Everything You Never Knew - Secrets

By Belle Ann

Ashley was beautiful and delicate, easily pleased and effortlessly broken.

The unexpected death of pop star Ashley Noelle came as a shock to her family, friends, and fans.

Ashley’s best friend Rachel Casper rushes home from college to find that Ashley left behind a journal filled with dark secrets and confessions. Rachel quickly sinks into Ashley’s world of highs and lows, friends turning into enemies, boys that broke her heart, fans that crossed the line and secrets she’d shamed herself into keeping.

Ashley’s journal unintentionally gives away clues about her death, but Rachel doesn’t know this yet. She has no idea that the journal she’s reading opens up a lot more than Ashley’s insecurities. It names the people responsible for the end of her life….

There are two kinds of secrets; the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don’t dare let out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781304979353

Book preview

Everything You Never Knew - Secrets

Everything You Never Knew

Secrets

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for this stripped book.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-105-94492-5

Copyright 2012 by Belle Ann

All rights reserved

Printed in the USA

For my father who always encouraged my love of writing.

Also For Taylor Swift, who is Fearless with everything she does. It takes incredible conviction to take events in your life and turn them into art and passion. She inspired me to write this novel. :)

Someday I'll be big enough so you can't hit me, and all you're ever gonna be is mean.

-Taylor Swift

Hello? Hello? A distant voice vibrated through Rachel’s iPhone like an echo from deep within a desolate cave. Rachel Casper’s big, doe-brown eyes did not blink as they shifted downward, seeing nothing but taking in everything. Her fingertips felt cold and partially numb. A voice started to cry again. Was it her own, or did it belong to the person on the other end? Her head felt weightless, her thoughts detached and floating around aimlessly in the ether of her brain.

This can't be happening.

This can't be real.

After returning from the photo lab at her school where she had been developing pictures she’d taken earlier that day, Rachel's mind was focused only on the bag of pizza rolls in her freezer. She unlocked the door to her on-campus NYU apartment and tossed her school bags down on her couch. That’s when her iPhone rang. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at being deterred from those pizza rolls as she reached into the pocket of her NYU sweatshirt. The lovely, not so new-fangled invention of Caller ID told her the incoming call was from her Mother. Denise already called once that day and it drove Rachel nuts when her Mom called her repeatedly like this. She was a junior in college and it seemed like her Mom tried to smother her at times with her inability to let go. She loved her Mom very much but she was self-reliant now and didn’t need her Denise checking up on her to make sure she was keeping up with her busy schedule and staying afloat.

Rachel knew that wasn't entirely fair. After all, her Mom didn't really have anyone else she was that close to.

Rachel slid her shoes off as she clumsily pressed ‘Talk’ and held the phone to her ear. She was about to vocally greet her Mother with a purposely irritated tone when all she heard was the sound of sniffling. Immediately Rachel felt every muscle in her body tense up. Her first thought was that Samson, her old overweight black cat, had finally passed away. Samson meant a lot to her because she’d found him on the side of the road when she was only eight years old on their way home from Rachel’s father’s funeral. Due to her grieving, Rachel’s Mom was going through a bit of an eccentric phase at the time and seemed to think the cat was a gift from their father. Now the cat was an old man of thirteen and the past few years had lead him through a gradual change from an energetic, bird-killing guard-cat to a lazy, sunbathing lap-cat. It seemed like a definite sign that his time on earth was nearing its end.

With a sigh, Rachel sat down on the couch deciding to cut her Mom some slack as she adjusted the phone on her ear.

Mom, what’s wrong? Denise didn’t answer right away, she just kept on sniffling. Rachel pressed her lips together with increasing guilty for her initial reaction upon seeing her Mom on the caller ID.

Ashley’s dead, Rachel froze. There was no possible way she could have heard that correctly. Denise had to have meant Samson even if the name Samson sounded nothing like Ashley.

"Mom, what did you say?" Denise continued to cry.

