Tears of the Broken (60 page)

“
How
long?”

“
If
you heal fast—a week, maybe. If not—a month.”

Crud! If Dad sees it, he’ll freak. I wrapped my hand over the
bite. It stings so badly—worse now with David’s denim jacket
scratching against it. But the strong smell of him is all over the
inside of this coat, so I don’t mind one bit.

“
Oh,
and, one more thing.” He grabbed my arm again. “The history paper?”
He kissed my temple quickly. “Don’t do vampires.”

“
Why?”

“
Just don’t.”

“
You
never give me a reason.” I huffed, dropping my arms to my
sides.

“
I
don’t have to—you should just trust me.”

“
No
way. What do you think this is? The eighteen-hundreds?”

“
No.
I think you are a human, and I’m a vampire—and I have my reasons.”
He turned away with a sly smile, and the room filled with light as
he opened the door—severing any further discussion.

Humph!
I’m still doing vampires. You
can’t stop me.

He
leaned closer as we stepped into the auditorium again. “Try
me.”

The
group of David’s friends, only at rehearsal for their comedy skit,
burst into a Mexican wave as we walked out. My cheeks flushed with
heat, and the humiliation nearly forced me to run back into the
closet. David grabbed my arm.

“
Hey, Dave? Man, your jeans are wet,” one of the jock’s
pointed to the cola spill.

“
Funny. Real funny.” David nodded and took my hand.

“
Now I wish you
had
eaten me in there,” I
said.

He
laughed as we wandered back to our table. “Don’t worry about it. No
one will pass any further comment on it. I’ll
personally
see to that.” He squeezed
my hand.

“
Oh,
hey, you’re back.” Emily smiled casually.

“
Do I need to ask what
you two
were up to in there?” Ryan
lightly nudged Alana with his elbow.

“
We
were just talking,” David said casually and pushed my chair in for
me as I sat down.

“
Right, ‘cause everyone goes to the make-out room to ‘talk’,”
Spencer said.

“
As
a matter of fact, that’s exactly why we were in there. I would
never be so inappropriate as to display my affections for the girl
I love, in a closet space,” David said, then winked at
me.

Everyone looked into their laps. Conversation.
Over.

“
So.
Subject change,” Emily chimed in. “The memorial concert? The whole
reason we’re here?” She motioned around the table.

“
Let’s start the rehearsal, then.” I grinned, biting into my
nachos. They taste boring in comparison to David. I’d prefer to
have him, instead.

From
the corner of my eye, I saw David grin. He reached under the table
for my hand, winding his leg under my ankle as I entwined my
fingers around his.

This
is nice. This is how things should be. Sitting at lunch with
friends, talking about normal things—but hiding a burning desire to
run away with the boy you love, and never let him go.

It
surprises me, though, that I can just
be
here like this. It should seem
like only yesterday I was so afraid to cross the street and come to
school, but, surrounded by new friends, talking and acting
normal—having pencil throwing fights and laughing about our
mistakes during rehearsal—the happiness I own right now makes me
feel like I’ve been here, at this school, all my life.

Thursday passed with a rhythmic pace; note passing with David
when we were in the same classes—only I didn’t need to pass them to
him, since he just read my mind; talking with Emily in History,
trying to get kicked into Mr. Adams’ class, and lunch times with my
group of friends in the music hall, rehearsing for the memorial
concert.

When
the day ended, I said my goodbyes and wandered across the oval
toward my dad’s house, stealing the quiet for my own private
thoughts—for once.

The
sun warmed my upturned face and the wind caressed the crevices
around my nose and under my chin. I closed my eyes, entrusting the
safety of the widespread field of grass as I bounced along,
smiling.

It’s
nice to be able to smile to myself, for no other reason than the
fact that I’m happy. I never thought I would be again, but I am
now, even though the feel of the wind on my cheeks brings back a
strong memory of losing my mum. The damage to my face after the
accident took a long time to heal properly, and sometimes, if I
angle my jaw into the wind the wrong way, I can still feel the pain
of the internal bruising the doctor said could take months to heal.
But today, the wind feels nice.

“
Haven’t you learned not to walk with your eyes
closed?”

I
smiled, keeping them closed anyway. “Hmm.” So much for private
thoughts. “Well, I’m happy. If you want me to get across the road
safely, you’ll just have to walk me home.” I opened my eyes to look
at David. I can’t believe how normal he looks with a schoolbag on
his back—he’s just David, just as he always has been. His dark side
is a secret. No one could ever imagine he’s a vampire, and no one
will ever know. Except me.

“
So,
I was thinking?” David glided along beside me, at my pace, with his
hands behind his back.

“
Mm.
I’m listening.” My eyes narrowed when I noticed the cheeky grin
slipping onto his lips.

“
I
want to buy you a dress for the Masquerade.”

“
A
dress? Why?”

We
stopped for a second, and David took my hands. “This will be your
first real ball. I want you to feel like a queen. And,” he turned
and started walking again, smiling, “I won’t take no for an
answer.”

“
But…Vicki?” I ran after him. “She wants to take me
shopping?”

“
And
she can.” He spun around and walked backward. “But when you find
the right dress, I want to pay for it.”

“
David, I can’t—”

“
Ara.” He cut in with a finger to my lips.
“I’ll have no more of this. Just accept it, as a gift—a token of my
affection for you. It will do me great honour to escort you to the
ball in a dress fit for a queen—for
my
queen.”

