Tears of the Broken (38 page)

Vicki and Dad might’ve been right to keep such a careful eye
on me. But I was fine once David came into my life—but now he’s
leaving me, too. I can’t find even the slightest bit of joy today,
and I’m not sure I really do want to go on living. I mean, it’s not
like I want to die, but I don’t want to live this life anymore. I
just want the pain to stop.

From
under my pile of class literature, I slid out my diary and opened
it. Last night’s rain missed most of my books, thankfully, but the
corner of my diary got a bit wet—well, soggy is a better
word.

It
cracked as I opened it and turned to a blank page. The fading smell
of home lingered in its binding, slowly being washed away by the
ageing of its pages and the sticky, inky smell of a blue
biro.

So
many thoughts have been written down in here from times when
everything was okay—and not so okay. I fanned the edges of the
paper with my thumb and considered flipping back through it, but
thought better. Before I knew grief, my problems were so mediocre,
so unimportant. I don’t think I could stand to hear myself drone on
about my hopeless thoughts on boys or friends who wouldn’t talk to
me after a fight. Back then, I was so narrow-minded, so naïve and
ignorant to the world—I think it’d just make me wanna throw up—or
slap myself.

I
grabbed a pen from my drawer and leaned over the diary.

Dear
diary,

Before my parents railroaded me at dinner, I had just spent
my most amazing afternoon with David.

I
had my first kiss, and it was as sweet and romantic as a
fairy-tale. But all I can taste now is the sour sting of
loathing.

Why
did he do that? Why would he kiss me—steal my first kiss,
essentially, from the man who might’ve wanted to marry me one day.
I’ll never get that back—and it should belong to someone I’m going
to spend the rest of my life with—not someone who doesn’t even care
about me.

The
worst part is…I feel like he was just humouring me—giving me what I
wanted.

Nothing makes sense anymore. I mean, did he know all along
that he might leave, and still decided to make me fall in love with
him? Or maybe he planned to leave as soon as he thought things were
getting too intense?

Perhaps that’s not it, at all. Perhaps I’m just too tragic
for him—too much hassle.

I
tapped my pen on my lip, looking at my curtains. He didn’t know I
was the
cause
of
my mother’s death when he led me around on that first day of
school—my dad couldn’t have told him that, because
he
still doesn’t know
the truth.

But
David does. Maybe that’s all there is to it. Maybe he simply agreed
to look out for me, as a favour to my dad, but didn’t realise I was
a moody, selfish cow, and now he wants out. I guess, when I step
back and look at things from his perspective, I can’t blame him for
leaving me.

But
I don’t have to tolerate his odd behaviour, either. If he wants to
leave, if I’m too messed up for him, then he’ll just have to make
the separation start now—and no more lies! No more
nature-documentary-deadlines. I mean, “He’ll be gone by winter?”
What is he, a duck? Does he plan to fly south?

I
don’t need any more pain or secrets or lies in my life. I’m not
going to let him string me along like some puppet he gets to play
with until he’s ready to move on.

No
more kissing. No more being friends.

I
snapped my diary shut and stood up.

As
of now—it’s over!

With
a new sense of purpose, I grabbed my iPod and jammed it into the
dock. If I’m going to take a new approach to life, then I’m going
to need a montage. Time for my Beyoncé playlist and an outfit
that’s totally hot—totally not me.

I
sang along, making a huge mess as I pulled nearly everything out of
the neat little crevices in my wardrobe. I tossed my jeans, my red
singlet top and the only heeled shoes I own into the bathroom.
Then, in true montage style, flipped my hair, slammed the bathroom
door shut and emerged again as the new, sexy, I-don’t-take-no-crap
me—complete with red lip-gloss.

I
stopped by my dresser to dash on some mascara, and the soulless
face of my past stared back at me. I squared my shoulders and dug
deep within for that strength I had five minutes ago, then Mike’s
advice popped into my mind instead, “If you’re going to break up
with them, baby—make sure you look damn beautiful when you do it.”
I flipped my hair, grabbed my schoolbag and headed down the stairs.
When my stomach rolled with hunger, pleading for its usual rations,
I told it to shut up. That’s another part of the new me—no more
ogre.

The
front door slammed a little as I stepped out onto the porch. Okay,
so
that
didn’t
feel so good, but the new me wants it to. Vicki’s been waiting for
the evil teen—and boy is she gonna get it.

The
strawberry scent of my shampoo whipped across my face with a few
strands of my hair. I brushed them from my eyes and shook my head.
Humph! Some tough kid I’m turning out to be—all sugar and no
spice.

Well, I’ll just have to be a strawberry-scented bitc—well,
new me.

So,
great, I can’t even curse in my own head. This is so not
working.

But
it has to. I have to let him go. No more David Knight.

As
the music of the montage ended with an abrupt and sudden silence
inside my head, my resolve started to waver completely.

Keep
going, Ara-Rose.

But
even my determined steps slowed as I spotted the recipient of my
impending wrath, waiting for me across the road. The only thing
that looks normal about him right now is the fact that he’s
standing in the same place he always does, but the rest; his face,
the moon-shaped down-turn of his lips and the withdrawn, distracted
look in his eyes, forced my heart to sink.

What
is his problem?
He’s
the one leaving—why should
he
be sad?

He
looked up at me as he bent down to pick up his schoolbag, then
stood up, leaving the bag where it sat. His eyes almost bulged out
of his head and a wide smile spread across his lips—washing away
the sad look.

It’s
childish, I know, but I tilted my nose in the air, just a
little.

