The Secrets We Keep

“Nobody expects you to be the same Maddy.”


“I expected it, Alex. I tried, I really did. For you, for my parents, for everyone, I tried.” I took out the original drawing I’d made of Maddy three years ago and handed it to him. I’d looked for a half hour the other day before I finally found it underneath a pile of old Barbie dolls in my closet. “It’s not very good, but it’s yours.”

His eyes scanned mine for some sort of explanation. I swallowed hard and counted to three, then told him the truth. “I can’t be her anymore. It hurts too much to be her. I don’t want to spend my days trying to dress and act and talk like my sister. I want to spend them remembering her illogical hatred of my dog and her love of lavender-scented shampoo. I want to cry for her, miss her, and I want everyone to know just how much Maddy being gone hurts, does that make sense?”

He shook his head, the shocking knowledge of what I was saying finally settling in as he whispered my name. “Ella?”

I nodded and took a quick look at Jenna. She had her hand on Alex’s arm as if somehow it was her support he needed. “She’s right. You deserve better than I can give you.”

Jenna’s grin widened at my comment and she moved in closer to Alex, as if telling me who owned him now.

“I know you think Jenna is what you want. What you need,” I continued. “But she’s not. Trust me, she’ll take everything good in you and destroy it and Maddy wouldn’t want that.”

“How dare you—” Jenna began to argue, no doubt to tell me how pathetic and wrong I was.

I cut her off. “You, I have nothing to say to. You’re cold and calculating and not worth my time.”

I walked away, relieved that I was almost done. Molly sat there watching me, her smile genuine. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she said.

I nodded. It felt great to finally tell the truth, to lay into Jenna after years of listening to her belittle me. “But it is you I owe the biggest apology to.”

“No you don’t. I get why you kept your distance.” Molly kicked the chair out across from her and motioned for me to sit down. “But none of that matters now.”

I slid the chair back in and watched as the hope slowly drained from her face. She had thought I was going to sit down and be her friend, forget about the other end of the table and stick with her. I would’ve had I not already made up my mind.

“There is a seat at that table if ever you want it,” I said as I pointed to the table Josh and I always sat at. “I know it won’t make up for what happened to you last year, but I thought perhaps some real friends and an apology would be a start.”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand,” Molly said.

“I didn’t either until last night. You were up for the co-captain spot on the field hockey team. You were good, probably better than Maddy. The other spot was going to—”

“Jenna,” she said, finishing my sentence.

“If you were hungover or sick, then you’d miss the mandatory Sunday practice and probably lose your chance of being co-captain. At the very least, you’d play like crap for the first quarter and then Coach would have no choice but to pull you out.”

Her eyes darted between me and Jenna, and I swear I saw a flash of understanding in her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”


“Maddy slipped something into your drink that Saturday night. She was trying to make you sick, figured you wouldn’t be able to make practice the next day. I don’t think she ever imagined they’d test the team, I can’t believe my sister—”

She was staring at me as if I were a stranger, as if the words pouring out of my mouth were somehow not mine.

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