by A. M. Hudson
She placed her hands on her hips again. “This is lu dicrous, Ara. I thought you’d get past this. He
loves you. Love! Do you understand that? Nothing else matters.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said softly. “It’s not just the kid thing.”
“Then what else is there? Please, just tell me?” She sat beside me.
“I want to. But David, as you well know, has secrets. It’s one of those secrets that’s keeping
me from being with him.”
She nodded. “I always knew there was something odd about him. So, what is it? What could
be so bad that you can’t be with him?”
I rubbed my forehead. “You’re missing the point of the word secret, Em.”
She breathed out. “Can I ask David?”
“Well, sure, but he’s not coming back?”
“Honestly, Ara—” She shook her head and walked over to my desk chair, then pull ed her
phone from her bag. “You’re so nineteenth-century sometimes.”
Hm, didn’t think of that.
Emily focused on the screen, pinning the number in, then held it to her ear.
If he answers this call, I don’t know how I’ll cope with being so close to him as j ust on the
other end of the line.
With my body completely stiff, I watched Emily tap her foot while she waited. “Jason?” her
voice rose in shock, her eyes widened. “Where is he?”
I didn’t know she even knew about Jason.
“Just tell me where he is,” she said, then went quiet. “Well, does he know what Ara’s gone
and done?”
Hey, I scoffed silently. I re sent that comment. I haven’ t gone and done anything at all. I’m
marrying the man I love, that’s it. Am I not allowed to try to be happy?
She bit her lip, breathing in through her nose. “She’s marrying him, Jason.”
I tried to force my br ow into a dismissive position to hide my obvious confusion at the way
she spoke to Jason—like she’d known him for years, or had, at the very least, met him before.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “He’s your brother.” She hung up the phone and looked at me; I felt
like a school kid in big trouble from the principal. “Are you leaving, Ara? Is he taking you back to
Perth?”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
“Oh, God. This is going to kill David. You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?”
“He knows. He said goodbye already.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well, it’s true. Look. Stay out of it, Em. It’s my life.”
“And I’m your friend. That means I get to tell you when you’re being a dumb cow!”
“Hey!” I scolded.
She looked at me with one brow slightly arched, her hands on her hips. “Ara. You’re being a
dumb cow.”
“No. I’m not. I’m being sensible. I’m doing what any normal, sane teenager should do.”
“That’s the point! Don’t you get it? You’re a teenager. You don’t have to make smart
choices.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, exactly. And I have the freedom to say and do stupid things because I’m young, Ara.
And so are you. And if you let love go now for reasons only an adult would care about, you’ll regret
it for the rest of your life.”
“What would you know about regret? You’re the same age as me.”
She looked down at her feet. “I have my regrets.”
“Yeah, well, for me, David won’t be one of them. It’d be worse if I stayed with him.”
“What is wrong with you?” She tossed her phone onto my bed. “Do you need a brain scan or
something? It’s David!” She waved flat palms at me. “David freakin Knight, Ara, not just some
random guy.”
“Just stop it, Em. Okay!” I thru st my body forward a li ttle, tightly holding back tears. “He’s
gone! He’s not coming back, and I don’t want to talk about it!”
“I’m sorry.” She shrunk back. “It’s just. You guys were happy once. You don’t look happy
to me anymore.”
“I am.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
I held my scowl for only a second longer un til the look on her face forced me into laughter.
I’d never seen her look so serious. Her lips twisted up under smiling eyes, then she released the tight
hold and let herself laugh, too.
“Do you realise, we just had our first fight?” I said.
“Yeah.” She slumped back down on the bed. “And it was over a boy.”
“Erk,” I said, rolling my eyes, “we’re so normal.”
She sniffed once and, keepi ng her eyes on the carpet, said, “I am sorry, Ara. It’s not my
place to interfere, I just—”
“You care?”
She nodded. “I don’t like him.”
“Who?”
“Mike.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t like how he calls you baby and girl all the time.” Her nose crinkled. “Don’t you find
it degrading.”
“Why would I?” I shrugged. “He’s not trying to control me or own me by using a pet name.”
“But you’re not his pet. That’s just the point.”
“And he doesn’t treat me li ke a pet, either. It’s a term of endearment. I, unlike you, have an
appreciation for verbal affection.”
“Ha. You sound like David.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. He says stuff like that all the time.” She softened. “Er, well, said.”
Said, huh? So, now David’s past tense, too. I shrugged. “Guess he was starting to rub off on
me.”
“Guess so.”
“It started out as a way to tease me, you know.” I smiled at a distant memory.
“What was?”
