by A. M. Hudson
“What are you smiling at?” I asked.
“I hope you like scary movies.”
An eerie feeling swept over me as my gaze followed his to the front door at the base of the stairs. “Why?”
“Come in, Emily,” Sam said as he passed.
“Hello,” Emily chimed in her high but elegant voice, opening the door.
“Hey, Em.” I stood up.
“Hey,” she said, then turned and waved to someone outside. “Bye, David.”
David? Not surprisingly, when I looked back, my eyes fell upon the plain colours of the corridor walls and the rosewood floorboards below the rug David had been kneeling on. “Right on time, Em.” I looked at the clock on the wall as I reached the base of the stairs.
“Yep, and I hope you like scary movies.” She held up a USB stick. “It’s based in Australia—some place called Wolf Creek?”
I shivered. That’s what David meant. “Uh, wow. That’ll be great,” I lied, not really sure why I did that.
I could almost hear David laughing down the street. Well, I hoped he enjoyed his little joke, because he’d be paying for it when I called him at two in the morning, scared, unable to sleep because the bad man might get me—instead of calling Mike, like always.
My arms folded in smug gratification. Well, there you go, that was one thing I’d let him pay for.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t know.” Emily grinned at Dad as he stood up. “I think Sam has a point.”
“See, old man,” Sam said. “If a senior agrees with me, I must be right.”
Dad, with a humoured grunt, stacked a pile of plates in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Well, I happen to know that this particular senior is an A grade student because she doesn’t play video games.” He motioned a hand to Emily, who sat taller—bristling with pride.
“Dad.” Sam smirked. “Emily’s only an A grade student because she has a cru—”
“Good work ethic,” I cut in, sure Sam was about to say “crush on her teacher.”
Sam bit his lip, offering Emily an apologetic look; she just shook her head, picking the pineapple off her pizza.
“If only a good work ethic was addictive—like those video games you play, Samuel.” Dad sat back down at the table. “The fact is, my boy, you have an example to set for the other students, being that you’re a—”
“Teacher’s kid. I know, I know.” Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ve all heard the speech, Dad. But, you can’t debate my argument with any profitable reasoning. I learned more about physics by playing Halo than I did from Mr Ester.”
Dad let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s okay, Mr Thompson,” Emily said in an encouraging tone. “Alana and I still believe in the importance of homework, isn’t that right, Lani?”
Alana looked up from her plate and nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I folded my arms. “I’m with Sam on this one. Burnout taught me the logistics of driving a car.”
Dad jostled with a little chuckle. “Exactly.”
“Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean—” he sat back, folding his arms, “—that there’s a reason you don’t have your licence yet.”
“You don’t have your licence?” Emily practically spat the words out.
“Um…no.” I sank into myself.
“Why?”
“I uh, I’m not very good at driving,” I lied. Truthfully, I just didn’t see the need to be behind the wheel.
“Maybe Alana and I could teach you,” Em offered.
“I think we’ll leave the driving lessons to the experts,” Dad chimed in.
“But, if your methods aren’t working, Mr Thompson, maybe she could learn from those of us closer to her age,” Emily said.
Sam stifled a giggle; Dad raised a brow at him. “When did I become the old guy?”
“Uh, about forty years ago, Dad.” I laughed.
“Hm. Should’ve seen it coming. So—” he said with a change in tone, “what are you girls up to tonight?”
“Scary movie,” Emily said.
“Yay.” I waved an invisible flag, with mock enthusiasm.
“Yeah? Which one?” Sam sat up, suddenly more eager to be a part of the conversation again.
“No way, pest. Girl’s night,” I said.
“Aw. No fair.”
“Life’s not fair, son. Get used to it,” Dad said distractedly—the common disease of resorting to philosophical one-liners taking the intelligence out of any point he may have been trying to make.
“Well, Sam, if you want to paint your nails and look at pictures of Ara’s hunky BFF, then you can have a girl’s night with us,” Emily said.
