Dark Secrets (14 page)

I pulled my hand down
from the glass, watching the lone print disappear behind the steam
again. I wasn't really alone anymore, and when I thought about
getting out of the shower, getting dressed and going to school, I
actually felt a bubble of excitement.

In my wardrobe, I
threw on my light denim shorts and a pink tank top, then wandered
out to my room. The rug, weaved entirely out of dirty laundry,
stared back at me; its evil laughter rising over my music, making
demands for the release of my shoes.

“
Where are they?” I
asked myself, lifting a sweater and some jeans then tossing them
beside the empty laundry basket.

“
You nearly ready for
school, Ara?” Vicki asked, opening my door without
knocking.

“
Yeah. I just can't
find my shoes.”

“
Well, I'm not
surprised.” She laughed.

“
It’s not my fault.”
I stood up, dusting my hands off. “My wardrobe got gastro and threw
up all over my room.”

“
Why don't you go
down and have breakfast. I’ll find them for you—maybe even tidy up
a little.”

I smiled at her, about
to accept, when I spotted one shoe under my bed. “Ooh, there it
is.”

She walked in and
started picking up clothes as I sat on my bed and slipped my shoe
on. “Here.”

“
Oh, thanks. Where
was it?” I asked, taking the shoe from her.

“
Near your dresser.
How it got so far away from the other one, I don't
know.”

I shrugged and, seeing
my favourite sweater in the pile of clothes over Vicki’s arm, stood
up and tugged it out. “I never wash this.”

“
Why?” She looked
horrified.

“
I just…it was
Mike’s.” I hugged it to my chest.

“
Very well.” She took
it from me and laid it over my chair. “Now, go down and eat,
please. You’ll be late for school.”

“
Okay.” I grabbed my
schoolbag. “Bye.”

After scoffing down a
bowl of oatmeal, I practically ran to the front door.

“
A little eager
today, Ara?” Dad said, dropping a quick kiss to my cheek as I
passed him.

All I could do was
grin.

“
Want a ride to
school?”

“
Dad? Why don’t
you
try walking for once?”

“
I have to go ‘round
the front. Easier to drive.”

“
Wow, that’s so lazy.
Walking’s better for you.”

“
I’ve got better
things to do with my time.”

“
Oh, really? Like
what? Work on that heart attack you’re trying to have?” I nodded
toward his travel mug, which we both knew was full of coffee with
way too much cream and sugar.

He saluted me with the
mug, taking another sip as he walked away. “Have fun at school,
honey.”

“
Bye,” I said,
closing the front door behind me, but my conceited smirk went flat
when I heard a low growl coming from the end of the porch.
Skittles, with his fluffy grey tail thrashing about, sat curled up
like a porcupine, hissing and snarling at something; I followed his
evil-kitty stare to a boy standing across the road. Just standing
there—a guitar case by his feet, his eyes on his phone, one hand in
his pocket, wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his
elbows. My heart dropped into my feet. David.

“
Psst. Shut up,
Skitz.” I stomped on the floorboards.

The cat startled to
silence, but his tail kept thrashing.

I wondered if David
was maybe waiting for me—if he even knew I lived here. Then again,
everyone knew which house was Mr Thompson’s, so it was a safe bet I
lived here too.

As I leaped off the
porch steps and onto the grass, the frogs in my belly jumped up to
my chest, making my heart pound. I didn't know what to say to
him—or if he’d even remember me. But that was silly. Why wouldn't
he remember me?

All around me, the
summer sun warmed the ground, making the grass look almost yellow.
I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, tasting the
flavour of fresh dew blowing in on the breeze. When I opened them,
David looked up, meeting my smile with a grin. And I practically
floated across the road then. He looked really sexy in that shirt;
it wasn’t black, like I first thought, but dark grey, and way too
much for my hormones to handle. I almost didn’t care if I freaked
him out with my ogling. It was his own fault for looking so
sexy.

“
Hi, David,” I said
cheerfully—maybe too cheerful.

“
Hello, Ara.” He took
my backpack and tossed it over his free shoulder. “You look
pretty.”

I bit my lip,
practically melting into a puddle. “Um, thanks.”

He laughed. “Okay, now
you just look pink.”

Both hands slowly rose
to cover my cheeks. “Well, don't say nice things to me
then.”

“
Okay. But that
doesn't leave me a whole lot to say.”

I smiled up at him,
forgetting every thought when the morning sun beamed down across
his hair, highlighting the golden tones, making every strand
obvious. I just wanted to run my fingers through it. “I like your
hair,” I said, instantly snapping to the realisation that I just
said it out loud.

“
Thank you.” He
grinned mischievously, sweeping his hand through it. “I uh…I grew
it myself.”

I laughed.
“Sorry—forgot to put my brain-to-mouth filter on this
morning.”

“
That’s okay.” He
winked at me. “I like you that way.”

“
Good.”

He dropped his hand
into his pocket, and my eyes strayed from his hair to his jaw then
down to the top button of his shirt, sitting slightly open, showing
golden skin underneath.

“
Ara?” David
said.

“
Hm?”

“
Stop biting your
nails, sweetheart.” He gently pushed my fingers away from my
mouth.

“
Oh.” I stuffed both
hands tightly into my pockets. “Didn’t realise I was.”

After a soft smile, he
started walking. “I know. You do that a lot.”

“
I know.” I grinned
sheepishly, then pointed to his guitar case. “What kind of guitar
is it?”

“
Oh, uh—” He looked
down at the case. “It’s a Maton. Twelve string.”

