey, Alexander, you’re not, uh, dating anybody, are you?” I asked him in the most discreet manner I could manage, which wasn’t much. “Like, um, Sandra?” 

“No,” he replied with a confused look. 

“Okay.”

I could’ve asked her. But I didn’t. 

I wish I did, though. 

Damn, I wish he was here. 

I think I still love him after all this time. 

I was just doodling in my notepad, and after a while, my randomized faces began to morph into a specific one. “It’s been nine years, but I think the feelings never went away,” I said softly. 

Billie Jean. You know, after that MJ song. 

“Hey, Billie Jean!” she called from the top of the bridge before throwing a ball at me. I threw my arms up and somehow managed to catch it. “You turd!” she cried. 

“Don’t call me Billie Jean, then!” I cried back. 

But to be honest, I actually liked it. Mainly because it’d come from her. 

I used to call him that. Sometimes, I say that aloud and wish it could just bring him here. That’s stupid, huh? 

No, not stupid at all. Hell, I’d wish for the same thing. In fact, I think I have. 

I want the taste of bubbles back. 

I want him. 

I want him back. 

I want to be his friend again. 

I want our friendship back. 

I want Billie Jean. 

I want Bill Nayce. 

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and I wiped it away. Two came in its place, though, and soon, my face was flooded. I sniffed and wiped them all away once they stopped coming. 

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I want Sandra Lawrence. I had typed the sentence and was about to send it, but I hesitated. I ended up deleting it. I’m Bill Nayce. Delete. 

I sighed in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair. “Damn it, I’m hopeless,” I muttered. 

I’m sorry for loading all this onto you. I just needed to tell somebody. I needed to tell somebody other than me about my feelings. About how I’m hopelessly pining after a boy I haven’t seen in nine years even though it’s stupid. 

It’s not stupid, I typed. I hit send before I could even think twice about it. 

A few moments passed. Then she came back with, Thanks. You’re a cool guy...uh, can I have your name? You know, other than RandomBoiii01?

Bill, I typed and sent without thinking. The bubble that indicated she was in the middle of typing popped up. Billie Jean, I quickly typed. 

The bubble immediately disappeared. It stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, You’re a jackass. This isn’t funny. 

Sandy Cheeks. 

“What are you doing?” Sandra asked as she peered over my shoulder. I was sitting on the bleachers while everyone else was on the gymnasium floor, playing in one form or another. 

“Drawing,” I replied. 

“Drawing what? I can’t tell.”

“Your sandy cheeks.”

She punched me in the arm. “I’ll kick your butt, Billie Jean!” 

“And I’ll kick yours, Sandy Cheeks!” Another punch. This one actually hurt a little. “Ow!” 

“You know you shouldn’t insult someone with a softball arm,” Sandra said haughtily. 

I only smiled, deciding to let her have this one. Besides, I didn’t want to end up telling her that I had actually been drawing our two heads together. 

You’re shitting me. 

No, you’re the one shitting. Out of your sandy cheeks. 

You’re lucky I’m not beside you. Otherwise, I’d punch you with my softball arm. A few moments passed. So, we’ve been talking this whole time? 

No, I replied. This is my brother’s computer. I hijacked it a few minutes ago. 

So...you saw what I said. 

Yeah. 

God. This is so freakin’ embarrassing. 

Um...Sandra...can you keep a secret?

Secret? Yeah, I guess. What is it? 

I have a crush on someone. For a long time now. I don’t want anyone to know about it. Only you. 

A few minutes passed. I thought perhaps that she had secretly gone as green with jealousy as I had when I’d heard about her first boyfriend. I was about to tell her just who it was, when she finally responded. 

I won’t tell. 

You swear it? 

OMFG, I’m going to take a plane to Ohio and punch you in the freakin’ face if you don’t just tell me already!!!

Her name’s Sandra Lawrence. 

What? 

She’s also known as Sandy Cheeks. 

Suddenly, my brother’s phone started ringing. I picked it up and saw Sandra was trying to facetime me. Huh. I guess she and my bro swapped numbers. I swiped and I found myself staring at a nineteen-year-old version of the Sandra I’d known. Her hair had turned from dark blonde to brown. Her sapphire eyes were still as sparkling blue as ever, and they were widened now. 

“Oh, wow, you got real hot.” 

Her face then turned beet red, and she started stammering. Whatever I was going to say went out of mind as I entered a trance-like state where all I could focus on was how cute and endearing her continuous stammering was to me. 

She finally stopped talking, took a deep breath, and said in a calm voice, “Did you…” Her brows knit together as she hesitated, letting her sentence trail a bit before continuing. “Did you mean...what you said?”

“Did you?” 

Sandra scrunched her nose up at me. “Hey, I asked you first, Billie Jean!” She then started laughing softly, running her hand through her hair. “Wow,” she muttered. “How the hell does something like this happen? You don’t see a friend for nine years, and then you see him again and act like nothing changed. How the hell is that possible?”

I shrugged. Then a thought occurred to me, and I replied, “I guess it’s as possible as liking the taste of bubbles.” 

Sandra grinned slightly, a little bit of color flooding into her cheeks. “You know, I think you might be right.”

“Anyway, will you keep it?” I asked. 

“Keep what?”

“My secret. Can you keep my secret?”

She blinked a few times in confusion before the realization dawned on her. Sandy Cheeks then grinned. “Sure will, Billie Jean.”