Tears of the Broken (16 page)

David took my books from me. “What did Miss Chester
want?”

Um,
I can’t tell you because it will open the question door. “She just
told me to pay more attention in class.”

David smiled warmly, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. “I’m
sure she did. So…you’re not focusing in class?”

“
Um,
no. Not really.” I looked down at my feet as we came to the
corridor of burgundy paint.

“
Why
not?” David stopped me before I could walk into the
auditorium.

“
Why
not what?”

“
Why
aren’t you concentrating?” He leaned a little closer, forcing me to
back up against the wall, one slow step at a time.

“
I
uh—”

“
Hey-you-two.” Emily popped up out of nowhere. “Ready to start
our first official meeting for the benefit concert?”

I
stood up off the wall and ducked out from under David’s arm. “Yup,
ready.”

“
Great. Did you get lunch, yet? Canteen lines are out the door
today.” She nodded toward her tray of food. “Mr. Grant said we can
eat lunch in the auditorium if we’re rehearsing.”

“
Yeah?” I said. “That’s great.” Gets us out of the
heat.

“
Yeah, I know, hey. So, I’ll go reserve us a table near the
stage. See you in a minute?”

“
Why
don’t you go ahead, Ara,” David said, handing me his and my bag,
“I’ll brave the canteen lines.”

My
fingers tightened around his backpack. I can’t believe I’m touching
something that belongs to him. “Sure, thanks, David.”

“
No
worries.” He turned away and I reached into my pocket, leaving the
bags on the ground beside Emily.

“
David. Money.”

“
Keep it.” He held his palm against my outstretched
hand.

“
No
way. Take it.”

“
Ara?” He gave me a vehement glare.

“
Come on, girl.” Emily grabbed my arm and dragged me gently
backward. “One thing I’ve learned about David is you don’t refuse
him if he wants to spend money on you.”

I
turned my head and looked at her as David walked away. “How
do
you
know
that?”

“
David and I have been friends for a while—” She shrugged and
watched after him. “We used to be closer, but…”

“
But?” I probed.

“
Nothing. We’re just not anymore—people grow
apart.”

With
a heavy sigh, I grabbed our bags and headed into the auditorium
behind Emily. “I can’t let him buy me lunch all the time—when’s it
going to stop?”

Emily giggled, walking ahead of me. “It’s not.”

Chapter
Six

Flipping through the pages of my diary, I ran my fingers over
each one that had David’s name written within the text. It’s only
been three days since I met the guy and I already need a new diary.
The last entry, before I started school, was dated over three
months ago. Now, I write so much and so fast that I’ve stopped
worrying about punctuation or legibility.

Dear
Diary,

Wednesday sucked. I hardly saw David at all—aside from when
he walked me to class—because at lunch and recess, Emily went all
‘dictator-control-freak’ and split us into groups. I don’t blame
her, though—the responsibility for the auditorium falls on her
shoulders, and no one was doing what they should be. It’s the
football jocks’ faults. They’re doing a comedy skit—since they have
no musical talent—and they had us all in stitches.

But
poor Emily was left doing everything for the benefit concert, and
the only people who took her seriously were Spencer and
Alana.

So,
consequently, David and I got separated to do ticket signs and set
building. But his eyes stayed on me the whole time.

Separating us all into groups didn’t work for long, anyway.
After only ten minutes, everyone broke into a pencil throwing
fight, and Emily stormed off in a huff, with Alana and I on her
trail.

I
hope today is…

“
Ara?” Vicki opened my door.

I
swept my arm over my page and turned around to face her.
“Yeah?”

“
It’s eight-thirty. You’re late for school.”

“
Oh.” I looked at my bedside clock. “Crud.”

“
David! You waited?”

“
Of
course I did.” He laughed and watched me cross the road, still
pulling my shoes on my feet. “Get stuck in the shower for too long,
did we?”

“
No,
I uh—” I placed my bag in his outstretched hand and panted out my
panic. “My diary was begging me to write in it—I was compelled to
obey.”

“
Oh,
compelled, huh?” David nodded, smiling.

“
Yeah, you know how it goes with these things,” I joked. “If
you don’t do as the voices tell you, they just get
louder.”

David stopped walking. “You hear voices?”

“
What?” I frowned. “No. It was a joke…”

“
A
joke?”

“
Yeah…you do know what a joke is, don’t you?”

“
Of
course I do—just—”

“
Just when it comes from me it isn’t funny.” I
nodded.

“
Not
about hearing voices.”

“
Why?” He can’t possibly think I’m crazy, too—unless he’s been
talking to my dad.

“
Because you faze out all the time. If you’re hearing voices
as well, it might mean you have something wrong.”

“
Oh.” I dragged the word out, nodding my head, then shrugged.
“Makes sense, I suppose.”

“
Did
you eat breakfast?” he asked accusingly.

“
Yes, Dad,” I responded in the same tone.

David just laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, it’s just
that I’ve noticed you get a little…
tempestuous
when you haven’t eaten
enough.”

“
Tempestuous?”

He
nodded.

Hm.
“It isn’t my fault, you know. I have an ogre living in my belly. He
makes me do the bad things.”

“
So…you faze out, hear voices, and blame your tempered
out-bursts on a fictional creature living in…” he looked down at my
stomach, “your belly.”

“
Precisely. The boy catches on quick.”

“
Well,” he shook his head, “one thing I can say about you,
Miss Ara, is that never a moment goes by where I am not
entertained.”

“
Is
that…a good thing?”

He
chucked once. “Oui. It’s a good thing.”