“
Nice.” I nodded,
yawning.

“
Did you sleep last
night?”

“
Actually? I did. For the first time in months.” I smiled, but
dropped it instantly, realising my response could be bait for more
questions.
Please don’t
bite.

“
You don’t normally
sleep?” he bit.

“
Uh. Well. I um.
Yeah, of course I do. I just meant that…” Wow, I’d really put my
foot in that one. “I stayed up late talking with a friend last
night.”

“
But you said you
slept.”

“
I did. After.” I
looked at my feet, wishing he’d just drop it.

“
Who was your
friend?”

“
Huh?”

“
Who were you taking
to last night?”

“
Oh, a guy I grew up
with—in Australia.”

“
A
guy
?”

“
Yes.
A guy
.”

“
And he’s…a
friend?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Was he a school
friend?”

“
Not really. I mean,
he was a few years ahead of me in primary school, then I went to an
all girls’ high school, so, you know, we played at school as kids,
but not once we grew up.”

“
What did you do
then?”

I laughed. “Then? He
practically lived at my house—or me at his.”

David nodded, his eyes
straying slowly forward. “And you miss him—that’s why you stayed up
talking?”

“
I—” I closed my fist
around my thumb, resisting the urge to munch it. “I don’t really
know.”

“
You don’t know if
you miss him?” he confirmed.

I felt his eyes on me,
felt him searching inside me, sending my shoulders around my
ears.

“
How many years
ahead?” he asked out of nowhere.

“
What?
Who?”

“
This guy.” He
smiled. “You said he was a few years ahead in school. How much
older is he than you?”

“
A little over
three,” I said, growing taller without the tension shrinking
me.

“
So…he’s twenty?”
David asked.

“
Yup. Twenty one in
May next year.”

David nodded. “And
what about you? When’s your birthday?”

“
What, you can’t
guess that by studying some random feature of mine?” I said
sarcastically. “Like my piano hands?”

“
I
could
find out for myself—if I wanted to. But I’d rather ask
you.”

“
Well, when you put
it that way…March seventeen.”

His eyes narrowed
slightly. “Pisces, huh?”

“
Yup.”

He chuckled, shaking
his head. “That explains a
lot
.”

“
Hey! What do you
mean by that?”

“
Nothing,” he said.
“It’s just funny how much that fits you.”

“
Says he who’s known
me for a day.”

He smirked.

“
Hey, you two.” Emily
waved before we reached the top of the stairs.

“
Hi, Emily.” I waved
back, noticing that, aside from her blue top, we’d pretty much
dressed the same.

“
Good morning,
Emily.” David nodded in his cool, charismatic way.

“
Ready to start
another day?” she said.

“
Alwa—”

“
Em. David.” Ryan
called, running out from the school.

“
What’s wrong?” Emily
asked.

“
It’s Nathan, guys,”
he said, coming to stand beside us.

“
Who’s Nathan?” I
looked at David.

“
Oh, right. Sorry,
Ara, you wouldn’t know about this,” Ryan said, “but, he’s our star
quarterback—he got sick last week. Hasn’t been able to get out of
bed.”

“
Oh, that’s awful.
What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

“
Well, at first they
said it was a really bad flu or something, but my mom just spoke to
his mom in the pharmacy.” Ryan looked at David. “He’s had to go to
the hospital, man. They couldn’t keep him at home any
longer.”

“
What? No!” Emily
covered her mouth. “Will he be okay?”

“
They’re not sure.
He’s on machines and stuff to keep him alive, but, you know Mrs
Rossi? She was crying ‘cause she doesn’t have insurance—said she
can’t get Nathe the care he needs.”

Emily covered her
mouth. “What are they gonna do?”

“
Are you all good
friends with Nathan?” I asked.

“
Everyone is—he’s
just one of those guys, y’know?” Ryan added.

David’s fist clenched
slightly by his side.

“
Well, why don’t we
do a fundraiser?” I shrugged. “We could put on a concert and charge
people to come—give the money to Nathan’s mom.”

As if a light bulb had
been switched on, they all looked up at me with a shimmering glint
in their eyes. “Oh my God, Ara.” Emily grabbed my forearm and
started bouncing on her toes. “That’s such a good idea.”

“
Yeah, good one,
Ara.” Ryan grinned.

“
We should get moving
on this right away,” Emily said. “I’ll talk to Mrs Hawkins about
it…er, if you don’t mind, Ara.”

“
Oh, yeah, Em, this
is better your project than mine.”

“
Great.” She beamed,
rocking back on her heels. “Well, I’ll get things moving, and maybe
have everyone meet in the auditorium at lunch if they want
in?”

I nodded,
shrugging.

“
Okay.” She went to
walk away, then stopped. “Way to go, newbie.”

“
Yeah. You rock,”
Ryan said before skipping off, looping his arm over Alana’s
shoulder when she came out from the school.

And David and I were
finally alone again. Or maybe just I was. He seemed distracted
again, wearing a kind of smile I thought belonged only to me—the
tight-lipped one that covered a set of gritting teeth.
“David?”

He bent down to pick
up his guitar case, his arched brows prompting my question as he
stood up again.

“
Are you okay?” I
asked.

With a soft smile, the
edgy concern lifted from his face and he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m
fine.”

* * *

While Miss Chester
prattled on up the front of class, I drew pictures of eyes all over
my notepad; sad eyes, smiling eyes, secretive eyes, but all of
them
David’s
eyes—not that they really looked anything like his. I doubted
even a camera could capture the true beauty of his face. Even my
memory did it no justice.