Tears of the Broken (31 page)

God,
he’s sweet. “Then, where would it hurt if I damage your heart?” I
asked in a light, joking tone.

David’s eyes darkened and the smile faded from his lips. “The
soul.”

Oh,
boy. I can’t compete with that kind of response. “Um—” I cleared my
throat and looked away from his eyes. “So, what’re we doing for the
rest of the day?”

“
I
could show you a way to walk out to that island, if you
like.”

“
I’d
like that. But won’t we get wet?”

David looked down at the tops of my thighs, just covered by
the rim of my green dress, and smiled. “
You
won’t.”

“
Well, we don’t have to do it today. We can come back another
time.” I rolled onto my knees and sat with my face right in front
of David’s. We both took a long, shaky breath, and my lips tingled
with the idea that, this close to him, it would be so easy for us
to kiss. God, I want to, so badly. My heart pumped limb-numbing
blood through my veins, and the irrepressible desire for him to
touch his lips to mine—to close the tiny breath of gap that’s
keeping us from our first kiss—forced my eyes to close.

His
breath tickled over my lips with the sugary sweetness of honey, and
my own breath, warm and moist, blew back against my chin after
touching his. Slowly, I edged forward, taking shallow breaths as
each heart-stopping inch drew me closer.

“
Ara.” David froze, and his wide eyes and stiff shoulders made
the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise as I looked behind me,
following the aim of his stare.

“
What is it?” Is there a spider or some other horrible,
blood-sucking creature behind me?

David exhaled a quick breath and pushed off the rock behind
him, breaking the energy between us as he stood. “It’s getting
late.”

Huh?
Late…but…? I looked at the sky; he’s right, it has gotten late, and
quite a bit cooler than I realised.

The
breath I’d been holding made a huge lump in my throat as I
swallowed it, then exhaled loudly. What just happened? He was…I
mean, I thought we were going to…

“
You
know, you’re right.” He stopped about ten paces away from me and
swept his hands through his hair. “We can go out to the island
another day. We better get going, though. I think I remember
something about a History assignment due,” his voice rose in
question.

History assignment! But…what about the kiss?

David squatted over the picnic basket and packed away
sandwich wrappers and cups while I flopped onto my back with a
huff. Why did he just spring up like that? Did my breath smell? I
rolled my head toward my shoulder and discreetly blew into my skin.
Nope. Smells like grapes. Not a
bad
smell.

God,
my heart is still thumping in my chest. That moment was so magical,
with our bodies so close to touching, the softness of his dark-pink
lips practically against mine, and the heat in the small space
between us like a burning that can only be felt in the middle of a
summer’s day. I felt it, I’m sure he felt it, too. But why wouldn’t
he want to kiss me? If that’s the reason he jumped up so suddenly.
Then again, maybe I was just lost in my own little world, and David
had never reached the conclusion of a kiss.

Worst part is, from what I know about this boy already, if he
was avoiding a kiss, he’ll have some grand excuse. Only, all he’ll
say is, “I will tell you, but not today.”

I
sighed and stood up, then folded the picnic rug once David lifted
the basket off it. “Here, you wanna stash this back in your rock
crevice?”

He
stepped away from me and shook his head. “This is your secret place
now, too, Ara. I’ll
show
you where to hide it.”

I
hugged the blanket back into my arms and smiled. “You mean
our
secret
place.”

Chapter
Eleven

Everything has been set out properly; my pencils neatly lined
up at the top of the desk, my laptop centred in front of me, a
notepad for ideas, and even a glass of water to keep me hydrated,
but after sitting here surfing the Net for two hours, the only
thing I’ve accomplished is a list of reasons David might not want
to kiss me.

Let’s see, top of the list: he suddenly realised he doesn’t
like me. I mean, the possibility of a kiss can reveal many things.
Maybe he never realised until then.

Second on the list: he doesn’t know how to kiss. Which I find
really hard to believe since, rumour tells me, he’s had no troubles
with that in the past—despite what he says about dating. But then,
they are just rumours.

My
third and fourth conclusions involve something to do with zombies
and Parmesan cheese. I’m so not gonna get into those right
now.

With
a huff, I slumped against the backrest of my chair and tapped my
pencil on the desk. Outside, it grew dark over the hills to the
east and the summer sun settled red on the cloudless sky, turning
the tops of the maple trees golden pink.

My
computer glared at me when I looked away from the
sunset.

“
I
know, I know. Homework awaits,” I muttered, rolling my chair back
to sit in front of the laptop.

Really, this project on myths is stupid. I have no idea what
to write my paper on and I can’t really ask my dad, because that
would give me an unfair advantage on the other kids.

Maybe homework would be easier if I could stop thinking about
David. But I just don’t get it. I’m not complex or needy….okay, so
maybe I’m a little needy—but all I really need or want is to do
normal things with him like, you know, holding hands or going to a
movie or snuggling up on the couch—kissing when my parents can’t
see. But he won’t, and I can’t figure out why.

Who
knows, maybe he doesn’t think our relationship is on that level
yet. I mean, he’s pretty distant with the touching thing. Maybe
he’s one of those guys who doesn’t kiss or anything until we’ve
been ‘going steady’ for a month—or maybe he’s just using me to keep
the other girls off him for a while. I wouldn’t blame him if he
did, but he could at least tell me.

I
flicked out my desk lamp and crawled into bed, still fully dressed
and with an empty stomach. When Vicki comes to call me for dinner,
I think I’ll pretend to be asleep. All this worrying and confusion
and thinking is making me tired. Ever since I met David, I feel
like I don’t know anything anymore.

Maybe if I can fall asleep I won’t have to think about
him.

