Dark Secrets (8 page)

“
Nope.” I wore the
face of denial, but the cheesy grin in my eyes must have changed
the wording on my neon sign to ‘Oh my God. I totally
do.’

“
I knew it.” She
pointed at me. “I knew it.”

I grabbed her finger
and pushed it down. “I do not like him.”

“
Oh, I’ve seen that look before. You have
Knight Fever
.”

“
Knight
what?”

“
It’s what we call it when all the girls
swoon
over David.”

“
I’m not swooning.” I
turned my face away.

“
He’s charming, isn’t he?” She leaned on her hand, her
thoughts a million miles away. “It’ll kill you, you know? Knight
Fever. Have you heard the
I don’t
date
speech yet?”

I drew a tight
breath.

“
Oh no. You have. Oh,
I thought—” Her head moved slowly from side to side. “Well, now I’m
sure he’s gay. I mean, I was sure you had to be his type. Us girls
have pretty much got it down to a science.”

“
Got what down to a
science?”

“
The girls David
Knight will and will not scope.”

“
What’s
scoping?”

“
Perving, you
know…checking out.” She shrugged.

Oh
. “He scopes?”

“
He’s a hot-blooded
male, Ara? Of course he does. Just, very subtly,” her tone dropped
its certainty. “Like, he never actually looks, but he’s nicer to
some than others. So, we’ve grouped together a sort of profiling on
him.”

“
Okay, that’s just
creepy,” I said, turning away.

“
It’s not—” she
paused when my dad glared at us, “—it’s not like that. It’s just a
bit of gossip. We don’t have, like, a file on him or
anything.”

“
So, you thought
I
was his type?”

“
Well, I was sure,
but…I guess not.” She shrugged, staring forward.

And that was it. A
shrug. That’s all I was? I really liked this guy, and I’d just been
dusted off with a shrug?

I drummed my fingers
on the desk, trying really hard to focus on the legends of Zeus,
but my stomach grumbled, making a fuss about my missed mid-morning
snack, and nausea brought the taste of bile up to the back of my
throat. “He seemed so genuine,” I turned and whispered to Emily,
letting my temper get the better of me. “He walked me to every
class. He was so nice, so sweet, and—” I told her about the
bathroom gossip and the theatrical kiss.

Her eyes rounded into
her brow. “Are you serious?”

“
Yes. So what’s the
deal then?”

“
He has. Never. Done.
That before,” she exclaimed.

“
Okay? So why did he
give me the speech?”

She slowly looked
away. “I can
not
figure that boy out.”

The bell rang before I
expected it to. I swallowed the last of my sentence and smiled at
Emily; she was so easy to be around. At first, I thought she was a
bit stuck up, but the last forty minutes suggested that might’ve
just been a nasty first assumption.

I jammed my books into
my bag and frowned at the elbow in my rib. “What?”

She nodded across the
room. “Look.”

At the end of my gaze,
David came into focus, hands wedged in pockets, shoulder on the
doorframe and a very sexy grin across his lips.

“
Hi,” I mouthed,
looking down at my bag before he could see my cheeks change
colour.

“
Mm-mm.” Emily shook
her head, hugging her books.

“
What’s
mm-mm?”

“
Hm, he likes you, Ara—he’s just trying not to
show
you.”

“
You think?” I looked
back at David, now talking to my dad.

“
Come on, girl. Even
Mr Thompson noticed the way he was staring at you.”

“
Oh no.” I hid behind
my hand. “It’s the touch-my-daughter-and-you-die speech.” I wanted
to melt—hide under my desk or slink away.

Emily hummed, smiling.
“They’re both so gorgeous.”

“
No, Emily,” I said flatly. “Only
one
of them is
gorgeous.”

“
I agree,” she said.
“Your dad is so much better.”

We both laughed, but
mine ended in a sigh.
“I hope Dad doesn’t
give David the creeps. I only just met the poor guy.”

“
Nah, he’s just
making the lines clear. Can you blame him?”

“
Yes. He’s breaking
all the rules I set out before I came here.”

“
You gave your dad
rules?”

I nodded.

“
Okay?” Dad said
loudly, patting David on the shoulder.

“
I had no intentions
of that, Mr Thompson,” David said, looking him right in the
eye.

I watched on in
horror. “Oh God, just hide me now.”

Emily laughed. “Let’s
just hope you don't receive the tail-end of that
lecture.”

“
Exactly what I was
just thinking.” She must’ve known my dad pretty well. It felt kind
of strange then to know I shared him with so many other kids. I
always knew that, but never experienced it firsthand
before.

Dad sat back at his
desk, and I chose the opportune moment, as he reached for something
on the floor, to slink quietly past—sinking my neck into my
shoulders.

Emily, however,
shamelessly stopped in front of the desk just to tell Dad how great
his lecture was today. Never mind that she wasn’t even listening. I
really quite liked Emily.

“
Hi, David,” I
said.

He just smiled and
took my bag as we walked into the corridor.

“
Look, I’m so sorry.
What was my dad saying to you?”

He laughed once. “You
know, it’s okay, Ara. If I was your father and I saw some punk kid
look at you the way I’m sure I was, I wouldn't have used
words.”

We stopped walking,
and I groaned, slamming my back against a row of lockers as I tried
to rub the ache of mortification from my temples.

“
Of course,” David
continued after a short breath, “if I’d known he was your dad, I
might’ve thought twice about—”

“
Hanging out with
me?” I dropped my hands to my sides. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told
you.” And so, I lost my first friend. I was in no way offended,
though. I knew going to the same school as my dad would have its
pitfalls. I’d accepted that.