Ashley’s dead. Honey, there was a car accident. There was no way Rachel misheard her mother that time. There was no way Denise could have said anything else. Rachel tensed and became still as a statue. Even the breath that was midway through her throat as she’d inhaled  felt stuck there as it became a bubble she possibly could have choked on. Her hand twitched in protest of the freeze and the phone fell from Rachel's ear to the ground at her feet.

Rachel, did you hear what I said? Yes, Rachel heard, but there was no part of her that could currently process the words or what they could have meant. Ashley was Rachel’s best friend. No, she was more than that. The past few years it had been difficult for the girls to stay close. Rachel was in New York City going to college and Ashley was still stationed on the West Coast immersed in her singing career.

Dead?

No, she couldn't be. Ashley couldn't be dead.

This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real.

Especially since Rachel knew things about Ashley that other people didn’t. Especially since Ashley told her last month that sometimes she wished she could just close her eyes and never have to open them again. Rachel thought Ashley was just being dramatic and saying something irrational in the moment that she didn’t really mean.

You once told me all of your wishes were coming true.

This can't really be happening.

Its not happening, because you're not dead. You're just really hurt, but you'll be okay.

If Rachel left right now and took the next flight back to Los Angeles she could go see Ashley in the hospital. She'd have a long heart-to-heart with her beset friend. She'd remind her that they’re best friends and there was nothing she couldn’t tell her. She'd make sure Ashley knew she would always be there for her no matter how much their lives had changed and gone in separate directions. She could say everything to Ashley that she'd been holding in; feelings, apologies she knew she owed her friend, confessions, and more. She could be there for Ashley and they could get their friendship back on track, back to how it used to be.

You know what you heard.

But Denise didn’t say that Ashley was going to be okay, as much as Rachel wanted to believe she had. Rachel knew, with a sinking, heavy certainty that her Mom said Ashley was dead.

1

To the outside observer Rachel Casper appeared to be an average, perhaps even stereotypical peppy college girl. She was almost halfway through her junior at NYU and she was obsessed with her major in photo journalism.

Rachel developed a passion for photography early in life starting with old-school Polaroid’s when she was just ten years old. She’d stay in the shadows and snap candid after candid of her family and friends, trying to find new angles of still objects that would make the picture seem more interesting. She loved catching people in their 'private moments' as she called them, though to her that never meant inappropriate moments. She simply loved it when she could snap a picture that would depict a certain facial expression that suggested the subject was in their own world for the moment; deep in thought or perhaps lost in blissful thoughtlessness. As she grew into a young teenager she graduated to digital photography and started using programs like Photoshop on her computer to edit her pictures. By the time she was in high school she’d developed quite a portfolio and enjoyed participating in High School activities such as Yearbook and Newspaper. She was never exactly popular but she was respected due to her craft, and perhaps also because of her association with her best friend, but she was very conscious about defining her own identity and being viewed as an individual.

Rachel decided on NYU when she was only a freshman so she spent her four years of High School figuring out exactly what she’d need to do to get accepted. She had no backup plan, it was NYU or bust. She was relieved when her acceptance letter came in the mail but Rachel was the type of person who not only had dedication, but also kind of confidence that kept her from ever having to feel anxious. Fortunately, her confidence never seemed to spill over into arrogance.

Rachel was always in control of herself. She was outgoing and friendly toward her peers. She maintained a social life in High School but she also studied hard and never compromised her priorities. The parties and the coffee hangs were always squeezed into a tight schedule and she never allowed anyone or anything to distract her too much. The only exception to that was  perhaps Ashley's concerts, but even the sacrifices Rachel made for her best friend were pre-planned to fit her schedule.

Rachel’s best friend, Ashley Noelle Montgomery, understood and respected Rachel’s dedication to her passion. Ashley had her own passion that she was even more dedicated to, she was an amazing singer and songwriter. The girls met in Homeroom the first day of their freshman year at Ard Eevin High School, or AEHS as it was often referred to. AEHS was an upscale magnet school in the Greater Los Angeles County. It was rather large but known for its students post-graduation high success rate in the arts. A lot of emphasis was put on the arts; mainly photography and architecture but also performing arts. Graduates of AEHS often went on to star in Broadway plays or become dancers in professional ballet companies. Artists, actors and singers from Glendale often came out of AEHS.

