Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  Sam’s jaw clenched. I felt a little sorry for him. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. They should be able to see that. And they were probably just making light of the situation, but I felt a sudden urge to protect—something I’d never felt for Sam before.

  “So, Dad?” I said. “You know my friend from Australia—Mike? He said he might come over in a few weeks. Can he stay here?”

  “Here? You want a boy to stay here, under the same roof as you?” Vicki jumped in.

  “He’s not a boy,” I corrected. “He’s a man.”

  “A man? Oh, well that makes it okay then,” she said, poorly attempting sarcasm. “How old is Mike now, anyway?”

  “He’s twenty,” I said, and looked at Sam, who mouthed thank you before returning to his casserole.

  “Twenty? Ara, you’re not even eighteen yet. It’s against the law.”

  “Vicki?” I screeched. “Mike and I have never been like that with each other. God, we used to take baths together.”

  “Not to mention, Mom,” Sam said, “legal age of consent is sixteen. I checked.”

  “Now, why on earth would a boy your age be looking up that kind of information?” she asked, horrified.

  Sam just smirked.

  “Look.” Vicki closed her eyes for a second. “I’m sorry, Ara-Rose. I’m just not used to having a daughter. I”—she exhaled—“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “Well, I appreciate that, Mom,” I said with a mouthful of carrot. “But you don’t have to worry about Mike. There’s this, like, invisible barrier around him that repulses me from loving him that way.” Or, more like repulses him from loving me that way, but I would never admit that aloud.

  She nodded. “Well, all right. But when does he want to come?”

  “As soon as he gets his acceptance into Tactical—in a few weeks,” I beamed.

  “What, the SWAT unit?” Dad asked.

  “Yeah, that’s not what they call it over there, though.”

  “Is he gonna be a sniper?” Sam asked, sitting taller.

  “Um, no.” I frowned at him. “But, anyway, he’s got one interview left, then he gets a few weeks off before training begins.”

  “Well, that’s great, Ara.” Dad reached across and patted my hand, as if this was my victory. “It’s what he always wanted, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, swallowing my mouthful. “Yep, he’s doing well for himself.”

  “Shame you don’t like him then,” Vicki added.

  “Nah, he lives in Australia, anyway.” I shrugged. “Could be a bit tricky.”

  “At least you couldn’t get pregnant,” Dad said with a completely straight face.

  I stopped chewing, and Sam coughed a carrot out onto his plate, but Dad just sat there eating and sipping his wine as if nothing had been said.

  “Moving on then?” Vicki suggested, raising her glass.

  5

  Bright yellow sunlight beamed off my mirror and into my eyes, blinding me. I rolled over and faced the wall, snuggling back into the warmth to seek out a few more minutes in the bliss of this cloud-soft bed.

  As I fell asleep last night in my own world of fantasies, I came to know David so much better than I did yesterday. Perhaps maybe even well enough to invite him over after school today. Except, that would mean introducing him to Vicki… and cleaning my room. Hm, perhaps not. But I felt grounded today for the first time in so long, and actually ready to have friends again. Maybe because this was the first morning I’d woken without crying since I got here. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like. And I knew it was because of school—because I met David, Emily, Ryan, and Alana yesterday. When I thought about getting out of bed, getting dressed and going to school, I actually felt a bubble of excitement in the place where I used to feel dread.

  After finally getting out of bed, I threw on my light denim shorts and a pink tank top, then wandered out of my walk-in robe. The floor rug—woven entirely out of dirty laundry—stared back at me, its evil laughter making demands for the release of my shoes.

  “Where are they?” I muttered to myself, lifting a sweater and some jeans then tossing them beside the empty laundry basket.

  “You nearly ready for school, Ara?” Vicki asked, opening my door without knocking.

  “Yeah. I just can’t find my shoes.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised.” She laughed.

  “It’s not my fault.” I stood up, dusting my hands off. “My wardrobe got a stomach flu and threw up all over my room.”

