The street below was desolate and quiet, no sign of David having been or gone. The dawn sky looked cold and grey, like the world was readying itself for rain, and all the streets were empty, the lights still on along the footpath, while a soft red glow outlined the mountains to the east.
I looked over at Mike, sleeping peacefully, and drew in the sweet pear scent of the rose once more. Then, as I went to press the Home button on my iPod, noticed a new playlist there, titled “Ara”. It only had one song, so I stuffed my earphones in and pressed play; I could move forward tomorrow. Today, I just wanted to be closer to David by thinking about him—pain or none.
A delicate piano told a sad story, making my heart ache in the first bar. I pushed open my window, leaning on the frame as the words began; I’d never heard this song before. I knew David liked John Mayer, but he’d never even said which song was his favourite. I wondered why he put this one on my iPod and no other song. And then I listened more carefully to the words, relating instantly to the feeling; falling asleep thinking about the one you love—your heart so broken because they’re gone. You dream, for a moment, that they’re right beside you—that everything in the world is finally all right. But the warmth of their hand, the clear memory of their smile dissipates suddenly, destroyed by waking. It almost makes you want to sleep for the rest of your life so you can be together.
I checked the title of the song again, smiling. Appropriate. “Dreaming With A Broken Heart.”
Tiny bumps of chill dotted my belly with the kiss of a cool breeze, and the sun touched the earth just over the horizon, warming everything around me; the treetops became pink and gold, and orange leaves floated softly down to the ground, like autumn snow.
I pinched three of the yellow petals from the stem of the rose and held them out over the lip of the window frame; one for my heart; one for my soul; one for eternity. They all belonged to David. Each and every bit of me would always be his—no matter what my dreams may tell me.
When the wind swept past my window again, I flicked the petals into the day; they floated up into the air, making circles on the breeze, following the autumn leaves to the old oak tree in the garden, finally resting, with one last kiss from the wind, right on the seat of the swing.
“I love you, David. Forever,” I whispered into the nothing, reluctantly shutting my window on the stormy wind. A tear rolled down my cheek as I looked up to the sky and saw one, single star sparkling out above the waking world, almost like it was David watching over me.
“Make a wish.” Strong arms wrapped my waist from behind.
“I don’t believe in wishes anymore, Mike.”
“Well, I’ll make one for you, then.” He squeezed me tighter, then crossed his heart.
“What did you wish?” I asked.
“Can’t tell you. It won’t come true.” He pressed his hands to my waist and turned me around, slowly plucking my earphones from my ears. “Why are you crying, baby girl?”
I sniffed back the runny liquid in my nose. “So much has happened. Everything’s changing for me now, Mike. Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing control of it all—like it just goes too fast.”
“It does go fast, princess,” he said; I looked down. “But, that’s why you’ve got to make the most of every day. To love whole-heartedly—” he kissed my forehead, “—to laugh at stupid jokes—” he kissed my nose, “—and to find the good in every moment; happy or sad or difficult.” He pulled back for a second as he moved in to kiss my lips and added one more thing, “And I’m going to be here to do it all with you. For the rest of our lives.”
I closed my eyes, nodding. “I love you, Mike.”
My phone forced me to get up off my back, leave my comfy pillow behind and wander across to my desk. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ara.”
“Hi, Em. What’s up?”
“Um. I need you to do me a favour.”
“Sure. Anything,” I said, peeling the curtain back with my fingertip, looking down over the evening.
“I…I kind of need you to tell Spencer I can’t go to the ball.”
“What!” I screeched. “Why can’t you go—and why can’t you tell Spence yourself?”
“He…well…I was kind of going to get you to tell him I have laryngitis.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to tell him I can’t go. I just…I think I might cry.”
“Em, I don’t get it. Why aren’t you going?”
“I haven’t got a dress, Ara.” She started crying. “And I don’t even have anything old in my wardrobe. My mom cleaned everything out a few months ago and donated it all to charity.”
“Oh, Em.”
“I only have this ugly red thing that I wore when I was twelve. And I can’t go to the ball in a dress that short, either. I’ll look like a hussy.”
“Ara?” Sam said, popping his head around the wall.
“Hang on, Em.” I looked over at Sam, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “What are you doing in my wardrobe?”
“Can I borrow your hair gel?”
I raised a brow at him. “Why?”
He stepped into my room, grinning. “I got a date tonight.”
“A date?” I smirked.
“Yeah. Can I use it or not?”
“Fine. But shut that bathroom door. I’m talking girl stuff.”
He walked off, starting up the hairdryer in the bathroom, but didn’t shut the door.
“Argh. Sorry, Em. Pest control.”
She laughed.
I walked into my wardrobe and glared at Sam through the bathroom mirror. “I told you to shut this door.”
He shrugged. “So shut it.”
“Argh!” I slammed it behind me and stormed out of my wardrobe, but a flash of blue fabric on the hook caught my eye, and as I thought back to the night David forced me to accept that dress, an epiphany hit me like a rock in the head. “Oh my God. Em!”
“Still here.”
“Come over. Right now. I have a dress for you.”
She didn’t even get to say anything. I hung up the phone and ran downstairs to wait for her, opening the door seven minutes later to a solemn-looking Emily.
“Hi,” she said.
I gave her a hug, and she smiled as she pulled away—but not at me.
“Hey, girls,” Mike said, sitting on the stairs behind me.