Masked Truth: Harrington Hills Academy: Book One

by Mae Reese

  I’m just about done with my notes when I hear a soft voice behind me “Excuse me” she says. I turn around and see the tiniest little girl I think I have ever seen. Her raven hair is pulled back into a pony tail which is a stark contrast to her pale skin. She looks like a miniature version of snow white with big green eyes and dark pink lips.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I ask, looking her over. She chews her bottom lip nervously, glancing out to the football field before speaking again.

  “I was wondering if you all were needing anymore cheerleaders this year? I know tryouts are usually late in the summer but I just transferred in and I used to be on the squad when I was at Westerberry and I was really good. I was a flyer and I really enjoyed myself, I don’t cause trouble and I am a good team player…” she trails off, her eyes getting big as if she just realized she was rambling nervously.

  I let out a soft chuckle “Yeah, we are actually holding tryouts again next week. What’s your name?” I ask her.

  She smiles brightly and it instantly makes me smile back “Breanne” she replies.

  “I’m Skylar, it’s nice to meet you. I will put sign-up sheets up on the board by the office tomorrow morning so if you just put your name on there we will definitely take a look at you” I tell her, handing her the liability form that all team sports require before you’re even allowed to tryout and the medical packet that the doctor must complete for an athletic physical. “I would usually have these by the sign-up sheet but if you want to go ahead and take one and have your parents sign it and all that…”

  She nods enthusiastically as she takes the forms from me.

  “What grade are you in?” I inquire, she has to at least be a freshman but I couldn’t imagine her much older than that with her petite frame.

  “I’m a senior” she says, not looking up at me and reading over the form in her hand.

  “Oh!” I exclaim, a bit shocked. Damn she’s little…

  My tone surprises her and she looks up at me “What is it?” She asks nervously.

  “Nothing… you’re just so…” I trail off, my mouth opening and closing with failing words.

  “Little, yeah I know. My brother Barron stole all the tall genes” she laughs as though she’s heard that a million times in her life.

  I nod, feeling better that I had not inadvertently offended her.

  “So I guess we will see you at tryouts?” I ask. She nods her head at me and graces me with another one of her beaming smiles before running back towards the school.

  All of the other girls start returning from their laps and I pull each girl aside and give them a few tips before I send them to the locker rooms to change for the day.

  “Not too shabby” Maisie says, chugging down her sports drink. I nod, agreeing with her assessment of the new girls.

  “The news of having Westberry girls join the squad went better than I expected” I admit to her.

  “Apparently our girls are more mature than the guys” she replies, rolling her eyes.

  We pack up our stuff and make our way into the locker room behind the other girls. I glance over my shoulder one more time at the football field and see the boys filing off of it towards their respective locker room.

  After showering and changing Maisie and I head out towards the parking lot. We were the last two girls in there and most of them had already left so the parking lot was thinning out quickly as it looked as though a lot of the boys left too.

  “Hey baby, want to go over to the diner and grab some food?” Weston asks as we approached. He is leaning back against his Range with Samuel and Brock doing the same, obviously waiting for us.

  “Yeah we can” I answer, opening the back hatch to his car and shoving my gym bag in next to his. Closing the hatch I head back to the passenger side, Wes nods and climbs in the front seat, Samuel climbing into the passenger seat.

  Guess my ass is sitting in the back, thanks dickhead.

  Chapter 6

  Skylar

  The diner is normally pretty crowded every night. The football players and cheerleaders usually end up there after practice along with various other groups of teenagers. It’s pretty rare to see adults in here for dinner. Besides, most of the elites of Harrington Hills wouldn’t be caught dead eating dinner at a place that has French fries on the menu.

  We grab a circular booth in the corner of the room next to a few tables already full of students from HHA. The waitress comes and takes our orders and returns a few minutes later with our drinks.

  “Can you believe coach is lettings those assholes join the team? He isn’t even making them tryout” Brock says, throwing his arm across the back of the booth and around Maisie's shoulder. She smiles up at him before taking a sip of her coke.

  “Seriously, who cares if he has ‘seen them play and they’re good’” Samuel says, lowering his voice to sound like Coach.