“Baby. The way Mike always calls me baby. It started because he was always faster,
stronger and smarter than me. No matt er how hard I tried, I could never beat him at any game or
race or anything. So I’d sulk.” I shrugged agai n. “He’d always call me a baby, then, after a
while, he just started saying it after pretty much everything he said, until one day it changed—there
was a warmth behind the word that hadn’t been there before, and I—” I smiled, “—I kinda liked
that. I’m the only one he ever used terms of endearment with. It made me feel special.”
“I guess I know what you mean. We kind of let almost anything go when they make us feel
special, don’t we?” Em twiddled her fingers in her lap. “I used to think David...” she bit her lip and
seemed to hiccup her words to a stop.
“David what, Em?” I leaned around to look at her face.
“Nothing.” She forced a smile and stood up. “B ut, let the record show; I don’t like Mike. I
don’t think he’s good enough for you.”
“But he is good for me.”
“They’re not the same.”
“Are in my world,” I scoffed. “So, anyway, how do you know Jason?”
Emily stiffened, going a little pale.
“Oh, now you have to tell me,” I said, pointing at her.
With arms dropped to her sides, she turned away and walked over to my window, heavy, as
though gravity had gifted her with iron legs.
“Em, are you okay?”
“It’s nothing, Ara. Really. It was just a summer fling—it ended.” She braved a glance at me
as I stood beside her, but her fake smile didn’t hide her tears.
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” I said.
The c
orners of her lips twitched, turning downward. “I fell in love with him.”
“Love?”
“Mm-hm.” She wiped her nose w ith the back of her wris t, nodding. “We dated for the
summer and then, when it got cold and the fun of the sunshine disappeared, he just left.”
“Left? As in—he moved, or he just didn’t come back?”
“Just gone.” She stood back, wiping her face again. “Without a goodbye—without anything.
David was my only link to Jason. He was the only one who was there for me when it all fell apart.
And you giving up on David, when all he wants is to keep you—I feel like I’m losing Jason all over
again.”
“So, you never even spoke to him again—to Jason?”
“Can you hear how fast my heart is beating?” She touched her chest. “That was the first time
I’ve heard his voice in nearly a year.”
“Why did he leave? Did he say anything before…?”
“No—that was the worst part. We were so happy, and then, all of a sudden, he just left—
never spoke to me again. I tried to ask David, but he said it was just the way his brother is, and that
he’s sorry.” Emily sighed and looked away. “He was good to me—David, when Jason left me i n
pieces. David was a really good friend. I don’t want to see him hurting, and I know he’d be hurting
right now.”
“Emily,” I started cautiously, “did Jason ever seem a little strange to you?”
“Strange?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know—it doesn’t matter. Look, I’m sorry he left you, and I know it
sucks that I get the...the one that would’ve stayed, only to leave him for another man, but I can’t be
held responsible for what Jason did to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Ara. I didn’t mean to project my issues into our friendship.”
“How analytical of you.” I giggled a little. “You sound like my step-mum.”
“Sorry. I took counselling over this. You learn a thing or two.” Her brown eyes glistened
under her smile, making her green dress the perf ect colour for my emotions; jealousy. She just
looked so fragile and feminine when she cried. I could never look that good when I cried.
I wanted so badly to t ell her the truth about Jason and David—to make her feel better about
why he lef t her—but I cou ldn’t. “What was Jason like?” Aside from, what was it David
said?...Malevolent. “Was he sweet, like David?”
The fold of Emily’ s brow flattened and her lips turned into a warm smile. “Sweet, like
David? No. Jason was sweet—so, so sweet, like, you have no idea, but when David says he and
Jason are different—he’s not kidding.” Her l ips turned down slightly. “We were going to be
together forever, Jason and I . We talked about marriage and what we’d do wh en we g rew old.
Which is why I was so hurt and confused when I went to meet him one day and...he never showed.”
Emily looked out the window at the pouring rain . “I waited for hi m until the sun went down, and
when the morning came the next day—I went back, waited again. Seven days passed until, one day,
when I turned around to look over my shoulder, I saw him, in the distance—but it wasn’t him. It
was David.” She lifted her hand from the fold of her arms and wiped another tear. “He held me in
his arms while I cried—told me that Jason would never come back, and that I had to try to move on.
So—” she looked at my shocked expression and smiled, “you can see why David’s so important to
me.” I nodded. “I never knew. David never told me.”
“He wouldn’t. It wasn’t his story to tell.”
“I’m so sorry, Em. I wish it had been David you fell for.”
“David isn’t like Jason.” Emily’s tone rose upward. “He might be now, but he didn’t have
half the heart Jason had—not back then. He changed when he met you, Ara. He was cold and mean,
before.” I frowned, disbelieving. “Cold and mean? I know he was a little different, but not that much,
right?” Emily scoffed. “You just never saw nasty David. He could play the nice guy really well, but
it was fake. Even sometimes with me.” She closed her eyes for a second. “I’ve seen parts of nice
David, so I knew he was in there, but, he just flat-out didn’t care—for anyone.”
