Dark Secrets

by A. M. Hudson

  “Okay,” Emily said, stopping abruptly by a door on the right, her ponytail swinging behind her again. “This is the school office and your first stop on today’s tour.”

  “Awesome.” I nodded, fake-smiling again. “Can you just show me to the last stop?”

  She laughed and pushed the door open. “Sure. As soon as the last bell rings.”

  Inside the quiet, muggy room, a lady behind the desk, talking softly on a phone tucked into her chin, looked up and smiled, issuing a straight finger at us while she wrote something down. “Okay, Mrs Rossi, I’ll let them know. You just tell him to get some rest and we’ll see him back here next week. Okay, bye.” She hung up, stashed the note elsewhere, then looked at me; I shrunk, contemplating a quick dive to hide under the desk. “What can I do for you, Miss Pierce?”

  “New kid.” Emily leaned her forearms on the counter. “Need her schedule.”

  “Name?” She put her glasses on and fingered through a pile of manila folders.

  “Um, Ara-Rose,” I said, stepping closer.

  She stopped searching. “Amara-Rose?”

  Emily’s eyes fell on me.

  “Um, yes.”

  “Right.” The lady woke up then and, in a jittery fashion, fumbled about her papers. “I’ll just find your file here among all this mess, and—” her voice trailed off. “Haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Been so busy with all this stuff here. Ah, here we go.” She put her glasses on. “Yes, this is you.”

  I stared at the folder, wondering when I had become an A-Four piece of stationery.

  “Well, um, here’s your class schedule—” She handed me a piece of paper. “And you can just go ahead and take one of those there maps ya see.”

  Emily handed me a pamphlet from the desktop. I ran my fingers over it, biting my lip to hide a hint of a grin. This little piece of paper was my new best friend.

  “Now, Emily, can you show Amara-Rose to her first class?”

  “Happy to.” Emily grabbed my hand and dragged me from the room, but even as the door closed, the eyes of Reception Lady lingered along my nerves. “I bet you have English first period.” She snatched my schedule, then grinned widely. “You do. I hate you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” I took the paper back and frowned at it.

  “It’s just....” She started walking; I followed. “You have David Knight in your class.”

  I scratched my head, choosing to ignore her complete lack of composure. “School heartthrob?”

  “You guessed it. I mean, he’s a bit of a jerk, really—to most girls, but he’s just so damn cute no one cares.”

  My lip curled. I bit it. This girl had issues. “I don’t like jerks, really.”

  “Mm-mm.” She shook her head. “He won’t be a jerk to you. You haven't done anything to annoy him yet.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Yeah, and he totally goes for that lost lamb thing you’ve got going.” She motioned to me—all of me.

  “Um, yeah, well, my biggest concern for senior year is not what some jerk-face cute guy thinks of me.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen him yet.”

  I rolled my eyes. As if I’d ever be that pathetic.

  “Yep.” She considered me again for a second. “He is just going to snatch you up.”

  “Should I be worried?” I wasn't partial to being snatched.

  “No way. They’d deny it, but any girl in the school would give their right arm to be snatched by David.”

  Or maybe just you would.

  “Okay.” She stopped again. I wanted to keep walking—right past the glass doors, out to the front parking lot and into the closet under the stairs back at Dad’s house. “Here’s Room One; you’re late, but people will only whisper about you for the first ten or so minutes.”

  “Great.” I faked another smile.

  “That’s the spirit.” She curled a fist in front of the door and said, “Take a deep breath.”

  I tried, but the deep gasp of air just formed another lump in my throat, making me dizzy as I held it in.

  “Okay, you can let it out.” She laughed. “You ready?”

  My head moved; I think I nodded. Then, Emily rapped lightly on the door, sending my nerves into a frenzy. Don’t get me wrong, I could handle nerves, and butterflies in my stomach were just yesterday’s breakfast, but these felt more like bats. Big black, hairy bats.

