Tears of the Broken

by A. M. Hudson

  David looked at me and smiled. It was not returned—I’m still upset with him, too, and I don’t have any happiness in me to form a smile.

  Dad whispered to David for a second, then looked at me. Emily and I exchanged glances. “Ara?” Dad called.

  I sat up a little and stared at David, my mind filling with questions. “Yes?”

  “Go with David, please?”

  All eyes in the class fell on me; I stood up slowly and jammed my books and pens into my bag, then shrugged at Emily as I sauntered past my dad. David averted his eyes from mine and closed the classroom door behind us.

  “David, what’s this about? What did you tell my dad?”

  He started walking. “I told him I need to rehearse with you—for the benefit concert.”

  “And he bought it?” I asked, the surprise in my voice a little too obvious.

  David just laughed.

  “Where’re we really going?” I asked as we headed toward the front car park.

  “Somewhere else.”

  “David! Enough secrets.” I stomped my foot. “Tell me where we’re going.”

  “I’ve been unfair to you.” He stopped walking, too. “I have a few things going on in my life and I’ve been projecting that into this relationship. For that, I am sorry.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly.

  “What I’m saying is—” he started walking toward the glass doors, “—I feel lucky that you’re a part of my life. I should’ve been enjoying this short time we have, and instead, I’ve squandered it on fear. I don’t want to waste any more time being afraid I might hurt you.”

  “Wait, hurt me?” The bridge of my nose crinkled. “Why would you hurt me?”

  “Ara.” David turned back and pulled me along by the arm. “Come on. We need to go before they see us.”

  “No, David.” I twisted my wrist around in his grip and yanked it out through the break in his thumb and forefinger, then stood fast—folding my arms like a spoiled child. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”

  “We’re going to—to do something I should’ve done the first day I saw you,” he said quickly, taking one long stride in my direction, then, he arched his body downward as he swept me off the floor and into his arms.

  “Whoa.” I pinned my dress under my legs and nudged his chest with my elbow. “Put me down. This is kidnapping.”

  “No, it’s not,” he stated with a smile, keeping his eyes on the path ahead, “It’s is a rescue.”

  “Rescue?” I scoffed, but imagined a white horse waiting for us as we burst through the doors. “I don’t need to be rescued.”

  He stopped walking and looked down at me; I shrank into his arms a little. “The fair maiden, who is locked in the darkest tower, guarded by the cruellest beast, never believes herself to be in danger, only suffering from sorrows untold and a heart untouched.”

  Nothing but a small squeak left my lips as my daring prince, with his cheeky smile and valiant stride, carried me to his car, stuffed me inside and drove away with me.

  “Okay, prince charming.” I folded my arms. “Fess up. Where’re you taking me?”

  “The lake.”

  “Why?”

  He stared ahead and didn’t answer.

  “David. Why?”

  “Not telling.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s funnier to watch you stew.” He chuckled softly to himself.

  My eyes narrowed. Funnier? I’ll give you funnier. I tightened my crossed arms over my chest and gazed out the window. There’s no point in arguing with a steel door, and since pleasantries even went unanswered, I huffed, bit my teeth together and stopped talking.

  When David took the final turn onto the long stretch of tree-covered road, I unfolded my arms and breathed the fresh pine scent of evergreens and the cinnamon flavour of the approaching autumn. It’s funny, but that smell is kind of comforting to me, now—like the feeling you get when you finally come home after a really bad day.

  David pulled over in the usual spot, helped me from the car, and we walked in total silence until my temper became a physical burn in my chest. “Time to tell me why you kidnapped me, David.” I shot my voice to the boy a few metres ahead.

  Ignoring me, he continued on his path, gliding effortlessly over the rocks and twigs—as if he were walking an inch above the surface of the forest floor, like a ghost. Meanwhile, I stumbled and slid on the bark-covered slopes, brushing the side of my leg off constantly, then standing back up—trying to look as graceful as David.