  “Why don’t you go down and have breakfast? I’ll find them for you—maybe even tidy up a little.”

  I smiled at her, about to accept, when I spotted one shoe under my bed. “Ooh, there it is.”

  She walked in and started picking up clothes, as I sat on my bed and slipped my shoe on. “Here.”

  “Oh, thanks. Where was it?” I asked, taking it from her.

  “Near your dresser. How it got so far away from the other one, I don’t know.”

  I shrugged and, seeing my favorite sweater in the pile of clothes over Vicki’s arm, stood up and tugged it out. “I never wash this.”

  “Why?” she asked, horrified.

  “I just… it was Mike’s.” I hugged it to my chest.

  “Fine.” She took it from me and laid it over my chair. “Now go down and eat, please. You’ll be late for school.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed my schoolbag and, after scoffing down a bowl of oatmeal, practically ran to the front door.

  “A little eager today, Ara?” Dad said, dropping a quick kiss to my cheek as I passed him.

  All I could do was grin.

  “Want a ride to school?”

  “Dad? Why don’t you try walking for once?”

  “I have to go ’round the front. Easier to drive.”

  “Wow, that’s so lazy. Walking’s better for you.”

  “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  “Oh, really? Like what? Work on that heart attack you’re trying to have?” I nodded toward his travel mug, which we both knew was full of coffee with way too much cream and sugar.

  He saluted me with the mug, taking another sip as he walked away. “Have fun at school, honey.”

  “Bye,” I said, closing the front door behind me, but my conceited smirk went flat when I heard a low growl coming from the end of the porch. Skittles, with his fluffy gray tail thrashing about, sat curled up like a porcupine, hissing and snarling at something. I followed his evil-kitty stare to a boy standing across the road. Just standing there—a guitar case by his feet, eyes on his phone, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. And my heart dropped into my feet.

  David.

  “Psst. Shut up, Skitz.” I stomped on the floorboards.

  The cat startled to silence, but his tail kept thrashing.

  I wondered if David was maybe waiting for me—if he even knew I lived here. Then again, everyone knew which house was Mr. Thompson’s, so it was a safe bet I lived here, too.

  As I leaped off the porch steps and onto the grass, the frogs in my belly jumped up to my chest, making my heart pound. I didn’t know what to say to him, or if he’d even remember me. But that was silly. Why wouldn’t he remember me?

  All around me, the summer sun warmed the ground, making the grass look almost yellow. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, tasting the flavor of fresh dew blowing in on the breeze. When I opened them, David looked up and met my smile with a grin, and I practically floated across the road. He looked really sexy in that shirt. It wasn’t black, like I first thought, but dark gray, and way too much for my hormones to handle. I almost didn’t care if I freaked him out with my ogling. It was his own fault for looking so sexy.

  “Hi, David,” I said cheerfully—maybe too cheerful.

  “Hello, Ara.” He took my backpack and tossed it over his free shoulder. “You look pretty.”

  I bit my lip, practically melting into a puddle. “Um, than
ks.”

  He laughed. “Okay, now you just look pink.”

  Both hands slowly rose to cover my cheeks. “Well, don’t say nice things to me then.”

  “Okay. But that doesn’t leave me a whole lot to say.”

  I smiled up at him, forgetting every thought when the morning sun beamed down across his hair, highlighting the golden tones and making every strand obvious. I just wanted to run my fingers through it. “I like your hair,” I said, instantly snapping to the realization that I just said it out loud.

  “Thank you.” He grinned mischievously, sweeping his hand through it. “I uh… I grew it myself.”

  I laughed. “Sorry—forgot to put my brain-to-mouth filter on this morning.”

  “That’s okay. I like you that way.” He dropped his hand into his pocket, and my eyes strayed from his hair to his jaw, then down to the top button of his shirt, sitting slightly open to reveal the golden skin beneath. “Ara?”

