Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “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 titled Mike?”

  “Hey! Are you snooping through my playlists?”

  “Of course.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  “Dare I ask why 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 didn’t save the David list under his name.

  “Hm, this Night Fantasy one looks awfully suspicious.” I could actually hear the mischief in his tone, giving him away for his presumptions. Presumptions that were right—if he assumed that list were for 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 expression changed, an invisible force bringing him toward me like a leaf on a breeze. “Ara, that color is beautiful on you. It really brings out the pinks in your skin.”

  “Emerald green,” I muttered, flattening the front of it as he touched my cheek. “It’s one of my new favorite colors.”

  “One of? What’s your favorite then?”

  “Yellow.”

  “Any reason for that?”

  “It’s a happy color. The color of the sun,” I explained, looking into him. “I just refuse to think everything in life has to be all dark and gloomy all the time. So I like yellow. What about you? What’s your favorite color?”

  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 ever since I met you, I’ve once again started to notice the 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 a brighter horizon—a life I never imagined.”

  “Being in love?”

  “Being in love with you.” His fingers moved into my hair. “And now, every time I see this color, it makes my heart skip. It makes me think of everything that might be possible, that never was before.”

  I kind of laughed. That was a very deep confession, and it made me nervous, so I brushed off the displacement with an “Aw, I feel special now.”

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

  “Not really. I just… people don’t really talk like you do,”—like they’re from another time—“sometimes I feel 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 winked at me—“we both know how I feel about that giggle.”

  A loud rumbling sound mocked the suggestive undertone in his voice.

  David looked down at my belly. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Come on, we need to feed you before the beast presents itself.”

  “You know me too well already.”

  * * *

  Skittles hissed and leaped out my window, sending my homework scattering when we entered the room.

  “What did you do to that cat, David?” I asked, watching the cat scamper across the roof outside and leap onto the ground. “He hates you.”

  David grinned, closing the door. “Are you suggesting I threw him up that tree to get your attention earlier?”

  I laughed. “It wouldn’t surprise m—”

  “Ara.” Vicki opened my door. “This stays open.”

  My arms fell loosely by my sides. “Seriously?”

  She gave me ‘the glare’ then walked away.

  “Looks like the cat’s not the only one who doesn’t trust me,” David joked, smiling.

  “Argh.” I stomped over to my desk and pressed play on my iPod. “Why does she have to treat me like a child?”

  “She’s not,” he said, tossing my stuffed dog aside as he landed on my pillow. “She’s treating you like a teenager who’s alone in her room with a boy.”

  I smiled and turned the music up loud enough to give us some privacy. “Well, she needs to get used to you being around. After all, you are going to come meet me here every morning now so you can make me one of those glorious coffees, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled, opening his arm so my body could slide along next to his. “You liked that, did you?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Well”—he kissed my head as I snuggled into him—“I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” But I kinda knew he wouldn’t. I think Vicki made him feel really unwelcome.

  “I’m not bothered by your stepmother, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  I rolled up a bit to look at him. “I was. I thought maybe she’d offended you, you know, sitting with us at breakfast and all.”

  “Not even a little bit.” He pressed my head until I rested it back on his white T-shirt. “I’ve dealt with a lot worse than Vicki.”

  “Well, you’re pre-approved by my dad, right? So she has to accept you.”

  “She does, sweetheart. Just give her time.”

  I nodded, and we laid that way for a while then, music filling the silence while a summer breeze swept through the window, circling my room with the fragrance of fresh-cut grass and the sharp, spicy scent of David’s cologne. It was so easy to be with David. He asked me a lot about Australia, and we sat for about half an hour comparing the differences in words from the two countries, like jam versus jelly and sweater versus jumper. He originally thought jumper was another word for a kangaroo or a really depressed guy standing on a rooftop.

  “And the food here is different too, as in the portions. I’ve never been so happy in all my life.” I patted my belly. “The ogre’s started raising his demands. I’m gonna get fat soon.”

  David kissed my hand. “You would still be beautiful, even if you were too big to touch your toes.”

  That made me smile. “That’s the sweetest thing any guy has ever said to me. In a really strange way.”

  He went quiet for a second, shaking his head. “I don’t think you get it, Ara.”

  “Get what?” I rolled onto my belly, resting my elbows against his chest. “Get what, David?”

  With his lips pressed together, he smiled, studying my face carefully. “Never mind. So, what’s your favorite genre of film?”