“
Ara? My God, you look amazing,” he almost gasped the words
out, extending his hand toward me when I stepped up on the grass. I
shrugged away from his touch and looked down at my feet; I don’t
want to see the hurt in his eyes when I do this.

The
heels of my pretty black shoes—so out of place on the thick turf of
the oval—sunk into the ground. I rolled onto my toes a little to
stop from flipping backward.

“
Ara, are you okay?” David asked, making me
want to fall into his arms and scream
no
!

I
braced myself and looked up at him. “David. I can’t be friends with
you anymore.”

“
Friends?” His eyes narrowed in obvious confusion. “Ara, I
thought we were more than—”

“
I’m
sorry, David, it’s better this way.” The words felt like shards of
glass in my throat. “Look, yesterday was great and all, but we both
know where this is going. I don’t see the point in dragging it
out.”

“
Dragging it out?” His chin jutted forward a little.
“But—”

“
You heard me.” My fists clenched—forcing me
to be strong. “You had no right to do that to me—to kiss me like
that. The only thing it’s achieved is to make me feel more
miserable, and I’m
tired
. I can’t take any more
pain.”

He
stood taller and dropped his hand to his side. “I’m sorry. If I’d
known my kissing you would cause you pain, I’d never
have—”

“
It
doesn’t matter.” I shook my head, standing taller. “As of now, it’s
over—don’t wait for me here anymore and don’t walk me to
class.”

“
Are
you serious?”

“
Do
I look serious?” I added rhetorically, and despite the strength of
the invisible strings tying my heart—trying to make me move toward
David—I forced myself to turn away.

“
Ara, are you breaking up with me?” he asked,
incredulous.

“
Yes!”

“
What? But…you said you loved me,” he called in a strained
voice as I walked away. “Doesn’t that mean anything to
you?”

“
How dare you!” I turned back and stomped up
to him. “
You
are
the one who’s leaving?
You
did this, David. Don’t you dare try to pin this
on me,” I yelled, pointing my finger toward his
chest.

“
I—I’m not, it’s just…” he searched for the words in every
angle of my face. “I love you. I—please, don’t do this.”

“
Why? Why should I stay with you? You said it yourself…you’re.
Not. Staying.” I leaned forward, delivering my words coldly. “And
guess what, David? Neither am I.”

“
Ara, no! Wait!” He grabbed my arm and
released it instantly when I glared at him coldly. “Don’t give up
on us. Please?” He shook his head; I huffed and turned away.
“Please, girl. Don’t you get it? I want to be with you until
they
drag
me
away.”

“
That’s the problem,” I called over my shoulder. “You still
have to go away. Where does that leave me?”

“
Loved eternally from afar,” he called out softly.

“
Not
good enough,” I yelled louder as I made it closer to the school.
“Do me a favour, don’t talk to me anymore.”

“
Do
you really mean that, Ara?” His voice travelled across the distance
effortlessly, carrying the entire weight of his
confusion.

God
no. I stopped walking.

“
Ara?” David said from right behind me; I didn’t realise he
was following me all this time. “If you mean that…I’ll go. I’ll
leave now. But if you don’t, you have to tell me,
please?”

I
stopped letting the anger control my words for a second, then spun
around to meet his emerald green gaze—and my resolve slipped
completely.

How
can I walk away from someone I love so much?

My
teeth clenched under my tightly closed lips. This is for the best,
remember. “I just don’t get it,” I said. “Why? Why should we stay
together when we know how this ends?”

“
Why
should we let that fact take away our last few months
together?”

“
Because I’ll fall more in love with you.” I
shook my head, forcing back tears. “If I keep doing this it’ll only
make me break down when you’re gone—and I won’t get back up this
time, David. I’ve got
nothing
left in me. It’s easier for me to let go of you
now.” When the tears broke the barrier of my restraint, I turned
away and headed for the school.

“
Fight, Ara! If you really love me, you should fight until the
end,” he said, sounding defeated.

“
Maybe I’m tired of fighting.” I stopped walking, but didn’t
turn around. “Maybe I just need to trust that the people I love
will be with me. Forever.”

“
Ara. Please, look at me?” he asked smoothly, his voice
dropping on the end.

My
arms folded across my chest and I shook my lowered head. I can’t
look at him. If I see him there, alone, pleading with me—I’ll break
down and I’ll give in.

“
Ara. Please?
Please
, sweet girl—” his voice came
from right behind me again and his fingers tapered over my
shoulders, “don’t do this.”

Don’t do this? How dare he? I’m not the one…As I spun around
to yell at him, his anguish-laden eyes stole my words, leaving my
mouth gaping like an empty, mute vortex.

David took a breath. “I—I will be with you, forever. I have
to leave, yes, but I will
always
love you—always be with you. In here.” He held
his hand over his heart. “Don’t you know that?”

“
It’s just not enough, David.” I shook my head, and the
invisible string of electricity that pulled my heart toward him
stretched out as I backed away—using all of my strength.

“
You
don’t want to do this now, Ara,” he warned. “I could still be here
for another few months.” He walked toward me, very slowly. “Don’t
you want to savour every last minute together? Because I know I
do.”

“
No.” I masked my pain with a stiff jaw and narrowed glare.
“It’s better this way. Maybe not for you, but I have to look out
for me. I’m the only one who will.”

“
Please, Ara—I’m begging you. You are
everything
to me. More
than just a friend.” He stopped with his arms down by his sides,
his backpack a few feet behind him on the grass, and his head
tilted slightly to one side. “I want to be with you—forever. I know
I can’t have that, though, so I need these last few months. Please?
You can’t walk away now.”