Dark Secrets

by A. M. Hudson

“Funny.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I’ll bring the popcorn,” Alana said, shyly.

  “Great. It’s settled then.” And I was actually excited. Mike would be, too, when I told him. In fact, this had been a great day. The best ever. In a way, I was kinda glad my dad so cruelly forced me back to school this week, because I had new friends now and my horrible past was no longer a burden I solely owned. But best of all, David liked me enough to want me as his girlfriend. In fact…love. Love is what he’d said.

  I looked sideways at David, flouncing his hand around in the air as he explained the size of the pizza he ate last night. He didn’t know it yet, and I wasn’t ready to tell him, but I loved him, too. Not in the way he loved me—like the way you love your guitar or your best friend—but real love. The kind of love you hold for someone you want to marry one day.

  The phone rang twice. I waited impatiently, tapping my fingers on the desk.

  “Hey, Ara.”

  “What you doin’?” I asked, hearing a strange static kind of sound.

  “He’s playing a death-match, online, with me,” another voice said very clearly into the receiver.

  “Oh, hey, Josh.” I laughed, wincing. Lucky I didn’t just blurt out my news the second Mike picked up.

  “Hey, Ara. How’s things, what you been up to?” Josh asked, half distracted.

  “Well, actually. A lot. That’s why I called,” I said in an eager, soprano voice.

  “Hang on,” Mike said. “I’ll just de-link the phone line from the headsets.” I heard a noise, like someone tapping a fingertip on the lid of an empty tin, and a bleep followed, making the slight static in the phone line recede, leaving a clear, quiet hum. “Okay, I’m alone now. How you doin’, kid?” Mike’s deep, sexy voice made my blood warmer.

  “Well, actually, I’ve been waiting up all night for you to get home so I could call you. I’ve got good news.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I paused for dramatic effect. “I’m having a sleepover next weekend.”

  “Really?” he dragged the word out.

  “No, I was kidding.”

  “Well, that’s great. Are you gonna talk to the girls about what happened—with your mum?”

  I shook my head, watching my reflection in the window. “Nope. Don’t need to.”

  “Why?”

  “Already talked to someone.”

  “Who?” he asked. “Was it your dad?”

  “No, it was David.”

  “Yeah? The guy you like?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, come on, fill me in, then?” His voice glided in that husky smoothness that could only be Mike’s.

  “Well, it turns out he already knew.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “He spoke to my dad before he even met me.”

  “Well, that’s cool. And he still made friends with you?”

  “Yes,” I said in a flat tone. “I know, I know—you told me it’d be fine.”

  “Did you tell him about…you know, the other part of it—your inner guilt?”

  I hesitated. “Yes.”

  “And he still wants to be your friend?” he asked, unperturbed.

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. We made our relationship official tonight,” I beamed.

  Mike went quiet. “Ara, what did you do?”

  “What? Oh, no, not like that, Mike.” I laughed, waving my hands about.

  He exhaled. “So, like what, then?”

  “As in he said the word girlfriend.” I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Well, that’s really cool. I’m glad there’s someone lookin’ out for ya.”

  “You could make even half an effort to sound happy for me, Mike.”

  “I am happy for you, baby. I just—”

  “You’re still my bestie, Mike.”

  “I know, but I’m not there, Ara. And I’m worried. I know you too well, and I know that tone. You’re pretty serious about this guy, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.” I grinned, glad he couldn’t see it.

  “Baby, you gotta be careful. Grief can magnify emotions. You know that. What you’re feeling, it may just be—”

  “Don’t say it, okay?” I said, holding the phone away from my ear in case he did. “I don’t need you telling me what to feel.”

  He just sighed heavily. “Okay. Fine.”

  “Thank you.” I sat quiet for a second, considering just hanging up. “Hey, guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I have a girl I want you to meet when you come over.”

  “Ara, don’t play matchmaker. I’m coming to see you, not go on dates.”