“Yeah, I’ll pass.” He slumped back in his chair.
“All right, well—” Dad stood up and took the last of the plates, “—Sam and I will get the dishes, and you girls can go talk about boys.”
Awkward. “Yeah, um, that’s our cue to go.” I stood and motioned the girls to follow.
Three pairs of feet dangled off one side of the bed, three heads off the other, while the sun slipped behind the house, bringing darkness down the walls, and the dancing rainbows around my room faded, but Emily and Alana’s stories distracted me from the dying colours in my life, reminding me of a time when I once thought the world was normal.
“So, whose idea was it to hang the crystals over the window?” Alana asked. “It was so magic in here with all those rainbows.”
“Oh, um, Pollyanna.”
“Pollyanna?” She rolled onto her belly.
“Yeah. It’s from an old movie my mom used to love.”
“Hm. Never seen it.” Alana looked at Emily, who shrugged, shaking her head.
“So, Ara, are you gonna show us these pics of Mike, or what?”
“Sure, Em, but, you’re with Spence now, do you really need to be checking out other guys?”
“Who says I’m checking him out?” She sat up beside Alana. “I’m just curious as to why your eyes light up when you mention him.”
“They so do not light up,” I demanded.
“Um, actually, Ara, they kind of do,” Alana said carefully.
“Yeah, you sparkle.” Emily waved her fingers around. “So—” she shuffled to the edge of the bed, “—let’s see them.”
“Fine.” I rolled up with a huff and wandered over to my desk. “I don’t have many, though. I only grabbed one box when I moved—and it was the wrong one.”
“Which box did you mean to grab?” Em asked.
“Just some old family ones.” I shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I’d switched the boxes about a week before and just didn’t realise until I was already here.”
“Why not ask your mom to send them over for you?” Alana said.
“Yeah. Guess I could.” I bumped the drawer closed with my hip and plonked down on the ground with the box in front of me. Alana sat beside me, waiting anxiously while I fingered the lid, trying not to peel back the carefully placed rainbow and kitten stickers Mike randomly stuck on there when he was bored one day.
“Oh, my God!” Alana reached past my wrist and grabbed the first picture the light touched, then jumped up and handed it to Emily, who smiled instantly.
“Oh. He is cute.”
“You think?” My lip curled.
Emily laid back on my pillow, her silky blonde hair spilling out around her like liquid. “Hell yeah. He’s kinda rustic, isn’t he?”
Alana, with another picture in hand, nodded. “Is he a surfer?” She flipped the image around for me to see; Mike, in his board shorts, on the beach—golden and tanned, with yellow hair falling scruffily over his eyes.
“Yeah, I suppose.” I shrugged. “He does surf.”
“I can’t believe how cute he is.”
“Yeah, he sorta is…in a way.” I pretended to cringe.
“In a way? Ara, he’s actually really cute,” Alana said. “Even by my standards.”
�
��And you two never uh—” Emily let the suggestion in her tone lead that question.
I shook my head. “It’s really not like that.”
“Never?” She grinned, and the pathetic liar in me showed herself on my face. “Oh, my God. You so had a fling!”
“We didn’t.”
“You did,” Emily insisted.
“Did not.”
Alana studied my smirk. “Ara, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Drat.” My shoulders sunk. “Okay, maybe I did, kind of, throw myself at him. Once.”
“Really?” Emily sat up and crossed her legs under her. “Well? Come on, girl, fill us in!”
My head dropped to one side with a groan. “Okay. Um, so, it was my friend’s eighteenth…”
“Ooh, wait, wait, wait.” Em waved her hands about, coming to sit down in our little circle around my box of Mike. “Okay. Go.”
“Um.” I laughed at her, half frowning. “So…I had a drink at her party. Well, okay, maybe three.” I laughed. “Or more.”
The girls gasped, wide-eyed.
“What?” I shrugged.
