Dark Secrets (Dark Secrets #1)(19)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“So, Ara?” Emily interjected. “You moved over here from Oz. Why?”

David snapped his mouth shut, and my posture drooped a little—not likely noticeable, but enough to make me feel smaller. We both sat back down with a little too much weight in the slump. “I—uh.” I wanted to say mind your own business. As I scanned the room, wishing the jocks would throw a banana or something, David reached across to grab the salt from my tray and knocked my milk carton flat. Everyone jumped back just as brown rivers spread across the plastic table, trickling onto the floor, right where our laps had been.

“Ara, I’m sorry. That was an accident.” He lifted our trays out of the mess, shaking his head. “I’ll get a sponge.”

After he walked away, I looked at Emily and we both broke into laughter.

David didn’t know it, but I owed him—big time.

When the bell rang, I stacked my dirty tray on the trolley and smacked straight into David’s chest as I turned around. “Oh, David, you scared me!”

“Sorry.” He smiled and placed his tray on mine, staying awkwardly close to me. I took a half a step back so I could look up at him without straining my neck. “Are you okay, Ara?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and hunched my shoulders a little. “Why would you ask that?”

He looked around the almost empty lunchroom. “I’ve seen you avoid the topic of your family and your home twice today.” He stepped closer—close enough for me to discover that the top of my head only just met his mouth. “I just want you to know that I am an excellent listener.”

“I—” I couldn’t speak; he was way too close to me. His lips nearly brushed my hair as I nodded, and the heat of his breath—with an underlying cool, like he’d just had a mint, yet warm and sweet—trickled over the bridge of my nose. I took another step back from him, afraid I might accidentally stand on my toes and kiss him. “I…um. It’s nothing. I’m fine. I just—” really should’ve made up some elaborate lie before I came to this school, is all.

“Okay, Ara.” David took a deep breath and looked to the side. “Like I said, I’ll be here when you want to talk. I—I can see there’s something bothering you. I don’t have to know you to notice that.”

“Well. That’s…a little bit concerning.” I laughed it off. “Look, when I need a friend? I promise, you’ll be the first person I come to.”

“Okay.” He looked into my eyes for a long moment. I wondered what he could see there. I’d been told my emotions displayed themselves on my face, but for my sake, I really hoped not. “Come on.” David ushered with a nod. “Let’s get you to class.”

The shrill peal of a whistle summoned football practice to start behind me, and the dull thud of a boot on the ball made my skin itch to be off the field. But I wasn’t ready to go home, so I perched myself on a tree stump at the edge of the road and looked across at the white house. It was a different world over there; the maple trees lined the paths on both sides of the street, and behind them sat quaint little houses—whimsical yet mysterious—like something from a fairytale. They were pretty much all the same as my dad’s, just different colours; some grey, some olive green, but mostly white. The kind of houses that, on the fourth of July, had flags hanging from the porches, and kids running from the long, grass-lined driveways waving sparklers around. Dad’s house was the only one with a hedge fence, though, since, thanks to Vicki’s aversion to Man’s Best Friend, we were the only family on the block without a dog. Instead, we had an overfed cat, whose one value was keeping my feet warm in winter. I could see his tail sticking out from behind the gutter over the porch—the same place he was sitting last time he fell from the roof. Stupid cat.

“Hey, Ara.”

I looked up, squinting in the sun. “Hi?”

“Do you live around here, or are you lost?” asked a boy who looked remarkably like my brother.

“Uh, yeah—I live just over there.” I pointed across the road.

“The house with the blue door?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” He nodded, thoughtful. “That’s pretty cool. Ours is brown.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s only blue because it’s supposed to be good luck.”

His lips tightened. “Didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Well, red’s actually good luck. But, I didn’t have the heart to tell my mom. She’s old—she gets confused,” I joked.

“Should just paint it red, then tell her it’s blue. She probably won’t even notice.” He smiled down at me and extended his hand. “I’m Spencer, by the way.”

“Hi.” I shook it.

“Well, I better go. Later.” He flipped his chin before walking across the road, disappearing into the shade of dancing maple leaves.

Dad was right. I nodded to myself. The kids here weren’t so bad.

“You can go in,” someone muttered sarcastically from behind.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hey. What’ya starin’ at?”

“Cat’s up on the roof again.”

He chuckled. “So go get him down.”

“No way. I already fell off that roof. Not planning to do it again.”

“Ha! Yeah, I remember that. What were you, like, seven, then?”

“Six, actually.” I looked at the second storey of the house. “And you shouldn’t laugh. It was a big fall. I could’ve been killed.”

“Mom thought you were, remember?”

“No.”

“Don’t you remember her running down the stairs behind Dad, screaming She’s dead—oh, my God, Greg—she’s dead? Vivid memory.” He tapped his temple. I chuckled. He imitated a very good version of Vicki’s panicky voice. “That was my first traumatic experience, y’know? And I owe it all to you.”

“Well. You’re welcome.” I rolled my eyes.

“Isn’t that why Dad bricked up your balcony door—and put a desk there?”

“Yes. But probably also ‘cause it’s harder to sneak out a window than a door.”

Sam smiled, and somewhere, as the day had gone on, despite what I felt for him this morning, I kind of felt a pang of a connection then—seeing my dad’s eyes in his. “Do you smell that?” he asked.