  “Maybe he is just doing it to save face and he will keep them on the bench this year” Brock replies.

  I look over and notice Weston is unusually quiet considering bitching about the new kids seemed to be his favorite past time today. I elbow him softly as to not draw attention from the others at the table. “What’s up with you” I ask softly once he turns his head my way.

  “Nothing” he clips out, but I can see the anger stirring in his eyes. I reach under the table and place my hand on his thigh, trying to give him a reassuring touch to help change his mood.

  A foul mood from him is usually bad news for me later in the evening when it’s time to tell him I am not sleeping with him, giving him my usual ‘I'm waiting until marriage’ speech. If he’s in a good mood, a BJ will pacify him but if he’s already in a bad mood and I turn down sex… an angry rant usually ensues. I am not in the mood for an angry rant tonight.

  I cautiously rub up and down his leg as I listen to the others at the table talking about their classes. Apparently Mr. Franklins pop quiz was received about as well in all the other class periods as it was in ours.

  The bell to the door chimes and loud laughter comes from the group that just walked in. I can feel Wes’ thigh tense under my hand and I already know who has just walked in.

  “Hey guys, good practice today” the blonde says as he walks by our table, winking at the boys.

  “Shut the fuck up, Sebastian and go sit down” Samuel replies, shaking his head and glaring at the boy.

  Sebastian just laughs, following Tucker and the other boys to a booth off to the side. A few of the girls from the cheer squad turn in their booth and start talking to the guys, completely oblivious to the rivalry already brewing between the current team and the newbies. I can feel the tension still in Weston’s thigh as he silently broods about whatever has him in a foul mood.

  “Fuck this, I can’t even stand to be in the same room as them. I’m out” Weston says, looking at me. I pull myself out of the booth and stand so he can get out. He pulls himself out, throwing a twenty on the table to cover his food and storms out of the diner without so much as another word to any of us.

  I look to Brock who just shrugs and turn, following Wes out into the parking lot. I head towards the space where he parked to see him already pulling off and leaving.

  That motherfucker just left me here….

  “Hey Debra…” I turn to find Tucker standing behind me, an amused smirk on his face.

  “Try again Tucker” I say distractedly, glancing back at Wes’ taillights and trying to tune out the sheer annoyance and anger pumping in my veins.

  “Well, considering you keep calling me Tucker, I figured I could call you whatever name I damn well pleased. You know, since you won’t just tell me yours and all” he cocks his head to the side, a small smirk playing on his lips.

  “Your name isn’t Tucker?” I ask, my look of annoyance turning into one of confusion.

  “Yes, and no, my name is Barron Tucker. Most of my friends don’t call me Tucker, they call me Barron or B” he replies. “And since I’ve told you my name…” he trails off,
raising his eyebrows expectantly.

  “Skylar” I answer his unasked question.

  “Skylar” he says letting it roll off his tongue.

  Damn that sounds good coming out of his mouth.

  “You’re definitely more of a Skylar than a Martha” he says. I chuckle and nod in agreement with him.

  “So was he your ride home?” Barron asks, nodding to the direction Weston drove off in.

  “Yep” I huff out “and he has my purse, and my phone, and all my money…” I grumble.

  “Do you need a ride?” He offers, looking back at the diner before returning his gaze to mine. There’s something different about the way he’s looking at me now. Before it was intrigue, and possible a little bit of lust mixed in. I can’t quite put my finger on what those hunter green eyes are hiding at this moment.

  I think about it a moment. I can’t call anyone to come get me and Brocks jeep doesn’t have back seats in it, so really Samuel and I are both without a ride.

  “Yeah if you don’t mind” I answer, biting my bottom lip. I know taking a ride from Barron isn’t the best choice and I also know that Weston will shit a brick when he finds out, but the asshole really left me no options when he hauled ass with my purse and everything else I would need. I can’t even get a damn Uber.

  Barron nods his head and starts walking towards the back of the lot. He takes out his phone and sends someone a text before stopping beside a dark red 67’ Chevy pickup. I cock my brow and point. “Yours?” I ask.

  He nods, reaching around me to open the door.

  “Sure is, and you better not judge Betsy” he furrows his eyebrow, waiting for my response.