On that fateful first day of Rachel's freshman year, the students sloppily gathered into Homeroom with no idea what to expect. They were gossiping and giggling, obviously nervous about having to downgrade from ruling their school in eighth grade to becoming bottom feeders all over again, but Rachel wasn’t phased.

Rachel was sitting at a desk in the back with a photography book open in front of her, oblivious to the chaos around her as her eyes harshly scrutinized the use of contrast on a black and white photo of the Statue of Liberty taken with a Canon DLSR. She was concentrating so hard in fact that she felt offended when a shadow slowly moved over the page to interrupt her stare. She didn’t mind the chaos waffling around her but she didn’t appreciate it invading her territorial bubble. She immediately pressed her lips together and brushed back some untamed dark curls from her olive cheeks as she snapped her chin up to see who dared interrupt her. She didn’t recognize the girl but her first initial impression was that she was beautiful and she obviously didn’t know it, which was rare these days. Usually the most beautiful girls carried themselves with a sense of arrogance so repulsive that it turned them ugly. This girl’s blonde hair was so long it hung to the small of her back. Instead of being stringy, it was shiny and flawless, flowing like it was its own weightless entity. Her face was pale and eternally baby-doll with its soft heart shape, tiny button nose, full pink pouty lips and sea blue eyes. In spite of her beauty, her chin was tilted downward. Some of her blond shiny hair flowed over her cheeks as if she was hiding, and very afraid. Her widened eyes darted from side to side as she immediately took a step back. Rachel instantly felt guilty for her own narrowed eyes and rigid body language.

I’m sorry, the girl muttered as she quickly slid into the chair that belonged with the desk next to Rachel. She let her backpack slip off her shoulders and careen toward the ground.  Her chin lowered even more and she pressed her knees together as if desperately hoping the chair underneath her would somehow open up into a void and swallow her whole. Rachel closed her photography book and turned toward the girl with concern; a protective prelude to their friendship.

No it’s totally cool, Rachel tried to assure her. You just snuck up on me is all. My name’s Rachel. She waited to see if the girl would even acknowledge her attempted greeting. The kids around them continued to be oblivious. Someone to Rachel’s left muttered something to her friend about how she ‘broke up’ with her boyfriend over the summer and another girl responded by snickering and calling her a B-P. Rachel was well versed enough in Los Angeles slang to know B.P. was short for 'baby prostitute.' It was one of those loophole terms that girls could use to teasingly describe their friends and it was okay, but if a guy ever said it, may he rest in pieces.

Maybe the new girl was so shy she wouldn't even respond. Rachel was about to give up when Ashley’s head slowly rose. She shifted her blue eyes nervously toward Rachel. Her pearly white teeth bit down on her lower lip for a moment.

I'm Ashley, she said softly before offering a small smile. It seemed like it took some bravery for her to do so. My parents and I just moved here from Minnesota. No wonder Rachel never saw her before, not that she knew everyone in Glendale by any means but Ashley did pretty much stick out like a sore thumb, if sore thumbs really stuck out.

Who came up with that phrase anyway? Have I ever seen a person's thumb and thought to myself, wow, that thumb is sore?

Well, welcome to California, Rachel offered and widened her smile. She wasn’t sure why she made a move so classic but she held out her hand for Ashley and slowly the girl moved her own forward. In a final move of mutual consent, the girls shook.

It was hard getting Ashley to open up at first but Rachel found her to be endlessly interesting. She wasn’t like the rest of the boring, generic, seemingly directionless classmates she’d been so used to her entire life.

It wasn't that Rachel had extreme social problems; she had never been bullied or completely friendless or anything. She had a hard time feeling truly connected to others though, she was okay with making friends but she always silently reminded herself that at any moment they could go their separate ways. Maybe that was a defense mechanism stemming from her Father's death when she was a young child, but Rachel was no psychologist and she wasn't all that interested in analyzing herself.

Ashley didn’t expect anything from anyone. Slowly she opened up to Rachel, revealing that her family moved here because Ashley's passion was singing and songwriting and her parents wanted her to have every opportunity to be successful. That included being in a city that was unlike their isolated small town in Minnesota where opportunities in farming were far more accessible than opportunities in the Entertainment industry.

