Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “Homework. Now,” I heard Vicki say from downstairs.

  “But, Mom,” Sam whined.

  “Now.”

  I smiled to myself and shut my door, kicking my shoes to random corners as I flopped backward on my bed and let out a long sigh.

  It was over. The torturous first day was over.

  “See?” I called across to the girl in the mirror. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Muuuum!” Sam yelled from the hallway. “Ara-Rose is talking to herself again.”

  “Shut up, Sam!” I threw a pillow at the back of my door.

  “Time to call the men in white coats,” he yelled.

  “That’s enough, Samuel,” Vicki said loudly.

  Sam’s boisterous cackle faded down the hall, but he’d left a great cloud of infuriation behind him. I huffed out loud. Talking to myself did not make me crazy. Hearing myself answer back did, but… let’s not go there.

  I smiled then, thinking about my day; thinking about how David said he liked me, and how I read into that so poorly I couldn’t even speak after. I think he took it pretty well, though. He didn’t make me feel like a total loser. Well, until Society and Environment class, when he corrected the teacher on the Emancipation Proclamation. It wasn’t even on topic, but it took one simple comment from a kid up the back, and our discussion on North America turned into a full-blown slavery debate. David, rather heatedly, put everyone in their place. I stayed quiet through the whole thing, but his mere presence made me want to pick up a book and read it. I think he had that effect on everyone—even the teacher.

  “Ara?” Vicki knocked on my door.

  I jumped up and sat at my desk, quickly grabbing my books from my bag. “Yeah?”

  “Dad called—asked if you need some help with homework,” she said through the door.

  “Um. No, thanks,” I said.

  “Okay. Well, just give him a call if you do,” she added. “He’s supervising detention today.”

  “Got it,” I said. I waited another few seconds, and when she added nothing else, spun around to face the window. The day outside was so bright and the afternoon breeze had settled among the leaves of my oak tree, rocking the rope swing in a soothing wave as if to say, “Come to us, Ara-Rose.” And I wanted to. I really did, which made homework feel like a rock of pressure on my neck.

  I looked at the pink phone on my desk and slowly pulled my nail from between my teeth, grabbing the handset quickly to dial Dad’s mobile.

  “Ara?”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, how was school today, honey?”

  “Um, great. So, I was just… I’m a bit stressed, Dad—with homework. Can I…”

  “Why don’t you leave it for today?” he said, and I grinned. “Maybe just do a bit of reading, and I’ll talk to your teachers for you. Sound good?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief, which was maybe a little forced. “Thanks, Dad. That’d really help.”

  “Okay. That’s good then. Hey, since you’re finally using that phone I got you, why don’t you call your pal in Australia? I know he’s—”

  “Dad. No.”

  “Ara, he’s been calling every day.”

  “Yeah, but he’s stopped now, right? You said he hasn’t called for a week.”

  He went quiet for a moment. “That’s not necessarily a good thing, honey.”

  I sighed heavily, resting my head on my hand. It wouldn’t be easy to talk to my best friend again. I wasn’t even sure I had the right to after evading his calls so often. And then there was the shame…

  “Ara-Rose, he cares about you. He’s just worried—just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “Then why not give him a call? Maybe after that you can sit back and read a book for a while?”

  “I just… what if he hangs up on me, because I ignored him for so long?”

  Dad laughed. “Just call him.”

  I jammed my thumbnail between my teeth again. “Okay. Maybe I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s great. Now, go rest up, and don’t stress over homework, okay? I promised you we’d ease you back into this slowly, so that’s what we’ll do.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “Anytime, honey. Bye.”

  “Bye.” I hung up and, before placing the handset down again, flipped it over and stared at the numbers. I’d dialed Mike’s number so many times I could do it with my toes if I wanted, but it took me a minute, as I stared at the phone, to remember the first digit. And in that moment, a pocket of fear crept in, asking me what I was going to talk to him about. I mean, what would I say? “Hi, Mike. I haven’t called to see if you’re coping, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m not. That I feel tired and sad all the time. That I went to school today, and fell in love with a boy at first sight, and I’m pretty sure I might be going insane, because that’s just not normal. But I thought I’d just tell you that, because you have no reason to care how I feel anymore after I’ve ignored you the way I have. And I was hoping maybe you’d be jealous of me liking another guy, but that’s just never going to happen, is it? And I don’t know how I can face you, knowing now that you never loved me the way I thought I loved you.”

  With a sigh, I looked at the phone again.

  “Go on,” it teased.

  I pinned the number in, my hand shaking, and it only rang twice before the husky voice on the other end made my heart jump, reminding me of everything I loved about him. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mike.”

  “Ara?”

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  “Hey, kid. How you doin’?” His voice pitched high on the end, making a pathway from my ears to my soul and guiding me all the way back home.

  “Um—” I scratched the wood grain on my desk. “I’m good.”

  “How’d your first day go?”

  “How did you know I was starting school today?”

  “I spoke to your dad on Saturday.”

  “Oh.”

  “So…?” he said. “How was it?”

  “Um, well, it was good, actually.”

