by A. M. Hudson
“You will. Hey, why don’t we all go shopping next week? We’ll find something just as perfect for you,” I said.
Emily nodded eagerly. “I’m in.”
Alana cringed. “I’d rather not. I hate shopping.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, I mean, not hate it, but I’d rather do other things,” she said.
I shook my head. “I’m sure you and I are kindred spirits, Lani.”
“Perhaps.” She shrugged. “Except I have better taste in boys.”
As I turned away, chuckling softly, I caught my reflection in the window; the sky was dark, and though the howling wind and the pattering rain outside made my stomach sink—for fear there might be a storm on the way—I saw only a smile on the face of the dark-haired beauty in the glass.
“Oh my God, Ara!” Emily grabbed the price tag, her mouth gaping. “Was this dress really a thousand dollars?”
Crud! My shoulders rolled forward. “Actually, yes. David bought it for me.”
“What?” Alana picked up the tag and flipped it over, searching for a sale price, I guess.
“He wanted me to feel special. I tried to stop him, but he did it anyway.” And without that cheeky grin distracting me, I found it so much easier to be mad at him.
Emily sat down on my bed, her gaze distant, hands folded into her lap. “I can’t believe it, Ara. I never thought I’d see the day when David Knight fell in love.”
“Did you not think he was capable?” I asked.
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t. I was sure that, ten years from now, when we met for our high school reunion, he’d be America’s most eligible bachelor.”
She had no idea how right she was. Ten years from now, I’d be so much older than him, and our high-school-sweetheart-romance would be a memory I thought about when I was alone. “He might still be,” I added with a light giggle. “Just because we’re in love now doesn’t mean we’re gonna get married or anything.” Only, I knew we would—if things were different. We loved each other enough to commit to a lifetime together, but I just couldn’t commit to eternity—and David couldn’t commit to a life.
“Are you serious?” Emily stood up. “He spends a thousand dollars on a dress, because he wants you to feel special, and you’re not sure if you’re going to marry him?”
I sighed, feeling utterly defeated. I wished I could tell her the truth. I knew she’d understand—be able to give me advice and take some of the burden of life and death decisions off my shoulders. If it just slipped out, if I just said it, right here, right now, maybe David wouldn’t be that mad with me—maybe he’d understand that I needed someone to talk to. And if Emily helped steer my decision toward becoming immortal, then David would only be grateful, right?
I opened my mouth and, as Alana sat down in my desk chair, with my pillow in her lap, the squeaky hinge woke me to reality. I snapped my big gob shut.
Emily squinted, studying my face. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“More to what?” I shrugged casually and started untying my dress.
“Is it…are you still in love with Mike?”
“What? I never said I was in love with him.”
“Then, I don’t understand?”
Of course she couldn’t. How could anyone? David was perfect. Why would I not want to marry him? “What’s to understand, Em? David and I—we’re in love, but we want different things in life.” I grabbed a shirt off the end of my bed. “Eventually, we’ll have to go our separate ways. We both know that. David understands.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Ara? Us, or yourself?” Emily asked.
I held my dress in front of my chest, pulled the shirt over my head and, once covered, stepped out of the dress and threw it on the bed. “What does it matter? It’s not like you’re losing him, Emily.”
She shook her head. “It matters because I care about him. We’ve been friends for years, Ara, and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s happy. And it was like he knew you were coming—like he predicted it, or something, because, about a month before we even met you, he changed—became the David everyone else can tolerate.”
About the time I arrived at Dad’s. “So?”
“So, he smiles. He laughs,” Emily continued. “And the only time that hasn't been true, since the moment he finally asked you out, was the day of Nathan’s funeral. What’s going to happen to him if you don't love him like he loves you?”
Her ignorance just made me insanely mad. “Who says I don't?”
“You just said you had no plans to marry him. Ara—” She pointed to my door, “—that boy is practically picking out goddamn rings. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“I do. Actually.” I sighed, dropping my arms to my sides as I sat on the bed, wishing I could fall into her shoulder and cry hysterically. “I hate that we can’t be together. More than you know. But it isn’t my decision to make. Not really. There are outside factors stopping us from being together.”
“Why should it matter? When you love someone, you give up everything for that,” she said.
I kind of laughed. I didn’t know Emily went so deep. Everything she said was true, though, and it hurt. I just wasn’t brave enough to risk everything for love. My mother taught me better than that—taught me to follow my head, because the heart could lead a girl down paths that may destroy her life. I just wanted to forget about decision-making for the summer; just wanted to enjoy the time I had with David and maybe, somewhere in time passing, the answer would just come to me. “That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard, Emily.”
She opened her mouth and drew a long breath. “You’re just too blind to see the logic.”
“Or maybe too sensible.”
“Guys—” Alana ditched a pillow between us. “Stop fighting.”
Emily sat on my bed, shaking her head. “Sensible people die alone, Ara—like my gran and my Aunt Betty. My dad says if you don't fight for love, you have nothing to fight for.”