  The door clinked and popped open a little, revealing a shiny head with a light tuft of hair around the ears. “Emily? What can I do for you?”

  “This is Ara. She’s new.” Emily presented me.

  “Ah, yes. Of course.” He turned to look at my face; his eyes warm, his grey-brown moustache curving atop his grin. “Ara, is it, not Amara-Rose?”

  I shook my head—maybe I should’ve nodded. Who knows?

  “Well, Ara, I hope you’re a much quieter student than this lot.” He jerked his thumb to the noisy class; I tried to look past him to get a handle on the room, so as not to trip on anyone when I walked in, but he was in the way.

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Mr Benson. She’s hardly said two words.”

  The teacher looked back at me, straightening up a little, making my heart race as if I’d just run a block, which seemed like a viable option, just...in the other direction. “Are you nervous, Ara?”

  I nodded slowly. “I’ve never been to a new school before.”

  “Well, I tell you what…” He touched his chin, then turned and signalled into the class. “I think I have a solution.”

  “Yes, Mr B.” A boy stepped up before I expected him to, and a short gasp escaped my lips, making my heart skip a beat that it would never recover. I wanted to grab Emily, who stifled a giggle beside me, and shake her for being right about a boy so cute you’d picture yourself in his arms without even knowing his name. I really hoped this wasn't Mr B’s idea of a ‘solution’ to my anxiety.

  As the boy settled into his lean on the doorframe, his casually-dishevelled dark-brown hair fell into his eyes; he swept it back, and any hope of composure withered away with the hold of that smile; how his dark-pink lips sat closed and turned up sharply in the corners, his gaze fixing mine in place. He seemed completely unfazed by my totally obvious ogling. I even felt myself rise onto my toes; my inner fantasies wandering off to a world where I shoved Mr Benson aside and stepped up to charm the hell out of this boy with my sassy disposition. But the true, witless me stood, mouth gaping, begging my skin not to drop my bones all over the floor.

  “Ara? This is David,” Mr Benson said, eyeing the proverbial drool on my lip.

  Time came rushing back like a smack across the face; I snapped my gob shut and wiped my chin, glad there wasn’t actually drool there. I already knew that boy was David; my reaction completely mirrored the stupidity I despised in Emily two minutes ago.

  David’s smile changed then, became wider, drawing me in to his world, almost inviting me to be his friend. But the dimples beside his lips made promises I knew they’d never keep. “Hello, Ara.” He nodded, almost like a bow.

  Breathe, Amara-Rose, just breathe. I lifted my hand a little to wave. No words came out, though. Pathetic.

  “Ara, David is my best student,” Mr Benson said, then looked at the boy. “David?”

  “Yes, sir?” The boy stole his gaze away, his head turning before his eyes left mine, and shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders lifting as if he was some kind of shy guy. No freakin’ way.

  “Ara’s a little worried about coming to a new class,” Mr Benson said. “Would you take her to the library and fill her in on last week’s lessons, please?”

  A sudden wash of relief brought my body back to life. I wanted to hug Mr Benson for being so considerate.

  “Of course.” David smiled at me again, the sound of his voice running through me, like milk for my soul—liquid with maturity, yet simultaneously weightless.

  “Excellent.” Mr Benson went to walk away but stopped. “And ke
ep your charms to yourself, young man.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir,” he said, looking right at me with those smiling green eyes.

  And my cheeks exploded with heat, sending it to my ears. I looked down at my feet, biting my spreading grin.

  “Okay. Well, Ara, you take care, and I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Mr Benson patted my shoulder.

  “Thank you,” I said, looking him directly in the eye this time.

  “You are more than welcome.” He turned to face the boy. “David, you can get your stuff.”

  For a split second, as David and Mr Benson walked away, I braved a glance into the room of dread—seeing only a desk and a whiteboard. Looked normal enough. I’d imagined fiery pits and wailing souls. Guess I was wrong.

  Emily squeaked, bouncing on her toes. I actually wanted to squeal, too. She was so right. He was so hot!