  “Really?” He exhaled. “That’s great. I’ve been worried ’bout ya all night. I haven’t even slept.”

  “Oh crud, the time difference thing.” I slapped my forehead. “I’m sorry, Mike. Should I go?”

  “No. No, of course not.” I heard a ruffling sound on his end and imagined him sitting up in bed, his black cotton sheets looking blue in the moonlight under him. “So, did you make any friends yet?”

  “I did.” I grinned, then Mike got the run down on all the happenings of the day: Emily, Alana, how cool Ryan was—a tiny bit about David—and a massively overdramatized recap on music class with Mr. Grant.

  “No joke? What an ass.” Mike laughed. “I wish I’d been there. I would’ve played Chopsticks and deliberately done a bad job of it.”

  “I know you would. I was thinking about that while I was playing.” I chuckled.

  “You were thinking about me?”

  I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I really missed you today.”

  A heavy silence lingered for a moment. “I… I’m actually really glad to hear that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I just. Ara, about that night…”

  “Can we not talk about the past?” I said quickly. “Can we just talk about… normal stuff, please?”

  After seventeen years of knowing Mike, I could tell from his tone that he didn’t want to brush things under a rug, but for the sake of my mental health he said, “Sure thing.”

  “So…” Right, normal stuff. I could think of something normal to talk about, right? Um... “What’ve you been up to the last few months?”

  He exhaled heavily, probably running a hand through his sandy hair. “Well, you know how I applied to Tactical last year?”

  “Yeah?” I said, getting excited at the excitement in his voice.

  “I’ve got one more inter
view to go, and I’m pretty much in.”

  “You’re kidding me? Mike, that’s so awesome. I can’t believe you’ve finally done it.”

  “Well, don’t jinx it. I haven’t made it yet.”

  “Yeah right. You’re, like, super fit and super smart. You were in when you were born, and you know it.”

  “Yeah. I know. Hey, listen, I was thinking… once I make it in, I’ve got a few weeks before training begins. Can I come see you?”

  “Are you kidding?” I stood up, practically squealing. “Of course you can. I’d love that. There’s so much I wanna show you, and I really want to talk to you about this guy, and—” I paused, trying to reel my words back in.

  “What guy?” Mike’s tone changed with interest. I pictured his face, the way the corners of his lips would turn up under his rough sandy-brown stubble and make my heart do flips. But all that had changed now. He didn’t want me to love him like that, so maybe moving on with someone else would ease some of the longing I still felt.

  “I really need your advice actually.” I slumped back down in my chair.

  “Sure, I’m good for it. What’s the deal?”

  “Well, his name’s David.”

  “The one who showed you around today?”

  Does he not miss anything? I barely even mentioned David. “Yeah, except I left everything out. He didn’t just show me around, Mike. He, like, I don’t know, he stayed with me all day and didn’t really make a secret of the fact that he likes me. And… I kinda really like him.”

  “Well… that’s great, right?”

  “No.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “After one day?” I looked out at the corner of the school’s front parking lot, just visible from my window. “Does that make me creepy?”

  “How long did it take you to fall completely in love with Leopold?” he asked, referring to my favorite movie.

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Because Leopold’s not real. David is, and I’m not some character in a love story.”

  “Ara?” Mike groaned. “You’ve always been like this.”

  “What?” I asked, defensive.

  “You like a guy, flirt with him, befriend him, but whenever”—he cleared his throat—“whenever they like you, show the tiniest bit of interest, you run the other way. I don’t know, it’s like you’re afraid they’re gonna wake up one day and realize you’re not that pretty or something.”

  I pressed my lips together, closing my eyes. “You know me better than I thought.”

  “I know I do, Ara. I’m your best bud. Now stop worrying, and just let yourself like this David guy, if that’s what he wants, too. I mean, you said he likes you back, right?” He sounded so mature, so unlike my Mike—my fun-loving, carefree Mike.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But what? You’re afraid that liking someone you just met means you’re abnormal?”

  “Well, yeah. Kind of.” I shrugged, scraping at the wood grain.

  “It’s not creepy or weird if you both feel the same way. And, do you think he’s creepy for liking you?”

  I might if he liked me the way I like him. “No.”

  “So, then, you’re not creepy—you’re a teenager. You’re supposed to fall head-over-heels with every guy who has a cute smile.” He laughed.

  “I guess you’re kinda right.” What harm could it do falling for a guy I just met?

  “I know I am,” he said. “So just don’t sweat it, kiddo. I mean, don’t go marrying the guy or confessing your love for him tomorrow, but don’t worry if you’re a bit hot for him, either. It’s not gonna hurt anyone at this stage. And you could use the distraction.”

  I shook my head, smiling. “How do you always know what to say to make my head clearer?”

  “You do the same to me when I’m having a girl crisis.”

  “Yeah, how are things on that front?”

  He groaned loudly. “Well, the last time a girl kissed me, she ran away from me after. So, I think I’m pretty well done with chicks for now.”

  I sighed and leaned on my hand, wishing I could be the last girl he’d ever kiss. But the Friend Zone had been firmly established, and I needed to stay on my side of the line. “I should go, Mike. I asked Dad to get me out of homework, and now I feel kinda bad.”

