Ethan's Secret (James Madison Series Book 2) Read online

Page 2


  “Morning, Dad,” I said, pouring myself another glass of cranberry juice.

  “Bruno got you again, didn't he?”

  I smiled back. “He keeps doing that, I swear to God, I'm going to turn him into a pair of slippers.”

  “Mmm hmm,” he said, still engrossed in whatever was on Page Three. “You ready to start your final year of middle school?”

  “So ready,” I replied, sucking the juicy flesh off an orange peel. “High school's gotta be more exciting than anything that'll happen to me this year.”

  He looked at me. “Like the man said, Kel, 'be careful what you wish for'.”

  “Yes, but sometimes you wish for something amazing and that's exactly what you get.” I fluttered my eyelids at him. “It'll be great to be back with all the girls again.”

  I'd seen my three best friends over the summer, of course, but there was always a certain electricity only present when the four of us got together, which we hadn't since May. I'd been looking forward to that all summer. “Anything interesting in the news?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, taking another sip from his coffee mug. “That import-export guy we arrested two months ago is finally going on trial.”

  I looked at the headline, which announced in big bold letters, 'JURY SELECTION IN LYNCH TRIAL TO BEGIN TODAY.'

  I certainly remembered the case. It was one of the most high-profile cases of my dad's career. He'd worked so much overtime during those months that I'd had to fend for myself most of those nights. I didn't mind, but the timing sucked because it coincided with my big brother Tom making arrangements to start college several hundred miles away. I was proud of my Dad having led the investigation to a successful conclusion, because it meant having him back home in the evenings.

  “Great,” I said. “Are you going to be called to testify?”

  “Probably not,” he said, shaking his head. “We turned everything over to the District Attorney's office the day we slapped the cuffs on him. There's still a lot to do before he's convicted, but thankfully, other cops will be doing most of the legwork.”

  “Awesome,” I said semi-interestedly. “Did the D'Backs win?”

  He beamed. “Three to two in ten innings.”

  “Yay!” I said, gulping down the last bite. “The sun is shining, the D'Backs are winning, and all's right with the world.” I stood up, transferred my empty plate to the kitchen sink, and was just about to leave the room when Dad spoke again.

  “Um … aren't you forgetting something?”

  My eyes widened, and I ran to him, flinging my arms around his neck. “Have a great day protecting and serving!” I planted a big kiss on his cheek.

  He kissed my cheek right back, his thick mustache tickling me as always. “Go kick some eighth-grade butt, K-Bear,” he said with a big smothering hug.

  “Will do, Daddy Bear,” I said cheerfully. Within seconds, I had grabbed my backpack and walked out the door, heading for the bus stop.

  For the first time, I'm going to school a teenager, I thought as I strode down the sidewalk. Some cute boy who's not a total loser has got to notice me this year. April can't be the only one in our group with something to brag about.

  * * *

  “So it's really true?” I asked, sighing heavily. “You and Trey Wilson are a 'thing' now?”

  “As of last week,” April said. “We started talking at Amelia Lang's pool party last June, and just like that, he asked me out.”

  “I know, it's all you've talked about all summer.” I glared at her indignantly. “Hold on a sec … you two have been boyfriend and girlfriend for a week, and you're just telling me now? We talk, like, every day!”

  “I know,” she said. “I wanted to wait till school started so I could tell all you guys at once.”

  “I hate you.”

  She smiled. “No, you don't.”

  “No, I don't.” I sighed again. “That's … awesome.”

  “I know! Can you believe it?” She looked like she was about to burst.

  I nodded. “Why wouldn't I believe it? He was on the soccer team, and you're a track star. Plus, you're my best friend, and I know you've had the hots for him since last year. But …”

  “But what?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

  Before I could answer, Bree and Penny came over and sat down at our table in the cafeteria. Penelope Collins had only been at James Madison Middle School for a year, and she'd been part of our group for almost the same amount of time. Bree had been the first one to not treat Penny as the “new girl,” and Penny had pretty much been glued to Bree's side ever since.

