by A. M. Hudson
I want to—oh, God, I really want to. But I don’t want to lose you. The tears fell freely again and I sobbed, wrapping my fingers over my entire face.
“It’s okay.” He kissed the back of my head, just under my ponytail. “You can talk to me.”
I don’t want to talk. I just so badly need to be held. But it’d be way too creepy to just turn around and bury my face in his chest.
“Ara. Please. Please. I’m worried about you.” His hand came forward and he stroked a tear away from my cheek with the back of his finger. “Please, look at me?”
It’s over now—controlling myself. I just can’t do it anymore. I rolled my cheek into his hand and held it there with my fingertips while the rest of my body shook from sobbing hiccups.
What does he think is wrong? I wonder. I mean, he’s just walking along the corridor for who knows what reason and finds the new kid sobbing against a wall. It’s time to sort myself out and gain control. David is missing class. I promised myself when I came here that I’d never let my emotions effect anyone else’s life, ever again. Now, standing here and saying nothing to David, that is exactly what I’m doing.
Time to make something up. “I’m sorry, David, I—” I turned around, and at the sight of David’s kind, shimmering-green eyes, teeming with compassion, a hurricane of tears and fierce snivels conquered my restraint.
“Oh, Ara. Sweet, sweet girl. It’s okay.” David wrapped his arms securely around my head and shoulders—shielding my face in the darkness against his chest.
Man, he smells so damn good; I want so badly to wrap my arms through his jacket and link them around his back. But I can’t, I’m just too upset. “I’m. I’m okay, really, David. I just—”
“Don’t try to make something up, Ara. I won’t believe you.” He paused for a second. “Come on.” He smiled, turning his body away from me a little, keeping his arm around my shoulder.
I hiccupped in an embarrassingly high-pitched tone. “Where’re we going?”
David looked down and smiled at me, his eyes soft, yet full of concern. “We’re going somewhere we can be alone—talk.”
And like that, in one sentence, David hit every chord I wanted to hear. We, and alone. My heart squeezed tighter, then twisted into a large, pulsing knot—a good knot.
As we hurried into the front car park, I glanced over my shoulder every few seconds—watching for teachers, while David stayed calm, walking with the grace of a feather on the wind.
We stopped by a shiny black car with a soft-top roof. Convertible? Classy. “Is this your car?”
David jammed the key in the lock and twisted it. “Yes.”
“How old is it?” Must be old if it doesn’t have keyless entry.
“Uh—” David looked at the car, then at me. “It’s a little old.”
“Is it a classic?”
“Kinda—it was my uncle’s.” He held the door open for me. “Hop in.”
Closed inside the exasperating tin furnace, the dry heat grazed my lungs into stillness. Yikes! Hot summer sun beating down on black metal for half a day equals breakfast fried on the dashboard—and I’m the egg. But, in my case, I’m being fried on the tan, leather seat. There now, who says I’m no good at math. I lifted one leg, then the other, to wipe the sweat from under my knees.
Moist, muggy air wafted in when David opened the door on the other side—almost releasing the tight pressure of suffocation for a second. “You okay?”
I nodded, then slinked down lower in my seat when I saw a woman walk across the car park with a travel mug in one hand and a folder in the other. She looks like a teacher.
“Don’t worry—” David smiled and started the engine, “—your dad will understand. If we get caught, I’ll just tell them to go speak to him about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” He’s so charming and carefree. I wish I could be like that. He never sees anything as a risk. Well, with the exception of me. Plus, he’s right. My dad will be okay with this. But he’ll be worried when I’m not there after class.
David flicked on his indicator and sat by the car park exit, watching the traffic. “We’ll call the school in a while and tell them where you are—save you getting heat from your dad when you get home.”
So, I guess there’s no reason to worry, then. Except that I’m riding in a car with a teenager—one I don’t know very well. I watched the speedo, making sure he didn’t go above the recommended limit as we drove away from the school.
“How long have you had your licence?” I asked, rubbing the tight skin under my eyes where my tears dried in the extreme heat.
“A while.” He looked at my forehead and frowned.
What, hasn’t he ever seen a person sweat before? I wiped the beads of moisture with the back of my hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t really feel the heat as much as most people. Here.” David turned on the air-conditioner. The suffocation of the heat eased after the first blast of hot air passed and the chilly wind blew against my face. Mmm, nice and cool. “Is that better?”
With my nose pressed to the vent, I nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
“If you get hot or cold, Ara, you really need to tell me. It’s just not something I think about.”
“Why?” I sat back in my seat and angled the vent to blast in my face.
He shrugged, wearing a humoured grin. “I’m insensitive.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed, “real insensitive.” Not. I can’t believe I cried in front of him—and now I’m in his car with him—alone. Oh, God, I’m in his car with him and I’ve been crying. I must look terrible.
