Tears of the Broken (8 page)

“
No
way.” She leaned back in her chair, mortification alight in her
eyes. “I would be so humiliated.”

I
scratched my temple and shook my head. That would humiliate you—any
less than admitting to his daughter that you have a crush on her
father?

“
So, how was Library, with
David
?” she asked, kind
of singing David’s name.

What
do I tell her—that he led me around all morning, spoke French to me
and told me he thinks I’m pretty? Nope. No way. That will only make
her judge me, too. “It was okay. He seems nice.” I nodded casually,
catching a second of Dad’s lecture about Greek gods as I
spoke.

“
You
like him?” She wore a quizzical expression, but when my cheeks
broke into an uncontrollable grin, Emily smiled, too. “I knew it.”
She pointed at me. “I knew it.”

I
grabbed her finger and pushed it down. “I do not.”

“
Oh, I’ve seen that look before. You
have
Knight Fever
.”

“
Knight what?”

“
It’s what we call it when all the girls swoon over
David.”

“
I’m
not swooning.” I turned my face away. Is it that
obvious?

“
He’s charming, isn’t he?” She leaned on her hand, her
thoughts a million miles away. “It’ll kill you, you know? Knight
Fever. Have you heard the I don’t date speech, yet?” She
laughed.

I
drew a tight breath and bit my lip.

“
Oh
no. You have,” she said soothingly. “Oh, I thought—” her head moved
slowly from side to side. “Well, now I’m sure he’s gay. I mean, I
was sure you had to be his type. Us girls have pretty much got it
down to a science.”

“
Got
what down to a science?”

“
The
girls David Knight will and will not scope.”

“
What’s scoping?”

“
Perving…you know…checking out.” She shrugged.

Oh.
“He scopes?” I didn’t think he was like that—he didn’t seem that
way.

“
He’s a hot-blooded male, Ara? Of course he does. Just, very
subtly,” her tone dropped its certainty. “Like, he never actually
looks, but he’s nicer to some than others. So, we’ve grouped
together a sort of profiling on him.”

“
Okay, that’s just creepy,” I said, turning away.

“
It’s not—” she paused when my dad glared at us, “—it’s not
like that. It’s just a bit of gossip. We don’t have like, a file on
him or anything.”

“
So, you thought
I
was his type?”

“
Well, I was sure, but…I guess not.” She shrugged, staring
forward.

That’s it? A shrug? That’s all I am? I really like this guy,
and I’ve just been dusted off with a shrug. My irritation dissolved
momentarily under a rumble in my stomach. I should’ve eaten at
recess. I drummed my fingers on the desk, trying really hard to
focus on Dad’s lecture about Zeus. “He seemed so genuine,” I turned
and whispered to Emily, letting my temper get the better of me. “He
walked me to every class. He was so nice, so sweet, and then—” I
told her about the bathroom blunder and the theatrical
kiss.

Her
eyes rounded into her brow. “Are you serious?”

“
Yes. So what’s the deal, then?” Frustration thickened my
tone.

“
He
has. Never. Done. That before,” she exclaimed.

“
Okay? So why did he give me the speech?”

Her
head shook slowly again. “I can
not
figure that boy out.”

The
bell rang before I expected it to. I swallowed the last of my
sentence and smiled at Emily. She’s so easy to talk to. At first I
thought she was a bit stuck up, but from the way she just talked to
me for the last forty minutes, I’m pretty sure it’s just a
front.

I
jammed my books into my bag and looked up when Emily nudged me with
her elbow, nodding over at the door. At the end of my gaze, David
came into focus, leaning against the doorframe of the classroom,
his hands in his pockets and a very sexy smile across his
lips.

“
Mm-mm.” Emily shook her head, hugging her books.

“
What’s mm-mm?”

“
Hm, he likes you, Ara—he’s just trying not
to
show
you.”

“
You
think?” I looked back at David, now talking to my dad.

“
Come on, girl? Even Mr. Thompson noticed the way he was
staring at you.”

My
hand flew to my forehead to hide the humiliation. “Oh no, it’s the
touch-my-daughter-and-you-die speech.” I want to melt—hide under my
desk and slink away.

Emily sighed and rolled her head to the side. “They’re both
so gorgeous.”

Ew,
creepy. Speaking of creepy… “I hope Dad doesn’t give David the
creeps. I only just met the poor guy.” And I’ve already scared him
off with my ogling eyes and long, slow sighing.

“
Nah, he’s just telling him to keep his hands off his
daughter. Can you blame him?”

David grinned at me, further proving my suspicions that Dad’s
currently humiliating me.

“
Okay?” Dad patted David on the shoulder.

David nodded politely. “I had no intentions of that, Mr.
Thompson.”

Just
hide me now. I really hope I don’t receive the tail end of that
lecture. Dad sat back at his desk and I chose the opportune moment,
as he reached for something on the floor, to slink quietly
past—sinking my neck into my shoulders. Emily shamelessly stopped
in front of the desk just to tell Dad how great his lecture was
today. Never mind that she wasn’t even listening. I really like
Emily.

“
Hi,
David,” I said. He just smiled and took my bag for me as we walked
into the corridor. “David, I’m so sorry. What was my dad saying to
you?”

He
laughed to himself. “You know, it’s okay, Ara. If I was your
father, and I saw some punk kid look at you the way I’m sure I was,
I would’ve said a lot worse.”

We
stopped walking, and I groaned, slamming my back against a row of
lockers as I tried to rub the ache of mortification from my
temples.

“
Of
course,” David continued after a short breath, “if I’d known he was
your dad, I might’ve thought twice about—”

“
About hanging out with me.” I dropped my hands to my sides
and huffed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” And so, I lose my
first friend. I’m in no way offended, though. I knew that going to
the same school as my dad was going to have its pitfalls. I’ve
accepted that. I expected people to decline from being my friend
when they found out.