  “She’s blonde. And cute,” I offered, my voice rising in question. “She’s the one I’m having over next weekend for a sleepover. I’m gonna show her some pictures of you.”

  “Well—” his voice dragged, “—I do like blondes, but not dumb ones.”

  “Oh, no, don’t worry, she’s definitely not stupid. But don’t get ahead of yourself, Romeo. She might not even like you. You’re not that good looking.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m a hunk.” He laughed.

  I smiled. “Yeah, I’d pay that. But it takes more than just good looks to get the girl.”

  “Well, how ‘bout my charming personality and witty sense of humour?”

  “Might work.”

  “Worked on you.”

  “Not funny, Mike.”

  “Sorry. I take it back. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Whatever. Anyway. You don’t need to worry about me now, okay. I’m doing well. I’m still not fine. But I’m okay. Today.”

  “I’m glad, kid. You could use a bit of okay. But—” a long, stretching groan sounded down the phone line; I pictured him rolling his spine, straightening his arms behind his head, “—I’ll be there soon, and then you’ll be all better.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He laughed for a second, then became all stern; “But, seriously, Ara? Please don’t set me up with this friend of yours. I’m in a difficult place right now with matters of the heart. I’d rather not drag anyone else into that. Okay?”

  “Sure thing.” But I knew he’d change his mind when he saw her.

  The fresh scent of Mr Warner’s cut grass next door mixed with the lemony fragrance of Vicki’s bathroom cleaner, and the sound of the vacuum cleaner down the hall sent a warm pang of calm through me. I smoothed my hands over the unruffled bedcovers on top of me, remembering my irrational but normal dreams. I wondered how today could seem so perfectly sunny and bright when yesterday, despite the weather being the same, my whole life had felt grey and stormy.

  With a hint of a skip in my step, I leaped out of bed and stood right in front of my open window, drawing a breath of the fresh, cool morning air. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, but I wanted nothing more than to be up and a part of the day.

  When my crappy old phone bleeped, I dove onto my bed and opened my messages; Can I come see you today? It’s David, by the way.

  An invisible paintbrush swerved across my lips, bringing them up on both corners. I texted back: Are you kidding? Of course you can.

  Didn’t want to seem overeager.

  Be there in five, he texted back.

  My eyes went wider, taking in my ultra messy room. I scooped my clothes off my floor in one big pile and threw them in the laundry basket, then shook my quilt over my bed and sprayed deodorant all around my room, waving a hand through the scented cloud to rid the stench of depression from within the walls.

  “Vicki?” I called, grabbing my doorframe to lean out into the hall.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “I’ve got a friend coming over, okay?”

  “Okay.” I heard the vacuum cleaner start up again, relieved she didn’t ask if it was a boy friend or a girl friend. I wasn’t ready to tell her I had a boyfriend yet.

  I shut my bedroom door to get changed, but as I lifted my shirt, heard a high-pitched yowling echo in the street below. Hanging from the ol
d oak tree in the backyard, a fat grey body swung from side to side, flailing around in an attempt to free its paw from a branch.

  “Stupid cat.” I laughed, pulling my top back on as I burst through my door.

  “Hey, princess.” Dad passed me on the stairs. “Where’re you running off to in such a hurry?”

  “Vicki’s dumb cat’s got itself stuck in the tree.”

  “Ara to the rescue, huh?”

  “Again.” I passed through the forbidden formal room, pushed the back door open and leaped off the porch, landing on the dewy grass. But instead of climbing up a tree, stopped dead at the sight of every sunrise that ever brought day, standing in my backyard, holding a very sorry-looking grey fluffball.

  “David?”

  “He’s fine,” he said, tucking Skittles’ lashing tail into the hold as we met under the tree.

  “Oh, my knight in shining armour. You saved my baby.” I took the cat from him, then squeezed the tip of its paw to inspect the claws.

  “He’s just a little embarrassed, I think.”

  “He should be.” I cradled the cat close to my face; he was still growling in the back of his throat, not at all amused to be held like a baby. “Silly kitty.”

