Secrets

The snowflakes flurried down around the gravestones, darting across the cemetery and piling up on the already-frozen ground. Two figures made their way down the path, toward the pond, which had iced over in December. Bundled up in their heavy coats, with their warm hats and scarves, it was nearly impossible to identify them with the naked eye. Their laughter rang out amidst the silence, forming chilly clouds that hung in the air as they kept walking, as if to preserve their presence a moment longer. It was these characteristic laughs that could be used to determine who they were. In one respect, it proved them to be Gabrielle and Lilith, but in another, arguably more important one, it demonstrated that they were inseparable best friends with an unparalleled connection. Each of them found the other to be the only person with whom their genuine laugh so often sounded. Each girl was the other’s safe place, and the time they spent together felt like going home.

“Did you name your tarantula yet?” asked Gabrielle. Gabrielle was undeniably gorgeous, with delicate yet commanding features, only comparable to women in paintings, that never failed to establish her as the most beautiful girl in any given room. She, however, didn’t seem to agree with this universally-accepted sentiment, and had always believed Lilith to be the prettiest girl in the world—though, there was certainly a bias involving Gabrielle’s inclusion of Lilith’s personality in the assessment of her beauty as a whole.

“My father suggested I name him Nixon,” Lilith replied. “He thought it would be funny, I guess, but I didn’t want to make it a political thing—and, besides, he’s only just been elected, so I don’t hardly know anything about him at all.”

Gabrielle admired Lilith’s maturity. She was smart, thought Gabrielle, smarter than she’d ever be. And much more independent and decisive and a million other things.

“So I think I’ll name him Oppenheimer,” she declared confidently. She always exuded confidence, Gabrielle noticed—not an egotistical, overexaggerated confidence, of course, but rather a subtle security in herself that Gabrielle respected. She wondered how much of her friend’s confidence was rooted from her clear conscience. This, unfortunately, was not something Gabrielle could relate to—and after all this time of harboring such a heavy secret, it was nearly impossible for her to even imagine it. She fantasized how it might be, though—a weightless, freeing sensation after she finally admitted it, like being released from prison after years of incarceration.

“Oppenheimer…what did he do?” The name sounded familiar, and Gabrielle had an idea of who she thought he was, but she didn’t want to sound stupid. If she was being honest with herself, though, she knew Lilith liked to teach her things, and she wanted to give her friend any small joys she could. A pang of guilt struck her as she questioned herself—was she trying to make up for something that hadn’t happened yet? To prove that, despite her secret, she was still trying her best to be a good friend? That she was still worth something? And maybe all of this was unnecessary, since the release of her secret was, ultimately, up to her. If she hadn’t said anything after all these years, there was no chance of unintentionally letting it slip now.

“He developed the atomic bomb,” Lilith explained, and Gabrielle was careful not to miss the small yet uncontrollable smile that formed on her lips.

They’d reached the pond now, and Lilith stopped walking, glancing over at the completely snow-covered bench they occasionally used on days with better weather.

“I think I could go out there in these boots,” Lilith predicted.

Gabrielle followed her gaze to the pond. “Out…there?” she repeated doubtfully.

“Yeah,” Lilith said. “I was just reading about the science of walking on ice. The more surface area you have, the safer you are. And people skate on those little thin blades, so I’ll be fine. Do you see how clunky these old boots are?”

Gabrielle disagreed with the reasoning behind Lilith’s ambition but, in an effort to leave her dreams uncrushed, went along with her musings. Life is more fun in hypotheticals anyway, isn’t it?

Instead of furthering the entertaining banter, though, Lilith simply stepped out onto the pond. Unable to believe what had just happened, Gabrielle stood still in pure shock. Lilith grinned up at her devilishly, and Gabrielle shrieked, begging her to get off the ice.

“It feels really stable,” Lilith observed, bending her knees slightly as she rocked back and forth on the ice. “You should try it.” She stretched out her hand, waiting for Gabrielle to take it.

A faint crackling came from somewhere under Lilith’s boots, and she searched frantically for a break in the ice, steading herself with her arms. She shot Gabrielle a look of distress, sending her cries of help with her eyes.

As she contemplated the best course of action, Gabrielle took another step toward the pond. In a split second, a series of cracks spread across the pond’s surface, plunging Lilith into the frigid water.

Gabrielle wasn’t even comprehending Lilith’s panicked exclamations. All she could think of was her secret, and how precious life is, and if Lilith died now she’d never know, and if she didn’t tell Lilith, then she’d never tell anyone, and what kind of person took a terrible secret with them to the grave? Certainly not the type of person Gabrielle wanted to be.

Kneeling on the edge of the pond, Gabrielle grabbed Lilith’s arms. She was shaking, her teeth chattering, as Gabrielle hoisted her up.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” whispered Gabrielle, practically dragging Lilith to safety. She didn’t mean to whisper, but the overwhelming anxiety of finally telling her secret had taken her ability to speak normally. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Lilith, her skin pale as she took deep, shaky breaths, encouraged her to continue.

And for the first time, Gabrielle said it all. She forced herself not to worry anymore about what Lilith would think of her—it was too late anyway. And the more she spoke, the more words kept pouring from her lips, like a long-awaited release of the floodgates containing the things she never thought she’d say.

Still dripping with ice-cold water, Lilith hugged Gabrielle. Overtaken with emotion, Gabrielle began to cry. Of course, by now, she had realized that there was no realistic possibility of Lilith’s death at that moment. However, her idea of the preciousness of life remained, and she was glad that she’d finally decided to confide in someone—especially Lilith. As time ticked on, after the girls had gone back to Lilith’s house and Lilith had gotten warm, and after they graduated and eventually had careers and lives of their own, neither of them betrayed the confidence of the secret. One night, Lilith admitted to having a similar secret, and sometimes, late at night when she couldn’t sleep, Gabrielle would go outside and look at the stars, wondering how it was possible to have gotten so lucky to find someone who really understands, and who would never give away her secret. They vowed to remain true to each other, and they did, for the entirety of their lifetimes, for every second until graves marked with their names were added near that same pond, where they spent the rest of eternity buried along with their secrets.