“
No—” He stepped closer to me, shaking his
head. “No, Ara, I would have thought twice about staring at you
that way—in
front
of him.” His words softened on the end.

“
Oh.
Okay. Well, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you
earlier.”

“
Well, a heads-up would’ve been nice,” he said.

“
Touché.” I smiled, surprised he remembered me saying that in
music class.

“
So?” We both said at the same time and then
laughed.

“
You
go.”

“
No,
ladies first.” He bowed his head.

“
Um, about before—” This is going to be
difficult. I’ve given away too much about my feelings for David,
and I have to make him feel comfortable with me again—I have to let
him off the hook. “You—um, I think, well, uh. Hm—” Wow, this guy
has single-handedly disarmed my natural articulation. I think what
I should say is
me no speak good no
more
.

David sighed and waved his hand up. “Okay, stop
there.”

I
snapped my mouth shut.

“
What I said before about dating?” He
paused. His eyes lowered and his lips pressed together as he let a
breath out through his nose. “It was a mistake. I’m so used to
having to give that speech, but I didn’t mean it for
you
. I was just
illustrating how I don’t—I mean—I’m just not that kinda guy.”
David’s fists clenched beside him. “I have to really like a girl
before I’ll walk her around the school for the day. So, what I was
trying to say is that—” He looked directly into my eyes, and all
the students in the hall seemed to disappear, “You’re not just any
girl, Ara, I—” he swallowed, “I…
like
you.”

Uh?
What? He likes me? My lungs went tight, like a softball just got
lodged in my chest. Surely this is some kind of cruel prank they
play on the new kids—well, another cruel prank, aside from the
throwing-you-to-the-wolves one in music class.

David laughed to himself then. “I’m sorry. That was very
forward of me. You don’t even know me yet, and I—”

“
Um,
David?” I stopped him. Oh, my God. What do I say? I’m alone here at
this school. No one knows me, there’s no best friend on the other
end of the line to give me boy advice, and no one to tell me I’m
crazy to think a guy like this could really be saying that. I
hugged my arms across my waist. “This is all a little bit weird for
me.”

“
I’m
sorry.” David scratched his upper lip with his thumb and cleared
his throat. “I get it.”

“
No,
you don’t get it—” I chased after him as he turned away.

“
No.
Really.” His smile radiated sincerity. “I really do. You don’t have
to explain.”

“
But—”

“
Come on, we’re late.” He took a step away, then turned back
to face me, pointing his thumb toward the stairs. “It’s uh—it’s
this way.”

Oh,
for God’s sake, what is wrong with me? I wish I could scream it
out—tell him exactly what I’m thinking. But I just don’t want to
seem creepy or desperate. And then there’s the fear that this might
be a nasty joke—that if I confess my feelings for this boy I don’t
know, everyone might jump out from behind the lockers and start
laughing at me.

“
Sorry, did you just say something?” David stopped walking and
turned back to face me.

“
I
uh—no.” I hope not. Was I thinking out loud?

The
door beside me burst open and an evil-villain-type-scary woman, who
probably kidnaps Dalmatians, popped her angry face out. “You two
all right there?”

“
Yes, Miss Hawkins, we were just going,” David said
slowly.

“
Well, make it quick, please, the
bell
has
gone.”
She slammed the door, leaving David and I alone
again.

A
silent discomfort separated us with an invisible line.

“
Lunch?” David said, shattering the glass-like
tension.

“
Lunch?”

“
Yeah. Can I…” he shuffled his feet and then looked back up,
“can I walk you to lunch after class?”

I
smiled, a simple smile. “Sure, why not.”

I’m
a coward. I’m a first class, moronically deranged coward. I dropped
my face into my hands, resting my elbows against the desk. How
could I just stand there with my giant gob open and let nothing
out? I should’ve told him. I should’ve said, “Thanks, David. I like
you, too.” What is wrong with me?

“
Everything all right, Ara?” Miss Swanson asked.

Oh,
right, paying attention in class is usually a good idea. “Um, sure,
all fine.” I forced a fake smile. Satisfied, the teacher turned
back to the board and, one by one, the students followed
suit.

Hiding under the illusion of privacy that secluding myself up
the back of the room created, I grabbed my notepad and scribbled
little circles for a while, then turned them into snakes and other
various works of notepad art.

Poor
David. He said he likes me and I said nothing. He must be so
humiliated. He must think I blew him off, and I guess, in a way, I
did. I’m just not ready to risk the horrible feeling of rejection
when he wakes up tomorrow and slaps himself as soon as he realises
he only liked me
today
because I’m new.

But
what if he was serious? What if he really does like me—like, truly
like me. That makes me a nasty cow for pulling the ‘this is all too
much for me’ card. Who am I kidding? I looked down at the picture
of a rose on my page and brushed the pen-tip over the falling
petals. I’m too messed up to have friendships. I’ve known David for
less than a day and already I’m making a fool out of myself, and
worse—hurting him. Perhaps it’s better if he
thinks
I don’t like him. Perhaps
it’s better if everyone thinks I don’t like them.

When
the lunch bell rang, I stayed in my chair. What am I going to tell
David when I see him? Gee, sorry I didn’t tell you before, David,
but I actually think I fell in love with you at first sight. Or, I
know myself well enough to know that there’s no way you’ll escape
my mind while I’m falling asleep tonight. I dropped my head into my
hands and scowled at the Bunsen burner—mocking me from its homely
little perch on the desk. Maybe I can stay in here for lunch—just
let David think I’ve gone home.