Ashley soon began working with a producer on her demos. When they first started production she’d told Rachel in complete honesty she’d be happy to create her album and just sell a few hundred copies, but toward the end of their freshman year, upon hearing her demo a new label that was an offshoot of Hollywood Records offered to sign her as their first client at the urging of her producer and her parents. Under Chorus Records, Ashley's debut album went Gold in only six months, then Platinum, then beyond.

Needless to say, as Ashley's career continued to take flight at warp speed she did not return to regular school after her sophomore year nor did she attend college after receiving her high school diploma from AEHS's Homeschooling program. She was far too focused on her music and with a soaring career and more money than had ever dreamed of she didn't feel the need to pursue a higher education. Still, Ashley and Rachel managed to remain close, as least Rachel thought they did, although sometimes it was hard for Rachel to get in touch with her and the hours-on-end gossip about their daily lives was a thing of the past. They had to learn to make adjustments in their friendship which often meant fitting in a lot of life-talk in short phone calls and visits.

Despite how drastically their lives changed and how different things became in such a seemingly short amount of time, Rachel and Ashley still remained tangled in each other's lives. They shared in their triumphs together, and shed mutual tears during harder times.

Ashley's highs were very high, but that also meant her lows were very low.

Sometimes, dangerously low.

Sometimes, Ashley's lows scared Rachel.

Rachel finally reached down again and curled her fingers around her iPhone, shaking, unable to form words as she raised it back up to her ear. Her mother’s crying was even louder now, outwardly expressing despair for the both of them. Rachel’s mouth was dry. She couldn’t bring herself to ask what actually happened. She couldn’t even say words of comfort to her mother because she certainly had none for herself. Eventually, in what could have been a minute or possibly ten, her mother’s sobs choked as she tried to speak. I’ve – I’ve booked you a flight. Take care of your school things and come home, Bill and Rebecca need you, there’s – there’s arrangements –

Arrangements? Rachel’s mother just told her that her best friend was dead and she was talking about arrangements? That’s how Rachel's father's death had been dealt with. Her mother had thrown herself into arranging the funeral, busying herself so much that she barely had time to break down and properly grieve. Thirteen years later Rachel was convinced her Mother still hadn't. But why were Rachel and her mother needed for arrangements when Ashley wasn’t their family?

What was Rachel thinking? How could she be so cold? Ashley meant the world to her and here she was resenting that she was going to be asked to help with her funeral arrangements instead of bawling her own eyes out over the loss of her best friend, a loss that made no sense in her head, a loss that never had to happen.

Why was Ashley gone? She had the dream-career almost every other teenage girl on the planet didn't even dare to hope for. She had a supportive, secure family. She was beautiful and had guys lining up around the globe, literally, for the smallest chance to be with her.

Bursts of anger began to clump together like a ball of chains inside Rachel’s stomach. Over the last handful of years Rachel attended a ton of Ashley’s concerts, sold out stadiums now with thousands of little girls jumping up and down and reciting Ashley’s lyrics back to her as she sang. Those girls looked up to her, those girls wanted to be her. She was a role model and now she was gone. The dedicated fans might stop to grieve but to the media, Ashley's death would be nothing more than Breaking News. The media had no respect for anyone, especially the dead.

The dead.

Ashley Noelle was now going to be considered ‘the dead.’

How did the accident happen? Was someone else responsible? Did some drunk driver stumble out of a party jiggling his car keys in the air and then crush her skeleton, or was the accident Ashley's own fault? Ashley wasn't a good driver when she was upset. She sped and didn't pay attention to her blind spots.

Lately, Ashley was upset 95% of the time.

I should have been around for her, I should have been more available. I've been too wrapped up in my own damn life.

