Dark Secrets (29 page)

“
Me too.”

“
And I’m sure, when
you see Mike in a few weeks, you’ll fall back into step with each
other right away.”

“
Yeah, probably.” I shrugged, then curiosity itched. “So? What
about
your
family? Do you have any brothers or
sisters?”

“
I have a brother. A
twin.”

“
Really? Wow.” I sat
up next to David’s hips, crossing my legs under me. This was way
too interesting for a lie-down conversation. “Are you
identical?”

“
Yes. We look the
same, but we’re very different.”

“
Well, I gathered
that. Why doesn’t he go to school with us?”

“
He chose a different
path—stayed with my uncle, in New York.”

“
So, who do you live
with, then? Are your parents still together?”

“
My mother passed
away when I was a baby, and my father followed not long
after.”

“
Oh, David.” I
covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“
It was a long time
ago.” He rested his arm behind his head.

“
So, you grew up with
your uncle?”

“
Well, I was raised
by my aunt, and when she passed away, my uncle took my brother and
I into his care.”

“
Wow, you weren’t
kidding when you said you’d suffered a lot of grief. I feel bad,
like I’m making a big deal out of my problems, but you—”

“
Don’t say that.” He pushed himself up on his elbow and took
my hand. “You have every right to ‘make a big deal,’ Ara.
You
just
lost
your mom. My grief, my loss, it all happened a very long time
ago.”

“
Can’t be that long
ago. You’re only a teenager.” I frowned, half laughing at the way
he brushed off his own grief—just like me.

He smiled and looked
down at our hands, then took a deep breath. “I’m older than I look.
The things I’ve been through in life have
made
me older—given me wisdom beyond
my years.” He laid back and said through a breathy smile,
“Sometimes I feel like I’m over a hundred years old.”

“
Sometimes you sound
it, too.”

“
I know.”

“
So, do you see your
uncle much, I mean, since you moved away?”

“
Every other week or
so. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.”

“
What
for?”

“
We’re members of a
council. We have a few things to discuss.”

“
What kind of
council?”

He cleared his throat.
“A charity organisation.”

“
Oh. What
charity?”

He grinned. “Blood
donation.”

Hm. “Then, I must
confess.” I showed him my arm. “I’ve never donated.”

He laughed out loud.
“Something we shall have to remedy.”

“
No way. No one
sticks needles in me.”

“
I could rent a
vampire for the day—he could draw it from you.”

I rolled my eyes. “So,
what about your brother? Do you see him much?”

“
Jason?” David’s
cheek flinched. “Not so much. We’ve kind of grown
apart.”

“
Why?”

“
He uh—” He eyed
Vicki as she passed my bedroom door, pretending not to look in on
us, “—he and I had a falling out a while back. Things are…neutral,
now.”

“
Neutral?”

“
Mm,” he muttered and
sat up. “I’m just waiting for him to find out about
you.”

“
Is that a bad
thing?”

“
No,” he said in
short. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“
I don’t like that
answer, David.”

Vicki passed my
room,
again,
and
David pulled my hand, making me sit beside him. “How ‘bout we get
out of here for the day, go to the lake?”

A smile spread across
my lips—a real smile. “Sounds great.”

“
Okay. Do you have a
picnic basket?”

“
Yeah, I think so,” I
said, standing up beside him.

“
Go get it.” He
leaned in and pecked my cheek. “I’ll run to the store and get some
supplies.”

Chapter
Ten

Drawing a deep lungful
of the woodsy leather smell, I smiled. Dad’s car smelled nothing
like this, and though the upholstery of David’s car was sticky and
uncomfortable under my legs in the summer heat, it seemed to retain
the aged scent of experience—a bit like riding in the car with my
grandpa, which made it emotionally comforting—kind
of…safe.

Heavy weekend traffic
made the trip out to the lake take longer. David, only half paying
attention to the road, watched me sort through the CDs in his glove
compartment. Most of the music would belong better in my dad’s
collection, but a tickle of elation perked me up at the sight of
familiar cover-art. “I’ve actually heard of these guys.” I held up
the disk. “I know a few of their songs.”

David smiled. “I have
that album on my phone. I’ll bring it with us when we get to the
lake—play it to you.”

“
Okay. Do…do you like
them? I mean, I know you have a CD, but, like, what’s your
favourite one of their songs?”

His chest puffed out
with a deep breath as he looked at the CD. I held it up so he could
see the back. “Off that album…Overcome.”

I nodded, scanning the
song titles. “Why that one?”

“
I like the
piano.”

“
Oh.” I considered
the cover, then left it in my lap.

“
We have more in
common, musically, than just that one album, Ara,” he said, clearly
having sensed my gloom.

“
I hope
so.”

“
You’ll see. Don’t
worry—it’s as important to me as it is to you.”

“
Okay.” I looked out
the window for a second. “What’s your favourite song at the
moment?”

“
Ooh—” He drew a tight breath through his teeth. “Hard to say.
I go through phases. I uh—
right
now
, I’m actually really enjoying
Moonlight Sonata.”

“
I like that one,
too.” I smiled, sitting back. “Maybe you can play it for me—on the
piano at school on Monday.”

“
Ara.” He placed his hand firmly on my leg. “I would
love
to.”

