Vicki shut the engine off. “We thought it might be better if they started earlier.”
“But—”
“What’s the matter, Ara? I thought you’d be happy to see David.” Her tone had all the malice of a person who knew that I knew that she knew I was totally getting busted, and she was relishing in the idea.
“Of course I’m happy to see him.” I closed the car door with my hip and folded the dress over my arm. “I can’t wait to show him my dress.”
“Me too.” She walked ahead and opened the front door for me, all the while grinning like an evil stepmother.
The skin on my neck tightened.
“Greg? We’re home.”
“We’re upstairs,” Dad called. “How was shopping?”
“Great,” I said.
“So you got a dress?” David, with his fingers wedged into his pockets, looked down at me from the top of the stairs, anticipation lighting his eyes.
“I did, and I think you’ll love it.”
He kissed my cheek as I passed him and, as Vicki followed, my shoulders subconsciously hunched around my ears.
“Did you have fun?” Dad asked, standing behind the big red sofa that was wedged in the doorway of the spare room. Vicki shrugged and sat on it. “That good, huh?” Dad wiped his brow, winking at me.
“She hasn’t changed a bit when it comes to shopping, Greg,” Vicki whined.
My vampire folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Vicki for a second. Then his head whipped up and he looked at me with an open-mouthed frown: my cue to leave.
“I’ll just hang this up.” I darted into my room quickly.
When I headed back out to help get the spare room ready for Mike, I half expected David to jump out and berate me. But he didn’t. Worse, he continued to help Dad, all the while saying nothing at all. Well, nothing at all to me. He was mad. I knew it. I could tell.
The two boys struggled with the offending sofa while Vicki, who must’ve climbed in past it, vacuumed the imprints off the carpet where furniture had been. At last, the bulky lounge shifted, and David pretended to struggle with its weight as he and my dad carried it out of the room and angled it up the stairwell to the attic.
“Ara?”
I looked at Vicki, then the stairs and the front door, and considered running.
“Come help with the dusting please,” she said.
Against my better judgment, I sauntered into the spare room and took the feather duster from her.
“Make sure you dust the cornices too. I hate cobwebs.”
“Don’t go to a vampire’s house then.” I grinned, imagining coffins, cobwebs and bats. If David invited Vicki and Dad over for dinner, she’d sneak off to the bathroom every five minutes to secretly remove all of his eight-legged pets. Then again, the only reason a vampire would invite Vicki and Dad to dinner is if they were the main course.
“I suppose you think you’re pretty funny?”
I looked up at David, snapping out of my reverie in a suddenly Vicki-less room. “Actually, I do. I think you’d look rather fetching in a coffin.”
“Coffin?” His eyes narrowed in obvious confusion. “Ara, what are you talking about?”
“The cobwebs.” I pointed to the ceiling, then dropped my hand slowly, realizing that wasn’t what he was referring to. “Oh. The dress?”
“Yes. The dress.”
“I… you know what?” I sunk my hip down on one side, propping my hand on it. “Bite me!”
“Don’t tempt me, young lady.”
“It’s just a dress. Get over it.”
He shook his head and backed away as Dad and Vicki waltzed in, carrying the bedhead. “Vicki, let me take that.” The human David took over for the angry vampire, and I secluded myself in my task while the three of them continued furnishing the room around me.
As time ticked on and my mediocre chores came to completion, I leaned on the tall chest of drawers across from the foot of the bed and watched David, suddenly aware that he probably wasn’t angry that I hadn’t accepted his gift, but perhaps hurt. In his day, it was common for a man to send his date a pretty dress. And my declining it was probably seen as very rude. But these were modern times. Things had changed. Women had rights now.
David dusted off his hands after he placed a small set of drawers next to the bed, then smiled at me—the conceited I-know-what-you’re-thinking-and-I’m-finding-it-funny smile. Well, I wasn’t finding it funny that he was listening in on my one-sided argument.
