Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  29

  Dad and Mike played chess in the formal dining room, Vicki hung laundry on the clothesline, and Sam stood talking to Mr. Warner over the fence, but something about the lazy tone of the day made me edgy.

  My old rope and wood companion rocked gently under me while I strummed my way through months of painful and also happy memories, trying to make some sense of it all. My life had changed so quickly from being a normal teenager going to school, practicing for my big ballet recital, to losing my family and then my first true love, all while discovering the existence of monsters. And perhaps that was it. Perhaps it wasn’t the calm of the day that had my gut churning, but the monster called Truth: the knowing in my heart that, tonight, on the last stroke of midnight, the part of me that wouldn’t believe David was gone would turn and look up at the clock tower on the chamber building, hoping he’d tap me on the shoulder. But both me and myself knew he wouldn’t show.

  For my own sanity, I blocked out the thoughts of David, strumming random chords on my guitar, while the representation of my confused brain paced around in my head, calling himself Holmes.

  Nothing really made sense anymore. When bad things happened to me in the past, I could usually always see some reason, some lesson I needed to learn from it after time passed. But everything over the last few months just seemed pointless.

  I dropped my fingers from their position on the strings, letting the song die without a name.

  The whole world seemed pointless.

  I couldn’t let my mind wander that path though: the trying-to-find-meanings-or-reasons path. Every time I walked that road, I came to the same conclusions, leaving that train of thought with nothing more than a large suitcase of frustration. Perhaps we were here to love, or to experience and overcome trials, or maybe even to feel. Who knew? Pain was the only constant thing in life. So maybe the meaning of life was to cram as much pain and heartache as we could into the puny timeline of our miserable existence.

  Satisfied with that dismal conclusion, I started playing again, watching through the window as Dad and Mike mused over their chess game. It was like looking across the waters of reflection, reading the story of my life: two elements of my past—from different worlds—coming together in battle. And it occurred to me then, as I watched their hands meet in the offer of peace, that this was it: that was my Dad and my fiancé. There would be no more boys for me. Mike would be my first and my last. A chapter of my life had ended before it even began.

  Maybe that’s why my dad liked Mike so much; he’d never have to worry about me ending up with a loser—or alone. But that didn’t save me from eternal loneliness.

  By my foot, a gray fluff-ball meowed, rubbing his spine against my ankle.

  “Feel like flying up into a tree, Skitz?” I joked, with a weak smile, as I placed the guitar on the ground and let my heart sink down with it.

  The cat looked up at me, his big yellow eyes soft and round.

  “Okay.” I chuckled lightly. “Maybe I like you a little.”

  “I should hope you like me a lot, since you’re marrying me.”

  “Hey, Mike? Did you win?”

  “Nah.” He placed his hand down on the grass, the rest of his body sinking into it. Skittles leaped onto his front paws, ready to run if Mike was a threat, but then he just closed his eyes without re-adjusting his position and started purring. Mike laughed at him. “Your dad’s too quick. He beat me twice.”

  “He never beat my mom, you know? Not once,” I said.

  “Yeah? I didn’t know that. I don’t really remember much from the time when he lived with you.”

  I shrugged.

  Mike jerked his head toward my bedroom window then. “You’re not upstairs putting on your war paint?”

  “It won’t take long once I start.”

  “Hm.” He picked a strand of grass and curled it around his finger.

  “What’s hm?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this, baby? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  “About going to the ball?”

  “No.” Mike pushed up off the ground, shuffling over to kneel in front of me. “About marrying me. I’ll be okay if you changed your mind.”

  “Why would you think I don’t want to marry you?”

  A watery glaze glimmered under the light of the sun in his eyes. “Since I asked you, you haven’t been happy. Not really.”

  “I’m trying, Mike.”

  “I know. But is trying enough, Ara? Am I enough?” The pain in his words came through with the firm clasp of his fingers around my hips. Mike was scared, I could feel it. He had as much to lose here as I did. I mean, was love enough for this relationship to work when it wasn’t enough for David and I?

