Our dreamy afternoon was followed by an intensely silent drive home, with me trying so hard not to burst into a snivelling, needy teenage girl, and when I walked through the front door, slammed it and readied myself to run upstairs and sob my heart out, Vicki called on me to help with dinner, forcing me to swallow my grief like a hard wedge of cheese.
“Ara?”
I looked up from my plate. “Hm?”
“How was practice this afternoon?” Dad asked.
“Practice?”
“With David? The reason you left class today.”
“Oh, um, good. I’m gonna perform a piece of music from a movie.”
“You mean going to, not gonna,” Dad added sternly.
I shrugged.
“And you have your friends coming over this weekend, don’t you? Emily and Alana?” Vicki asked, taking the salt from Dad.
I nodded.
“How’s your mythology paper coming along?” Dad asked.
“Good.” But it wasn’t good, though—I hadn’t even started it.
They all sat silently then, the feel of their stares burning into my face until Sam started laughing.
Dad looked at him with a raised brow. “Something funny, son?”
“Ara’s in love,” he teased.
I sat up straight, scowling at him. “I am not.”
“Yes, you are. You wanna marry David.” He laughed, poking his fingers in the air at me.
My cheeks went really hot. Dad looked at Vicki and a smile crept up under her lips. “I think you’re right, Sam.” She pointed to my face. “I’ve seen that look before.”
Okay, Dad, time to step in—stand up for your only daughter. But Dad broke into laughter, too.
Traitor.
“I’m sorry, honey.” He wiped his napkin across his mouth. “But I think your brother may be right.”
“I wondered why you were suddenly so eager to go to school.” Vicki covered her smile with her hand.
“Well, I guess we’d better have young David over for dinner—discuss the dowry,” Dad joked.
“Dad?” I whined, hiding my face in my hands.
“So, he’s taking you to the Fall Masquerade, then?” Dad asked.
I looked up. “The what?”
“Oh, yeah.” Vicki heaped a spoonful of potato salad onto her plate. “Ara’s never been to a masquerade, has she?”
Dad’s eyes lit up. “No, she hasn’t. Well, this’ll be exciting then.”
“Wait, what’s the Fall Masquerade?” I asked, confused.
“Every year, during fall, the town holds a masquerade for seniors—like a school ball, but for the whole town,” Sam said. “You have to wear a mask and a giant dress—totally lame.”
“And you know what that means?” Vicki squeaked. “We get to go shopping.”
“Well, David hasn’t asked me yet.” And likely wouldn’t be here. “When is it?”
“They’ll put posters up soon. It’s usually held in early autumn,” Dad added.
I smiled, thinking about the last ball I went to, which wasn't really a ball at all; it was an end of year formal, and my ‘date’ was my best friend, whom my mum actually had to pay to take me, because he thought wearing a penguin suit was an indication that you wanted to mate with an arctic bird. And since he didn’t want to mate with me, he’d told my mum, it was going to cost her. We had fun, though, Mike and I, but the formal was no masquerade.
Then, almost as if Dad read my mind, he asked, “When’s Mike coming?”
“Oh, um, his interview is next Monday, so he’ll be here on the Tuesday some time.”
“How does David feel about that?” Vicki asked in an evocative, feather-ruffling tone.
My shoulders dropped. “David? Why would he care about my best friend coming to stay?”
Vicki’s expression suggested the obvious; she didn’t even have to speak.
My lip curled. “David doesn’t see it like that. He knows Mike’s my friend.”
“Well, we’ll just see, won’t we?” She rolled her head to the side. “Ara, sometimes a girl as young as you can misinterpret things, see them as more innocent than they really are. Mike’s a fully-grown man—” She placed the salad back on the table, “—maybe he feels differently about you than you do about him.”
Dad just sat there, saying nothing. My mouth hung open a little; I couldn’t believe he didn’t correct her. Betrayal. Again.
I threw my napkin down and stood up. “Mike and I are friends. That’s all it’s ever been!”
“Ara, sit back down. Vicki knows that,” Dad said.
“No, Dad! I’m tired of it. Just because Mike’s a boy and I’m a girl?” I pointed to my chest. “Don’t you guys get it? Don’t you understand what David means to me?”
“Honey, you’ve known him for a week,” Dad reminded me.
“Yeah, and that was enough to make me fall in love with him,” I retorted. “But seventeen years didn’t work for Mike? So what’s gonna change now?”
“She’s got a point.” Sam shrugged.
I looked at Dad and he looked at Vicki. “Ara, you’re so young. This thing with David—it’s just an infatuation. You can’t know what love is yet,” she said.
“How can you say that?” I leaned forward slightly. “You don’t know what I feel. None of you do.”
“Honey, you can’t feel that kind of love at your age.”
“How would you know? I’m sorry, are you the all experienced love gurus because you’ve both had a failed marriage?” I waved my hands around at the word gurus, then dropped them to my hips. “So, just because I’m under eighteen, means I don’t know how to feel?”
“We’re just saying that love is complicated,” Dad said and held his hand up to Vicki, quietening her. “It takes a long time to figure it—”
“Don’t tell me I don’t know my own heart. ’Cause I can tell you, I do—and it hurts.” My voice broke under the strain of tears. “It hurts all the time, Dad. It hurts for Mum and Harry and Mike. And I loved them. And I love you—” the tears burst past the strain, “—so, you can’t tell me I don’t know what love is, because I think, of all the people in this room, I’m the most qualified to say what my heart is capable of.”