  Infuriation burned every drop of blood in my body, and I pretty much walked with my teeth clenched the whole time.

  When we came to the rock where we usually sit, David shook his head and continued on a path we’d never walked down before.

  “Now where are we going?” I whined, dropping my arms to my sides. “I’m tired and it’s hot. I don’t wanna walk anymore.”

  He continued—tall and sleek, walking ahead of me, never looking back.

  This is so unfair! I’m not a little girl and I hate being treated like one. I feel like throwing a rock at his head.

  David spun around then, and his eyes lit with a humoured glint. The muscles on my forehead tightened a little. Why would he be finding this funny?

  “Forget to have lunch, did we?” David asked.

  “None of your business?” I folded my arms.

  He laughed and shook his head. “Actually, it is, because I’m the one that has to put up with your moods.”

  “I’m not moody.” Am I? My shoulders dropped and my breathing became uneven, weighed down by crushing anxiety. He’s tired of putting up with my moods. Maybe he really did regret becoming friends. Could that be what he meant by he’d been unfair and that he was going to do something he should’ve done that first day? Is it…to say goodbye?

  “You’ll want to take those off.” David pointed to my shoes.

  “Huh?” I looked down. “No.”

  “Fine, don’t—” he shrugged then reached behind him and lifted his shirt, revealing the sharply cut V of muscles diving just below the waistline of his jeans, then the tight skin over his abdomen.

  I looked back down at my feet as his shirt came off completely.

  “It’s okay, Ara,” David said. “You don’t have to look away.”

  “I wasn’t looking awa—” Gulp! David’s golden tan and the rounded muscles in his arms caught my breath and smacked it into my stomach when I looked at him, and the wide, cheeky grin smothering his face gobbled up my heart. I’m in trouble. I think I’m blushing. David shook his head and laughed as my hands slowly rose to my hot cheeks. Yep, he saw it.

  God, he’s so mean. Why would he bring me here and show me his beauty like this, only to deny me from ever touching him? I’d give anything right now to just run up and place my hand on his chest. Instead, I reached down and slipped off my shoes, then dumped them by a rock.

  “Come on.” He grinned, reaching his hand out. I stared at it. “Ara, please.” Reluctantly, I walked the five-pace gap and touched his fingertips. “Do you trust me?” He flashed a sincere, yet oddly curious smile.

  “Of course I trust you, David.” It came out as more of a question.

  He led me into the cold, crisp water of the lake. “Do you see where we’re going now?” he asked, pointing across the water.

  “The island?” I looked up at him.

  He nodded. “There’s a small sandbar that extends all the way across. It’s only as deep as,” he considered my height for a second, “probably your upper thigh.”

  My breath caught in my throat as the cold water reached my knees, and my fingers involuntarily tightened around David’s. “How did you find this sandbar?” I asked. It’s only wide enough for David and I to walk side-by-side, then it disappears into the depth of the lake.

  “Well,” he chuckled as he spoke, “let’s just say I kinda stumbled over it one day. It’s the only way out to the island unless you swim—or fly.”

  “
Is the water deep?”

  He nodded once.

  The summer sun crept behind the fingers of clouds in the sky, and a cool breeze took the shivers in my body and dragged them to the surface. How is David not shivering? His jeans are soaked—the water has seeped all the way up to his pockets, yet he doesn’t even have goose bumps—not anywhere on that golden brown skin of his.

  I looked down at our feet in the crystal clear water. I’ve never seen his feet before. It’s kinda funny how seeing someone’s feet can make them seem less magic, less mysterious, how it can make you think about what it’d be like to see their feet beside yours, in a bed or in the kitchen while you make breakfast. I imagined it before, but now I wish I hadn’t, because him bringing me here to break up will sting so much more now that I’ve seen his feet. David’s toes kicked up a swirl of sand which spread a murky discolouration out like a brown cloud—hiding our feet completely. My fingers tightened around his again.

  “Are you afraid?” David asked, looking at my hand.

