by A. M. Hudson
His rounded eyes burned through me, deep into my soul; he wanted me to feel what he felt right then, but I already knew. I could feel it myself—in my bones, breaking my resolve.
I looked away. It hurt too much to see that on his face. It would only destroy me over and over again.
The locket sat in David’s outstretched palm, shimmering like moonlight on sand in the soft, dull light of our eternal darkness.
Placing my thumb against the heart, I closed his fingertips around it and held my grip there for a second. “This is not goodbye, remember?”
“Not yet, anyway.” He nodded solemnly as he placed my heart into his pocket, and then, like so many times before, without a word, without a smile, the darkness was the only thing I saw in his place.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
With my back against the wall outside Mr Benson’s class, I hugged my books—the books David usually carried—and watched everyone pass. They didn’t talk to me. They hardly even gawked at me anymore, and the horrid yellow linoleum just seemed to be a part of the scenery, ironically, like me. Didn’t mean it fit, though.
“Hey, did you hear?” Emily came bounding over.
“Depends. What was I supposed to hear?”
“The benefit? We raised enough to cover Nathan’s funeral.” Her lips practically touched her ears. “And due to an anonymous donation, Mrs Rossi won’t have to pay the hospital bill, either.”
“Wow, that’s really great.” We moved aside for Mr B to get into class. “So, who’s the donor?”
Emily glared at me. “Ara, the point of being anonymous is that no one knows who you are.”
“Oh, right.” I closed my eyes for a second. “Sorry. I’m just—I’m not really with it today.”
“Are you ever?” she asked; I shrugged. “So, what happened to you anyway, after the show? You just…disappeared.” She fluttered her fingers as if throwing a handful of butterflies into the air.
“I uh—”
“Is it Mike? ‘Cause you guys seem pretty friendly.” She paused for a moment. “Is Mike taking you to the ball? Since David had to go New Hampshire?”
New Hampshire, huh? “I haven’t asked him. But, I guess he will. It’s been really busy around my place lately.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. We haven’t even gone shopping for my dress yet.”
“Oh, my God. Emily. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”
“I don’t blame you, not with a hunk like that hanging around.” She elbowed me softly, hugging her books to her chest.
“Can I make it up to you?” I asked.
“Yeah, okay.” She lifted one shoulder and dropped it. “Hey, why don’t we go tonight? Maybe have some dinner out?”
“Yeah, you know—” I grinned, “—that may be just what I need. What time?”
“Six fine with you?”
“Sounds—great.” Really great, actually.
We parted ways and I suffered the trials of obligation for the next seven hours in silence. It was during this desolate wandering I had a revelation; school was so boring. I decided I wouldn’t be coming tomorrow and probably not for the rest of this week, actually. I wanted as much time with Mike as I could get before he boarded that plane next Monday and, if I decided not go with him, disappeared from my life forever.
It seemed to be the way with people I loved; I’d get to hold them, love them only long enough to realise I couldn't live without them, and then they were gone. A blink of an eye.
There was no going back to the simplicity—the uncomplicated rose-coloured glasses of love. Love was not enough anymore, and if love were truly blind, then I’d surely be running away with David.
But the heart must not be allowed to rule the mind. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. Though, I was starting to wonder which one was which.
* * *
Mike sprawled out across my bed and sorted through the playlists on my iPod while I fussed about in my wardrobe, choosing a dress to wear out. “So, what’s this shopping trip for again?” he called.
“Um. Emily needs a dress for the ball. I was supposed to go with her last week, but…” I shrugged to myself.
“Ball?” The words came from directly behind me.
I spun around, cupping my hands over my bra. “Mike? Get out of here!”
“Relax, kid, I’ve seen it all before.”
“No,” I scoffed, shoving him. “Get out. You can talk to me when I’m decent.”
“You look pretty decent, now.” His smug grin made me smile, but common sense took over and I shoved him again.
“Out. Now!”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed as he backed away, palms raised. “So, are you going to the ball?”
“Well, I—” I looked at the dress, hanging in all its glory on the hook beside me.
“Was David supposed to take you?” Mike asked from right behind me again.
“Hey. I said out!”
“Just answer me and I’ll go.”
“Don’t give me that cheeky grin, Michael Christopher White. I said out. Now, out.”
He grabbed the finger I pointed in his face. “Make me.”
“I shouldn’t have to. You should give a girl some respect.”
“I do respect you.” He pulled me close, cupping his warm hands on my bare waist. “I’m also just very attracted to you. So—” he grinned, running his thumb from my rib to my hip, “—can I escort you to the ball, since the flesh eater isn’t here?”
Flesh eater? Oh, right, he was referring to the bruises on my neck. “Don’t talk about him like that, Mike,” I said. “Besides, I thought you hated getting all dressed up?”
“Who me?” His eyes flashed with mischief. “Ara, I would like nothing more than to dress like a penguin and dance with the most beautiful girl in the room. Besides, we both know I look hot in a suit.”