“That’s so rude, David!” I stomped my foot, balling my fists up beside me. “You’re so annoying.”
“Ara!” Vicki looked up from making the bed, then looked at David as I stormed out of the room and slumped on the settee in the hall.
Dad walked out after me and stopped by the door with a look of intense thought, then snickered and walked away. Vicki, with her arms folded around a spare blanket, followed him—after casting an accusatory glare my way.
“Another one of Ara’s infamous tantrums.” David stood in front of me.
“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I slid down in the chair, biting my teeth together.
“Hm.” He turned and headed back into the spare room. “Coulda fooled me.”
“Coulda? You mean… did!”
“Yes.” He stopped and leaned on the doorframe. “I must admit, that was very clever of you—stuffing your purse with a lesser amount. But you can’t read minds, mon amour”—he tapped his temple—“so your plan was flawed from the start.”
“Well, you assumed I was submissive, so yours was too.”
“Submissive?” He lowered his arms, moving over to me. “Ara, is that what you think?”
“I don’t know. You seem to know all my thoughts, so you tell me.”
“Don’t be like that.” He knelt in front of me. “Look at me. Please.”
With my movements as rigid as a frozen elastic band, I rolled my head upward, but kept my bottom lip in a completely tight pout.
“My love, I’m sorry. I never meant to offend you. I—” He took my hand; I let him, with only a little bit of a fight. “I was being playful, mostly. I truly did not think that my spending money on you would be considered controlling.”
“It’s not that, David.” My tone sung with reason. “It’s that when I tried to decline, you got mad at me.”
“Mad?” He pulled back a little. “You think I’m mad?”
“You’ve been ignoring me,” I said quietly.
“Ara,” he laughed my name out. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”
Tears coated my eyes. “I thought you’d yell at me.”
“Yell?” His brow pulled low on one side, thought washing across his face. “Ara, what kind of man do you think I am?”
“One that likes to get his own way.”
As if a rope had just pulled his soul out onto the carpet, his face went slack, his eyes draining of the smile. “I’m so sorry if I’ve given you that impression. I… I truly never meant for you to feel that way.”
“Aw, David, now I just feel guilty.”
He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t. Look, I’m sorry I was pushy, but if it means that much to you, I’m glad you bought your own dress, and I will be happy to see you wear it.”
“Really?” A half smile crept onto my lips.
“Oui, jolie fille.” He touched his hand to the hollow between his collarbones. “I am your eternal servant. You should never feel pressured to do something because I want you to. And you should never be afraid of me—or my reaction.”
“I wasn’t really afraid, per se. Just anxious.” My shoulders dropped. “I just don’t like disappointing you.”
“My love, nothing you want with your heart will ever be a disappointment to me. You must know that.”
“I do. Now.” I shook my head, laughing softly.
He looked down then, his eyes focusing on something far away while his lips turned up, and my heart skipped at the sight of his dimples.
“What
are you smiling at?” I asked.
“Uh… I hope you like scary movies.”
An eerie feeling swept over me as my gaze followed his to the front door at the base of the stairs. “Why?”
“Come in, Emily,” Sam said as he passed.
“Hello,” Emily chimed in her high but elegant voice, opening the door.
“Hey, Em.” I stood up.
“Hey,” she said, then turned and waved to someone outside. “Bye, David.”
Not surprisingly, when I looked back, my eyes fell upon the plain colors of the corridor walls and the rosewood floorboards below the rug David had been kneeling on.
“Right on time, Em.” I checked the clock on the wall as I reached the base of the stairs.
“Yep, and I hope you like scary movies.” She held up a USB stick. “It’s based in Australia—some place called Wolf Creek?”
I shivered. That’s what David meant. “Uh, wow. That’ll be great,” I lied, not really sure why I did that.
I could almost hear David laughing down the street.
Well, I hoped he enjoyed his little joke, because he’d be paying for it when I called him at two in the morning, scared of the boogeyman in the corner, instead of calling Mike, like always.