“You rebel,” Alana breathed the words out.
“I know, I know. It’s not one of my proudest moments. But, the legal age for drinking in Australia is eighteen,” I added. “So, I’m not that far off—not like here.”
“Huh! So lucky,” Emily scoffed.
“So, anyway. I walked to Mike’s house to stay the night so my mom wouldn’t find out—”
“Did his mom know you were drunk?” Emily sat forward.
“Let me finish.” I held a hand up; Alana laughed. “It was actually Mike who picked up on it, like, before I even got in the door.”
Emily and Alana exchanged glances. “How did he know you’d been drinking?” Alana asked.
“He’s been a cop since he was eighteen,” I said. “He knows the signs, and he knows me—and I don’t act like that.”
“Wait. I thought he was just getting into the Force,” Alana asked.
My head moved in a ‘no’ as I popped a candy in my mouth. “He’s just getting in to the Tactical Response Group. That’s where he really wanted to be. But he’s been a beat cop for forever.”
“So...” Emily led, “what happened then?”
“Um, well, so, he took me upstairs to his room and sat me down for a severe talking to. But, I just thought he was hilarious. I couldn’t stop laughing at him.”
“How did he take that?”
“He was trying not to laugh, too, but…then I kind of went and threw my arms around him and kissed him—told him I’d always loved him.”
“Huh! I would’ve, too,” Emily said.
“Did he kiss you back?” Alana asked, completely arrested by my tale.
“Yeah—” I lowered my head, “—for a moment. But then he stopped—pushed me away.”
“Ouch.” Emily winced.
“That must have hurt?” Alana’s voice softened.
“Not really. I mean, I felt rejected and all, but it was…he yelled at me. He had never yelled at me before—for anything.” I laughed it off, but I’d pushed that memory so far down that remembering it came as a shock. I’d almost convinced myself the kiss never happened.
“Why’d he yell at you?” Alana asked.
“Was it because you kissed him?”
“It was because…he said he was just really disappointed in me—for drinking. He was worried, I guess.”
“That sucks. So he didn’t like you the way you liked him?” Emily asked.
“No.” I shrugged casually. “But it was a mistake. I don’t really feel that way about him. It was just the alcohol.”
“Or did you just tell him it was liquor-lust to save face?” Emily smirked.
“I didn’t tell him anything.” I shook my head. “I kind of ran home after that—never talked about it again.”
“Oh. So...how will things be when you see him on Tuesday, then?” I could see the word awkward appear in bold all over Emily’s face.
“It’ll be fine.” I hoped. “So, have you guys got a dress for the Masquerade yet?”
Alana, detecting my need to divert, knelt up and placed the picture she was holding into the box. “I’m wearing the same dress my mother wore, and her mother, and so on.”
“Wow, that’s so cool.” I started gathering the pictures into a pile.
“Mm-hm. It was actually first worn by my great-great-grandmother at the very first town Masquerade.”
“That is totally cool.” Emily handed me a stack of pictures. “I haven’t found one yet. I’m still looking. Just…nothing seems to suit me.”
“I find that really hard to believe, Em.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, what about you, Ara? Have you got a dress yet?” Alana asked.
I grinned, placing the lid on the box. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Ooh, you do.” Emily squeaked. “Let’s see it, let’s see it!”
“Okay.” I bounced to my feet. “I’ll just be a sec.”
They both positioned themselves on my bed, anticipation alight in their eyes, and I bounded into my wardrobe, stopping dead as I closed the door behind me and saw a giant white bag hanging on the hook.
My breath quickened, my throat constricting to the size of a straw when I slowly tugged the zipper down the length of the bag and saw blue. “Damn vampires!”
“What?” Emily called.
“Oh, ah, nothing. Just got bitten by a mozzie.” I sucked my finger, drawing away the mock-irritation of a mosquito bite.
Alana and Emily laughed. “You sound so Aussie when you say that.”