I flipped the visor mirror down and gasped at the sight of mascara-smudged eyes and my blotchy red face. David’s been looking at this mess for the last five minutes. My life is over. I wiped the smudges of black from under my eyes, using the remaining tears around my lashes to smooth it away without too much of a problem. But I can’t wipe away the blotchy patches of red under my skin, and worse, my nose, whenever I cry, turns bright pink, as do my cheekbones—forming a giant rouge smudge across my face. “I look like a clown,” my voice quivered. Is it really too much to ask that I at least look attractive when a really amazing guy is around?
“You look—” David turned my face with his fingertips, “adorable.”
Right. Adorable. Is he serious? Well, it doesn’t matter—I’m not going to look at him until the heat dies down in my face. I folded my arms across my chest, looked out the window and focused on my breathing—not the fact that I’m in a car—on the wrong side of the road.
The passing houses and tree-lined streets are all the same around here. Pretty, with that old-style, Halloween kind of feel. It seems like it should be autumn and everything sort of orange and brown, with the slight hint of cinnamon in the air. But the summer has this magic little place trapped in its grasp, making everything yellow and gold, and a little wilted.
The trees thickened as we turned onto a narrow road with dirt strips on both sides, and my eyes relaxed from their squint as the glare from the sun disappeared over the canopy enclosing us. “David, where’re we going?” I’ve never been down here before. What would Mike say if he knew I jumped in the car with a strange boy and drove to a deserted forest road?
“Somewhere quiet, where no one can hear us,” David said softly.
Internally, I laughed at the way he said that. It should scare me—make me alarmed at least. But coming from David, it just sounds so charming. “Why should we be where no one can hear us?”
“Because, Ara. You’re a mess. Look—” he exhaled, “I’m not blind. I’ve known for a while now that there’s something bothering you.”
A while? You’ve known me for four days.
He looked at me; I looked away, pinching the base of my thumb with my fingertips. I don’t know if I can talk to him about it. They all say I need to talk to someone, but does it have to be him? “David, I—”
“Let me guess—”He smiled, watching the road carefully, taking the curves with a kind of pr
ecision that put my dad’s driving to shame. “You don’t wanna talk about it. Am I right?”
“I’m sorry.” I looked out the window. “It was nice of you to bring me out here, but I don’t—”
“I’m not going to let you go until you talk to me.” He kept his eyes on the road, but grinned mischievously.
Oh really? Well, we’ll see about that. Maybe I might’ve told him before, but I’m certainly not going to tell him now. I don’t respond well to coercion. I folded my arms over my chest and stared ahead, biting my teeth together inside my mouth.
“Ara. I was kidding.” He laughed, reaching for my knee, but stopped and placed his hand on the gearshift, instead. “I’m sorry, that was very insensitive of me. I’m not normally like this, it’s just—”he looked down into his lap for a second, “—it’s just when I’m around you…everything gets muddled up. I can hardly even breathe properly, let alone stop myself from saying stupid things.”
“Humph.” Should I be insulted that he laughed when he said that? Besides, what am I supposed to say? Good, I’m glad you like me, but it doesn’t mean I’ll just do whatever you tell me.
The car slowed dramatically and gravel crunched under the tires as we pulled onto the side of the road. “Ara?”
I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the shady enclosure of trees above me. It’s cool here and kind of dark—kind of desolate, too. I’ve not seen any other cars.
“Ara?” David said again.
Begrudgingly, I twisted my neck to look at him. I feel kind of like a spoilt kid that’s throwing a tantrum. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.
“I’m sorry,” David said, and turned his body to face me. “Sweetheart, you’re taking things a little too seriously. I want you to talk to me, and I meant no harm. Really. And the more I think about it,” he rolled back in his seat and faced the front as a cheeky grin stretched the corners of his mouth, “the more I think I might just have to kidnap you until you do talk to me.”
A small smile crept onto my lips. I pressed them together firmly to keep it hidden. It wouldn’t be so bad being kidnapped by David. He’s right. I am being a little moody—perhaps taking things too literally. I shouldn’t be like this with him.
I let my arms fall away from my chest with the release of a long sigh. The ogre is obviously dominating my mood right now. I should’ve eaten more at lunch. “I know you mean well, David. But this is really nothing to do with you.” I tried to sound polite, but the words came out littered with contempt.
“I can help you,” he said, after a second. “I want to help you. All the bad things, Ara, all the pain you feel,” he reached for my hand; I let him take it, “I can make it all hurt less. But you have to let me in, you have to tell me what happened to you.”
“I can’t,” I said in a breaking whisper and turned away from his intense, pleading eyes.
“Come.”
“Where?” I looked back at him; he smiled and opened his door, allowing the clammy air to mingle with the pleasant, artificial cool. I hope he doesn’t think I’m getting out in the...
“Let’s go.” My door flung open and David held out his hand.
“How did you—”How did he get to my door so fast?
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand. “I wanna show you something.”
Chapter Eight
The trees opened up to a forest trail before us, and the sun streaked through gaps in the tightly laced canopy, splashing long, dust-filled beams across the path, but trapping the heat of the summer above us—forbidding it to taint the cool, kind of clay-scented air.
