Tears of the Broken (35 page)

“
David. Why?”

“
Not
telling.”

“
Why?”

“
Because it’s funnier to watch you stew.” He chuckled softly
to himself.

My
eyes narrowed. Funnier? I’ll give you funnier. I tightened my
crossed arms over my chest and gazed out the window. There’s no
point in arguing with a steel door, and since pleasantries even
went unanswered, I huffed, bit my teeth together and stopped
talking.

When
David took the final turn onto the long stretch of tree-covered
road, I unfolded my arms and breathed the fresh pine scent of
evergreens and the cinnamon flavour of the approaching autumn. It’s
funny, but that smell is kind of comforting to me, now—like the
feeling you get when you finally come home after a really bad
day.

David pulled over in the usual spot, helped me from the car,
and we walked in total silence until my temper became a physical
burn in my chest. “Time to tell me why you kidnapped me, David.” I
shot my voice to the boy a few metres ahead.

Ignoring me, he continued on his path, gliding effortlessly
over the rocks and twigs—as if he were walking an inch above the
surface of the forest floor, like a ghost. Meanwhile, I stumbled
and slid on the bark-covered slopes, brushing the side of my leg
off constantly, then standing back up—trying to look as graceful as
David.

Infuriation burned every drop of blood in my body, and I
pretty much walked with my teeth clenched the whole
time.

When
we came to the rock where we usually sit, David shook his head and
continued on a path we’d never walked down before.

“
Now
where are we
going?” I whined, dropping my arms to my sides. “I’m tired and it’s
hot. I don’t wanna walk anymore.”

He
continued—tall and sleek, walking ahead of me, never looking
back.

This
is so unfair! I’m not a little girl and I hate being treated like
one. I feel like throwing a rock at his head.

David spun around then, and his eyes lit with a humoured
glint. The muscles on my forehead tightened a little. Why would he
be finding this funny?

“
Forget to have lunch, did we?” David asked.

“
None of your business?” I folded my arms.

He
laughed and shook his head. “Actually, it is, because
I’m
the one that has to
put up with your moods.”

“
I’m
not moody.” Am I? My shoulders dropped and my breathing became
uneven, weighed down by crushing anxiety. He’s tired of putting up
with my moods. Maybe he really did regret becoming friends. Could
that be what he meant by he’d been unfair and that he was going to
do something he should’ve done that first day? Is it…to say
goodbye?

“
You’ll want to take those off.” David pointed to my
shoes.

“
Huh?” I looked down. “No.”

“
Fine, don’t—” he shrugged then reached behind him and lifted
his shirt, revealing the sharply cut V of muscles diving just below
the waistline of his jeans, then the tight skin over his
abdomen.

I
looked back down at my feet as his shirt came off
completely.

“
It’s okay, Ara,” David said. “You don’t have to look
away.”

“
I
wasn’t looking awa—” Gulp! David’s golden tan and the rounded
muscles in his arms caught my breath and smacked it into my stomach
when I looked at him, and the wide, cheeky grin smothering his face
gobbled up my heart. I’m in trouble. I think I’m blushing. David
shook his head and laughed as my hands slowly rose to my hot
cheeks. Yep, he saw it.

God,
he’s so mean. Why would he bring me here and show me his beauty
like this, only to deny me from ever touching him? I’d give
anything right now to just run up and place my hand on his chest.
Instead, I reached down and slipped off my shoes, then dumped them
by a rock.

“
Come on.” He grinned, reaching his hand out. I stared at it.
“Ara, please.” Reluctantly, I walked the five-pace gap and touched
his fingertips. “Do you trust me?” He flashed a sincere, yet oddly
curious smile.

“
Of
course I trust you, David.” It came out as more of a
question.

He
led me into the cold, crisp water of the lake. “Do you see where
we’re going now?” he asked, pointing across the water.

“
The
island?” I looked up at him.

He
nodded. “There’s a small sandbar that extends all the way across.
It’s only as deep as,” he considered my height for a second,
“probably your upper thigh.”

My
breath caught in my throat as the cold water reached my knees, and
my fingers involuntarily tightened around David’s. “How did you
find this sandbar?” I asked. It’s only wide enough for David and I
to walk side-by-side, then it disappears into the depth of the
lake.

“
Well,” he chuckled as he spoke, “let’s just say I kinda
stumbled over it one day. It’s the only way out to the island
unless you swim—or fly.”

“
Is
the water deep?”

He
nodded once.

The
summer sun crept behind the fingers of clouds in the sky, and a
cool breeze took the shivers in my body and dragged them to the
surface. How is David not shivering? His jeans are soaked—the water
has seeped all the way up to his pockets, yet he doesn’t even have
goose bumps—not anywhere on that golden brown skin of
his.

I
looked down at our feet in the crystal clear water. I’ve never seen
his feet before. It’s kinda funny how seeing someone’s feet can
make them seem less magic, less mysterious, how it can make you
think about what it’d be like to see their feet beside yours, in a
bed or in the kitchen while you make breakfast. I imagined it
before, but now I wish I hadn’t, because him bringing me here to
break up will sting so much more now that I’ve seen his feet.
David’s toes kicked up a swirl of sand which spread a murky
discolouration out like a brown cloud—hiding our feet completely.
My fingers tightened around his again.

“
Are
you afraid?” David asked, looking at my hand.

“
A
little,” I said.

“
Please, don’t be. I won’t hurt you,” he said with softness
and an air of confidence that spread warmth through my
stomach.

“
I
know. That’s not what I’m afraid of.” I laughed. I can’t believe he
thought I thought he was going to hurt me.

“
Then, what is it?”

