Page 2 of Masquerade Mistake

Okay, cute or not, the insinuation pissed me off. I knew my limits, and a couple sips off an awful drink wasn’t even close.

“I’m not drunk,” I snapped, pulling my arm from his grasp. I tried getting up again, but my shoe was still caught in my dress. Frustrated, I tore off my heels, ripping the tulle in the process. “Fuck!” Even in my anger, I realized it didn’t matter. The dress was ruined, and my mom probably wouldn’t miss it. She wouldn’t even know it was missing if I threw it away, just like she didn’t notice me. And Maren was no better. “I’ll be so glad to get out of this fucking hell hole,” I muttered.

“Hey, a place with free booze isn’t that bad,” the guy said, offering his hand again. This time I took it, flashing him a weary smile once I was back on my feet.

“Not the house,” I explained. “I’m talking about this town. These people. Everything. I feel like my whole life has been on hold, and I’ll be so glad to get the hell out of Sunset Bay and leave it all behind.”

As I brushed past him, my bare foot slid through that stupid drink, and I flailed my arms to keep my footing.

“Sober or not, let me help you,” he said, his hand gripping my arm before I could land on my ass. I sighed, letting him guide me to the front door even though I knew I could do it on my own. I took one last glance at the party behind me, and decided Maren was a big girl and could handle herself. After all, she abandoned me first.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked once we were outside. I shivered in the breeze, pulling my cloak closer to me. The fresh air felt good in my lungs. I breathed in deep, and even under the stench of my putrid drink-covered dress, I detected his soft scent. A hint of wind mixed with a healthy dose of sunshine and gusty dreams—at least that’s what came to mind as I inhaled, and what I mentally batted away as I nodded in reply to his question.

“I’m fine,” I said, looking down the street for my car. Then I groaned. Maren had been the one to drive, even though her car looked like she’d been living in it. I had no way of getting home without her.

I sat down heavily on the step, weighing my options. I could call a cab; except I had no money. I’d call my mom, but I was still mad at her for standing me up at graduation. Besides, if she didn’t answer my earlier reminder texts, what made me think she’d answer now?

“You don’t look fine,” he said, sitting beside me. I scooted over to make room, but I didn’t look at him. I could already feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I didn’t want him to see me cry. “Are you okay to drive?” he asked.

“For the millionth time, I’m not drunk. As you can see, I’m wearing my drink.” I figured if I could stay angry enough, I’d avoid crying in front of him. Wrong. I immediately burst into tears. “I don’t have a ride,” I finally blurted out. “I have no idea where I am, my friend ditched me, and I don’t know anyone. On top of everything, I graduated today and my mom…” I wiped my face, even as the tears kept coming. This was my life. No matter what I did or who I cared about, they would always let me down. My mom was a constant in that department. And Maren, she was a mess. But was it too much to hope someone would take the time to care about me? To see me?

“Never mind, It doesn’t matter.” I stared up at the sky, wishing I could see the stars beyond the bright streetlights. “In a few months, I’ll be out of here and won’t have to worry about any of this.”

He stood without speaking as I tried my hardest to pull myself together. I heard the door open, the sounds of the party invading the silence before he closed the door again, leaving me alone.

“That’s just great, Claire,” I muttered. “The only decent person at this party, and you scare him off.” I stood on shaky legs, my head throbbing from the lump. If I walked home, how long would it take before I recognized my surroundings? Could I even walk in these damn heels?

The door opened again, and the guy was back, this time holding another red plastic cup.

“It’s water,” he assured me, extending it toward me. I took it, my fingers brushing his, sending a current of warmth through my hand and up my arm as I exhaled.

“Thank you.” I lifted the cup to my lips, cooling myself with icy relief.

He sat next to me, his leg brushing mine. It wasn’t necessarily a move, but my body reacted just the same. I liked him touching me. I didn’t even know him, yet the mere presence of his leg shifting against mine was enough to make me wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

“Can I drive you home?” he asked.

I started to say no, but then I thought about my other options—of which there were none.

“I don’t even know your name,” I said.

“I’m –”

“Wait, don’t tell me,” I cut him off, laughing into my cup. “If you tell me, I’ll have something to remember from this day, and honestly, I just want to forget everything.”

“Fair enough,” he said, touching his mask. “I guess it kind of matches the whole masquerade thing, though I think we’re part of a small group that understands what a masquerade really is. Did you see the dinosaur?”

Thankfully his car was cleaner than Maren’s. It also smelled like him, a scent I found more intoxicating by the minute. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t escape the heady feeling it gave me as he navigated the turns of the neighborhood, eventually landing on a street I recognized. From there, I gave him directions to my house. But as we approached, I saw my mom’s car in the driveway, and a strange car next to that. We passed the house and I said nothing to slow him down, feeling the ball of dread grow in my belly. We reached the end of the street, and he idled at the stop sign.

“Right, or left?”

“I, uh, right,” I stammered. He turned right, and I realized my error immediately at the dead end. “I mean left.”

He parked the car, then turned to me. “You do have a house, right?” he asked. I fiddled with my dress, then brushed at the drink stain as if it would make a difference.

“We passed my house,” I admitted. He started to put the car in gear again, but I placed my hand on his arm. His skin was warm, and there was a tattoo of a palm with an eye in the center on the inside of his forearm. I was tempted to grip his arm like he gripped mine earlier. The magnetic pull between us was unlike anything I’d ever known, and I wondered if I was the only one experiencing it. He looked down at my hand, and I removed it. “I don’t want to go home yet,” I said. I noticed the question in his eyes, but I was afraid to let him ask it. “Can we just hang out for a while?”

He paused, seeming to mull over what I was requesting. I shook my head, offering a small laugh. “Sorry, I’m assuming you have nothing to do. You probably want to get back to the party.”