“Watch your step here.” David pressed a hand to my lower back to guide me around a small cluster of rocks, hidden beneath a pile of leaves.
“Thanks. I totally didn’t see that.”
With a soft nod, he removed his hand and smiled. “I know.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“South-west.”
“Hm. Helpful.” I looked to the path ahead, then rested my hand, like a visor, to the tip of my brow and gazed up at the ball-shaped glare of the sun. “But actually, we’re going slightly more south.”
“True.” David nodded. “The path we’re on heads south, but turns to the west up ahead.” He stopped walking and shook his head, almost as if he were shaking off a fly. “How did you know that?”
“I’m an Aussie.” I used my best homeland-sounding accent. “My best friend, Mike, taught me how to roughly guess my direction by looking at the sun—said it would come in handy if I ever found myself lost in the bushes…with a strange guy…who might not turn out to be so nice.”
David grinned, rubbing his hand across his jaw as he turned and started walking again. “Sounds like Mike’s a smart man.”
“Yeah.” I followed after him. “He taught me some defensive moves, too.” Hint, hint. So, don’t try anything funny.
“You don’t really think that of me, do you?” David sprung up right in front of me, catching me again as my face hit his chest.
“How did you—”He was at least twenty paces in front of me a second ago.
“I was standing right here, waiting for you. You really should watch where you’re going.”
I glared up at him quizzically.
“Ara? I asked you a question. Do you really think I’d be capable of hurting you?”
“How would I know? I don’t really know you.”
His eyes left my face before he turned around and trudged off over the loose leaves on the forest floor. “Ouch.”
“Well, you don’t really give me much to go on.” I chased after him. “I mean, you’re so secretive all the time.”
“Secretive?”
“Yeah.”
“About what, specifically?” He stopped, wearing a defensive smile.
“Um—” I stopped walking, too. “Well. I really don’t know.”
“So…you want me to be less secretive about nothing specifically?” He nodded once and started walking again.
“How do you do that?” My footfalls came down hard on the muddy leaves, slipping a little with the weight of irritation.
“Do what?”
“Take my well-thought-out point and turn it into nothing.”
The smile sparkled in his eyes as I caught up to him. “It’s a talent of mine.”
“It’s annoying. I really hate you for it,” I said in a light-hearted tone.
He stopped again, almost as if he’d been sprung back by an elastic hinge. “Hate is a very powerful word, mon amour. Do not use it unless you truly understand its value.”
“Okay then…” I folded my arms. “I despise you…”Affectionately.
David smiled to himself. “I can live with that—for now.” After a minute of walking in silent companionship, David stretched his arm out and pointed ahead of us. “See that slight thinning of the trees up ahead?”
I nodded.
“That’s where we’re headed.”
“What’s up there?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Everything with you is.
We walked toward a newly decaying cedar tree—acting as a large, wooden partition between the trail and the sudden openness of whatever it is beyond, and a damp mossy smell, spiked with the lemony fragrance of tree-sap, masked the muddy clay one.
The mercury dropped a little more as we passed the tree, then David stepped up behind me, grabbed my hand and said, “Welcome to the lake.”
“What the…” The leaves stole my gaze upward before casting it out to the unspoiled, reflective body of water in front of me. A grand pathway of clover blanketed the trail toward the edge of the lake, and tiny hovering bugs danced above the carpet of star-shaped foliage left abandoned by the branches of maple trees.
Though the sky dominated the space, it still felt cool and shadowed, and kind of…private. A place, not so very different from the mountain-surrounded picnic spots my dad used to take me to, but with an element of magic to it, like somehow, I could believe we we’re t
he only two souls left in the world.
Oaks and maples and ground-covering ferns guarded the grassy border of the shimmering lake, seeming to cluster closely together—some with their roots growing into the water and others forming snaky rises under the dark-brown soil. A few metres out, in the middle of the lake, a family of trees gathered on a small island, surrounded by a moat of algae. “David, this is beautiful.” I searched the vacant place beside me where David no longer stood, finding him leaning on a bulky, waist-height rock, right by the water’s edge. “How did you find this place?”
“It’s not something you’d find on hike.” He unhitched himself from the black rock and walked behind it, then squatted down. “No one comes out to this trail anymore.”
“Anymore?”
He stood up, smiling, and presented a pillow-sized black bag. “This land is owned by my family. We closed the hiking trails to outsiders about a hundred years ago.”
“You say that like you were a part of the decision.”
“Well,” he shrugged and reached into the plastic bag, “it’s up to each generation to decide. I chose to keep the land private.”
“Why?”
David busied himself at the base of the rock, laying out the picnic rug he pulled from the bag. “I like knowing I can come here to think. That when I do…I’ll be completely alone.”
“Alone is right.” I looked around again. “It’s very…private here.” And clean. I can almost taste how pure and cool the water would be if I drank it.
“It originated as hunting land.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and took a long breath inward, squinting as he observed the landscape.
“What did you hunt?”
“Hunt?”
“Yeah. You said it was hunting land.”
David turned his head to the left and looked at me. “Er…Foxes.”