“
No—” He stepped closer to me, shaking his head. “No, Ara, I
would have thought twice about staring at you that way—in
front
of him.” His words
softened on the end.

“
Oh. Okay. Well, uh,
I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier.”

“
Well, a
heads-up
would’ve been nice,” he said.

“
Touché.” I smiled,
surprised he remembered me saying that in music class.

“
So?” We both said at
the same time, then laughed.

“
You go.”

“
No, ladies first.”
He bowed his head.

“
Um, about
before—”

“
Okay, wait.” His hand came up like a stop sign; I snapped my
mouth shut. “What I said before about dating?” He paused. “It was a
mistake. I’m so used to having to give that speech, it just came
out on auto. But I didn’t mean it for
you
. I was just illustrating how I
don’t—I mean—I’m just not that kinda guy.” David’s fists clenched
beside him. “What I meant was that I’d never date any of
them
—I didn’t mean that
to include yo—I mean, what I'm trying to say is—” He looked
directly into my eyes, and all the students in the hall seemed to
disappear. “You’re not just any girl, Ara, I—” he swallowed,
“—I…
like
you.”

Uh? What? My lungs
went tight, like a softball just got lodged in my chest. I looked
around, waiting for a group of kids to jump out from behind the
lockers and laugh at me, screaming
April
Fools.
Despite it not being
April.

David laughed to
himself then. “I’m sorry. That was very forward of me. You don’t
even know me yet, and I—”

“
Um, David?” I stopped him. Oh my God. I had no idea what to
say. I mean, for all I knew, I had merely
imagined
him saying that and, at any
minute, I’d wake up, still in Dad’s class, Emily beside me and a
piece of paper stuck to the drool on my chin. I hugged my arms
across my waist. “This is all a little bit
weird.”

“
I’m sorry.” He
scratched his thumb across his upper lip, clearing his throat. “I
get it.”

“
No, you don’t get
it.” I chased after him as he turned away.

“
No. Really.” His
smile radiated sincerity. “I really do. You don’t have to
explain.”

“
But—”

“
Come on, we’re
late.” He walked a little faster then, but slowed and turned back
to face me, pointing his thumb toward the stairs. “It’s uh—it’s
this way.”

I walked after him,
forcing my fingertips into my own brows. I wished I could scream it
out—tell him exactly what I was thinking. But I just didn’t want to
seem creepy or desperate. And it was creepy, and probably a little
desperate, to like a guy I
just
met. Of course, that didn't change the fact that
I was practically envisioning my initials beside his surname.
Creepy.

David stopped walking.
“Did you just say something?”

“
I
uh—no.”
I hope not.
“Was I thinking out loud?”

“
Uh, I don't know.
Did you mean to say that?”

“
Say
what?”

“
You two!” A door
burst open beside us, and an evil-villain-type-scary woman, who
probably kidnaped Dalmatians, popped her angry face out. “Why
aren't you in class?”

“
Sorry, Miss Hawkins,
we were just going,” David said slowly.

“
Well, make it quick, please, the bell
has
rung.” She slammed the door,
leaving David and I alone again.

The awkwardness
separated us with an invisible line.

“
Lunch?” David said,
shattering the tension.

“
Lunch?”

“
Yeah. Can I…” He
stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking up from his shoes. “Can I
walk you to lunch after class?”

I smiled, a simple
smile. “Sure, why not.”

The words ‘coward’,
‘moronically deranged’ and ‘stupid, stupid, stupid!’ stared at me
from the page where an equation was supposed to be solved. But if I
couldn't find the formula for curing regret, how was chemistry
going to be any easier?

I dropped my face
against my hands, slamming my elbows on either side of my book,
while the whole conversation with David played in my mind like a
regret marathon on repeat. How could I have just stood there with
my giant gob open and let nothing out? I should’ve told him. I
should’ve said, “Thanks, David. I like you, too.” What is wrong
with me?

“
Everything all
right, Ara?” Miss Swanson asked.

I sat up straight and
grabbed my pen. “Um, yeah. All good.”

Satisfied, the teacher
turned back to the board and, one by one, the students followed
suit, leaving me and my scribble alone again.

My scribble became
pictures then, each word transforming into a snake or overlapping
circles and other various works of notepad art, all twining
together to form two words: Knight Fever. I had it bad—bad enough
to be drawing love hearts.

I scribbled them out,
practically ripping the page with my pen. It was way too early to
use
that
word.
This was in no way love at first sight—just my deep-seated need to
feel accepted manifesting itself into emotions that weren't real. I
nodded, satisfied with my psychological assessment. That would’ve
made Vicki proud. Except, I didn’t want it to be right. It felt
good to like a boy. It felt good to be that distracted. But I
couldn’t let that feeling divert me from the plan; to put my head
down, get through this year and hopefully, somewhere in the mix of
all my moving on, I might actually move on—without dragging anyone
down with me.

When the lunch bell
rang, I stayed in my chair, sharing my pendulum thoughts with the
Bunsen burner. He didn’t talk back, thankfully, but I wished he
would. If it was even a
he
. “Sorry,” I said, “If you’re a
girl, you have a lovely figure.”

“
I assure you, I’m a
boy,” it said in a velvety voice. And my cheeks went really hot
when I realised it wasn’t the Bunsen burner that spoke.

All I could do was
laugh, staring forward with a rock of tension making my head want
to sink down. “I’m...just gonna go hide under the desk.”