  “A little,” I said.

  “Please, don’t be. I won’t hurt you,” he said with softness and an air of confidence that spread warmth through my stomach.

  “I know. That’s not what I’m afraid of.” I laughed. I can’t believe he thought I thought he was going to hurt me.

  “Then, what is it?”

  “I don’t want to lose you, David.” My words came out low. “I want you to stay. I’m afraid that—this might be goodbye.”

  He sighed and a hint of a smile escaped through the corners of his mouth. “It’s not goodbye, Ara. Not yet.”

  “But it will be soon, won’t it?”

  He nodded. “I thought about things, mon amour, and…it was silly for me to think I could find a way around this. All I managed was to further confirm the fact that I have to go, and I have to say goodbye to you.”

  I looked down. “So, that’s it? There’s no hope?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Then why did you bring me out here?” I looked down at the water as a tear rolled onto my cheek.

  “I—I had to show the island before I left. I promised, remember?” He squeezed my hand.

  “Yes. You did.” But what a silly reason to kidnap me from class. “Can you just tell me one thing?” I scraped my feet along the sand in the water, feeling the grain-like squish when I curled my toes over.

  “Sure,” he said, but his tone suggested he’d answer my question selectively.

  “Just tell me when—when do you leave?”

  With a breath, he dropped my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I have a little more time. It’s hard to explain. But I won’t leave without saying goodbye,” he assured me. Some assurance. Now I just feel even emptier. “The only thing I can say is that by the time winter comes around—I will be gone.”

  I nodded and wiped my cheeks with the palm of my hand.

  “We can still enjoy this time, though, Ara. There’s nothing stopping us from loving each other—for now.”

  I moved my head again—feeling detached and outside reality.

  “Are you gonna let that get wet—” he nodded to the edges of my dress, slightly touching the water. “I won’t look if you want to lift it up a little.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, regretting it as soon the water soaked in.

  A thick moss blanket smothered the water at the base of the island ahead. We waded through, parting it with our fingers—like cheese on a pizza—until the steep, muddy slopes of the banks halted us, seeming to ward off any visitors, with trees reaching out like diagonal spears. David curled his palm around a branch and hoisted himself onto it. I waited in the water, worrying about the slimy things that might be hiding under all the green, sludgy moss.

  “Don’t worry.” He looked down from his perch, grinning. “The worst thing out here is me.”

  “Well, in that case—” I reached out for David’s extended hand, “maybe I should be worrying about my heart instead of my toes.”

  Steadying himself with a hand on the broad, leaning tree-trunk, David yanked me from the lake in one fluid movement and I fell safely into his arms. “You just let me worry about your heart, mon amour.”

  The soil sunk under my toes and shifted into a small mound under my heel; I smiled once before David guided me into the tree line, where the ground levelled out as the shrubberies and thick, enclosing foliage swallowed us whole. “It’s amazing under here. I feel like I’m in my own private cubby hole.”

  “Yes,” David stored his bunched-up shirt in the waistband of his jeans, “it’s very private here. No one can see us if they’re standing on the other side of the lake—” he looked up at the closely knitted canopy of yellow and green leaves, “or flying over.”

  “Hm. Comforting to know.”

  As we walked through the loose-leafed clover, covering every surface of the forest floor, my toes tangled in the creepers. I lifted my feet a little higher with each step and placed them flat over the clover, using my hand on the mossy bark of tree-trunks to steady my balance.

  “Just watch out for these little blighters—they can cause a nasty scratch,” David said and reached forward to shift the furry, silvery arm of a fern from our path. He held it in place, dropping it softly back against the hip of tree after I passed.

  “Speak from experience, do we?” I said playfully, then, as my eyes followed the vertical columns of maples, a deliciously colourful display of twisting climbers, shrouded with palm-sized purple flowers, made me think of sprinkles on a sundae.

  David plucked a flower from a vine and held it out to me. “For you.”