  I was glad to have Penny around. She'd filled a large void in our group after the twins, Jessy and Riley, moved to Pennsylvania right after sixth grade when their mother got remarried. She had a very pleasant, carefree personality, which was complemented by her beautiful, wavy, shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair.

  “Hey, guys,” Penny said.

  “Hey, Penny. Hey, Bree,” I replied.

  “Are we interrupting?” Bree asked.

  “Not at all,” I said. “I was just about to tell April that having a boyfriend in high school is just asking for trouble.”

  Penny's eyes widened. “Really, April? You and Trey Wilson are a 'thing' now?”

  April nodded. “Since last week.”

  A glare crept over Bree's face. “You've been boyfriend and girlfriend for a week and you didn't say anything? I hate you!”

  I grinned. “No, you don't.”

  Bree also grinned. “No, I don't. But still …”

  April gave a dreamy smile. “I think he could be The One.”

  Bree, Penny and I all looked at each other, and we simultaneously rolled our eyes.

  “Hey, I saw that,” said April with a frown. “What's your problem?”

  “No problem,” I said. “It's just that every time some cute guy smiles at you, you think he's 'The One'.”

  April looked horrified. “Oh, that is so not true!”

  “Remember Warren Simms?” Penny asked.

  “Puh-leez,” April said. “That perv wouldn't be 'The One' if he was the only 'one' on Earth.”

  “Kyle Crawfish?” Bree said, smirking.

  April made a sour face. “Craw-FORD, Bree. And I was only nice to him because he's friends with Eric Springer.”

  “Aaaaannnnd then there's Eric Springer,” I said, grinning mischievously.

  April opened her mouth, looking like she was about to object again, but then her shoulders slumped. “All right, you got me there,” she said, smiling. We all laughed.

  April was an awesome friend. She was one of the smartest people I knew, and the first to offer help when you needed it, but she'd always been self-conscious because of her weight. Ever since she hit her growth spurt and got herself into great physical shape, she'd gotten a lot more of the boys' attention. The boys were now looking at her for all the wrong reasons and didn't appreciate the smart girl within. She was fast and strong, and she was lucky enough to be more … developed than most of the other girls. She could easily pass for fifteen, possibly sixteen if she wore makeup. Her problem was that she hadn't yet learned how to be more selective with her crushes. But that's why she has the three of us.

  “I'm not saying Trey's a bad guy, April,” I said. “I'm just saying that going out with a freshman is dangerous, is all. He's surrounded by high-school girls all day long, and you can't be there to watch him. You really think he's going to tell everyone in his class that he's dating someone still in middle school?”

  “He only lives five blocks from me, Kelse. We'll see each other plenty.”

  “And your parents are okay with that?” asked Bree.

  “As long as I keep my grades up and don't miss any practices, they're cool.”

  Smiling, I reached into my backpack, pulled out a thick black marker, and handed it to April. “Then you'd better take this.”

  April took the marker with a puzzled look on her face. “What's this for?”

  “For t
hat,” I said, pointing at her backpack, which was on top of the table next to her lunch-tray.

  We all turned to look at April's backpack, where “A.H. + E.S.” was still proudly displayed at the center of a perfectly-drawn heart. April's face turned as red as a raspberry.

  Immediately, April uncapped the marker and started scribbling over the heart design. “Thanks, Detective,” she said. Penny and Bree just chuckled. Thank God she's got the three of us.

  * * *

  Right after lunch and recess was Mr. McCann's fifth-period Algebra class. I'd heard good things about him; he was like everybody's favorite uncle … you know, the goofy one that never really grew up, who doesn't visit as much as you want him to. He was cheerful most of the time, and even laughed when the students gave him silly nicknames, no matter how unflattering they were. By a happy coincidence, April, Bree and I were all in the same class. We made sure to immediately find seats near each other.

  Mr. McCann came into the room, and the class giggled at his rainbow-colored wig, oversized glasses and clown nose. “Welcome to the exciting world of Algebra!” he said, way too enthusiastically to be serious. “Can I get a boo-yah?” Everyone smiled.