  “So we’re playing the withholding game again, where you refuse to tell me what you’re thinking?”

  “I’m not withholding anything,” he said in a teasing tone, which just meant he was. Clearly.

  I deliberately slumped myself a little too heavily onto my back against his chest again. “Fine then. Favorite genre of film? I guess it used to be action. The nineteen-eighties kind. But now…”

  “Now?” David led, when my silence lasted too long.

  “Now, I like comedies. You know, it’s like”—I huffed through my nose—“I’m always so unhappy. If I can find something that makes me laugh and forget about my life for a while, that’s what I like to do. So, comedies.” My shoulders lifted once in a semi-shrug.<
br />
  “What kind of comedies? Stand-up, action—?”

  “Romantic.” I smoothed my fingertips over David’s ribs. “What about you?”

  “Horror,” he stated, cupping my hand and stopping it from lifting his shirt.

  “Really? Why? They’re so… icky.”

  “Not for me. I love a good scary horror. I have this thing for blood. Can’t get enough of it.”

  Well, I never assumed that one. Sweet David liked gore? It just didn’t fit. I rolled onto my belly again to study his face. “Really?”

  He just smiled and placed his hand under my shoulder blade, making me feel so grounded and so real with the weight of his touch. What was it about him that could come across as so harmless, when all I’d heard were stories about his bullying antics, and now he was telling me he liked horror?

  “It doesn’t suit you,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Gore, horror. All that stuff. I can’t picture you watching things like that.”

  He just laughed. “Guess we won’t be having many movie nights then, since we have such different tastes.”

  “Oh, no way, we so will. You’ll just have to watch chick flicks.”

  His smile widened. “I look forward to it. Of course, I would like to watch a horror with you”—he motioned to my hand on his chest—“if it meant you’d snuggle into me to feel safe.”

  I rested my cheek on his shirt again. “We can do that without the horror.”

  “What about books? Can you read books with horror?”

  “Yeah. I like some Stephen King stuff,” I said.

  “Have you ever read anything by Anne Rice?”

  “Yeah. I got swept up in the vampire craze. Basically any books or movies about fangs, and I was there.” I nodded. “You?”

  “Yes. Even I fell victim to vampire pop culture.”

  I laughed aloud. “Yeah but, personally, I prefer animal-eating vamps. Killing people is just…” I rubbed imaginary goosebumps off my arms. “It just doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “At all?”

  “Nope.”

  “What if you met a vampire who was nice, like me, but killed people? Would you still like him?”

  I shook my head. “I know there’re girls who would. But I guess, after seeing death firsthand—how it affects the people left behind—I’m not sure now.”

  He went ultimately quiet and still. I think he even stopped breathing.

  I propped my head up again and his stunned stare drew a smirk to my lips. “You okay?”

  “Aspirations,” he said suddenly, the stare washing away to a smile. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  I sighed, knowing for certain that his liquid eyes were hiding some deeper thought he wouldn’t share. “Um, I always wanted to be a teacher, like my dad. But now I think I kind of want to be a musician—write my own songs.”

  “I think that would be perfect for you.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I rolled onto my back and took his hand again. “I’d like to be famous one day. Maybe as a pianist.”

  “You’d need to get a piano first.”

  “Oh God, trust me, I know. I’ve been begging Dad for one since I was four.”

  “Why hasn’t he bought one for you?”

  “He wants me to be a teacher. Better income.”

  “Not if you were to make it famous.”

  I shrugged. “Guess he’s seen Hollywood dreams go sour too many times.”

  “But it’s not just big dreams with you, Ara. You’re very talented.” He laughed out the last two words. “I don’t think you’d ever be happy teaching.”

  I felt warm then. “It amazes me how well you know me.”

  He linked his fingers gently through mine. “You know, I wanted to be in a rock band once.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It was a long time ago.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Went in another direction.”

  “What direction?”

  He did that pause thing he was becoming famous for. I assumed he was weighing up all the different answers he could give against the ones he would give to keep me out of his world. “I’m not so sure about that now. Might say I’m at a crossroads.”

  And that answer, believe it or not, let me into his world more than if he’d said Law or something like that. I smiled. “What direction do you want to take? I mean, what options are there?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.”

  “How can you find out?”

  “I can ask.”

  “Who?”

  He sighed. “My uncle, I suppose.”

  “And what would the question be?” I probed.