Despite numerous arguments I could squash that statement with, I decided to sever the conversation instead. “I’ll keep that in mind. Shall we watch that movie now?”
The quiet hum of restful breathing filled my room under the howling of the wind outside. I laid awake, wishing I could put my bedside light on to illuminate the dark, scary corners of my room. I hugged my copy of Wuthering Heights and internally sent despise in waves of anger to the mattress on the floor. I should’ve told Emily I hate scary movies.
My phone lit the roof green for a second; I flipped over and reached across the gap between my bed and nightstand, cautiously, in case The Bogeyman reached up to grab my hand, then tucked my arms back in quickly with my phone in hand. The message on the screen read: Call me if you need me.
I smiled and texted back: Thanks, David.
But, it wasn’t him I wanted to call.
The green glow remained on my face and hands, and Emily stirred as the keypad bleeped when I pinned in the digits of a familiar number. I knew I should call my boyfriend, but in the darkness, surrounded by the fear of a storm outside, all I wanted was to hear the homeliness of Mike’s familiar voice. And with the mere buzzing of the ringtone down the line, the eerie feeling of isolation slipped away a little. Pick up. Come on, Mike. Please, pick up.
“Hey, beautiful. What’s up?” he asked, bringing me home with the sound of his voice.
“Hey, Mike,” I whispered.
“What happened?” he asked quickly. “Are you okay, Ara?”
“Sleepover,” I said. “Watched a horror movie.”
“Oh, baby girl. Why do you do it? What movie was it?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m never sleeping again.”
“You will—you always do eventually.”
“Not for a few weeks, though.”
Mike laughed. “It’ll be all right. I’ll be there in a few days, then I’ll sleep by your wardrobe and keep the monsters from coming out to get you.”
I chuckled. “It w
ouldn’t be the first time.”
“Ha, yeah, I remember that night. How old were you then?”
“Um, fourteen, I think.”
“Well, I’m sending a hug through the phone for ya, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, actually feeling a little better with that thought.
“Hey, I was thinking ‘bout you before you called. You must’ve read my mind.”
“What were you thinking about this time—me in a blender or something?”
“Ara, I don’t only reflect on memories of you in pain.”
“Hm. Seems like you do.”
“It was one memory. Once.”
“Two.”
“No. It was only the ice cream truck one.”
“And the other one.”
“Which one?”
I couldn’t think of one, realising then that I was wrong. “So, now you expect me to document every conversation we have.”
“Ara, what is wrong with you tonight?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”
“You’re doing your thing.”
“My thing?”
“Yeah, when you twist my words around until we get in a fight. Don’t do that. I’m not trying to fight with you, baby. I was just…I wanted to call you…I was thinking about you—then you called. It surprised me, that’s all.”
“You should be used to it.”
He paused. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been that in tune with each other, Ar.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He paused again.
“Mike?”
Emily rolled over and stirred with the disruption of my voice through the perfect silence.
“I’m still here, Ara. I just…I need a few seconds, okay?”
“Okay. I’m just moving into the spare room.” I walked into the hall, my toes balancing over the quiet spots in the floorboards that I’d memorised.
“Is that the room I’ll be staying in?”
“Yep.” I grinned and leaped through the dark, landing on his bed. “I’m sitting on your bed.”
“Maybe you can keep it warm ‘til I get there.”
“Yeah, sure, I’m gonna stay in bed for the next few days,” I said sarcastically.
He paused again, then, after a long breath through what sounded like his nose, asked, “So, how are things with the boyfriend?”
“Not so good.” I winced; how was the truth so automatic with Mike? “We’ve kind of decided to break up after the autumn ball.” I think.
“What? Oh, baby girl. I’m sorry. Why? I mean, why would you do that? I thought you guys were a sure thing?” Mike’s sympathetic tone brought my tears out from hiding.
“I don't want to, Mike. But he. He has a. Kind. Of. Problem.” I sniffled before the sobs came breaking through.
“What is it, baby? You can tell me.”
“I know, Mike, but—” I could feel Mike in the room with me, the way he’d normally hang up the phone, right about now, and no more than two minutes later be knocking on my window. But that wasn’t possible anymore, and after he left here and headed back home in two weeks, it’d never be possible again. “I—he has a secret and I have to keep it,” I said, sniffling. “I want to tell you. But I can’t.”
“Ara, baby, you know damn well if there’s a secret someone says you shouldn’t tell, you absolutely shou—”
“It’s not like that, Mike. Okay?” I took a moment to compose myself. “Anyway, none of it matters. He has to leave, and after the last leaf of autumn turns red and falls from the last tree, he’ll be gone.”
“What?” Mike scoffed. “What the hell is that? Some fairytale timeline, bull crap? Leaves turning red? Ara! Did he hurt you?”
“No, Mike. He didn’t hurt me. I mean, not physically. I’m hurting inside, like I always do, but it isn’t his fault. It’s my decision that caused it.”
“Wait. What? Your decision? Ara. If he hurt you, I swear to God, I’ll—”
“No, Mike, he never hurt me, okay? He asked me to come with him. To go away with him.”