It wasn’t as if Ashley had been reaching out to Rachel lately, though it also wasn’t like Ashley never reached out to her. Many times in the last few years Ashley called Rachel in tears and frustration but Rachel would talk some sense into her, so she’d think, and the next time they’d talk Ashley would say things were better. Maybe Rachel didn’t handle things right when Ashley was upset. It was hard sometimes because a part of her felt that Ashley was sometimes ungrateful. Not on purpose, though. Ashley was always extremely humble about her career and never acted like she had the world coming to her, but sometimes she let her personal life get her so down that she seemed to forget how blessed she was. Maybe Rachel shouldn’t have thought that way because even if she didn’t say it, maybe Ashley sensed it from her. Maybe Rachel accidentally made Ashley feel like she couldn’t talk to her about what was going on inside of her. Maybe Ashley thought she couldn’t talk to anyone about how she was feeling. After all, there were times when Rachel would tell her flat-out that she was making a bad decision.

I shouldn't have done that.

All these thoughts were swimming around in Rachel’s brain like confused goldfish with a bad sense of direction and filtering down through her bloodstream toward her heart. Her mom was the one sobbing out loud, but suddenly Rachel noticed the tears running down her own cheeks.

I’ll pack, Rachel finally responded to her Mom. Her voice was scratchy and not above a whisper.

Your flight’s in three hours, its booked with Cloud Airlines. Leave as soon as you can. Use the e-machine to print out your ticket. I’ll pick you up at baggage claim when you get in. How was Rachel supposed to do any of this? How was she supposed to pack and get a cab to the airport and get her ticket and board a flight when her body felt so numb she wasn’t even sure she could command her muscles to allow her to stand up on her own two feet?

Okay, she replied mechanically. What else could she say? The lump in her throat seemed to swell to a size so large it nearly blocked her airway. She had to gasp to take in a breath. Mom, a sensation of terror rippled through her bloodstream as if she’d just been electrocuted. How did it happen?

Honey, we don't know yet, her Mom replied and began sobbing again. Her car was found off of the bridge on Interstate 405, the sobs grew louder. It smashed through the rail and.. but it was too late. They couldn't save her. More sobs. I'm so sorry, honey.

This can't be real.

Maybe Ashley was fine. Maybe it wasn't her car, it wasn't like a Prius was a rare car to have in California. Maybe Rachel’s Mom heard wrong. Maybe Ashley wasn’t dead.

Keep wishing that, it doesn’t mean it’s true. Don't live in a fantasy world.

Ashley was gone and nothing would bring her back. She'd never hug another little girl, she'd never sign another autograph for a boy who had a crush and she'd never go manic decorating during Christmas time which was coming up next month.

You love Christmas.

How could you leave everyone like this right before your favorite holiday?!

Everyone was going to suffer now. Everyone was going to wonder why this happened. Everyone was going to wonder why the world would rid itself of someone that mattered to so many people.

There was no answer that would provide anyone any comfort. Ashley was gone and the place she held in the hearts of millions of people would now be nothing but a giant gaping void.

2

The flight back to California felt endless. The higher the plane climbed the deeper the knot in the pit of Rachel’s stomach sank. Usually when she flew home it was for family holidays, and also to see Ashley if she was in town. Normally, Rachel tended to get excited as the plane drew closer to LAX. Her stomach would flutter and all these happy thoughts would begin to race through her head. She couldn't wait to tell Ashley about some college story, or she wanted to hear all the gossip about what was happening on Ashley’s tour. The girls would hide out in one of their houses and pretend like they were still freshman in high school and nothing had changed. They would bake cookies and watch old movies.

None of those things would ever happen again.

Rachel knew it would only hurt worse if she played Ashley’s albums on her iPod during the flight, but like a sadist she streamed the music anyway. She closed her eyes as her friend’s vocals and lyrics blasted through her Skull-candy ear buds. Ashley wrote her own songs. Sometimes she wrote them completely on her own and sometimes she wrote with co-writers but she was no sellout. She was referred to by the media at times as this decade’s Michelle Branch; young, honest, open and relatable. Rachel knew the story behind every single one of Ashley’s songs. She knew who they were about and what tales they told. Rachel was an eye-witness to many of the situations that inspired Ashley's writing, at least on her first album. Ashley was shy and awkward, but incredibly insightful and endlessly curious. Rachel always respected and admired Ashley for her honesty and sensitivity.