  “Thank you.” My nose twitched with the sour, grassy smell as I slipped the wild blossom behind my ear. “It’s kinda noisy here, isn’t it?”

  David tilted his head as the vibrant songs of what sounded like thousands of different birds and small animals chimed through the treetops like a symphony. “It’s a kind of noise I can handle.”

  “And what, my talking isn’t?

  David looked sideways at me; I turned my face to the front and kept walking—well, shuffling. “Would you like me to carry you?”

  “I’m fine.” I straightened the flower behind my ear. “But, where’re we going exactly?” It’s not like there’s a café or anything on this island.

  “Right…over…there.” He pointed to a small patch of grass lying hidden among a tightly packed cluster of shrubs and small trees. The sunlight filtered down into the clearing and lit the grass yellow, illuminating the busy movements of tiny insects. “Come on.” He took my hand, and my heart skipped a beat as I followed him through the mess of nature.

  “Do you come here often?” I asked.

  “Sometimes.” He nodded and plonked down on the grass. “Not so much anymore.”

  “You know—” As I sat down, hugging my knees, the moisture of the soil made my legs feel sticky, and the tall clover tickled me, “if I was ten and we were playing armies, like I used to with Mike, this place would’ve been great.” It’s great just sitting here, though—with you.

  “Isn’t it great just sitting here, though?” David rested his arms over his knees and leaned a little closer. “With me?”

  My mouth dropped open; I turned my face away from his ultra-cheeky grin. How does he do that? “Sometimes I feel like you steal my thoughts.”

  “How do you know I’m not?”

  I shook my head, smiling. “That’s just the thing, I’m starting to wonder if—”

  “Wait!” He held up a finger, then looked up at the canopy as his secret smile spread across his face. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise, but—”

  “Come on.” David offered me his hand, suddenly standing, when a second ago he so was not.

  “Hey, how did you…?”

  “Come on.” He reached down and grasped my fingers, hoisting me off the ground, into his arms.

  My protest stopped instantly with the feel of his smooth skin—a whole bare chest full
of it—on the side of my face, my collarbones, and the back of my forearms as he wrapped them around his waist.

  God, just the way he holds me is enough to make me believe I’m loved, like somehow, when I’m in his arms, nothing could bring harm to me. Little bumps rose over my cheeks and across my shoulders—making me shiver, but not from cold, though. Is it possible to get these from touching somebody—from merely feeling the softness of their skin against yours in places you’ve only dreamed of for so long, or am I a freak?

  “Shh,” David said.

  “I didn’t say anything.” I rolled my face upward to smile at him, but my brow creased the second I saw his tightly closed eyes and the ultra-still mask of concentration plastered across his face. “David, what’s going o—?”

  “Shh.” He opened his eyes for a second, smiling warmly before closing them again.

  I exhaled a laugh and buried my face against the small hollow at the centre of his chest, where his kind of sweet, citrusy smell sent a tingling sensation pulsing down my throat when I breathed him in.

  All of a sudden, a strange puffing sound, like a light tapping of rain on a soft piece of cloth, filled the air. David pulled me closer, pressing one hand to my lower back, rolling my hips against him, and the other to the base of my neck, forcing my face into his chest. My cheek squished up into my eye and my lip jutted out. God, don’t look down—this is so not my sexy face.

  But his eyes stayed closed—tight, and his beautiful dark-pink lips, set perfectly into his golden brown skin, twitched, then turned up on the corners.

  The pattering sound around us became louder and a flock of birds burst out of the canopy above us—colouring the sky in reds and greens—stealing the quiet with their chattering calls.

  Silence fell over the island again as the birds disappeared into the distant horizon. Then, I saw something move from out of the corner of my eye, and felt a soft, silky tickle—like a feather brushed my arm. I hid my face against David’s chest—shielding my eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said in a low voice. “You’re safe here, with me.”

  “I know,” I said, keeping my eyes closed tight as the desire to turn my head, just an inch, and rest my ear over his heart threatened to turn into action.