Emily leaned forward on her desk, eagerly engaged in Dad’s
lecture on religious history. I hope she’s getting an A for all the
extra listening she’s doing. Then again, her interest isn’t
companionless—most of the class seems to be paying attention,
today.

My
listening skills need some work, however. Then again, get David out
of my head for five minutes and I might be able to function
properly.

“
Now, who here believes in God?” Dad asked, holding his hand
in the air. Stunned silence replied while he smiled at the gawking
teens. “It’s not a trick question, people. Hands up if you believe
there exists something bigger than yourself.”

Come
on, Dad—as if anyone’s going to risk popularity to answer
that
question. Emily’s
hand shot up into the sky. “Oh, my God. You suck-up.” I elbowed
her, but raised my hand, too—to save getting in trouble from Dad,
later. A few other people raised their hands, but mostly, the class
just laughed and pointed at us.

“
Okay. Now, hands up who believes Jesus walked on water.”
Dad’s brows arched over his grin.

Everyone in the class started laughing. My dad, with his hand
up, nodded, then started writing on the board: “Myths and
legends—Religious History.” He read the words out, pointing to each
one as he said it, then popped the lid on his marker with a thud
from his open palm. “Who can tell me what that suggests we might be
discussing?”

Emily put her hand up.

“
Yes, Emily?” Dad pointed the marker at her.

“
It
means, like you mentioned last week, that nearly everything we know
about religion is based purely on some story, or like, ‘Chinese
whisper’ that’s been passed down from one generation to the next.
No cold, hard facts.” Emily tucked her hands into her chest and
leaned over the desk again, smiling triumphantly.

“
Right?” Dad wrote
What is real?
on the board, and
tapped the writing. “Now, I’m not saying Jesus never
actually
walked on
water, but what I am saying is that, like young Emily just said,
nearly every story you’ve ever been told has been written by
someone else. We don’t know the facts for ourselves—but there is a
fact behind every story. Now, it’s my job to inspire freethinking,
not encourage atheism—so, having said that—” He wrote something
else on the whiteboard.

Assignment.

“—
For the next few weeks you’ll be
researching the origin of a myth or a legend,” he shook his head,
“doesn’t have to be religious, but if you sift through any myth and
go deep enough, you’ll usually find some religious connection, like
most things in life. So, find a myth, research the legends around
it and make a report based on
your
opinion whether or not it could have some truth
behind it, and what it originally had to do with religious
beliefs.” He looked around at all the students. “Because, let’s
face it, if Jesus walked on water then there’s a damn sure bet
there’s a Santa Clause, right?”

The
class broke into laughter.

“
So?
Mr. Thompson?” a girl up the back of the class asked. “Does that
mean you’re admitting Jesus didn’t walk on water?”

“
No.” My dad leaned his butt against his desk and crossed his
arms over his chest. “It means I’m admitting there’s a Santa
Clause.”

The
class roared with laughter again.

“
Maybe he wasn’t lying when I was a little girl and he said he
believed in Santa,” I whispered to Emily.

She
started laughing. “I can
so
picture your dad saying that, too.”

“
I’ll bet you can.” I grimaced.

“
So, find the myth and decide the truth from
your
own
perspective. That’s all everybody. Have a good day,” he
called out over the bell.

As
we walked out of class, the rest of the students talked animatedly
about Dad’s unusual lecture. “I can imagine him trying to explain
to Sam why he doesn’t have any presents,” Emily joked, “Gee, Sam,”
she lowered her voice to sound like my dad, “I’m terribly sorry,
but when Santa came last night he
filled
his sack with your presents
instead, and…er…and the china and the silverware and the
jewellery.”

I
folded over in a fit of teary giggles. “Oh, my God, Emily. That’s
so spot on. I mean, his belief was unyielding…” With an abrupt
jolt, my cheek hit a warm, firm chest, and a boy stumbled back an
inch, catching me in his arms.

“
Ara?”

“
David.” I touched my hand to my collarbone. “I’m so sorry. I
wasn’t watching where I…” My words petered out as I rolled my face
upward to see his sparkling green gaze. Holy crap! I’m in his arms,
finally.

David looked down at me and smiled, keeping his strong grip
around my shoulder. “I knew you’d fall for me
eventually.”

If
only he knew.

My
dad popped his head out of the class and looked at us. “Not on
school grounds please, you two.” Then, he screwed up the piece of
paper he was holding and tossed it over his shoulder into the bin
beside his desk—without taking his eyes off us.

Emily’s eyelids fluttered. “He’s so cool.”

“
Ew?” I winced.

David laughed at her.

Reluctantly, I stepped away from the warmth of David’s chest
and smiled. His arm lingered closely for a second before he dropped
it to his side. I wish I could tell him I want him to pull me back
in and hold me—to wrap his arms around me, steal me from this
place—lie with me for hours so we can talk about
nothing.

I
like the thought of being alone with him. I want to kiss his
perfect dark-pink lips, so badly, and run my fingertip over the
sharp, crescent-moon dimple in his cheek. If we were alone, the
moment that I fell into his arms would’ve happened in slow motion,
except he would’ve swept me off my feet and pressed his lips to
mine before propping me against the wall and running his
hands…

“
Earth to Ara?” Emily’s voice broke through my fantasy and
David looked away from me as I snapped back to the reality of a
noisy corridor. “Welcome back,” she joked.

A
wash of cold blood rushed through me at the sight of David’s
horror-widened gaze. The muscles in my cheeks dropped and one quick
breath expanded my lungs. If he didn’t know I liked him before, he
definitely knows it now. I can feel the expression of secret,
lustful thoughts still etched onto my lips, and I know my eyes have
this funny way of shining—no,
radiating
—every emotion I have
inside, like a translucent diary.