  “Oh my God. You’re so lucky.” She waved two handfuls of spirit-fingers.

  “Lucky? I have to spend forty minutes alone with that guy.” I pointed into the class.

  “Trust me, Ara. You’re going to love David.”

  That’s what I was worried about. “He’s not that cute,” I said, but the lie showed in my tone, shouting to the world that I was as pathetic as Emily.

  She rolled her head to one side. “It’s okay to like him, you know. We’re only human.”

  I swallowed my pride and said, “Does he have a girlfriend?”

  Emily leaned closer. “He—”

  “Sure thing, Mr Benson.” David’s smooth voice filled the hallway a second before he stepped out of the classroom, carrying his bag and a stack of books.

  Emily straightened up, poorly masking her conspicuous smile.

  “Everything all right, Emily?” he asked.

  “Mm-hm.”

  He looked at me then and studied my face with slightly narrowed eyes—as if maybe he was trying to figure me out. I wished him luck. “You ready, new girl?”

  I managed to nod. Somehow, staying with Mr Benson seemed more appealing. I was going to make a fool of myself in front of this boy, I just knew it.

  “Don’t worry.” Emily touched my arm. “David will take good care of you.”

  “You’re late for class, Emily,” he said in a dull tone, looking at his watch.

  “Okay, well. Have fun, Ara, and…I’ll see you at lunch?” she asked, her eyes round, hopeful.

  Terrific, I’d just made a new friend without even trying. Great. Not. “Thanks, Emily, and yeah, sure, I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

  She skipped off, beaming, but as she reached the corner, stopped to fan her chin, mouthing what looked like “He’s so hot,” right as David turned to catch her.

  I allowed a small smile, watching her quickly press her hands behind her back as she disappeared around the corner, leaving David and I completely alone.

  My heart pumped blood the wrong way around my body, and the beat bounced off every wall in the school—a suspenseful soundtrack to a gripping scene. I forced myself to look up from my shoes, and though I sat for hours last night scripting topics for just this sort of occasion, when I met David’s gaze, it was all gone—escaped me completely. All I could find was a white cloud of wordless stupor. I was without ammunition, alone in the wilderness, with a lion.

  “Come, I’ll show you to the library.” He started walking. I stayed put, safe and snug against the wall, where I couldn't trip on my own nerves. He didn't even notice I stayed behind, just walked ahead without me. Or maybe he did notice but chose to ignore it, figuring I’d eventually move. But staying behind gave me a great vantage point for hotness-evaluation; I could see the definition in his back through that black shirt—could see the marvellous contours of his arms and how his torso seemed to taper inward at the waist, like an upside-down triangle, despite his otherwise very slim form. I’d seen that kind of physique, but a little bigger, only on guys in the football teams back home. Which made me wonder if David was a football jock. If he so, he disguised that stereotypical arrogance really well under the impression of a kind, well-mannered boy.

  “Hey, are you coming?” he said, walking backward to face me.

  “Um, yeah. Sorry.” I pushed away from the wall and started after him, giggling to myself when he turned away. I always knew the world was unnaturally cruel and today I learned it could also be cruel in an unbelievably giving way.

  David strolled along silently beside me, focusing on the path ahead. I didn't know if I should—or could—say something to break the silence, which made it turn suddenly into the uncomfortable sort. Yet, he didn't seem uncomfortable, and his self-satisfied grin made me feel almost like he could hear every deranged, lustful thought I was having.

  I rocked my jaw, searching deep inside for that level-headed girl in me who didn’t get pummelled by a cute face. She was dead, though. David killed her.

  “What were you focusing on in your last school—for English studies?” he asked in that buttery voice, like, if I could swallow it in one gulp, it wouldn’t even touch the sides of my throat.

  “The standard stuff,” I murmured. “I wasn’t in any advanced classes or anything.”

  He nodded. “Do you read much?”

  “Not anymore.”

  He looked down at his feet.