  “Hm?”

  “Stop biting your nails.” He gently pushed my fingers away from my mouth.

  “Oh.” I stuffed both hands tightly into my pockets. “Didn’t realize I was.”

  After a soft smile, he started walking. “I know. You do that a lot.”

  “I know.” I grinned sheepishly, then pointed to his guitar case. “What kind of guitar is it?”

  “Oh, uh—” He looked down at the case as if he needed reminding. “It’s a Maton. Twelve string.”

  “Nice.” I nodded, yawning.

  “Did you sleep last night?”

  “Actually, I did. For the first time in months.” I smiled, but dropped it instantly, realizing my response could be bait for more questions. Please don’t bite, I thought.

  “You don’t normally sleep?” he bit.

  “Uh. Well. I, um. Yeah, of course I do. I just meant that…” Wow, I’d really put my foot in that one. “I stayed up late talking with a friend last night.”

  “But you said you slept.”

  “I did. After.” I looked at my feet, wishing he’d just drop it.

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “Huh?”

  “Who were you taking to last night?”

  “Oh, a guy I grew up with—in Australia.”

  “A guy?”

  “Yes. A guy.”

  “And he’s… a friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was he a school friend?”

  “Not really. I mean, he was a few years ahead of me in primary school, then I went to an all girls’ high school so, you know, we played at school as kids, but not once we grew up.”

  “What did you do then?”

  I laughed. “Then? He practically lived at my house, or me at his.”

  David nodded, his eyes straying slowly forward. “And you miss him? That’s why you stayed up talking?”

  “I—” I closed my fist around my thumb, resisting the urge to munch it. “I don’t really know.”

  “You don’t know if you miss him?” he confirmed.

  I felt his eyes on me; felt him searching inside me, sending my shoulders around my ears.

  “How many years ahead?” he asked, changing the subject out of nowhere.

  “What? Who?”

  “This guy.” He smiled. “You said he was a few years ahead in school. How much older is he than you?”

  “A little over three years,” I said, growing taller without the tension shrinking me.

  “So… he’s twenty?” David asked.

  “Yup. Twenty one in May next year.”

  David nodded. “And what about you? When’s your birthday?”

  “What, you can’t guess that by studying some random feature of mine?” I said sarcastically. “Like my piano hands?”

  “I could find out for myself, if I wanted to. But I’d rather ask you.”

  “Well, when you put it that way… March seventeen.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “Pisces, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “That explains a lot.”

  “Hey! What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just funny how much that fits you.”

  “Says he who’s known me for a day.”

  He smirked.

  “Hey-you-two.” Emily waved before we reached the top of the stairs.

  “Hi, Emily.” I waved back, noticing that, aside from her top being blue, we’d pretty much dressed the same.

  “Good morning, Emily.” David nodded in his cool, charismatic way.

  “Ready to start another day?” she said.

  “Alwa—”

  “Em. David,” Ryan called, running out from the school. “It’s Nathan, guys,” he added, stopping in front of us.

  “Who’s Nathan?” I looked at David.

  “Oh, right. Sorry, Ara, you wouldn’t know about this,” Ryan said, “but he’s our star quarterback. He got sick last week. Hasn’t been able to get out of bed.”

  “Oh, that’s awful. What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

  “Well, at first they said it was a really bad flu or something, but my mom just spoke to his mom in the pharmacy.” Ryan looked at David. “He’s had to go to the hospital, man. They couldn’t keep him at home any longer.”

  “What? No!” Emily covered her mouth. “Will he be okay?”

  “They’re not sure. He’s on machines and stuff to keep him alive, but you know Mrs. Rossi? She was crying ’cause she doesn’t have insurance—said she can’t get Nathe the care he needs without mortgaging her house.”

  Emily’s eyes watered, her whole world coming down around her. “What are they gonna do?”

  “Are you all good friends with Nathan?” I asked.