My arms folded in smug gratification. Well, there you go, that was one thing I’d let him pay for.
21
“I don’t know.” Emily grinned at Dad as he stood up. “I think Sam has a point.”
“See, old man?” Sam said. “If a senior agrees with me, I must be right.”
Dad, with a humored grunt, stacked a pile of plates in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Well, I happen to know that this particular senior is an A grade student because she doesn’t play video games.” He motioned a hand to Emily, who sat taller, bristling with pride.
“Dad.” Sam smirked. “Emily’s only an A grade student because she has a cru—”
“Good work ethic,” I cut in, sure Sam was about to say “crush on her teacher.”
Sam bit his lip, offering Emily an apologetic look. She just shook her head, picking the pineapple off her pizza.
“If only a good work ethic was addictive, like those video games you play, Samuel.” Dad sat back down at the table. “The fact is, my boy, you have an example to set for the other students, being that you’re a—”
“Teacher’s kid. I know, I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ve all heard the speech, Dad. But you can’t debate my argument with your uneducated reasoning. I learned more about physics by playing Halo than I did from Mr. Ester, and unless you’ve also played video games, then you can’t, beyond all reasonable doubt, say that it doesn’t teach physics.”
Dad let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s okay, Mr. Thompson,” Emily said in an encouraging tone. “Alana and I still believe in the importance of homework, isn’t that right, Lani?”
Alana looked up from her plate and nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I folded my arms. “I’m with Sam on this one. Burnout taught me the logistics of driving a car.”
Dad jostled with a little chuckle. “Exactly.”
“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean”—he sat back, folding his arms—“that there’s a reason you don’t have your license yet.”
“You don’t have your license?” Emily practically spat the words out.
“Um… no.” I sank into myself. “Not yet.”
“Why?”
“I uh, I’m not very good at driving,” I lied. Truthfully, I just didn’t see the need to be behind the wheel.
“Maybe Alana and I could teach you,” Em offered.
“I think we’ll leave the driving lessons to the experts,” Dad chimed in.
“But if your methods aren’t working, Mr. Thompson, maybe she could learn from those of us closer to her age,” Emily said.
Dad raised a brow. “When did I become the old guy?”
“Uh, about forty years ago, Dad.” I laughed.
“Hm. Should’ve seen it coming. So,” he said with a change in tone, “what are you girls up to tonight?”
“Scary movie,” Emily said.
“Yay.” I waved an invisible flag with mock enthusiasm.
“Yeah? Which one?” Sam sat up, suddenly more eager to be a part of the conversation again.
“No way, pest. Girls’ night,” I said.
“Aw. No fair.”
“Life’s not fair, son. Get used to it,” Dad said distractedly, the common disease of resorting to philosophical one-liners taking the intelligence out of any point he may have been trying to make.
“Well, Sam, if you want to paint your nails and look at pictures of Ara’s hunky BFF, then you can have a girls’ night with us,” Emily offered.
“Yeah, I’ll pass.” He slumped back in his chair.
“All right, well”—Dad stood up and took the last of the plates—“Sam and I will get the dishes, and you girls can go talk about boys.”
Awkward. “Yeah, um, that’s our cue to go.” I stood and motioned the girls to follow.
* * *
Three pairs of feet dangled off one side of my bed, three ponytails off the other, while the sun slipped behind the house, bringing darkness down the walls.
“So, whose idea was it to hang the crystals over the window?” Alana asked. “It was so magic in here with all those rainbows as the sun went down.”
“Oh, um, Pollyanna.”
“Pollyanna?” She rolled onto her belly.
“Yeah. It’s from an old movie my mom used to love.”
“Hm. Never seen it.” Alana looked at Emily, who shrugged, shaking her head.
“So Ara, are you gonna show us these pics of Mike, or what?”
“Sure, but you’re with Spence now, Em. Do you really need to be checking out other guys?”
