“Me too.”
“And I’m sure, when you see Mike in a few weeks, you’ll fall back into step with each other right away.”
“Yeah, probably.” I shrugged, then curiosity itched. “So? What about your family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I have a brother. A twin.”
“Really? Wow.” I sat up next to David’s hips, crossing my legs under me. This was way too interesting for a lie-down conversation. “Are you identical?”
“Yes. We look the same, but we’re very different.”
“Well, I gathered that. Why doesn’t he go to school with us?”
“He chose a different path—stayed with my uncle, in New York.”
“So, who do you live with, then? Are your parents still together?”
“My mother passed away when I was a baby, and my father followed not long after.”
“Oh, David.” I covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He rested his arm behind his head.
“So, you grew up with your uncle?”
“Well, I was raised by my aunt, and when she passed away, my uncle took my brother and I into his care.”
“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d suffered a lot of grief. I feel bad, like I’m making a big deal out of my problems, but you—”
“Don’t say that.” He pushed himself up on his elbow and took my hand. “You have every right to ‘make a big deal,’ Ara. You just lost your mom. My grief, my loss, it all happened a very long time ago.”
“Can’t be that long ago. You’re only a teenager.” I frowned, half laughing at the way he brushed off his own grief—just like me.
He smiled and looked down at our hands, then took a deep breath. “I’m older than I look. The things I’ve been through in life have made me older—given me wisdom beyond my years.” He laid back and said through a breathy smile, “Sometimes I feel like I’m over a hundred years old.”
“Sometimes you sound it, too.”
“I know.”
“So, do you see your uncle much, I mean, since you moved away?”
“Every other week or so. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“We’re members of a council. We have a few things to discuss.”
“What kind of council?”
He cleared his throat. “A charity organisation.”
“Oh. What charity?”
He grinned. “Blood donation.”
Hm. “Then, I must confess.” I showed him my arm. “I’ve never donated.”
He laughed out loud. “Something we shall have to remedy.”
“No way. No one sticks needles in me.”
“I could rent a vampire for the day—he could draw it from you.”
I rolled my eyes. “So, what about your brother? Do you see him much?”
“Jason?” David’s cheek flinched. “Not so much. We’ve kind of grown apart.”
“Why?”
“He uh—” He eyed Vicki as she passed my bedroom door, pretending not to look in on us, “—he and I had a falling out a while back. Things are…neutral, now.”
“Neutral?”
“Mm,” he muttered and sat up. “I’m just waiting for him to find out about you.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he said in short. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“I don’t like that answer, David.”
Vicki passed my room, again, and David pulled my hand, making me sit beside him. “How ‘bout we get out of here for the day, go to the lake?”
A smile spread across my lips—a real smile. “Sounds great.”
“Okay. Do you have a picnic basket?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said, standing up beside him.
“Go get it.” He leaned in and pecked my cheek. “I’ll run to the store and get some supplies.”
Chapter Ten
Drawing a deep lungful of the woodsy leather smell, I smiled. Dad’s car smelled nothing like this, and though the upholstery of David’s car was sticky and uncomfortable under my legs in the summer heat, it seemed to retain the aged scent of experience—a bit like riding in the car with my grandpa, which made it emotionally comforting—kind of…safe.
Heavy weekend traffic made the trip out to the lake take longer. David, only half paying attention to the road, watched me sort through the CDs in his glove compartment. Most of the music would belong better in my dad’s collection, but a tickle of elation perked me up at the sight of familiar cover-art. “I’ve actually heard of these guys.” I held up the disk. “I know a few of their songs.”
David smiled. “I have that album on my phone. I’ll bring it with us when we get to the lake—play it to you.”
“Okay. Do…do you like them? I mean, I know you have a CD, but, like, what’s your favourite one of their songs?”
His chest puffed out with a deep breath as he looked at the CD. I held it up so he could see the back. “Off that album…Overcome.”
I nodded, scanning the song titles. “Why that one?”
“I like the piano.”
“Oh.” I considered the cover, then left it in my lap.
“We have more in common, musically, than just that one album, Ara,” he said, clearly having sensed my gloom.
“I hope so.”
“You’ll see. Don’t worry—it’s as important to me as it is to you.”
“Okay.” I looked out the window for a second. “What’s your favourite song at the moment?”
“Ooh—” He drew a tight breath through his teeth. “Hard to say. I go through phases. I uh—right now, I’m actually really enjoying Moonlight Sonata.”
“I like that one, too.” I smiled, sitting back. “Maybe you can play it for me—on the piano at school on Monday.”
“Ara.” He placed his hand firmly on my leg. “I would love to.”
“Great.” I loved watching him play; it was almost as if he never even had to think about where his fingers were going. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him hit a bum note, and just the thought of watching him play again filled me up with…well, happiness, I guess. “Hey, can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” He tore his eyes away from the road and they locked to mine for a breathless second.