Paul,

This is my attempt to stop being your best kept secret and start being a human being. Its not a threat, I'm not saying this "scare" you. I am just going to tell the truth--to every person you don't want me to tell it to.

I will start by telling your Chemistry class we weren't holding hands on a dare and that you gave me the bruise, bridging across my neck, that I hid with red scarves. Maybe, on the bus, I'll tell the driver about our late drives in your moms Buick. Remember, when you told me about your parents divorce and it even made you cry, and you had to pull over to wipe your eyes--remember?

Ill write addresses down, to our secret spots, and I will give them to your teachers. The lake house the Lander's lived in before they moved and the shed in my parent's backyard where you took me for my first time--ring a bell? You never rang mine.

I'll tell the freshman girls you go after how it feels to be warmed by you, all over, five minutes after foreplay. I'll give away all your lines, so by the time you tell it to them--they are halfway through slapping you.

I'd have trouble deciding who to tell next, but maybe ill let my dad see the bottom of my trash cluttered with colored wrappers and thin, used, latex things. He might not be so happy to see that, Paul and i'm not really sure what he'd do. But, he is still on parole so I am sure he will think it through and maybe he will go easy on you.

Your mom might faint when I tell her how many girls you've taken to Dr. Dillinger (I'll show her my file if she doesn't believe me). She might be disappointed that I cant count that number on two hands.

Whose next? Oh, now this will be fun--my very last one to tell. Now, I know your girlfriend has practice in the gym at three sharp on Thursdays. Why don't I meet her in the locker room and tell her about the freckle on your inner thigh and how your mouth tastes in the mornings?

See Paul, I want my shirts back and my CDs that you blare. I want everything you took from me, because I don't think it's fair, that I am left with all these lies and all these secrets to keep. I am what's left in the space of a bank vault that no one is allowed to see. But whatever is locked in a safe--Paul, it's always worth more then you think.

You might want to start begging for mercy because that side girl you tried to keep away but still strung along might not be as sad as you thought she was. Secrets are bad, Paul. But, I know a few--and I am not afraid to unleash them all over you. You might not think so, but I think it's true--shh, lets wait to see if the others agree with me too.