I glared up at him, making my eyes small. His hands clasped together so tightly behind me then that I couldn't really move. I wanted to tell him to get out, but I also wanted him to stay. I just wanted it to feel right. But it wasn’t right. Not yet.
“So, what’d ya say—will you let this lowly Aussie hunk escort his princess to the ball?”
“No, but I’ll let my best friend do it.”
“Great. I’ll go buy a suit tomorrow then.”
“Okay, thanks, Mike.”
“No worries, baby.” He rested his head on mine, cradling me close, continuing his welcomed intrusion.
“Um, Mike,” I said into his warm, firm chest, my lips practically eating his shirt with each word. “Kinda need to breathe.”
“Oh, sorry.” He let me loose. “I always forget how fragile you are.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, now, out. I need to get dressed.”
“Ara?” Vicki called. “Emily’s here.”
“Send her up,” I called back and glared at Mike.
“Okay.” He laughed at my ‘nose in the air’ stance, then turned around, but didn’t leave. “Maybe I’ll take Sam to another movie.”
“You two are getting pretty close.”
“Yeah. He’s a good kid,” he said, leaning on the wall, forgetting he was supposed to be looking away.
“He’ll be sad when you go.”
“Maybe I just won’t go then?” I could hear the question in his suggestion. He wanted me to ask him to stay.
I shrugged instead, buttoning my jeans. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now, Mike. I have too much on my mind.”
He went quiet, nodding, then wedged both hands into his pockets, took one last long look at me and left with a cheeky grin on his face.
After a less than successful shopping trip, Emily and I sat empty handed at the café and ordered a burger. “Mike seems nice.” Her eyelids fluttered. “You were definitely right about his cuteness.”
I nodded, swallowing my mouthful. “He feels really bad for practically shaking you the other day.”
“It’s okay. Really. I get it. He was worried.”
Her smile subsided to a frown. “Really worried, actually.”
I nodded, feeling pretty awkward.
“So, how’s David?” she asked. “Have you two run up a huge phone bill yet?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few extra times, looking at her plate.
I placed my burger down. “I uh...I actually haven’t spoken to him since he left.”
“Why’s that? Has he lost his phone again?” She grinned.
“Um, no.” My jaw tightened to hold back the quivering lip. “We broke up, actually.”
“What?” she screeched; everyone in the café turned to look at us. “What do you mean? Why?”
“He…he wasn't going on holiday, Em. He...was moving away—permanently.”
Her face contorted—an illustration of her thoughts. “But…he didn't even say goodbye.”
“I know. He hates goodbyes,” I lied.
“But, he was my friend!”
The waitress nearby stopped walking and looked at Emily.
She cleared her throat, blinking back tears. “He wouldn’t just leave without so much as a goodbye.”
“I'm sorry, Em. He did.”
Her lip trembled. “But…I knew him longer than you. Why would he just…that’s so mean.”
“And you’re surprised? You know what he’s like.”
“Yes.” She scowled at me, like this was my fault. “But he was never mean to me, Ara—never intentionally, anyway.”
“Well, I don't think he left to be mean, Emily.”
“Why did he leave—did he tell you?”
I sunk my chin against my hand with a huff. “His uncle got a call to move, and David had to go with him.”
“His uncle?” She frowned. “David doesn't live with his uncle anymore.”
I sat taller. “How do you know—did you ever go over his house?”
“House? Ara, he lives in an apartment.”
My stomach dropped through my legs and onto the floor. “So you went there?”
“Of course I did.”
“Oh. Um.” Ouch. “Well, I'm sorry he didn't say goodbye, Em. Maybe he’ll call you or something.”
She looked down at her meal, folding her bottom lip over her top one, her eyes awash with thought. “How are you coping then?”
“Me? Fine.”
She smiled, her eyes glassy. “Liar.”
I laughed once. “No, really, I knew this was coming, so I'm okay.”
“How long have you known?”
I shrugged.
“Did you know at the sleepover?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Not planning to marry him. So, that’s what you meant that night?”
I nodded.
“I'm sorry, Ara.”
“I'm okay.”
She stared me down. “Ara, I’m your best friend. You don't have to be strong around me.”
Funny thing was, she had become my best friend, and I knew I could tell her about David—and she’d understand. “Thanks, Emily. But I really am okay.”
“Did he say where he was even going?”
“No. Only that he won't be back. That’s why we broke up.”
I could see the thoughts flickering across her brow, in her eyes and over her lip, changing, forming into questions. “Why didn't you go with him? I mean, if I loved someone as much as you loved David, I would’ve just jumped in his suitcase.”
I laughed. “Um, well, because I didn't want to.”
“Why?”
“He…he wants a kind of life that I…well, we want different things.”
“Like?”
I swallowed. “Well, I want a family one day, and he—”
“He?”
“He wants a career in…” Punishing naughty vampires. “Politics. He can't have distractions, like a family.” Or food he’s in love with.
“Kids?” Emily practically spat. “You let David go because you want kids?”
I nodded, knowing it was a poor argument.
“I don't get you, Ara.” She dabbed her teary eyes with her napkin.
“Not much to get, Em. It is what it is.”