  David smiled fondly at me.

  When I released my hold on the cat, he bolted over the hedge fence—into the front yard.

  “How did you sleep last night?” David asked, running a finger down my arm.

  “Laying down,” I said, and David laughed. “No, in all seriousness, I actually did sleep. No joke. And I had normal dreams.”

  “Then my work here is done.” He took a step away, then turned back, wedging his hands in his pockets. “Kidding.”

  “Not funny.” I slapped his chest, noting that small indent between his pecs. I just wanted to keep my hand there, against his plain white T-shirt.

  He grabbed it as I pulled away, and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “You don’t have to be afraid to touch me, Ara.”

  Oh, my heart. Will it ever beat again? I smiled and slowly reached up to his face; it felt silky, warm under my fingertips, with just a tiny hint of regrowth breaking the skin around his chin and upper lip. “It looks good.”

  “What does?”

  “You. Clean-shaven. I like it.”

  He gave a short, breathy laugh, and placed his hands on my hipbones. “So, how are you feeling today? After everything we talked about yesterday.”

  “I’m really good. I mean, I still hurt inside, all the time, and I never stop thinking about them, but—” I shrugged.

  “It will get easier.” David ducked his head a little so our eyes met in perfect alignment. “You will always think about them, but I can promise you that missing them will get easier.”

  “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

  “I’ve suffered a lot of loss in my life.” He nodded smoothly and looked away. “But, I find more people to love and make my life about them.”

  As our eyes met again, his warmed with a soft, simple smile.

  “If you’d told me that a week ago, I might not’ve believed you.”

  “But you do today?”

  I nodded, resting both hands flat on the front of his chest, my elbows touching his ribs. I needed to stand on my toes a little to feel like he could hear me talk without my having to yell, but that only made my lips come up to his chin; not close enough to lean forward and steal a kiss. “I’m glad my dad told you, David—about my mom. I think I’ve decided I’m not going to yell at him. I mean, he was just doing what he thought was best for me, right?”

  “He didn’t really mean to tell me, Ara. That wasn’t his intention. I lead him into it.”

  My smile twisted up with a frown and I shook my head. “Is that why he gave you the touch-my-daughter-and-you-die speech?”

  David’s eyes narrowed a little as he cleared his throat. “He never gave me that speech.”

  “But, in History class, he—you said he—”

  He shook his head once, a suppressed grin creeping up into his eyes. “I lied.”

  I dropped my arms to my sides. “I told my dad off, you know, for giving you that speech? And worse, he played along. How could you two just conspire against me like that?”

  David laughed aloud, tilting his head back so his canines showed. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, failing to subdue his amusement. “I shouldn’t laugh. But you’re just so funny when you get on a heated rant. I love it when you do that.” He pointed to my hands wedged firmly on my hips; I dropped them.

  “So what was my dad saying that day?”

  “He asked me to keep an eye on you, since I already knew why you were here, and you had apparently taken a liking to me.” He combed a fingertip though my hair and swept it back behind my ear. “And I told him I had absolutely no intention of letting you out of my sight.”

  Hmph! “Well, it’s nice to know he approves of you. But how’d he know I liked you?”

  “Something about sultanas and grapes?” David’s dark brows pulled together.

  I laughed, thinking of Dad’s weird teacher lingo. And then, so many other things suddenly seemed to fit together, like a three dimensional puzzle that I assumed was only two. “So, when you said you didn’t know he was my dad, that day after History class?”

  David’s smile slipped away. “He asked me to keep it from you that I even knew your name.”

  I nodded slowly. “I wondered how you knew it was Ara-Rose—in the library, because no one here knew that until after History class. You sneaky little thing.” I pointed at him.

  He reached down and took only my fingertips in his delicate grasp. “I’m sorry I deceived you. I meant no ill intent.”

  “It’s in the past, David.”

  “So, you’re not still mad at me?”