  His fingers tightened on mine. “If I knew, I’d ask it.”

  I chuckled. “Is it that you don’t want to tell me, or that you genuinely don’t know?”

  “It’s more that I can’t tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have secrets.”

  “I like secrets,” I said.

  “What if they’re dark secrets?”

  “What kinds of dark secrets?”

  “Bad ones.”

  I really thought about that for a second—about the fear I had that he’d hate me when he learned my dark secrets. But I never imagined he’d have some—that there might be reasons I could hate him. “Then don’t tell me just yet.”

  “When should I tell you?”

  “One day.”

  “What if I didn’t have much time? What if I had to tell you soon?”

  That rubber mallet of destruction came at my soul again. I felt it getting closer. “What’s your favorite sport?”

  David didn’t answer for a few breaths, maybe a little thrown off by my change in direction. “Hockey. You?”

  “I like dancing, but as for actual sports, I was never interested. It was a taboo subject in my house—much to Mike’s disgust.”

  David cleared his throat, crossing his ankles over where they dangled off the end of my bed. “So, he really did spend a lot of time there.”

  “Yep. Every day. He was a permanent fixture—just another piece of furniture. His mom and my mom were really close.”

  “You and Mike were, too?”

  “Yeah. We were. I mean, we are, but we’re just so far apart right now.”

  “Do you think things will be the same as before when he comes to see you?”

  “I hope so. He’s always been a constant thing in my life. It’s been really hard without him.” I crossed my hands under my head, losing myself to thought for a second before a smile expanded my lips. “He’s kind of like a favorite pillow: you know, you can cry into it, it keeps you warm and comfy, and it’s always there.”

  “But you don’t sleep with it?” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but I knew he was also really curious. Everyone was.

  “No, David. It’s not that kind of pillow,” I said slowly, then added, “It’s a couch pillow. Mike’s just a couch pillow. But this one”—I rolled over and traced circles over his chest. He tensed, his hand ready to move mine if I strayed into forbidden territory—“this is my new favorite pillow.”

  He let me touch him for three whole seconds before he finally moved my hand, pressing his lips to it once. “I’m sorry. I wish the circumstances that brought you to me had been different. But I am very glad you came here.”

  “Me too.”

  “And I’m sure, when you see Mike in a few weeks, you’ll fall back into step with each other right away.”

  “Yeah, probably.” I shrugged, but then curiosity itched a new question into my throat. “So what about your family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “I have a brother. A twin.”

  “No way.” I sat up next to David’s hips, crossing my legs under me. This was way too interesting for a lie-down conversation. “Are you identical?”

  “We look the same, but we’re very different.”

  “Well, I gathered that. Why doesn’t he go
to school with us?”

  “He chose a different path—stayed with my uncle in New York.”

  “So, who do you live with then? Are your parents still together?”

  “My mother passed away when I was a baby, and my father followed not long after. So I live alone.”

  “Oh, David.” I covered my mouth with both hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “So, you grew up with your uncle?”

  “Well, I was raised by my aunt, and when she passed away, my uncle took my brother and me into his care.”

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d suffered a lot of grief. I feel bad, like I’m making a big deal out of my problems, but you—”

  “Don’t say that.” He pushed himself up on his elbow and took my hand. “You have every right to make a big deal, Ara. You just lost your mother. My grief, my loss, it all happened a very long time ago.”

  “Can’t be that long ago. You’re only a teenager.” I frowned, smiling at the way he brushed off his own grief—just like me.

  He looked down at our hands. “I’m older than I look. The things I’ve been through in life have made me older, given me wisdom beyond my years.” He lay back, adding through a breathy smile, “Sometimes, I feel like I’m over a hundred years old.”

  “Sometimes you sound it, too.”

  “I know.”

  “So, do you see your uncle much, I mean, since you moved away?”

  “Every other week or so. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.”

  “What for?”

  “We’re members of a council. We have a few things to discuss.”

  “What kind of council?”

  He cleared his throat. “A… charity organization.”

  “Oh. What charity?”

  He grinned. “Blood donation.”

  “Then, I must confess.” I showed him my arm. “I’ve never donated.”

  He laughed out loud. “Something we shall have to remedy.”

  “No way. No one sticks needles in me.”

  “I could rent a vampire for the day. He could suck it out of you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So what about your brother? Do you see him much?”

  “Jason?” David’s cheek flinched. “Not so much. We’ve kind of grown apart.”