A moment of silence passed. “Where?”
“Far away. I’d never be able to come back.”
I actually felt a dense cloud wander into his breath, making everything silent before imminent explosion occurred.
“Don't worry, Mike. I told him no,” I added quickly before he could freak out, even though it was a lie.
The explosion came across the miles in a loud whoosh of air, the phone line interpreting it as static. “So, you—what, you’re breaking up when?”
“When winter comes—maybe before. He said I could count on him staying until at least the end of summer.”
“And how…” I heard him sniffle. “How are you coping with that?”
The sadness of the idea felt so final, so eternal now that I’d said it aloud. “Not sure.”
“Well, you still have me.”
I laughed out in one short burst of air. “I know. I’ve always had you.”
“It’s just not really a consolation, is it?”
“Don't be like that, Mike.”
“I'm sorry. I just…” He paused for a few ticks of the clock on the wall. “Do you hate me, Ar? Is that why you didn't take my calls?”
“Hate you? Why would I hate you?”
“Because of…because of what happened that night.”
For the first time since that night, I allowed myself to think about it all—to really think about it. Did I hate him? He turned me down—rejected me. But you can't be held responsible for the desires of your heart; it wasn’t his fault he didn't love me. “It would be easier—if I hated you.”
“Don’t say things like that,” he said softly.
“Why?”
“It hurts me to think of you wanting to hate me.”
“Why?”
“You know how I feel about you, Ar.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I don't think you do. I don't think you get it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can't…you can do no wrong, baby. All that stuff—everything—it doesn't change the fact that you will always be my best friend. You know that, right?”
“I know, Mike. I just...can we just forget it ever happened, please?”
“Already forgotten.”
I sighed and stood up from Mike’s soon-to-be bed, then looked out at the twinkling stars in the sky to the west; they reminded me of David—after our blissful night on the rooftop—and for the rest of my life, they always would. Which was funny, really, because, while thoughts of my dark knight remained with the midnight sky, thoughts of my Mike, my warmth, would always be the beaches and sand—the blue skies. Two separate parts that made my days whole—made my world.
“You okay, Ara?” Mike asked.
“Just thinking how much I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll be there soon,” he said.
“I know, but you’ll be gone soon, too.”
Mike sighed. The sound strengthened the memory of his face; his prominent jaw, with a kind of arrogant set to it that was completely softened by his charming smile—the kind of smile that made you a part of his world when he offered it to you. I could see his shaggy, sandy-coloured hair, the blonde tones lighter in the summer, and his autumn-brown eyes, deep, like leaf-covered pools.
“Where are you, Ara? What world of thought have you slipped away to this time?” he asked in a soft, almost whisper.
“A world I don’t want to be in.”
“Just hold tight a few more days, kid. I’ll be there to pull you out soon.”
I smiled to myself. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, kiddo.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’ll be back before dark,” I called to Dad, closing the lid on Vicki’s sewing box.
“It’s going to rain—you’ll need a coat,” he yelled from upstairs.
I stuffed the pilfered pin into my pocket, taking a quick look at my bare ar
ms, then tiptoed out the front door, pulling it quietly closed behind me.
“Take a jacket,” David said sternly.
“God!” I jumped back from the vampire. “You gotta stop popping up like that.”
“Jacket.”
“Oh, fine.” I went to obey, then stopped, folding my arms. “Actually, no. If you want me to bring one—you can go get it.”
His eyes slowly narrowed above his tight jaw, an invisible rope bringing his shoulders back, making them straight and hard. I swallowed, about to shift my hand and place it on the doorknob, when a breath of wind swept my hair back and David grabbed my hand, leading me to the car—with my jacket over his forearm.
“I love how you do that.”
“Hm,” is all he said.
We sat quietly on the first half of the drive out to the lake, not a peaceful silence either—a deliberate one. I had nothing good to say to him today after that whole dress incident last night.
“Vicki seems happy about your dress,” David chimed, a flash of pure white teeth gleaming through his dark pink lips.
“I’m sure.” I folded my arms.
“Oh, come on, Ara. You’re not really mad, are you? It’s a dress, let it go.”
“It’s not the dress I have a problem with—” And all of a sudden, we were arguing again. “It’s the fact that you went behind my back. You picked through mine or Vicki’s brain until you found what you wanted, then took it upon yourself to force me in a direction I didn’t want to go.”
David smiled. “But you love the dress.”
Even though I refused to look at his charming smile, I could still feel its warmth. My arms dropped to my sides. “I do love the dress. But I’m just afraid it’ll always be like this, David. That you won’t respect my decisions.” Like the one to stay human.
“I never thought of it that way.” He looked down at the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Ara. I must have misinterpreted your thoughts yesterday when we talked. I’ll…I’ll take the dress back.”
“No. Don’t do that.” I choked on my own words. “Just...in future, even if my thoughts indicate the opposite, listen to me when I say no.”
He nodded. “So, you’ll wear the dress?”
“David, of course I’ll wear the dress. I love the dress.”