  “Boo-yah,” a few less-than-enthusiastic voices replied.

  He frowned. “Oh, come on, guys,” he said, holding his hands over his head, “can I get a boo-yah?”

  “Boo-yah,” came the reply, only just slightly louder than before.

  “Well,” Mr. McCann said, smiling broadly. “We'll work on that.” He picked up a clipboard from his desk. “I'm Roger McCann, but you can call me 'McClown' if you want … that's what my mom does!”

  A few more kids laughed out loud, including me. This might be fun after all.

  “And now that you know who I am, let me get to know who you are!”

  He went down an alphabetical list of students, all of which I knew; when I moved from Denver to Phoenix three years ago, I figured if I knew everyone's name, it would help me fit in better. It worked like a charm. Well, that and that other thing.

  “Kelsey Callahan?” called Mr. McCann.

  “Here,” I said, raising my hand.

  Everyone knew me, and pretty much everyone got along with me. My showdown with a quartet of eighth-grade bullies three years ago was still talked about to this day, but had been magnified to almost ridiculous proportions over time. I occasionally had to remind kids that I didn't karate-chop the bullies into a bloody pulp, and my superhero cape was folded neatly in the back of my closet. Recalling that event also made me think of Joshua and Eve, and the friendship I'd built with them despite being three years younger.

  “April Hendricks?”

  “Here,” April replied.

  I looked down at April's backpack, which had a huge ugly black splotch on it where the heart-design had been only an hour ago. I hoped that April's latest romance went a little better than the last one; finding out that Eric had secretly been sending love-texts to Elizabeth Cave at the time he'd been going with April required two hours of hand-holding while April cried on my shoulder. I really didn't want a repeat of that afternoon.

  “Bryanna Rodgers?”

  “Here,” said Bree.

  Bree was like the sister I never had. She had short blond hair and a pretty face that to this day reminded me of some kind of elfin creature from a storybook tale. The two of us had managed to stay away from the whole 'boys' fiasco thus far; not because boys hadn't shown an interest, but because the boys that had done so had little to no appeal for either of us … or, at least, that's what I told myself. When you have a cop for a father, you have to pick your prospective crushes VERY carefully.

  “Darryl Wyckoff?”

  “Here,” said a boy on the far side of the room.

  Roll call is soooo boring. But I knew Darryl was dead-last on the alphabetical list of students, so at least now we could get on with class.

  “And finally … Ethan Zimmer.”

  I sat bolt upright. I looked at April and Bree with a puzzled look on my face. They wore equally puzzled expressions, and were shrugging their shoulders. We were obviously all thinking the same thing: Who the heck is …?

  “Ethan Zimmer?” Mr. McCann repeated after a long pause.

  “Uh, here,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  I turned around and looked behind me. Sitting in the back row was a cute boy that I'd never seen before. He had dark brown spiky hair and wore a black hoodie, a black Metallica T-shirt and black jeans. I locked eyes with him for a few seconds, and then he looked away.

  I stared at him for a few moments. Ethan tried to act nonchalant as he watched Mr. McCann, surrounded by thirty total strangers.

  I saw something during that brief moment of eye contact. Something sad. Something scary. Something … dangerous. In that instant, I felt a surge of blood rush right to my head.

  Interesting …

  * * *

  For the rest of the day, I thought about Ethan, trying my best to keep my thoughts hidden from April and Bree. I watched as he made his way from Algebra to Mr. Chambers' English class. A lot of the other boys looked at him, obviously realizing they had a stranger in their midst, but no one took the time to greet him. Sucks being the new guy.

  Lots of kids liked to chat me up on the school bus, especially underclassmen that were in awe of the tall tales that still circulated about me. Today, however, I wasn't in the mood, so I took my usual seat near the center of the bus and stared out the window as the bus pulled out of the school parking lot.

  There was nothing I loved more than a mystery. My father got me interested in crime-solving stories almost as soon as I outgrew my “Disney Princess” phase: Harriet the Spy, Encyclopedia Brown, Nancy Drew, Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, I devoured any story I could find that had an air of mystery to it.