My
throat stopped passage of all vocabulary. I froze in place, my
hands and feet numb under the weight of his perfect words. All I
could do was nod and swallow the sentence that had been my
retort.

What
can I possibly say to that?

Vicki busied herself chopping vegetables, and David laughed,
sitting beside Sam at the dining table—helping—or
doing
his homework for
him.

No
wonder Sam like’s David so much.

I
smiled at Vicki and pointed to the fruit bowl at the end of the
bench. “Tar,” I said, biting the apple she passed me.

“
David, will you stay for dinner tonight?” Vicki
asked.

David looked up from explaining something to Sam. “That’d be
great, Mrs. Thompson. If Ara doesn’t mind.”

A
giant invisible question mark formed above my head.
Why would I mind, dummy? Unless you plan to
eat
us
for
dinner.

David smirked.

“
Great,” Vicki beamed, without needing my answer. “It’s
nothing special, but I’m making apple pie for dessert.”

David looked at her with the most incredibly charming smile
and said, “Apple pie happens to be my favourite.”

“
Oh,
really?” Vicki looked at me with the excitement of a little girl in
her eyes. “That’s great then.”

She
likes you
, I sent my thought to David; he
stifled a small chuckle and pointed the tip of his pencil to the
top of the page in front of Sam.
I wish
you’d come over here and tutor
me
—I don’t get this Pythagoras’
Theorem crap.

Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw David look over at me for a second,
but as the numbers on the page started to shift into place in my
brain, I fazed him, Sam and Vicki out, and concentrated on my
homework—taking a sideways glance every now and then to see David
look up at the same time.

This
math thing really isn’t as hard as I thought, but maybe I should
pretend not to get it so David will sit next to me. He’s been here
all afternoon and I’ve not held his hand or even heard his voice,
really. And I doubt Vicki will let me take him up to my room to do
‘homework’.

A
roll of paper hit my forearm, bounced up and landed between my
wrists. I looked at David, who winked as I unfolded it. Written in
perfect Victorian cursive handwriting, the note said:
What exactly would we be doing in your room—other
than homework?

Stay
out of my head!

He
laughed and picked up his coffee cup. I’ll show him. As it touched
his lips, my inner voice practically yelled,
how ‘bout we do what we did under the stage the other
day.

Brown liquid burst all over David’s homework; he coughed,
pushing his chair out and wiping his mouth and chin on his sleeve.
“Ara!”

That’ll teach you
. I giggled,
covering my mouth as apple pieces threatened to expel with
laughter. Vicki stared between David and I, and Sam, oblivious to
all other life forms aside from himself, simply shook his head,
sighed, like
we’re
immature, and went back to his homework.

“
Ara,” Vicki said, “What did you do to the poor
boy?”

David stood up, placed the coffee cup in the sink, then took
the dishcloth from Vicki and wiped the table and his homework,
shaking his head the whole time.

“
Nothing,” I said innocently.

“
I’m
sure.” She turned back to the stove and poured some cream into the
pot. “So, you have the girls coming for a sleepover this Saturday,
right?”

“
Mm-hm.” I nodded—quickly looking back at my
homework.

“
So,
when are we going dress hunting? I assume you’ll want to do it
soon, before Mike arrives?”

My
head whipped up to look at David, now back in his chair; he smiled
behind his book—keeping his eyes on the text and nowhere near my
infuriated glare.

Did
you know she’s been thinking about the dress issue?

“
Did
Ara tell you, Mum?” Sam smiled at David. “David’s gonna buy her a
dress?”

Traitor! I wonder how much David paid him to say
that.

Vicki looked at me, then at David. “That’s a very kind offer,
David. Are you sure?”

“
I’m
positive, Mrs. Thompson. If you take her shopping, I’ll cover the
costs.”

“
Dresses can be expensive,” she said in her
speaking-to-an-ignorant-teenager voice.

David leaned back in his chair and breathed out through a
smile. “There is no price too high. I want Ara to have the
prettiest, most extravagant dress money can buy.”

Vicki stared, her mouth gaping. “How much do you want her to
spend?”

Don’t, David, please don’t,
I looked
at him and shook my head. Vicki will definitely spend exactly what
he tells her to, without any hint of remorse. I, on the other hand,
will feel like a dirty thief.

He
grinned and completely ignored me as he ripped a corner of his
notepad, scribbled something down on it, showed it to Sam, who
nodded, and then passed it to Vicki. “No less than
this.”

Vicki gasped.

“
What? Vicki, how much? Tell me?” I whined.

Vicki folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket,
spinning back to the stove with a bounce in her step. “So, we’ll go
shopping on Saturday morning then, before your friends
arrive?”

With
a subjugated frown, I folded my arms and looked at David; he
chuckled, and my heart melted. I let out a deep breath and pushed
aside my disdain for bought affections—well, for now anyway. I will
evade this dress-buying scheme. I’ll just have to think of a plan
later—out of the glass window of David’s mind-reading.

You’re cheeky, David, but I love you.

David nodded and turned back to help Sam.

We
finished our homework, all of us existing in a familiar silence for
the rest of the afternoon, until Dad walked in, his face lighting
up as soon as he saw we had a guest.

Then, the topic of my dress came up at dinner, and as usual,
Dad betrayed me, expressing how great he thinks it is. By the time
I’d cleared the plates and David gave Sam the night off dishes, I
had to pretend to admit defeat.

“
Is
it awful?” I asked, taking a wet plate in my tea-towel-covered
hand.

“
Is
what awful?” David re-rolled his sleeve over his elbow and stuck
his hands back in the sink.