  I felt bad for that answer; it was probably a little vague—maybe even rude. I just…I wanted him to keep talking, but…not ask any questions.

  “Why not?” he asked, with a sassy grin.

  “Why not what?”

  He cleared his throat, the corner of his lip creeping up to his dimple. “Why don't you read anymore?”

  “Um, no reason. What do you like to read?”

  He laughed to himself. “Dracula, Jamaica Inn, Pride and Prejudice. I actually read quite a bit. Though, not so much anymore, myself.”

  “Why not?” I asked, curious about his reasons. Also curious as to why a seventeen-year-old boy would admit to reading Pride and Prejudice of his own free will.

  “Well, let’s just say—” he grinned as he leaned against the wall near another brown door, “—I have better things to do with my time at the moment.”

  “Er, yeah me too,” I added.

  He laughed and stood up from the wall, patting the door. “So, this is the library.”

  “Really?” It sat inconspicuously in the long wall of the first floor corridor, rather oddly-placed for such an important room. If David wasn’t with me, I might’ve passed it completely.

  “Don’t let looks deceive you. It’s actually quite well-stocked,” he said, opening the door.

  We stepped inside and shelves of books, practically touching the ceiling, greeted us with the rich smell of old pages. A group of study desks marked the centre of the brightly lit space, and computers lined the wall on one side. It seemed the school made up in supplies for what it lacked in style.

  “They fit a lot into a small room, don't they?”

  “Yes,” my unfairly gorgeous tour guide said simply, standing motionless beside me. “Would you like a seat?”

  I wanted to ask if he meant I could take one home with me, to keep, but was afraid the corniness might show me up for the dweeb I really was. So, I started off with a determined stride and, using my ankle, kicked a chair out at the circle of study desks. The lone student beside me didn’t bother to look up as I dumped my bag down, unzipped it and stuffed my schedule inside. But then, he most likely didn’t hear me approach since the music coming from his earphones could be heard in London.

  “Are we allowed iPods in here?” I asked, looking up to meet David's stare.

  He made no effort to look away, smiling before saying, “Yes.”

  And my pulse quickened. He just looked so pleased with himself for something, like a schoolboy who just got a new video game. “We weren’t allowed iPods at my old school.” I looked back at the kid for a second. “Private school.”

  “Figured as much.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “No. I ju
st have a knack for categorisation.” He cocked his head a little.

  “Hm, me too.”

  “Then we should get along great.” He dropped the grin and moved into all-business mode, placing a heavy rectangle book on the table in front of me, tapping it twice. “This one’s for you.”

  “Yay,” I said in my most sarcastic tone ever. The pages were thin and the cover was hard, which could only mean boring.

  “You know,” David said, sitting down, “you’re awfully quiet. I expected you to say more by now.”

  “We’re in a library,” I whispered.

  He laughed and looked around. “We don’t have teachers in here. No one cares if you talk.”

  I sat taller and slowly turned my head. He was right. I didn’t even notice. There was no desk and no old, grey-haired woman with large-rimmed glasses shushing us when we breathed. “Cool.”

  “Yeah.” He sat back, leaning his elbow on the desk, a pen coming up to the corner of his mouth. “It’s pretty cool.”

  I looked away from him, finally calming myself enough to act human, and opened the giant book. “What page?”

  “You know—” he inclined toward me, his voice becoming a husky whisper, “—it’s your first day, so we can either fill you in on Mr Benson’s class, or—” He paused, looking at the student near us.

  I rested my cheek on the back of my hand. “I already prefer the or.” And as soon as that creepy sentence slipped past my lips to ruin my life, I dropped my hand, my head begging to follow.

  But, instead of throwing a spitball at me before quickly fleeing the room, David just leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head. “You know, I think I’m beginning to like you already, Ara-Rose.”

  Which was great, except, I was already in love with him. “It’s just Ara, by the way,” I said.

  He sat straight and looked at me with one slightly squinted eye, then folded his arms. “Okay, Ara. What’s your next class?”