There would be no more songs written by Ashley Noelle.

Rachel turned off her iPod as she felt the plane start to descend. Only then did she consciously notice that tears had been pouring down her cheeks and soaking the front of her purple hoodie. She glanced out the window and shifted her gaze to the man squeezed into the seat beside her. He was middle-aged and had a crisp business suit hugging his large body. He’d been typing away on his laptop for most of the flight but Rachel paid him no mind. His laptop was now put away and he was staring straight ahead with a rigid, uncomfortable tight expression on his age-lined face. Was he an uneasy flier or was he simply uncomfortable sitting next to a girl that had been leaking tears for the past few hours? Probably both.

The flight touched down and the anvil that had been tugging Rachel’s stomach downward churned into nausea, not from the flight but from the realization that she was now back in LA and Ashley was still dead. She was here to support her Mother and Ashley's family; she was here to attend her best friend’s funeral. She began to lurch and covered her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out but no actual chunks crawled up her throat. Thank god. As soon as the seat-belt sign dinged the man next to her unsnapped his belt and practically flew to his feet. She watched blankly as he scrambled to the overhead bin and pulled out a Louis Vuitton duffel bag. Rachel didn’t bother trying to stand until the doors were open and the passengers began to pile out. She didn’t want to get off the plane. She didn’t want to make her way to baggage claim, and then out to her Mother’s car. How could she look her Mother in the eye? She would be no comfort to her Mother because she was not a pillar of strength herself right now. Rachel was the one that needed comfort. What she really needed was to understand but how could she ever? How could anyone understand why someone so talented, with so much depth and kindness, who touched the lives of so many people was suddenly gone forever?

Rachel waited until she was almost the last person left on the plane before she gathered her carry-on belongings and walked down the isle toward the exit. Her legs felt dead and heavy as she forced them to move forward. She knew her face was a mess and her hoodie was soaked but she couldn’t bring herself to care. With a heavy heart she plucked her iPhone out of her pocket and sent a text to her Mom to let her know she'd arrived.

'I’ve got the SUV, meet me by door 10'  Rachel’s mother texted back. Rachel was surprised  she could even drive right now but she didn’t dare let herself think about what Ashley's Mother, Rebecca must be feeling.

Rebecca had always doted on Ashley. Many people accused Rebecca of being an overbearing, spoiling Mother, but Ashley never behaved like a spoiled child, just a protected one. Ashley wasn’t very capable of handling the meanness of her classmates at times or the way boys would break her heart. Rebecca was always so quick to take Ashley out or let her have a party or even buy a gallon of ice cream and have crying sessions with her daughter when something was wrong. She never let Ashley hurt alone. Bill was the same way with her, Ashley was the apple of his eye and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

Like Rachel, Ashley was an only child and Rachel heard many times that she was Rebecca and Bill's miracle baby. They’d tried for years to have a child and the doctor told them it was next to impossible. Right when they were about to give up and consider adoption they tried in-vitro one last time and Rebecca finally had a successful pregnancy at age thirty seven. Ashley was premature, born almost two months early. The first month of her life was touch and go, she needed heart surgery, she had breathing problems, but she pulled through. No wonder Bill and Rebecca were so willing to do anything they could to make Ashley’s dreams come true. After all, Ashley was their dream.

Rachel snatched her duffel from baggage claim and slung it over her shoulder. She suddenly realized she had absolutely no idea what she’d even packed; she was in both a daze and a hurry when she’d thrown enough random things inside the duffel to fill it. Her clothes probably mismatched and she’d likely forgotten things like her tooth brush but it wasn’t like she didn’t have one at her parent’s house. Why was she thinking about things like this anyway? Why was she worried about whether or not she packed her toothbrush when her best friend’s body was lying cold in the morgue with a toe tag? She was probably blue and cold, a corpse like on CSI.

What if it wasn't an accident? What if someone murdered her?

What's wrong with you, your best friend is dead and you're thinking of TV show plots?

What good were conspiracy theories going to do? Turning this unwanted reality into a TV show wasn’t going to make this any easier. In real life there was no script, no ending,