“
Great.” I loved
watching him play; it was almost as if he never even had to think
about where his fingers were going. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard
him hit a bum note, and just the thought of watching him play again
filled me up with…well, happiness, I guess. “Hey, can I tell you
something?”

“
Sure.” He tore his
eyes away from the road and they locked to mine for a breathless
second.

“
David!” I sprung
upright in my seat, eyes wide. “Watch the road!”

“
It’s okay, Ara. You
are more than safe in the car with me.” He reached across and pried
my fingers from their grip on the leather seat. “My uncle forced me
to take one of those stunt-driving courses once. I know how to
handle myself on the road.”

“
That doesn’t mean you’re incapable of having an accident,” I
scolded. “Besides, it’s not just
your
driving I’m worried
about.”

“
Would it make you
feel better if I told you I’ve never had an accident?”

“
No.” I stole my hand
back.

“
Okay. I’ll keep that
in mind. No more eye contact when driving. Deal?” he said with a
breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“
Deal.”

“
Now, what were you
about to say, before?”

I wasn’t sure if I
should say it, since the moment had passed.

“
Just say
it.”

My uncertainty
lingered in the silence.

“
Ara, say
it.”

“
I’m happy, is all.”
I shrugged and looked away. “I’m happy that we said we love each
other, even if people say there’s no such thing as love at first
sight.”

We both stared
forward, silence the only common ground. I kind of wished I hadn’t
said it. One thing I’d learned about life was that happiness is
subject to ignorance; as soon as you acknowledged it, it’d
disappear—like everything else you care about.

David smiled; his own
private joke again. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“
What?”

“
Being in love with
me.”

“
I’m just
at odds
with how I feel and what common sense says—you
know, what I
should
feel.”

David watched the road
carefully, his easy smile making me feel silly for having doubts.
“You can’t make rules for your heart, Ara. And…if you berate
yourself for what you feel, you’ll eventually convince yourself not
to feel that anymore. So—” He studied my face for a quick second,
then turned his eyes back to the road. “Please just let yourself
love me. I love you, and I don’t want to lose your heart to some
silly laws made up by man.”

“
But people just
don’t understand it.”

“
Then stop trying to
make them. If they’ve ever loved before, then they’ll understand
and, if not, just let it go. They’ll get it one day.”

I took a long, slow
breath. “You’re right, you know, about being aged beyond your
years.”

He laughed. “Do you
think you can still love me, even if I’m an old man, deep down
inside?”

“
Maybe. How old are
you, anyway? Emily said you’re older than us.”

“
Emily should mind
her business.”

I smirked. “Feisty,
aren’t we?”

“
No. I just despise
gossip.”

“
Well, we wouldn’t
need to gossip if you ever told me anything about
yourself.”

He exhaled. “She’s
right. Emily. I am older. I’ll be nineteen in November.”

“
Are you repeating a
year?”

“
Yes.”

“
Why?”

“
I uh—” He scratched
the back of his head, resting his elbow on the door after, his fist
in front of his lips. “I went through a rough patch a few years ago
and…I kind of let my grades slip.”

“
What
happened?”

“
That was when I left
my uncle—to come here.”

“
And…why did you
leave your uncle?”

“
I lost someone.” He
swallowed, putting both hands on the steering wheel again. “I’ve
been hiding from the world in a way, I guess, ever since. I wanted
to pretend I was still seventeen—get back some of the time I
lost.”

“
I’m really sorry,
David.” I wished I could just kiss all his pain away. But grief
just didn’t work like that. “So, is that one of your secrets—your
dark secrets?” I said playfully.

“
No.”

“
Will you tell me
something else about you—something I don’t know?”

“
Not
today.”

“
Why?”

“
Because.”

“
Not good enough. You
know everything about me; I know nothing about you.”

“
And it will stay
that way.”

My eyes narrowed and I
bit my teeth together, folding my arms again. “Fine. Don’t tell me.
But I won’t stop bugging you until you do.”

“
Fine,” he scoffed
out a chuckling breath, “but I don’t give in easily.”

“
Yeah? Well, I’m very stubborn. I don’t give
up
easily.” There was so
much attitude in that delivery, I wondered if perhaps I
was
capable of normal
teenage behaviour.

David’s head rocked
from side to side, fluid with annoyance. “You are a wilful
creature, Ara-Rose. I swear you will be the death of
me.”

“
I will if you don’t
stop keeping secrets.”

“
Ara, be nice,” he
said.

I tilted my nose in
the air and watched the trees outside, blurring in hues of green
and brown as we passed them.

The drive to the lake
was relatively short, but the scenery changed so much, from closely
gathered houses to a long stretch of highway and finally, a tunnel
of trees around a hard-packed dirt road. As the tires crunched on
the gravelly shoulder, my blue guitar, which hadn’t shifted the
whole drive, clunked noisily—the vibrations drawing gentle hums of
odd notes from the strings. I glanced over my shoulder to check on
it; still upright, the strap looped safely over the headrest in the
backseat.

As I turned back to
face the front, David’s gaze quickly shifted from me to the road.
“What?” I asked.

“
You’re not mad at
me, are you?” he asked cautiously.

When aren’t I?
“No. But I do wish you’d trust me.”

“
Believe me, I do
trust you. But, to tell you more about myself means letting you
into my world, Ara.”