  “I just need to get away from here, I think, Mike.” My voice trembled. “I think I wanna go home.”

  “Ara. Baby.” He pulled the swing into him, wrapping me up in his arms. “That’s fine. We’ll go. We’ll leave tomorrow, if you like?”

  “I would, but I think we better plan it properly first.” I flashed him a grin, which he returned.

  “Aw, baby girl. You’re gonna be so happy. I promise. I’ll buy you a house and give you everything you want.” He squeezed me way too tight, forcing me to hold my breath against the base of his jaw. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, Mike.”

  And that was the truth. It felt good. Normal. Like everything would once again be right again in the world, even if it wouldn’t ever be right in my soul.

  * * *

  The quiet whispers of my family lilted up the stairs, carrying my mind back from the hold of a masked stranger’s gaze. Her blue eyes stared out at me from a place and time I no longer belonged. She was the lie after the truth, hiding behind this beauty in a blue dress. And I couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  Somewhere, at some point, I’d split in two, and the innocent, dream-believing girl that tragedy left behind disappeared when David ran away with my heart. I was his picture of beauty, created by him, for him, but I’d never feel his cool fingers under the ribbon of my corset. The only thing left was the other half of me: the shell. And I’d dusted enough shimmer powder over my skin that I could almost disguise myself as a sparkly vampire. No one could see the depths of my darkness underneath.

  Except Mike. He knew there was something different—that something had changed. But I bet he never even conceived of the idea that my depression went so deep that fleeting thoughts of suicide were slowly creeping into possibility. I’d overheard him tell my dad he was worried that I might be depressed. My dad just said it wasn’t a chance but a fact, and all we could do was be here for me. But the ever-watchful eye of my fiancé was getting overbearing.

  While I’d been lost in my own thoughts, the night had fallen into a complete and eerie silence; the crickets hushed, even the voices downstairs. Nothing I’d ever known could make the night go that still, except for a vampire lingering in the shadows.

  I spun around and darted to my window with my heart in my throat, hope filling me as I held back the call of a name on my lips. But as I searched the darkness frantically, the quiet street below revealed nothing but a flickering streetlamp and that same emptiness I’d come to hate. The only thing out there was the beginning of another night. And for the rest of my life now, that’s all there’d ever be.

  Sadly, I closed my bedroom door and left it all behind, stopping when Dad looked up at me from the base of the stairs, his eyes brimming with tears.

  “You okay, Dad?”

  “You look so pretty, honey. Just like your first ballet concert.”

  “Uh, yeah, well, just don’t lift me onto your shoulders this time.”

  “Why not? You’re still my little girl.”

  I stopped on the last step. “I’m not a little girl, Dad.”

  “Honey, you’ll always be my little girl.”

  “I wonder what’s taking Ara so lo—” Mike stopped dead as he walked in, his lips splitting into a pearly gr
in, eyes sparkling behind a black mask. “Wow!”

  “Hey, Mike.”

  He leaped up onto the step. “Look at you.”

  “You like it?” I brushed my hands down my hips.

  He shook his head slowly, considering my dress. “More than the outfit I saw you in when I re-pierced your ear.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed at us.

  I looked away, clearing my throat. I’d asked Mike to help me with my earring earlier while I was getting dressed, not really thinking about the fact that I was only in my underwear when he knocked on the door. But at least I got to show them off to someone. They were the prettiest, laciest and newest things I owned, and they deserved to be seen.

  “Come on then.” Vicki held a camera up and waved us off the stairs. “Time for pictures.”

  “Really?” I groaned, taking Mike’s arm.

  “Ara, this might be the last ball you ever go to,” Vicki reasoned. “I want memories.”

  “Okay.” I sighed, and Mike grinned at me with a kind of enthusiasm that wasn’t there when he was forced to escort me to the high school dance last year.

