Dark Secrets (87 page)

“
I know. He hates
goodbyes,” I lied.

“
But, he was my
friend!”

The waitress nearby
stopped walking and looked at Emily.

She cleared her
throat, blinking back tears. “He wouldn’t just leave without so
much as a goodbye.”

“
I'm sorry, Em. He
did.”

Her lip trembled.
“But…I knew him longer than you. Why would he just…that’s so
mean
.”

“
And you’re
surprised? You know what he’s like.”

“
Yes.” She scowled at me, like this was
my
fault. “But he was never mean
to
me
, Ara—never
intentionally, anyway.”

“
Well, I don't think
he left to be mean, Emily.”

“
Why did he leave—did
he tell you?”

I sunk my chin against
my hand with a huff. “His uncle got a call to move, and David had
to go with him.”

“
His uncle?” She
frowned. “David doesn't live with his uncle anymore.”

I sat taller. “How
do
you
know—did
you ever go over his house?”

“
House? Ara, he lives
in an apartment.”

My stomach dropped
through my legs and onto the floor. “So you went there?”

“
Of course I
did.”

“
Oh. Um.”
Ouch
. “Well, I'm sorry he didn't say goodbye, Em. Maybe he’ll
call you or something.”

She looked down at
her meal, folding her bottom lip over her top one, her eyes awash
with thought. “How are
you
coping then?”

“
Me?
Fine.”

She smiled, her eyes
glassy. “Liar.”

I laughed once. “No,
really, I knew this was coming, so I'm okay.”

“
How long have you
known?”

I shrugged.

“
Did you know at the
sleepover?”

“
Mm-hm.”

“
Oh.” She nodded. “
Not planning to
marry him
. So, that’s what you meant that
night?”

I nodded.

“
I'm sorry,
Ara.”

“
I'm
okay.”

She stared me down.
“Ara, I’m your
best
friend. You don't have to be strong around me.”

Funny thing was, she
had become my best friend, and I knew I could tell her about
David—and she’d understand. “Thanks, Emily. But I really am
okay.”

“
Did he say where he
was even going?”

“
No. Only that he
won't be back. That’s why we broke up.”

I could see the
thoughts flickering across her brow, in her eyes and over her lip,
changing, forming into questions. “Why didn't you go with him? I
mean, if I loved someone as much as you loved David, I would’ve
just jumped in his suitcase.”

I laughed. “Um, well,
because I didn't want to.”

“
Why?”

“
He…he wants a kind
of life that I…well, we want different things.”

“
Like?”

I swallowed. “Well, I
want a family one day, and he—”

“
He?”

“
He
wants a career in…”
Punishing naughty
vampires
. “Politics. He can't have
distractions, like a family.”
Or food he’s
in love with
.

“
Kids?” Emily practically spat. “You let David go because you
want
kids
?”

I nodded, knowing it
was a poor argument.

“
I don't get you,
Ara.” She dabbed her teary eyes with her napkin.

“
Not much to get, Em.
It is what it is.”

She shook her head,
leaving her burger abandoned on the plate. “It’s getting late. We
should probably go.”

“
Okay,” I said
softly, grabbing my bag as I stood up. “You okay, Em?”

“
Yeah.
I’m…yeah.”

I sighed, linking arms
with her as we left the cafe. “Hey, Em? About your dress? We only
have five shopping days left—are you sure you didn’t like any of
them?”

She grimaced. “No.
None of them really felt right. I don’t know, maybe I’ll just go in
jeans.”

“
Yeah, it might be a
bit tricky for Spence to co-ordinate his tux with
denim.”

“
Well, it’s no big
deal, really. If I don’t find a dress—I just won’t go.”

“
You have to
go!”

“
Why?”

“
I…” I frowned. “I
guess you don’t.” I hadn’t really thought of that. I was so caught
up in our only options being to either find her a dress or have her
go in something old and tatty, I never even considered the idea
that there were other choices to be made.

Which made me
realise…I had options, too—just like everyone else.

Maybe I’d been going
about this whole immortal-love-or-eternal-sadness thing all wrong.
I’d been feeling trapped by the choice between two paths—David or
Mike—but it was the confines of
my
own
mind narrowing those
choices.

I walked a little
taller as we reached the parking lot, thankful that Emily was
distant and distracted herself, allowing me to escape to my own
thoughts.

Fate had stepped in
and offered me an alternative to eternal blood. But maybe I didn't
have to choose either of them; maybe I could choose to be on my
own—to go in a different direction altogether and forget
love.

Since Mum died, I’d
spent so long blaming myself and living with guilt and anguish that
I’d forgotten I was a girl of my own rights, and that there was
such a thing as
choosing
how to feel.

Like when Dorothy made
it home from Oz, she learned that she was never really gone in the
first place—that all the fear and loneliness she felt in that world
was in her own mind.

I have control over my
own life, and I get to choose what it is that breaks
me...

* * *

‘
Dear
diary,

Power of choice
lasted about as long as it took me to sit in the nook of my window,
diary in lap, and look out at the empty night. Emily was
heartbroken about David tonight, and I wondered why he hadn’t at
least said goodbye to her. She was right. She never did anything to
hurt him. He shouldn’t have left her without a goodbye. And her
sadness magnified my own, making my sudden epiphany to be
independent null and void. Who was I kidding to think I could just
get over David and Mike by choosing to be happy on my
own?’

