The Secrets of Cedar Creek

17 : Destroying You, Rose

After waiting half an hour, my restlessness begs me to find him. I walk outside to the gardens, where I first met him. The flowers are still dead and gross with brittle leaves and rotting flesh.

There he is, sitting on the cream tiles, right at the edge. I walk over to him and sit down beside him, dangling my legs off the ledge. I look down at the grass and the rest of the property, where there seems to be a maze of gardens and pools.

I turn to face him. He props his elbow on his knee, taking a long drag from the cigarette, looking at the property. I watch the cogs turn in his mind. He watches the landscape like he's knee deep in his own dark clouds. And suddenly, I see that there's a mystery behind this man – probably enough to make a movie about. A mystery that I want to uncover and explore. To expose.

I inhale, taking a deep breath of the smoke. I watch his fingertips, the way he holds the cigarette between them, the way his lips curl over it, in his own mesmerising way.

"I picked you, Rose, because I read your piece." He takes another long sip through the cancer stick. "The short story. Two years ago."

It falls into place. Finish. My tenth grade English assignment. It was just a messy internal monologue – something more of a metaphor than a real story.

"I read it and I thought it was amazing, I thought that you had so much potential. I thought you were a diamond amongst rubble."

Past tense. I haven't lived up to the expectation.

"Your teacher submitted it for a competition. I was one of the judges. You didn't win because they all thought it was too dark – they didn't want to encourage the behaviour. Another girl from your school won – even though her story didn't have the same... feeling and passion and truth."

Paige.

"I kept a copy of your story, and I read it over and over. And I hoped that one day I would meet you." He sighs, finishing the cigarette and stubbing it out. "When I came to Cedar Creek and saw your name on your principals list – I knew you were the one."

"So what's changed your mind?" I say, waiting for the punch.

"Rose, I want you," he finally looks at me, with his piercing stare, "I want you. Not anyone else. I need you for this movie. I need your words, I need your inspiration and I need your opinion. I don't want anyone else. But if you don't want this, if you're not going to help me like I need you to, then tell me before I waste anymore time. Tell me and I will go."

The threat of him leaving stabs me and I wince. Why do I care if he leaves? He's come here just to complicate everything. I have enough on my plate – with Sylv and uncovering Paige's murder and school and my family and.... It's all too much. So why do I care if he's offering to make it all easier for me? Why do I care about being abandoned by him?

"Don't go," I whisper. "I just lost my best friend and my heart aches for people who've lost someone."

"I'm going to tell you something, Rose, something you can never repeat."

"Yes?"

He adjusts positions, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. "I was sixteen when I got my first taste of murder."

"You act like it's a common occurrence."

"It was in my part of the neighbourhood."

I purse my lips, thinking back to Adrian as a child, as helpless and small and fragile.

"My parents disappeared. I didn't know where they went." He sighs, biting his bottom lip. "I lost them to an impatient drug dealer after they lost his money."

"Adrian, I'm sorry-"

"And I wrote a script. A damn good script. So good, that it got picked up, put on a movie screen and enough recognition to last me a lifetime. But I told no one that it was true."

He grips the ledge and I shift my hand to rest on his. The only way I can think of comforting him.

"So now, I find true stories that capture me and I make them into something bigger. I got justice for my parents. And now it's like an addiction."

"And you want my help?"

"I recognised the same passion in your work, Rose. In that story. I knew it was true."

I flinch. Another one of my secrets. A secret that I regret and am ashamed of and pretend it never happened. He was the only person that knew, and he took advantage of me.

Adrian turns his hand, taking mine in his. "May I?"

"No," I rip my hand away and stand up. "I'll help you with this project, Iris, but that's it. I'm not your friend. I don't trust you. And I most certainly am not divulging my life story to you. Secrets come with a cost, Iris."

"Seems to me that your secrets are destroying you, Rose."

"You're one to talk about secrets, hypocrite."

Iris stands up. He shakes his head, "Rose, you are the definition of a hypocrite."

"You barely even know me."

"Then show me!" he says, frustrated. "Goddamn it, Rose. I'm not asking you to assemble a rocket, I just want you to give this a chance."

"And I said I will. You drive me insane."

"Good," he huffs. He rolls his eyes, taking out his packet of cigarettes. God, I could kill for one right now. This whole discussion has drained me.

He lights it and then looks over at me. I must look like a thirsty vampire eyeing an exposed neck. He offers the box to me, with raised eyebrows.

"Want one?"

I grit my teeth. "No," I force out.

"Suit yourself," he brings the cigarette to his lips.

I watch him hungrily and wait. Desperate for a distraction, I finally ask, "so what's next? What's the next step of uncovering "the truth" or as you call it?"

"First step of solving a crime is always the same."

"Elaborate."

"Investigate the crime scene," he says, "we don't know where they were murdered, but the nanny claimed to have been the last person to see them. She tucked them into bed that night, right here."

"F*ck. They could've been murdered right here, in this house." I wince and take a deep breath. Two young girls. Innocent. Helpless.

"Well then, let's explore."

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Thanks for reading!

Aurora