  Vicki posed us in awkward and weird places to snap her memories. I stood in the warm embrace of my fiancé, smiling for reasons I could only pretend I felt, watching everything move as if it were a film with no volume. The voices, the wind, the laughter, it was all gone. Everything in my world was kind of silent, empty. Wrong. This should have been David; it was always supposed to be David.

  But once upon a time, I’d have said the same about Mike.

  Everything was back where it was before—before the universe flipped the hourglass, before I lost everything in my world that grounded my soul, and before I ever knew anything about David Knight.

  It was an odd learning curve, and a painful one, but I just had to accept it. When I got home, when I landed in Perth and went home to Mike’s house, she wouldn’t be there. Mom was gone. Harry was gone. And I had to move on.

  This was moving on.

  I closed my eyes and let the world pass by for a moment, feeling it whirl like the snow in a musical glass dome. When I opened them again, fairy lights twinkled from the tall white trunks of bare trees, and soft music eased my soul as sound suddenly enhanced my world again.

  An almost magical glow seemed to surround the old council chambers, standing majestically as the backdrop to the candle-lit space, where masked dancers twirled with hypnotic cadence, sweeping and bowing to the harmonics of a string quartet.

  Mike and I stood at the cusp of the wooden dance floor, surrounded by the beautiful gowns, but my eyes delighted only in the canopy of stars observing the Masquerade from a kingdom above.

  “Do you recognize anyone?” Mike asked.

  I shook my head, feeling a little lost, like I was alone in the crowded space. The dance floor, the stairs, and even the balcony off the council chamber were filled with people—all masked, just like me—but for all I felt in my soul, the court could’ve been completely empty.

  “Would you like some refreshments before we dance?” Mike gestured toward the balcony.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Would you like to dance?” He bowed, offering his hand.

  “Not really.”

  “Aw, come on, Ara. First rule of a dance is never to refuse a dance,” he said with a grin, stealing my hand.

  I gave in with a warm smile and sunk into a curtsy. Then, with one step over the threshold of the dance floor, he swept me into his safe, strong arms, and we joined the flow of dancers like a rose petal on the breeze, never missing a beat. I followed each step of Mike’s wide stride elegantly, closing the movement with a short, gliding turn.

  “When did you learn to dance like this?” I asked, impressed.

  “Well, a guy’s gotta know a few tricks if he’s gonna get the girl.” He flashed his cheeky grin, and a small flutter started my heart.

  “I like this new you,” I said, turning my head to rest it on his shoulder.

  “Good, because this is the me you’ll be marrying.”

  The music faded out then, and the room came to a standstill. Mike kissed my hand and bowed, while the rest of the crowd softly applauded the musicians.

  “Can we go find Em and the others now?” I asked.

  “Of course. This is your night. We can do whatever you want.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come on, we’ll go to the balcony. It’ll be easier to see from up there.”

  As we passed through the crowd, I leaned closer to Mike, feeling too many eyes on me. “What are they staring at?”

  “You,” he stated.

  “Why? Is my bra showing?” I quickly tucked my thumb around the rim of my dress.

  “No, baby.” He laughed, pushing my hand down. “It’s just because you’re the brightest thing in the room.”

  Shrinking into myself, I glanced at the other costumes: pale gray, coffee, burgundy, black. No blue. I was the only girl in a color this bright.

  “Great. I feel like a wasp at a bumblebee convention.”

  Mike laughed. “Well, you look like the flower.”

  “Erg.” I rolled my eyes, but secretly gushed.

  We stopped by the marble balcony railing and looked down onto the room of dancers, swirling under a blanket of stars, and I felt like a god between worlds.

  “Wow, it’s so much prettier from up here.”

  “Yeah. These Yanks really know how to throw a shindig.”

  “Yanks?” I raised a brow at him.

  He just grinned, inching away from the slap he expected. But as he went to lean on the railing again, he stopped, watching a young couple giggle their way into the darkness on the other side of the chamber court.

  “What’s down there?”