  I hadn't yet decided whether I wanted to become a police officer like my dad. Plenty of time for that, I often thought. Trouble was, middle-school life lacked the mystery that filled the books lining my bedroom shelves. The chance to actually solve something real was tantalizing, and Ethan Zimmer might just give me that chance. Who was he? Where did he come from?

  There was something about his body language that didn't seem to fit, even for someone fidgeting his way through his first day at a new school. And that look in his eyes … he seemed lost. Scared, even.

  Maybe it's nothing. Ethan's an unknown, a new face in a sea of familiarity. Am I crushing on him? He is really cute. And it was bound to happen sooner or later …

  “Soph, you're in middle school now,” a nearby voice said. “You can't go around hugging everyone you know anymore.”

  I snapped out of my daydream, and found myself staring at two very pretty younger girls that were sitting in the seat just across the aisle from me. One of them had long, wavy brown hair and brown eyes that shone with fierce intelligence. The other, slightly younger girl had a round face framed by blondish hair set in a braided ponytail and glasses.

  “But they're my friends!” said the younger one. “I haven't seen them in months! I missed them!”

  “I missed my friends too, but I don't go around hugging them all.”

  “I don't hug everyone, Kirsten. Just the people I really like.”

  OMG. Eve's little sisters. I'd only spoken to Kirsten on the bus a few times last year, and the only times I'd ever seen Sophie were in the stands at Joshua's soccer games three years ago. Seeing them both together made all my fifth-grade memories come flooding back. “Kirsten? Sophie?” I said, smiling.

  Both of them turned to face me. Sophie looked puzzled, wondering how this eighth-grader knew who she was. After a few seconds, though, a huge smile broke out on her face. “Kelsey!” she squealed, leaping up and throwing her arms around my neck. I also smiled, returning the hug. Kirsten smiled but remained seated.

  “Still a hug-monster, I see,” I said after Sophie had peeled herself off of me.

  Sophie giggled. “Only for friends.”

  Kirsten shook her head. �
��Trouble is, she thinks everyone's her friend.”

  I couldn't stop smiling. The two little munchkins had grown up and were now in middle school. My middle school. “You guys look awesome,” I said.

  “So do you,” replied Sophie. “You're so tall now! And didn't you used to have braces?”

  “Got 'em off last year.” That was one of the happiest days of my life, and I followed that up by getting my shoulder-length, chestnut-colored hair styled properly. No more dorky pigtails. I now stood a respectable five-foot-four, and even though no boy had specifically paid extra attention to me, I wasn't completely against the idea. Too bad all the cute boys were taken. Or jerks. Or both.

  “I didn't see you on the bus this morning,” I said.

  “Eve got her license this summer,” said Kirsten. “She and Joshua drive us to school in the mornings.”

  “Still going together, are they?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  “Are you kidding?” Sophie said, beaming. “There's no stopping those two. They go everywhere together.”

  Kirsten smiled. “You wouldn't even recognize Joshua, Kelsey. He's as tall as our dad now.” She dug a cell phone out of her backpack, pushed a few buttons and handed it to me.

  I took the phone and gasped. On the tiny screen was a picture of Joshua and Eve, standing in front of what looked to be a brand-new car, judging by the huge bow that was on top of it. They had their arms around each other, of course, and Eve was holding up a set of car keys in celebration.

  Three years ago, Joshua was a small, skinny kid, only a couple of inches taller than me. That had all changed. Now he was tall, well-built and handsome as hell, even with the glasses. And Eve … My God, she looks phenomenal. I hope I look half that pretty when I'm sixteen.

  “Wow,” I said, handing the phone back with a huge smile. “They look amazing together. I couldn't be happier for them.”

  “They haven't forgotten what you did for them,” said Kirsten.

  “That's good to know.” I sighed. “Tell them I said 'hi,' okay? I miss them.”

  “Don't you talk to them anymore?” asked Sophie.

  I shrugged. “We text each other sometimes. Nothing long, just 'hey, how ya doing, goodbye,' that kind of thing.”