Dark Secrets (2 page)

“
Why?”

“
Because I got you to
school—without all the tears and fuss.”

I stopped walking,
turning to smirk at Sam.

“
Have a good day,
sis.” He skipped off with a wide stride and disappeared into the
building—now only a few steps in front of me.

I stood staring up at
it like some kid who found a wall of broccoli with their name on
it, ignoring the increasing volume of Dad’s house calling my
return. I refused to even give it a backward glance. If I did, I’d
surely run back across the grass, screeching like Sam, and hide
under my bed for the day.

Instead, I bit my lip,
considering the mundane scene beyond the glass doors with a bit of
disappointment; it was nothing like American high schools on TV.
Everything was plainly coloured and all the kids looked normal; no
glamorous groups of girls walking down the hall, flicking their
hair while guys parted for them. No one was dancing or singing and,
thankfully, no slushies. There were lockers, though—greyish-brown
ones. Not big enough to be stuffed inside.

A few boys ran past
me in a tight, sweaty group, tripping their way up the cement
steps, ignoring my neon sign, despite the word ‘
New’
having grown so big now it was
making my shoulders sink. When the doors slammed behind them and
the crowd parted, I braved step one, then step two, stopping dead
at step three, catching sight of two heavy black boots—beyond the
glass. My eyes traced them up the denim jeans to a black shirt,
rolled up over the elbows of a guy. The head, however, was gone. Or
rather, hidden behind the doorhandles. But one thing was for sure;
he was looking this way—perhaps at me, standing dead still while
people moved all around him, laughing and acting normal. And my
nerve-wracked brain concluded one thing, practically screaming out
loud,
Sweet mother of all things inhumanly
awkward, please do
not
let him be planning to greet the new kid.

I dumped my bag on the
step and grabbed my cardigan to cover my arms—hopefully to hide my
face in too. Then, with my chin tucked toward the concealment of my
collarbones, I threw my bag over one shoulder and continued with
the inevitable.

By the time I reached
step seven, Mr Black Boots, with his hands in his pockets, had
progressed forward as well. I closed my eyes and, praying he’d just
disappear, pushed the door open, waking with a gasp when a hand
grabbed my arm.

“
New?” said a girl
with a very bright smile, her blonde ponytail bouncing behind
her.

“
Ur, no.” I looked to
where the boy had been standing and, thankfully, my prayers were
answered.

She giggled. “I’m
Emily Pierce.” Her extended hand shook mine; I drew it back
quickly. “Cheer Captain and—” she tilted her head, “—your
self-appointed tour guide.”

Self-appointed tour
guide? I considered this bouncy girl for a second, forming an
opinion on her that probably wasn't fair. But, as far as I was
concerned, it really should be illegal to wear skirts that short to
school and, so, maybe her perfect skin and confident disposition
was a little threatening—maybe it forced a pang of jealousy in me,
but I think I really just didn’t like this girl.

The door swung closed
behind me then, pushing me into the school with a whack on the
butt. “I uh—” I moved out of the way for another group of people
coming in. “I really don’t need a tour guide.”

“
Okay, but, good luck
finding anything around here. Kids strip the labels off the doors
and switch them around for just this sort of occasion.” She turned
away. “If you want to be the laughing stock—”

“
Okay.” I caught up.
“Fine. Where’s the office, then? I need to get a
schedule.”

“
It’s this way.” She
pointed forward, smiling. “So, do you have a name?”

My fingers tightened
around my backpack. “Um, yeah. Ara-Rose.”

She drew a breath
through her teeth. “Yikes. Do you go by
Ara
? The whole
Rose
thing’ll get dropped around
here anyway, you know, ‘cause it kinda sounds a little…
antique.”

I smiled pleasantly,
remembering that being normal meant fitting in; slapping a girl you
just met led to detention. “I guess just Ara’s fine,” I said, but
scowled at the girl when she wasn't looking, thinking I should
start shortening
her
name. In fact, that’s what I’d do. Well, maybe later,
assuming we ever talked again after this one time.

“
So, what brings you
to our school?” the girl asked.

Death,
Tragedy.
“My feet.”

She looked at me,
then, seeing I was joking, actually laughed. And I suddenly liked
her so much more. “Seriously. Did you just move here or were you,
like, expelled from another school?”

I wondered if I looked
like the sort of kid who’d get expelled. “Sea change.” I
shrugged.

“
Eccentric
mom?”

My brow crinkled.
“What do you mean?”

“
Oh, I mean, most of
the new kids come here because their moms decided to be a painter
or marry a man they met on the Net. Eccentric moms.”

“
Oh.” I tried to
laugh. “No. Just a sea change.”

“
Well, our gain,” she
said, linking arms with me as if we were friends.

I laughed awkwardly,
using the excuse of adjusting my backpack to break away from her.
And she talked non-stop after that—her high voice too fast for my
ears, while I let my mind wander in the ugliness of the décor.
Brown seemed to be the preferred colour at this school and, in my
yellow dress, I blended in too easily with the linoleum floors. But
it was better than black, I suppose, which had been the only colour
I really took notice of anymore. Not that I wore black, but
everything just
felt
black.

“
Hey!” Emily called
from a few steps ahead. “Are you coming?”

I snapped out of my
state, realising my feet had stopped moving.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“
What were you
doing?”

I walked quickly past
her curious stare. “I, uh. I kind of faze out
sometimes.”

“
Why? Do you have,
like, a brain condition or something?”

I laughed for real
this time. “No, just an over-active imagination.”

“
Hm. Well, you should
fit in just fine here, then.”

“
Great.”
Not.