  “I’m incapable of being mad at you. Well, for long anyway.” I smiled, drawing my shoulder up to my ear. “I’m glad you talked to my dad. If you hadn’t, we’d never’ve met, and I would’ve wished every day that we did.”

  “Not possible. You’re not the kind of girl I could ever just pass in the street, Ara. I would’ve seen you eventually, and it would only have been a matter of time until I made myself a part of your life after that.” He cupped his hand over the side of my neck. “Tragic past or none, we would’ve ended up friends.”

  “Ara-Rose!” a high-pitched and rather cross voice called from behind. Vicki stood on the back porch, her hand on her hip, still clutching a dishcloth. “Get some clothes on, please.”

  “Oh my God!” I covered my chest with my forearms. “Why didn’t you tell me I was still in my pyjamas?”

  David grinned, looking at my tiny pink shorts and white tank top. “Relax. You look adorable.”

  “Adorable?” I said, making myself smaller. “I’m not even wearing a bra.”

  He took my hand and we walked toward the house. “Yes, I noticed that.”

  “What’s this one?” David called out.

  “What’s what one?” I called back from my wardrobe.

  “The playlist called Mike?”

  “Hey! Are you snooping through my iPod?”

  “Of course.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “So, why do you have a playlist named for a guy?”

  “Oh, it’s just all the music that makes me think of him. You know, the fun we had, that kind of thing.” I shrugged and shimmied out of my bed shorts.

  “Should I be worried? There’s no David list.”

  “Not yet.” I smiled to myself, glad I saved that one as Night Fantasy—deliberately leaving off the K.

  “Hm, this Night Fantasy one looks awfully suspicious.” I could actually hear the grin in his tone; I wanted to throw something at him.

  “Hey, don’t look at that list.” I pulled my dress over my head quickly.

  “There are a lot of sad songs on here, Ara. I hope this isn’t my playlist.”

  “What if it is?” I said, stepping back out into my room.

 
My gorgeous boyfriend docked the iPod and a ‘David’ song came on. “Because it gives me the impression that you think I don’t like you.”

  “Then, maybe, after yesterday, I need to make a new list.”

  “Yes. I would say so.” He turned to face me and his mouth fell open. “Ara, that colour is beautiful on you.” He practically floated over to me. “It really brings out the pinks in your skin.”

  I flattened the front of my cotton dress, closing my eyes when he ran the back of his finger over my cheekbone. “Emerald green,” I muttered, getting lost in the way the tingle of his touch made my teeth feel numb. “It’s one of my new favourite colours.”

  “One of? What’s your favourite, then?”

  “Yellow.”

  “Any reason for that?”

  “It’s a happy colour. The colour of the sun.” I opened my eyes. “I just refuse to think everything in life has to be all dark and gloomy all the time. So, I like yellow,” I said. “What about you? What’s your favourite colour?”

  He stared at me for a moment, smiling as he looked down at my mouth, then back into my eyes—catching them in a breathless hold. “Sapphire.”

  “Why sapphire?”

  “Because, since I met you, I’ve seen nothing but magic in the world.” He gently moved his cold fingers from my cheekbone to the nape of my neck. “You might say that sapphire represents the blue of a brighter horizon—a life I never imagined.”

  “Being in love?”

  His fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me slightly closer. “Being in love with you. And now, every time I see this colour, my heart skips a beat; it makes me think of everything that might be possible, that never was before.”

  I kind of laughed. “Aw, I feel special now.”

  He laughed too. “Sorry. Does it bother you for me to speak my heart?”

  “Not at all. But sometimes I feel like you’re making this stuff up, you know, like you’re just saying what I want to hear.”

  He held out his pinkie; “I promise I speak only truth.”

  I linked mine over his. “Then I promise to always try to believe you. But I can’t promise not to giggle.”

  “Well—” he swiped his thumb down my chin, “—we both know how I feel about that giggle.”

  The warm sun heated the room around us then, and the tranquil hum of the weekend filled the air, until a loud rumbling disturbed the peace.