“But, I thought he was a model student—well-liked?”
“Yeah, like I said—” she folded her arms tighter, “—he played that role well, but anyone
closer to him—” her shoulders lifted a little, “—knew how mean he could be.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Mm-hm. But,” she looked right into my ey es, her sadness softening to a smile, “he could
also be really sweet, sometimes. Before he met yo u, if he didn’t like so meone or they irritated
him…” She shook her head and seemed to shiver a little. “It was only once he found you that he
became anything near as lovely as Jason.”
“But David told me Jason’s a little creepy,” I added with a hint of confusion in my voice.
“He is,” Emily stated with a nostalgic giggle. “He was sweet to me, but everyone else would
avoid him like the plague. He had a certain kind of presence about him—like he had a deep,
brooding evil inside him. But, I just f elt like he was misunderstood. He never hurt me or talked
harshly to me—but he didn’t think very highly of David.”
“They don’t get along?” I asked.
“They fought. A lot. I saw them fight once. Jason ordered me to leave—he didn’t want me to
get hurt. So, I left. In fact, that was the last time I ever saw Jason.”
“What were they fighting about?”
“Something to do with winter—about a family tradition. Davi d wanted Jason to be a part of
it, and Jason wanted to change ‘the rules’, as he said it.”
Set rules. Migration. Fairy-tale time-lines. “Do you think he still thinks about you?”
Emily stood quietly with her arms folded and her eyes on the dreary day. “I hope so. I think
about him from time to time. You never genuinely get over your first true love, Ara. This—” She
lifted my hand—the one with the engagement ring on it. “This will be a long journey for you.”
“I know—” I nodded. “Trust me, I know.”
“Just…” she took a breath, “if he steals yo u away—takes you back to Oz—will we still be
friends?”
“Of course,” I said, dragging the word out. “I think we’ll always be friends.”
“I hope so.” She hugged me. “I’ve never met anyone like you—you’re so real, you know,
you just, you’re honest with who you are.”
“You think?” I half groaned.
“Yeah. I mean, you have this weird bad joke thing; you dress how you wanna dress, and you
tell it to me straight—you aren’t even pretending not to be in love wi th David, even though you’re
marrying another man. I think that’s really cool.”
“Well, thanks, Em.” But there are many things I haven’t and won’t tell you straight.
Honesty? I don’t have a shred of honesty in my bones.
“So, what does Mike think—about David? Does he know how you feel?”
I nodded. “He’s okay with it.”
Emily sighed and looked out the window again. “I really don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him, Em. I do.”
“I know, but...I think that—” sh e hesitated, “if he weren’t here, you would’ve stayed with
David.”
“Nup.
” I shook my head with certainty. “I wouldn’t have.”
She supressed a conceited smile and shrugged one shoulder. “I think you would.”
As I waved goodbye to Emily, Mike stood behind me with one hand in the small of my back
and the other waving. “She hates me,” he said as her car disappeared down the street.
“No. She just doesn’t understand.” I sighed and closed the door. “S he thought David and I
were a sure thing. And so, all of this—” I held up my ring hand, “—i s a little sudden for her. It’s
barely been two weeks since he’s been out of the picture.”
“I get it.” Mike nodded. “No offence taken. So?” He stood ta ller and grinned. “Terminator
or The Mummy?”
“You choose. I’ll get popcorn.” I grinned.
Mike walked up the stairs and when the door to his room closed, I head ed into the kitchen.
Dad, sitting at the dining table, smiled at me from behind the newspaper.
“Any good news?” I asked, opening the pantry.
“No news is the only good news,” he scoffed.
I shook my head. “You know, Mum still said th at all the time.” The corners of my lips
pulled into a smile at her memory—a happy memory. Dad looked up at the wall, saying nothing.
Poor Dad.
With a soft sigh, I walked over to sit with him. “How long, Dad? Before you stopped
missing her when she left?”
He sniffed once and fold ed his paper over, looking intently at it as he laid it on the table.
“Never.” He looked into my eyes then. “I never stopped missing your mother. Sure, after about ten
years or so it got easier to bear.”
“Oh.” I looked out the front window.
“I did wrong by her, Ara, and I should never have done that. But when you love someone,
like I loved her, you will always miss them. I try not to think of her if I can.”
“But, you love Vicki, right? Doesn’t that make it easier?”
He smiled and nodded th oughtfully. “That’s the only reason I didn’t go back and beg your
mum to forgive me. I did love Vicki, I do love Vi cki, I mean,” he said with a laugh. “But, I loved
your mum, too.”
It hurt to hear him speak of her in the past tense like that.
“I don’t think you ever truly get over losing someone you love. But, it gets easier, after time
passes, and you can get through the days wi thout missing them so much,” he added, probably i n