“Well, I am Aussie.”
“Yeah, I know,” Emily called, “you just never sound it.”
“Well, they say practice makes perfect.” I looked back at the blue dress inside the bag, wondering where those conspiring renegades had stuffed my pretty green dress. And when my eyes brushed past my old purple sweater and faded blue jeans, I saw it there—shoved away like some ratty old coat. “Hu!” I scoffed, reaching for it.
So, David wanted to play dirty?
Well, there was no way I’d wear his superficial affection, in any form.
I hung my green dress on the other hook, then zipped up the white bag and wedged it into a tight space near the wall, dusting my hands off after. “There.”
But, before I even stepped away, the sudden weight of guilt nearly forced my shoulders to the ground.
Would it be so bad—wearing the dress? my inner princess reasoned. I mean, what could it hurt? After all, David’s already paid for it.
The dress and I stared at each other across the silent battleground of conscience.
It was a pretty dress and I did love it.
I pulled it back out and hung it on the hook.
It couldn’t hurt just to try it on again—see if it really was as perfect as I’d been dreaming it was all afternoon.
Without allowing a second for my conscience to overreact, I unbuttoned my jeans, tore off my top and bra, and crawled into the dress—leaving it on the hanger until I had my arms through, then unhitched it from the hook and let it slide into place around the shape of my body.
It was hard to think I’d be telling him to return this when it felt so amazing on my skin.
As I reached around to tighten the satin bows at the back, I felt a cool touch on my wrist.
“Shh,” someone whispered; I spun around mid-gasp and a tall, handsome vampire placed an elegant finger to his lips. “Shh.”
“David, I—”
“Shh.” He smiled and nodded in the direction of the girls.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
By turn of his hand, I faced the wall again, closing my eyes when his deft fingers took my ribbons and twisted each one through the loops of the corset, tying them up; it tickled so softly, drawing warmth from inside my chest, making my knees weak. I rested a hand to the wall for support.
“All done,” he said, but as I tried to turn around,
he held me in place by my shoulders.
“What’re you doing?”
“Shh.” Using the tip of his very cold finger, the vampire traced a line ever so slowly from the base of my neck, all the way down my spine and across my shoulder blades, resting just under where my bra would sit. “I’ve never seen this part of your body before.”
Despite the urge to dissolve under his touch, I held tight to good sense. “David, you can’t just come in here, touching me like that, and expect me to fall into your arms.”
“That wasn’t my intention, sweetheart.”
I spun around to protest against his pet name, but all my anger dissipated as liquid adoration melted the green in his eyes.
“You look so beautiful in that dress, Ara.”
“I do?” I frayed my fingers down the diamantes on the bodice.
“A beauty, I fear—” he touched his chest, “—that is a perfection I do not deserve.”
Well, safe to say no one’s ever said that to me before.
He placed both hands in his back pockets and lowered his shoulders, shaking his head. My frown broke into a grin. He just had this way of looking at me, like, behind one eye he showed the human, the cheeky boy from school, while the truth of his thoughts hid within the other; he’d smile from somewhere inside himself, looking at me like he’d never seen me before. And every time he did that, I was lost. All I wanted now was to take this dress off and tell the girls to go home.
“I love you, Ara.” David laughed and kissed my cheek. “I have to go.”
“Hurry up, Ara. What, are you still sewing the seams?” Emily joked.
“It’s a corset, Em. Good things take time.” I turned back to look at David but, as usual, he left without saying goodbye, leaving me to find only emptiness.
I drew a breath to quieten my heart, then stepped out to show the girls my dress.
“Oh my God!” Emily jumped up and ran to me. “Ara, you look like a princess.”
Alana shook her head, walking slowly over. “No way, she looks like an angel.”
“Look at the way it sets off her eyes. They’re bluer than the sky against that dress, Ara.” Emily ruffled the layers of my skirt, then sighed. “I wish I could find a dress like this.”