  “Why?”

  “I told him I was too stressed, but I actually just couldn’t be bothered doing it.”

  Mike laughed. “Good to see you’re still the same Ara.”

  I smirked, not sure if that was an insult or an observation.

  “Okay,” he said in a tone that began the end of the conversation. “Well, keep ya chin up. I’ll come see you in a few weeks, okay?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be great.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.” I hung up the phone, and the room felt suddenly empty, like I’d just caught the first vortex back to my cold new reality.

  * * *

  “Ara?” Dad sounded panicked.

  I flung my door open and the concern on his face dropped instantly.

  “What were you doing, honey? I’ve called you six times.”

  “Sorry, Dad. I was reading the compulsory books for English class. I had my earphones in.”

  “Oh.” He seemed surprised. “Any good books?”

  “Eh.” I nodded, rolling my shoulder forward.

  “Well, I spoke to your teachers and—”

  “Um, about that, Dad,” I said as we walked down the stairs. “I think I’ll be okay. I can handle a little homework.”

  He smiled widely and pulled my chair out at the dining table for me. “Good girl. I’m very glad to hear that.”

  As I sat down, I glanced at Sam who, for the first time since I moved here, didn’t smile at me. He pushed his vegetables around his plate with his fork, hiding under his baseball cap. Poor Sam. I felt bad that he’d suddenly inherited a permanent sister after fourteen years being an only child. And I guess maybe that’s why he picked on me so much, but something else seemed to be bothering him tonight.

  “Samuel.” Dad’s stern voice made us both look up as he sat down. “Cap, son.”

  Sam sighed to himself, slipping his baseball cap off and dropping it to the floor without protest.

  Weird.

  “So, Ara met a boy today,” Vicki said, serving a pile of peas onto Dad’s plate.

  Dad winked at me.

  “He knows,” I said, my cheeks burning. “He already interrogated him.”

  “I did not interrogate him. What ever gave you that impression?”

  “I saw you talking to him—in class.”

  “Oh.” Dad scratched his brow. “Yes, that. Well, I might’ve lightly threatened his safety. A little.”

  Vicki sat back down beside Dad. “You didn’t? Greg, how’s the poor girl supposed to make a life for herself here if you scare off all the kids that look at her sideways?”

  “That was more than a sideways glance, Vicki.” Dad chuckled, sprinkling salt all over his dinner. “I used to be a boy myself, remember.”

  She shook her head and snatched the salt. He reached for it again, and without so much as looking at him, Vicki moved it away.

  “It’s okay, Vi-er-Mom,” I said teasingly. “His grilling didn’t work anyway. David still walked everywhere with me.”

  “David? As in… David Knight?” Sam almost rocketed forward.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “David’s a nice kid,” Dad said in an almost warning tone.

  “He’s a bully!” Sam demanded.

  Dad’s lips turned down with thought. “I don’t know about that. We teachers have never heard sultanas about him.”

  “Sultanas?” My forehead twitched. “Dad, is that some kind of weird teacher-lingo?”

  “Actually. It is.”

  “Sultanas are bad gossip on the grapevine,” Sam informed.

  “And grapes are good gossip,” Dad finished.

 
“So, where do sour grapes come in?” I said.

  Four long lines formed across the top of Dad’s brow. “You know what? We don’t have one for sour grapes. I’ll bring that one up in the lunchroom tomorrow.” He nodded, spooning casserole into his mouth.

  “So, no sultanas about David then? That’s good,” Vicki said, eyeing me. “Must be rare?”

  “It is, actually. We teachers scamper about the halls, unnoticed, so we get some good gossip, and believe me”—Dad winked at Sam—“I hear it all.”

  Sam shuffled in his seat. Dad looked away, chuckling to himself.

  “Okay. What have you done, Samuel?” Vicki asked, sounding kind of bored.

  “Nothing.” Sam looked her right in the eye.

  She focused intently on him for a moment, then laid her napkin slowly beside her plate. “You might as well tell me, Sam. I will find out one way or the other.”

  Sam liquefied.

  “Spill it. Now.”

  “I got a lunch-time detention today.”

  “Why?” Vicki asked.

  He stayed quiet.

  “Sam!” Vicki reached across and took the salt from Dad again, her eyes never leaving Sam’s face. “Either you tell me, or I come into the school for an appointment with the principal.”

  Sam stewed in his own nerves, looking at Dad, who laughed into his plate. “I got caught sneaking into the girls’ locker room,” he muttered to his chest.

  Unable to hold back any longer, Dad burst into a loud, burly laugh, covering his mouth to keep his dinner in. I looked at Vicki, unsure if I should laugh or not, but a smile crept across my lips.

  “Greg, I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me!”

  “I just”—Dad caught his breath, still laughing, the infectious sound spreading over the whole table—“I couldn’t.”

  And then I laughed, making Vicki laugh, too.

  “What on earth were you going in there for?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t like you think.” Sam’s cheeks went bright red.

  “Oh, sure. No. A fourteen-year-old boy goes into the girls’ locker room to buy a sandwich,” Dad joked.