I
puffed the pillows with fists of frustration, then slammed down on
my back; the feathers swelled up around my cheeks, and a faint
scent of fruit surrounded me.

That
was the hardest thing about moving—how different things smell—like
the sheets or the towels, and my shirts as I pulled them over my
head. Vicki’s washing has a vibrant peachy smell, whereas my mum’s
was a milky, powdery scent—a bit like Mike, since our mums always
bought the same washing powder.

But
peach is kind of comforting to me, now—it means I’m in bed, away
from the world, away from my troubles.

However, I can’t escape my thoughts, no matter where I am. I
mean, what is it with this David guy, anyway? Why couldn’t he have
just taken me to the lake and kissed me—like a normal guy? Why does
he have to be so puzzling?

Despite the sticky heat sneaking in through my window and
gluing itself to my brow and neck, I lifted my feather quilt and
slid my feet under it, rolling onto my side as I drew it up over my
shoulders.

The
room seemed so still, and a quiet charge—a sort of energy—filled
the air in around me, becoming trapped under the stagnant heat. The
crickets, which I hardly hear at all anymore, stopped humming and
even the oak tree resited the light breeze—keeping its leaves as
still as a doe being stalked by a wolf.

The
sun drifted over the house completely, and I watched the sky turn
black through the angled reflection of my dresser mirror. Beside my
bed, a picture of Mike stared back at me from where I’d tacked it
to the wall. I yanked it downward, pulling it off without chipping
the paint, and held it between my fingers.

Mike
always had such a bright, cheeky smile. I grew up looking at this
face, which is probably why a guy’s smile is the first thing I seem
to notice. I think, in a small way, I measure their smile up to my
best friend’s.

The
only place I get to see this smile now, though, is in my dreams or
in a picture taken long ago.

I
kissed the photo and pressed my thumb to it against the wall. I
don’t even have a photo of David to sit and fantasise over. I have
a few faded images in my mind and that’s it. But it’s better than
nothing, I suppose, and in my daydreams he does kiss me and tell me
how much he loves me. In last night’s adventures he even asked me
to marry him—and I said yes.

With
a self-satisfied smile, I closed my eyes and wandered away to my
happy place.

Across the darkness of my mind, David sat strumming my
guitar—his haunting song shadowing the background of my dream. I
smiled at him, and he smiled back, then looked away
again.

“
David, why does it sound different, today?”

“
The
meaning’s changed.” He didn’t look up from the strings.

“
Why?”

“
You
know why.”

“
No,
I don’t. Tell me.” My voice echoed as the world around us slipped
away and a dense blackness became our new surroundings. A cold
chill set my hairs on end. “David?”

He
looked up, but looked right past me—no—
through
me, with eyes wide as he
dropped his fingers from the strings.

Slowly, with my shoulders stiff and the tiny hairs on my neck
tingling, I turned around, and a hollow blackness opened out before
my eyes, leaving me standing on the edge of nothing, with a wild
wind sucking the breath from my lungs. “David.” I took a step back,
my heart thumping into my chest with the sudden urge to run. He
played on, looking down at the strings as he plucked the notes.
“David? Can you hear me?” I called loudly over the roaring
wind.

He
looked up—looked around, but looked past me again.

“
David!” I leaned forward, screaming his name. “David, why
won’t you answer me?”

“
He
doesn’t care what happens to you,” said a deep, jeering voice from
behind.

The
wind stopped. I spun back around and gazed into the empty space.
“Who are you?”

“
You
know who I am.”

“
What do you want?”

“
It’s not what
I
want that you should be worried
about, little girl—” the voice hissed, “It’s what
he
wants.”

“
Who? David?”

“
Yes.”

“
Well…” I looked over my shoulder to the boy sitting in the
warmth of the sun by the lake. “What does he want?”

“
He
wants you to kill.”

“
Kill?” My voice echoed back at me; I spun around a few times.
“Why would I kill?”

“
For
love.”

“
No.” I shook my head and wrapped my arms around my ribs.
“David would never ask that of me.”

The
strange voice responded with only a menacing laugh.

I
shook my head again and slowly backed away from the edge of the
darkness. “No. I would never kill. Not even for love.”

“
Then you will never…”

A
shrill screeching jolted my mind from fatigue. I sat bolt upright
with shaky breath and the pattering thud in my chest making me
dizzy, then jumped out of bed and grabbed my phone.
“Hello?”

“
Hey
kid, did I wake you?”

“
Mike? Um—I uh, no, I was just daydreaming. What’re you doing
up?” I looked at my clock. “Isn’t it like, before six in the
morning over there?”

“
Yeah, I was in bed, but, then I was just layin’ here,
thinkin’ ‘bout ya.” I could hear the grin behind his
tone.

“
Me?
Why?” I sat at my desk.

“
Well, my interview’s booked, now—for next Monday. Thought I
might as well start planning my trip.”

“
When do you think you’ll be coming?”

He
took a long, deep breath. “I was thinking I should fly out that
night?”

“
Really?” My voice rose with elation. “That’s fine with me.
I’d be happy if you came now.” I flipped open my computer, clicked
on my desktop calendar and then iTunes.

“
You
miss me that much, huh?” He sounded surprised.

“
Mike, I’ve never, ever had to live without you before. You’re
like my security blanket. I miss hanging out, you know—just
being—normal.” I sighed under a smile.

“
Great. I’m a blanky.” He laughed. “What about David? Is he
still in the picture?” His light tone concealed a
spearhead—something only I would notice.

“
Argh.” The hard breath of my frustration
made a static sound through the phone. “I just. Don’t. Know, Mike.
You know, he told me he
loves
me?” I whined, “But—”