“
I
don’t want to lose you, David.” My words came out low. “I want you
to stay. I’m afraid that—this might be goodbye.”

He
sighed and a hint of a smile escaped through the corners of his
mouth. “It’s not goodbye, Ara. Not yet.”

“
But
it will be soon, won’t it?”

He
nodded. “I thought about things, mon amour, and…it was silly for me
to think I could find a way around this. All I managed was to
further confirm the fact that I have to go, and I have to say
goodbye to you.”

I
looked down. “So, that’s it? There’s no hope?”

“
I’m
sorry.”

“
Then why did you bring me out here?” I looked down at the
water as a tear rolled onto my cheek.

“
I—I
had to show the island before I left. I promised, remember?” He
squeezed my hand.

“
Yes. You did.” But what a silly reason to kidnap me from
class. “Can you just tell me one thing?” I scraped my feet along
the sand in the water, feeling the grain-like squish when I curled
my toes over.

“
Sure,” he said, but his tone suggested he’d answer my
question selectively.

“
Just tell me
when
—when do you
leave?”

With
a breath, he dropped my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“I have a little more time. It’s hard to explain. But I won’t leave
without saying goodbye,” he assured me. Some assurance. Now I just
feel even emptier. “The only thing I can say is that by the time
winter comes around—I will be gone.”

I
nodded and wiped my cheeks with the palm of my hand.

“
We
can still enjoy this time, though, Ara. There’s nothing stopping us
from loving each other—for now.”

I
moved my head again—feeling detached and outside
reality.

“
Are
you gonna let that get wet—” he nodded to the edges of my dress,
slightly touching the water. “I won’t look if you want to lift it
up a little.”

“
I’ll be fine,” I said, regretting it as soon the water soaked
in.

A
thick moss blanket smothered the water at the base of the island
ahead. We waded through, parting it with our fingers—like cheese on
a pizza—until the steep, muddy slopes of the banks halted us,
seeming to ward off any visitors, with trees reaching out like
diagonal spears. David curled his palm around a branch and hoisted
himself onto it. I waited in the water, worrying about the slimy
things that might be hiding under all the green, sludgy
moss.

“
Don’t worry.” He looked down from his perch, grinning. “The
worst thing out here is me.”

“
Well, in that case—” I reached out for
David’s extended hand, “maybe I should be worrying about my
heart
instead of my
toes.”

Steadying himself with a hand on the broad, leaning
tree-trunk, David yanked me from the lake in one fluid movement and
I fell safely into his arms. “You just let me worry about your
heart, mon amour.”

The
soil sunk under my toes and shifted into a small mound under my
heel; I smiled once before David guided me into the tree line,
where the ground levelled out as the shrubberies and thick,
enclosing foliage swallowed us whole. “It’s amazing under here. I
feel like I’m in my own private cubby hole.”

“
Yes,” David stored his bunched-up shirt in the waistband of
his jeans, “it’s very private here. No one can see us if they’re
standing on the other side of the lake—” he looked up at the
closely knitted canopy of yellow and green leaves, “or flying
over.”

“
Hm.
Comforting to know.”

As
we walked through the loose-leafed clover, covering every surface
of the forest floor, my toes tangled in the creepers. I lifted my
feet a little higher with each step and placed them flat over the
clover, using my hand on the mossy bark of tree-trunks to steady my
balance.

“
Just watch out for these little blighters—they can cause a
nasty scratch,” David said and reached forward to shift the furry,
silvery arm of a fern from our path. He held it in place, dropping
it softly back against the hip of tree after I passed.

“
Speak from experience, do we?” I said playfully, then, as my
eyes followed the vertical columns of maples, a deliciously
colourful display of twisting climbers, shrouded with palm-sized
purple flowers, made me think of sprinkles on a sundae.

David plucked a flower from a vine and held it out to me.
“For you.”

“
Thank you.” My nose twitched with the sour, grassy smell as I
slipped the wild blossom behind my ear. “It’s kinda noisy here,
isn’t it?”

David tilted his head as the vibrant songs of what sounded
like thousands of different birds and small animals chimed through
the treetops like a symphony. “It’s a kind of noise I can
handle.”

“
And
what, my talking isn’t?

David looked sideways at me; I turned my face to the front
and kept walking—well, shuffling. “Would you like me to carry
you?”

“
I’m
fine.” I straightened the flower behind my ear. “But, where’re we
going exactly?” It’s not like there’s a café or anything on this
island.

“
Right…over…there.” He pointed to a small patch of grass lying
hidden among a tightly packed cluster of shrubs and small trees.
The sunlight filtered down into the clearing and lit the grass
yellow, illuminating the busy movements of tiny insects. “Come on.”
He took my hand, and my heart skipped a beat as I followed him
through the mess of nature.

“
Do
you come here often?” I asked.

“
Sometimes.” He nodded and plonked down on the grass. “Not so
much anymore.”

“
You
know—” As I sat down, hugging my knees, the moisture of the soil
made my legs feel sticky, and the tall clover tickled me, “if I was
ten and we were playing armies, like I used to with Mike, this
place would’ve been great.” It’s great just sitting here,
though—with you.

“
Isn’t it great just sitting here, though?” David rested his
arms over his knees and leaned a little closer. “With
me?”

My
mouth dropped open; I turned my face away from his ultra-cheeky
grin. How does he do that? “Sometimes I feel like you steal my
thoughts.”

“
How
do you know I’m not?”

I
shook my head, smiling. “That’s just the thing, I’m starting to
wonder if—”

“
Wait!” He held up a finger, then looked up at the canopy as
his secret smile spread across his face. “I have a surprise for
you.”