“Who says I’m checking him out?” She sat up beside Alana. “I’m just curious as to why your eyes light up when you mention him.”
“They so do not light up,” I demanded, feeling them light up.
“Um actually, Ara, they kind of do,” Alana said carefully.
“Yeah, you sparkle.” Emily waved her fingers around. “So”—she shuffled to the edge of the bed—“let’s see them.”
“Fine.” I rolled up with a huff and wandered over to my desk. “I don’t have many, though. I only grabbed one box when I moved, and it was the wrong one.”
“That sucks. So what got left behind?” Em asked.
“Just some old family ones.” I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. “I’d switched the boxes about a week before and just didn’t realize until I was already here.”
“Why not ask your mom to send them over for you?” Alana suggested.
“Yeah. Guess I could.” I bumped the drawer closed with my hip and plonked down on the ground with the box in front of me. Alana sat beside me, waiting anxiously while I fingered the lid, trying not to peel back the rainbow and kitten stickers Mike had randomly stuck on when he was bored one day.
“Oh, my God!” Alana reached past my wrist and grabbed the first picture the light touched, then jumped up and handed it to Emily, who smiled.
“Oh. Yeah. He is cute.”
“You think?” My lip curled in false disgust, when secretly, Mike had always been just my type.
Emily lay back on my pillow, her silky blonde hair spilling out around her like liquid. “Hell yeah. He’s kinda rustic, isn’t he?”
Alana, with another picture in hand, nodded. “Is he a surfer?” She flipped the image around of Mike in his board shorts on the beach, golden and tanned. His scruffy yellow hair had blown over his eyes, the wet sand sticking it together on the ends, like dreadlocks.
“Yeah, I suppose.” I shrugged. “He does surf.”
“I can’t believe how cute he is.”
“Even by my standards,” Alana said. “He reminds me of that Australian actor.”
“Which one? We spew out quite
a few good ones,” I said.
“The one who plays Thor in that movie—”
“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “I thought that too when I saw it.”
“And you two never uh…” Emily let her suggestive tone end the question.
I shook my head. “It’s really not like that.”
She grinned, seeing the pathetic liar in me. “Oh, my God. You so had a fling!”
“We didn’t.”
“You did,” Emily insisted.
“Did not.”
Alana studied my smirk. “Ara, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Drat.” My shoulders sunk. “Okay, maybe I did kind of throw myself at him. Once.”
“Really?” Emily sat up and crossed her legs under her. “Well? Come on, girl, fill us in!”
My head dropped to one side with a groan. “Okay. Um, so it was my friend’s eighteenth…”
“Ooh, wait, wait, wait.” Em waved her hands about, coming to sit down in our little circle around my box of Mike. “Okay. Go.”
“Um.” I laughed at her. “So… I had a drink at her party. Well, maybe three.” I laughed. “Or more.”
The girls gasped, wide-eyed.
“What?” I shrugged.
“You rebel.” Alana breathed the words out.
“I know, I know. It’s not one of my proudest moments. But it was her eighteenth birthday and the legal age for drinking in Australia is eighteen,” I added. “So I’m not that far off, not like here.”
“Huh! So lucky,” Emily scoffed.
“Anyway,” I continued, “I walked to Mike’s house to stay the night so my mom wouldn’t find out I was drinking and—”
“Did his mom know you were drunk?” Emily sat forward.
“Let me finish.” I held a hand up. Alana laughed. “It was actually Mike who picked up on it, like, before I even got in the door.”
“How did he know?” Alana asked.
“He’s been a cop since he was eighteen,” I said. “He knows the signs, and he knows me, and I don’t act like that.”
“Wait. I thought he was just getting into the police,” Alana asked.
My head moved in a ‘no’ as I popped a candy in my mouth. “He’s just getting in to the Tactical Response Group. That’s where he really wanted to be. But he’s been a beat cop for a bit now.”
Dark Secrets Box Set Page 38