  “Everyone is. He’s just one of those guys, y’know?” Ryan told me.

  “Well, why don’t we do a fundraiser?” I shrugged. “We could put on a concert and charge people to come—give the money to Nathan’s mom.”

  As if a light bulb had been switched on, they all looked up at me with a shimmering glint in their eyes. “Oh my God, Ara.” Emily grabbed my forearm and bounced on her toes. “That’s such a good idea.”

  “Yeah, good one, Ara.” Ryan grinned.

  “We should get moving on this right away,” Emily said. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Hawkins about it… er, if you don’t mind me taking over your idea, Ara.”

  “Oh. Yeah, Em, this is better your project than mine.”

  “Great.” She beamed, rocking back on her heels. “Well, I’ll get things moving, and maybe have everyone meet in the auditorium at lunch if they want in?”

  I nodded, shrugging.

  “Okay.” She went to walk away, then stopped. “Way to go, newbie.”

  “Yeah. You rock,” Ryan said before skipping off to inform Alana, as she came out from the school.

  And David and I were finally alone again. Or maybe just I was. He seemed distracted, wearing a kind of fake smile I thought belonged only to me: the tight-lipped one that covered a set of gritting teeth.

  “David?”

  He bent down to pick up his guitar case, his arched brows prompting my question as he stood up again.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  The edgy concern lifted from his face instantly. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”

  * * *

  While Miss Chester prattled on up the front of class, I drew pictures of eyes all over my notepad: sad eyes, smiling eyes, secretive eyes, but all of them David’s eyes. Not that they really looked anything like his. I doubted even a camera could capture the true beauty of his face if my memory could do it no justice.

  I tapped my pencil on the page, trying to see through the solid classroom door, hoping David was waiting for me out there. The clock on the wall sat at three minutes to lunch, but the corridors were already bustling with students, and I was in the only class whose teacher didn’t give early marks.

  Then, almost as if it obeyed my command, the bell wailed loudly and the class broke into noisy shuff
les, fleeing the room. I tucked my books under my arm and pushed my chair in, looking up to the sound of my name.

  “Yes, Miss Chester?”

  “Can I talk to you, please?”

  “Um, sure.” I glanced quickly at the corridor again—to freedom, to David leaning on the locker with his hands in his pockets, looking down at his shoes. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, I was just wondering how you’re doing?” she said softly, busying her eyes on some papers.

  “Doing? Uh… I’m… fine.”

  “Just so you know”—she looked up at me, her pale lips forming a smile—“I’m a good friend of your dad’s. If you need to talk, at any time, I’m always available. Okay?”

  I smiled politely, hugging my books a little tighter. “Um, thanks.”

  “Okay, and, Ara?” she said as I turned away.

  “Yes.”

  “Try to pay more attention in my class.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yep,” I said, feeling stupid after. Yep? Who says ‘yep’ to their teacher?

  “Everything all right?” David stood from his lean as I came out of class.

  “Yeah. Fine. Why?” I let him take my books.

  “What did Miss Chester want?”

  “Sheee… just wanted to see how I was going.”

  “Going with what?”

  “Uh, homework?” I cringed at the obviousness of my lie.

  David smiled warmly, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. “So you’re not paying attention in class, huh?”

  Damn it. He heard. “Um, no. Not really.” I looked down at my feet as we walked, half noticing the walls go from white to burgundy.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not what?”

  “Why aren’t you concentrating?”

  “I… I guess… I’m tired?” And there was that questioning tone again.

  “I thought you said you slept last night.”

  Damn it! I did, didn’t I? “Um…”

  “You can talk to me, Ara.” David gently grabbed my arm, stopping us by the auditorium door. “You don’t have to make up a lie.”

  “Lie? About what?”

  “I heard what she said.” He waited, looking right into me as if I’d just spill the beans in the middle of the school corridor. “She wasn’t just asking how you were coping with a new school, was she?”