Page 43 of With This Mask
"I…” I shake my head. “I can’t believe someone approached specifically about me.” This could be my ticket to a better life – the one I've been working so damn hard for.
"Absolutely." She hands me the application. "You should fill this out right away. Best not to keep this level of people waiting."
Greedily, I drag the papers toward me and grab a pen. I eagerly complete each section, feeling the weight of my future pressing down on me in the very best way.
But I freeze when I get to a question in the middle of the application.
Please describe your social media presence.
It’s followed by a statement explaining how employee’s online activities could affect the company.
Fuck. I glance at Mrs. Thompson, unsure of what to do.
"Um, I'll have to bring this back later when I can finish it," I tell her, trying to sound casual. “I just realized I only have ten minutes until my next class.”
"Of course," she replies, oblivious to my internal struggle. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
The rest of the day drags by, my mind constantly returning to the application and the consequences of my online presence. Do I even really have an online presence? Sure, I post on Insta once every few months, nothing controversial or big. I even have a FB profile, not that I use it. But does my new video account count? It’s not under my name. I haven’t even posted a single video.
Yet I am on Alec’s account, and our video now has over three million views, all racked up over the past three days since we posted it.
Fuck.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
At lunchtime, I head to the courtyard since the weather is nice and join my friends at our usual spot. They're deep in conversation, but my step falters when I spot Alec across the space, laughing and talking with his friends, the same rich pricks who make non-stop comments to the scholarship kids.
"Can you believe he still hangs out with those assholes?" I mutter under my breath.
"Who?" Jess asks, following my gaze. "Alec? Maybe you shouldn't judge him based on his friends."
"Right," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Because he's such a fucking saint."
But as much as I want to deny it, Jess has a point. Once upon a time, I thought Alec was just like them – another entitled rich kid with no redeeming qualities. Now he means the world to me, and it's hard to reconcile that with the person I once believed him to be.
"Maybe people can change," Jess suggests, her voice gentle. "Or maybe they're just better at hiding who they really are."
"Maybe," I admit reluctantly. And for now, that will have to be enough.
Despite being January, the weather is nice. The sun pours down on the courtyard, casting a warm golden glow as I pick at my uneaten sandwich. The murmurs of students enjoying their lunch fill the air, punctuated by laughter and the occasional shriek of excitement. It's a picture-perfect day, and all I can think about is my class load.
Alec’s familiar voice draws my attention without drawing my eyes. He sounds annoyed.
“There’s only one semester left, Alec,” a female voice comes in, rising in volume slowly. “You know what’s going to happen after we graduate.”
“How do you still buy into this?” Alec says, and he at least seems like he’s trying to control his volume. Unlike Victoria. I realize now who it is. “Just cause the expectation is there doesn’t mean the reality is.”
Oh, I want to throw up.
I squeeze my eyes closed and force myself to breathe.
“Hey, Salem, you okay?” Jess asks.
I don’t get a chance to answer her though, because it instantly gets so much worse.
“Is this about that side piece you’ve been screwing?” she asks, her tone growing barbs. And everything in me goes cold.
“What are you talking about?”