She stopped walking.
“Were you being sarcastic?”

I shrugged.

“
Because, you know,
we started back last week. If you wanted to be a wallflower, you
should have started with all the other new kids.”

“
I was…” I looped my
thumb around my backpack strap. “I wasn’t quite ready.”

“
Well, I hope you
like attention.”

Attention, I didn't
really have a problem with. It was questions I wanted to avoid or,
well, answers.

“
Come on.” She linked
her arm through mine again. “Let’s just find out where your first
class is.”

The corridor had gone
quiet—all the students closing the plain brown doors on the noise
in each classroom, leaving only the occasional squeak of Emily’s
sneaker on the linoleum. Ahead of us, pale light filtered in
through the glass doors leading to a parking lot, making the floor
gleam in an eerie way, like something out of a post-apocalyptic
horror film.

“
Okay,” Emily said,
stopping abruptly by a door on the right, her ponytail swinging
behind her again. “This is the school office and your first stop on
today’s tour.”

“
Awesome.” I nodded, fake-smiling again. “Can you just show me
to the
last
stop?”

She laughed and pushed
the door open. “Sure. As soon as the last bell rings.”

Inside the quiet,
muggy room, a lady behind the desk, talking softly on a phone
tucked into her chin, looked up and smiled, issuing a straight
finger at us while she wrote something down. “Okay, Mrs Rossi, I’ll
let them know. You just tell him to get some rest and we’ll see him
back here next week. Okay, bye.” She hung up, stashed the note
elsewhere, then looked at me; I shrunk, contemplating a quick dive
to hide under the desk. “What can I do for you, Miss
Pierce?”

“
New kid.” Emily
leaned her forearms on the counter. “Need her schedule.”

“
Name?” She put her
glasses on and fingered through a pile of manila
folders.

“
Um, Ara-Rose,” I
said, stepping closer.

She stopped searching.
“Amara-Rose?”

Emily’s eyes fell on
me.

“
Um, yes.”

“
Right.” The lady
woke up then and, in a jittery fashion, fumbled about her papers.
“I’ll just find your file here among all this mess, and—” her voice
trailed off. “Haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Been so busy
with all this stuff here. Ah, here we go.” She put her glasses on.
“Yes, this is you.”

I stared at the
folder, wondering when I had become an A-Four piece of
stationery.

“
Well, um, here’s
your class schedule—” She handed me a piece of paper. “And you can
just go ahead and take one of those there maps ya see.”

Emily handed me a
pamphlet from the desktop. I ran my fingers over it, biting my lip
to hide a hint of a grin.
This
little piece of paper was my new best
friend.

“
Now, Emily, can you
show Amara-Rose to her first class?”

“
Happy to.” Emily
grabbed my hand and dragged me from the room, but even as the door
closed, the eyes of Reception Lady lingered along my nerves. “I bet
you have English first period.” She snatched my schedule, then
grinned widely. “You do. I hate you.”

“
Nice to meet you,
too.” I took the paper back and frowned at it.

“
It’s just....” She started walking; I followed. “You
have
David Knight
in your class.”

I scratched my head,
choosing to ignore her complete lack of composure. “School
heartthrob?”

“
You guessed it. I
mean, he’s a bit of a jerk, really—to most girls, but he’s just so
damn cute no one cares.”

My lip curled. I bit
it. This girl had issues. “I don’t like jerks, really.”

“
Mm-mm.” She shook
her head. “He won’t be a jerk to you. You haven't done anything to
annoy him yet.”

“
Lucky
me.”

“
Yeah, and he totally
goes for that lost lamb thing you’ve got going.” She motioned to
me—all of me.

“
Um, yeah, well, my
biggest concern for senior year is not what some jerk-face cute guy
thinks of me.”

“
That’s because you
haven’t seen him yet.”

I rolled my eyes. As
if I’d ever be that pathetic.

“
Yep.” She considered
me again for a second. “He is just going to snatch you
up.”

“
Should I be
worried?” I wasn't partial to being snatched.

“
No
way. They’d deny it, but any girl in the school would give their
right arm to be
snatched
by David.”

Or maybe just you
would.

“
Okay.” She stopped
again. I wanted to keep walking—right past the glass doors, out to
the front parking lot and into the closet under the stairs back at
Dad’s house. “Here’s Room One; you’re late, but people will only
whisper about you for the first ten or so minutes.”

“
Great.” I faked
another smile.

“
That’s the spirit.”
She curled a fist in front of the door and said, “Take a deep
breath.”

I tried, but the deep
gasp of air just formed another lump in my throat, making me dizzy
as I held it in.

“
Okay, you can let it
out.” She laughed. “You ready?”

My head moved; I think
I nodded. Then, Emily rapped lightly on the door, sending my nerves
into a frenzy. Don’t get me wrong, I could handle nerves, and
butterflies in my stomach were just yesterday’s breakfast, but
these felt more like bats. Big black, hairy bats.

The door clinked and
popped open a little, revealing a shiny head with a light tuft of
hair around the ears. “Emily? What can I do for you?”

“
This is Ara. She’s
new.” Emily presented me.

“
Ah, yes. Of course.”
He turned to look at my face; his eyes warm, his grey-brown
moustache curving atop his grin. “Ara, is it, not
Amara-Rose?”

I shook my head—maybe
I should’ve nodded. Who knows?

“
Well, Ara, I hope you’re a much quieter student than
this
lot.” He jerked his
thumb to the noisy class; I tried to look past him to get a handle
on the room, so as not to trip on anyone when I walked in, but he
was in the way.

“
I don’t think you
need to worry about that, Mr Benson. She’s hardly said two
words.”