Secret Me

Wren doesn’t straighten up to face me, and my only guess is they’re throwing a big figurative ‘F you’ my way. I used to feel them watching me all the time, but since their suspension Wren has been openly angry at me. Their reaction at youth group when I tried to apologize stung, but their cocky disregard for me right now has me pulling the toque off. When they twist in their seat to grab it, I reach around to snatch their sketchbook of the desk. The drawing is exceptional, almost lifelike. Wren’s skill is unmatched in the class, and I’m not the only one who has noticed. Jenna remarks all the time how Wren’s the teacher’s pet.

“Tage, stop it, please.”

It’s as if I’m underwater, though. Wren’s hushed pleas sound muffled in the distance, and I tear the portrait out before I can stop myself. “Who is this you’re drawing? Your girlfriend?” My laugh is forced, but if I’m set on becoming Hayley this week, mocking laughter is a must. I wave the drawing around, showing Wren’s impeccable talent off to the class. The woman in the picture is beautiful, sitting on a park bench overlooking the wharf. Something about her is familiar, but I can’t figure it out right off the bat. I dodge Wren’s grab at the drawing. …

”Let me see it,” Hayley demands, beside me how. She swipes the portrait out of my hands, giving it a once over before clicking her tongue. “Yup, I bet that’s the freak’s mommy. My brother’s friends with Wren’s.”

My mouth feels like cotton balls, it’s so dry. The beautiful woman in the drawing catches my gaze again and I struggle to swallow. What happened to Wren’s mom?

Wren gasps as Hayley rips the drawing down the middle with a smirk. She’s silent as she hands the remains back to Wren, finishing her act with a small bow.