She shook her head, leaving her burger abandoned on the plate. “It’s getting late. We should probably go.”
“Okay,” I said softly, grabbing my bag as I stood up. “You okay, Em?”
“Yeah. I’m…yeah.”
I sighed, linking arms with her as we left the cafe. “Hey, Em? About your dress? We only have five shopping days left—are you sure you didn’t like any of them?”
She grimaced. “No. None of them really felt right. I don’t know, maybe I’ll just go in jeans.”
“Yeah, it might be a bit tricky for Spence to co-ordinate his tux with denim.”
“Well, it’s no big deal, really. If I don’t find a dress—I just won’t go.”
“You have to go!”
“Why?”
“I…” I frowned. “I guess you don’t.” I hadn’t really thought of that. I was so caught up in our only options being to either find her a dress or have her go in something old and tatty, I never even considered the idea that there were other choices to be made.
Which made me realise…I had options, too—just like everyone else.
Maybe I’d been going about this whole immortal-love-or-eternal-sadness thing all wrong. I’d been feeling trapped by the choice between two paths—David or Mike—but it was the confines of my own mind narrowing those choices.
I walked a little taller as we reached the parking lot, thankful that Emily was distant and distracted herself, allowing me to escape to my own thoughts.
Fate had stepped in and offered me an alternative to eternal blood. But maybe I didn't have to choose either of them; maybe I could choose to be on my own—to go in a different direction altogether and forget love.
Since Mum died, I’d spent so long blaming myself and living with guilt and anguish that I’d forgotten I was a girl of my own rights, and that there was such a thing as choosing how to feel.
Like when Dorothy made it home from Oz, she learned that she was never really gone in the first place—that all the fear and loneliness she felt in that world was in her own mind.
I have control over my own life, and I get to choose what it is that breaks me...
* * *
‘Dear diary,
Power of choice lasted about as long as it took me to sit in the nook of my window, diary in lap, and look out at the empty night. Emily was heartbroken about David tonight, and I wondered why he hadn’t at least said goodbye to her. She was right. She never did anything to hurt him. He shouldn’t have left her without a goodbye. And her sadness magnified my own, making my sudden epiphany to be independent null and void. Who was I kidding to think I could just get over David and Mike by choosing to be happy on my own?’
I chewed my pen for a second, then rubbed my ankle, warming the icy chill that whistled in under the slightly open pane. Down in the street, with the moonlight hidden behind a dense cloud, cars and trees looked shadowed and intimidating. It seemed eerily still out there, but the familiar feeling of being watched trickled past my reflection, making me hold my breath a little. I wished it were true—that I was being watched. By David. Except, a part of me was deathly afraid it may be something else—or no one at all. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
‘I never even leave my window open, anymore’, I continued, ‘I don’t want the fresh air, and I’m also a little afraid David’s creepy brother might visit me in my sleep again.
That freaks me out beyond words.’
A loud crack outside startled me, and a bright flash turned my legs white for a second.
I froze, unable to inch the window closed so the menacing storm wouldn’t notice me here. It grew in the sky above me, rolling in over the tops of the trees, carrying every fear, every tear I ever cried, surrounding me, cornering me in this tiny little space, only half covered by glass.
Then, in a second attempt to demonstr
ate its power, the thunder ricocheted off the distant horizon with a sharp snap, receding to a dense growl. And I believed it, submitting to the taut being it demanded I become. I thought it had passed—my fear of storms. I’d tried so hard, for so long, to grow up and get over it, and only a few weeks ago I thought I’d succeeded, but it seemed that every time something broke in my heart or my life, so crumbled that pillar of strength I thought I’d built.
I looked across my room to my door, knowing Mike would be out there—awake, waiting for me. But he wouldn’t always be there to comfort me through these thundery spells, unless I went with him to Perth.
If I stayed, I’d have to learn to wait out the storms, alone—find a way to live while they raged on.
I leaned my back against the wall and let thought consume my expression for a moment.
The call of the storm howled outside, but inside, my heart battled with my mind, stirring the force of a hurricane, waking my vault of indecision again, opening the overly-traversed door of Mike versus David.
When the next crack of thunder hit, though, I decided then and there that none of it mattered right now. Safety. Warmth. Hiding from that storm was all that mattered. That was all.
I ditched my diary and ran, a something’s-going-to-grab-my-ankle kind of fear moving my feet. But my heart jumped a beat of relief when I looked across the dark, empty corridor to see Mike’s door open. I leaped toward his bed—without touching his floor, and fell into him.
“Hey. There you are.” He wrapped his arm around me as I snuggled up as close as physically possible to his bare chest. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to come in here.” His voice sounded so light. I could tell he was laughing at me. But I didn’t care; I just needed to feel his arms around me—needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry, Mike. I—”
“Shh, don’t be sorry, baby. I was actually hoping you’d come in.”
“You were?”
“Why do you think I left my door open?”
I smiled, listening to each beat of his heart come as reliably as the next, letting my shoulders drop as Mike stroked my head, easing away the knot in my stomach. “Thanks, Mike.”