I chewed my pen for a
second, then rubbed my ankle, warming the icy chill that whistled
in under the slightly open pane.
Down in
the street, with the moonlight hidden behind a dense cloud, cars
and trees looked shadowed and intimidating. It seemed eerily still
out there, but the familiar feeling of being watched trickled past
my reflection, making me hold my breath a little. I wished it were
true—that I was being watched. By David. Except, a part of me was
deathly afraid it may be something else—or no one at all. I wasn’t
sure which was worse.

‘
I
never even leave my window open, anymore’,
I continued,
‘I don’t want the fresh
air, and I’m also a little afraid David’s creepy brother might
visit me in my sleep again.

That freaks me out
beyond words.’

A loud crack outside
startled me, and a bright flash turned my legs white for a
second.

I froze, unable to
inch the window closed so the menacing storm wouldn’t notice me
here. It grew in the sky above me, rolling in over the tops of the
trees, carrying every fear, every tear I ever cried, surrounding
me, cornering me in this tiny little space, only half covered by
glass.

Then, in a second
attempt to demonstrate its power, the thunder ricocheted off the
distant horizon with a sharp snap, receding to a dense growl. And I
believed it, submitting to the taut being it demanded I become. I
thought it had passed—my fear of storms. I’d tried so hard, for so
long, to grow up and get over it, and only a few weeks ago I
thought I’d succeeded, but it seemed that every time something
broke in my heart or my life, so crumbled that pillar of strength I
thought I’d built.

I looked across my
room to my door, knowing Mike would be out there—awake, waiting for
me. But he wouldn’t always be there to comfort me through these
thundery spells, unless I went with him to Perth.

If I stayed, I’d have
to learn to wait out the storms, alone—find a way to live while
they raged on.

I leaned my back
against the wall and let thought consume my expression for a
moment.

The call of the storm
howled outside, but inside, my heart battled with my mind, stirring
the force of a hurricane, waking my vault of indecision again,
opening the overly-traversed door of Mike versus David.

When the next crack of
thunder hit, though, I decided then and there that none of it
mattered right now. Safety. Warmth. Hiding from that storm was all
that mattered. That was all.

I ditched my diary and
ran, a something’s-going-to-grab-my-ankle kind of fear moving my
feet. But my heart jumped a beat of relief when I looked across the
dark, empty corridor to see Mike’s door open. I leaped toward his
bed—without touching his floor, and fell into him.

“
Hey. There you are.” He wrapped his arm around me as I
snuggled up as close as physically possible to his bare chest. “I
was wondering how long it’d take you to come in here.” His voice
sounded so light. I could tell he was laughing at me. But I didn’t
care; I just needed to feel his arms around me—needed to
feel
him
.

“
I’m sorry, Mike.
I—”

“
Shh, don’t be sorry,
baby. I was actually hoping you’d come in.”

“
You
were?”

“
Why do you think I
left my door open?”

I smiled, listening to
each beat of his heart come as reliably as the next, letting my
shoulders drop as Mike stroked my head, easing away the knot in my
stomach. “Thanks, Mike.”

“
Any
time.”

And I knew that was
the truth, more than an automated statement. Just like every moment
in the past, Mike had and would always be there to comfort me
through the storm. “Hey, Mike?”

“
Yeah,
baby?”

“
Do you remember the
year I told my mum I was too old to be afraid of
storms?”

“
Yeah.” He laughed. “I’m not sure if she actually believed you
or just
wanted
to
believe you.”

I snuggled my face
into his skin. “I think she knew the truth.”

“
I
knew the truth.”

“
I know you
did.”

“
Yet you always
freaked out when I tapped on your window during a storm,” he
mused.

“
Of course I did. How
scary do you think it is to completely believe The Bogeyman comes
out to get you in the thunder, and then see a face outside your
window?”

He laughed loudly.
“But you knew it’d just be me.”

“
Yeah. After a while,
anyway.” I closed my eyes and let myself remember laying with
him—in his arms, safe and happy all those nights. “Mike?” I
whispered.

“
Yeah?”

“
I…I.”

He laughed and kissed
the top of my head. “I know, baby. I know you’re
scared.”

“
No—”

“
Ara, baby, we’ll
talk in the morning. It’s after midnight—go to sleep.”

I swallowed my
courage and stuffed the words
I love
you
back down where I’d stored them all
these years, then closed my eyes and let Mike’s heartbeat take me
away to the peace and silence of dreamland.

A songbird announced
the arrival of morning, waking my mind from the best sleep it’d
found in ages. I inched one eye open, blinded by the glare of
sunlight streaming in—its soft, yellow glow making me smile
because, finally, the rain had passed.

If I could sleep like
that every night, I’d make it my occupation to go to bed. But the
bed moved under me, rising softly before warm, moist lips touched
my brow.

I pushed up onto my
hands and knees. “Mike!”

“
Hey, princess. You
slept well,” he noted.

“
Yeah.” I rubbed my
face, checking to see if his door was shut. It was. “I did,
actually.”

“
You
okay?”

I blinked a few extra
times to focus properly on the way the morning seemed to make his
skin look like honey and his eyes as warm as hot cocoa. He was very
beautiful in the morning. “Um, yeah
.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall
asleep in your bed.”