  I looked, too. The gardens were dark tonight. The lights that usually lit the paths winding through the endless trees and wide plains of grass were switched off; an obvious attempt to deter hot-blooded teens. Little did the planning committee realize, dark spaces made it so much easier to be… ‘romantic’.

  “Do you think your friends might be down there?”

  “Nah,” I said with a sigh. Above, the clock on the tower chimed nine, its hollow, long tolls haunting and dreary, like warning bells down the streets of death and plague.

  Mike nodded a few times, his eyes narrowing. “You’re missing him, aren’t you?”

  I drew a breath and nodded. There was no point in lying.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his clasped hands.

  “Mike,” I started, “it’s—”

  “Hey, there you are.” Before I even spun around, Emily wrapped her arms over my shoulders and squeezed. I gave Spencer, who stood awkwardly in the dust cloud of Emily’s enthusiasm, a short wave. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys.”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I stood back from her, swiping my hair from my face. “But we’re here now. And look at you!”

  Emily twirled around to show her long blonde ponytail in a spiral down her back, and the perfect fit of the dress.

  “I can’t believe how grown-up you look,” I finished.

  “Yeah, my mom says—” She stopped and looked beside us when Mike and Spencer shook hands. “Oh yeah, sorry guys. Um, Mike, Spence; Spence, Mike.”

  “G’day.” Mike grinned.

  “So you’re Ara’s fiancé?” Spence looked at me for confirmation.

  “The one and only,” I said. Mike grinned as I linked my arm with his. He liked that. I could tell. And I liked that he liked it. “So, Spencer? You scrub up nice,” I added.

  “Yeah, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Ara.” He appraised my gown.

  “Where’s Alana?” I asked.

  “Haven’t seen her.” Emily shrugged.

  We looked over the crowd of dancers for a moment. Each one was hidden beneath a mask of feathers or sequins, their hair drawn up in dazzling ringlets or left down to flow over their shoulders. It seemed futile to find a friend among them. Then I spotted a girl at the center of the danc
e floor with a tall, sandy-blond-haired boy. Her cream-and-black dress with pink accents of lace took my breath away, fitting Alana’s description of her hand-me-down perfectly.

  Mike looked over my shoulder, following my gaze. “Wow. That’s quite a dress.”

  “Oh, wow.” Emily sighed, leaning against the railing beside me.

  “And Ryan looks so… vintage,” I added.

  “They make a good couple,” Mike noted.

  “Yeah. I’m a good matchmaker.” Emily grinned, hiding her piercing, Mike-directed gaze of abhorrence under her mask.

  I got the sense then that maybe she really did hate him.

  “Well, Miss Ara.” Spencer bowed to me. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

  Emily gave me a smile of approval.

  “Very well, Mr. Griffin. It would be my pleasure,” I said in a formal English accent, then hooked my arm over Spencer’s.

  Mike walked behind us with Emily on his arm. I felt a little sorry for him, knowing Emily would probably step on his toes deliberately.

  We danced, the flow and magic of the masquerade concealing my pain and emptiness for just a while. Passed from arm to arm, I danced with about six different guys, and when I finally fell back into Mike’s embrace as the first stroke of midnight chimed through the air, my head was swirling like a room full of butterflies.

  The enchanting tone of the evening burst into a spectrum of color above us then, with blue and pink electrifying the skies before dissipating into yellows and whites as they dissolved among the stars. Everyone stood still, tilting their faces upward, while the clock chimed each agonizing toll of realization.

  Midnight.

  The music played on, saddening my heart with its desultory notes. All the beauties around us smiled in awe at the colors of the end, while my heart fought to ignore the somber melody of loss and separation.

  He wasn’t coming. David really wasn’t coming.

  Mike pulled me close, pressing his fingers firmly between my shoulder blades. “I love you, Ar. You know that, don’t ya?” he whispered.

  Wiping the tears from my lips and cheeks, I looked up at his face, hearing the last chime of midnight pass and take all my hopes with it. “Mm-hm.”