  “I would never, this truck is pretty cool” I say, climbing in.

  He shuts the door behind me and takes off around the back of the truck, climbing into the front seat.

  “My Grandpa used to collect classic cars, he had a truck just like this except it was a ’68 and two tone. Dark green and ivory. I actually learned how to drive stick shift on that truck” I reminisce, sliding my hand over the door panel.

  When Barron doesn’t respond I turn my head to see him staring.

  “What?” I ask, thinking I said something weird or wrong.

  “Nothing” he shakes himself out of whatever daze he was in and cranks the truck up before putting it in reverse and backing out of the spot.

  We’re about to pull out when I see Maisie walking towards the truck, her arms crossed over her chest and a cocked eyebrow gracing her beautiful face. I manually crank the window down of the old classic and lean out.

  “That dumbass left me here, and took all my shit with him” I groan, setting my chin on my arm and looking at her. I can see her chest shake with her soft chuckle. “You mind taking care of my bill since I don’t have my wallet? I will pay you back tomorrow” I ask. She nods her head at me, looking over my shoulder at Barron in the driver’s seat.

  “You know this is going to go over badly right?” she waggles her finger between Barron and me, as blunt as always. “Wes will go all possessive caveman when he finds out.”

  “If he finds out” I correct her. She nods her head in understanding and backs away from the truck.

  “You know I won’t say a word” she smirks, dropping her hands to her side.

  Barron starts to pull away before I hear Maisie speak again, loud enough for us both to hear “Stay away from lockers” she laughs loudly. I flip her off out the window, watching her in the side mirror as she does the same before heading back into the diner.

  “Lockers?” Barron asks as we pull out onto the road.

  “Don't ask” I say, shaking my head and rolling the window back up.

  I give him my address and he puts it in his phone, setting it on the dash before leaning over and fiddling with the heater knobs on the trucks panel. Everything looks original, or at least a good original replica. There are no modified electronic gauges or anything of the sort.

  “So, how was your first day at HHA?” I ask, trying to break up the silence in the cab of the pickup.

  “You mean aside from your boyfriend and his goons threatening us every chance they got and trying to kick my ass in the locker room after practice?” He asks, his tone more playful than bitter.

  “Yes, aside from that” I laugh “Wait why did he try and kick your ass in the locker room?”

  He rolls his eyes before answering “Coach told us that he isn’t going to choose a starting quarterback right now. That Weston and I have to show him, over the next few weeks of practice, what we got and he will make a decision closer to the first game. Apparently Weston didn’t like that idea” he replies.

  Well, that explains the shitty mood.

  “I guess that makes sense. Coach isn’t really a pushover. He knows his job is to win football games and if he feels that you’re a better starting quarterback than Weston…” I trail off, suddenly feeling a little like I'm betraying my boyfriend, my mask slipping just a little which seems to happen all too often around Barron Tucker.

  Barron doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting the old radio in the truck fill the silence.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” He asks, looking over at me.

  “I guess” I reply warily, looking back over at him. In this light his eyes almost look black with a slight sparkle from the lights of the dash.

  “Why is someone as nice as you with an asshole like that?” He asks. I’m taken aback for a second, only a second, before I start mentally preparing myself answer to his question.

  “First off, who says I'm nice? I could be a huge bitch, and most of the people at HHA will actually tell you I am. Secondly, who says Weston is an asshole to me?” I answer his question with questions of my own.

  His devilish smirk tells me he figured that was how I was going to answer, and he was prepared for it.

  “You met Breanna today right?” He asks. I nod my head, not quite understanding where he is going with this. “She’s my sister. She is a little anxious around new people and she’s easily intimidated. She was so scared to approach the head cheerleader, she was freaking out over it the entire weekend. When I saw her after I got home from ball she was over the moon excited, she said you were so nice to her and she basically wouldn’t shut up about you. Also, I never said he was an asshole to you, but he is an asshole in general.”

  I can feel my face heating up at his appreciative tone in the retelling of my treatment of his sister so I turn to look out the window, attempting to hide the embarrassment written across my face.

  “I just don’t see a point in being an asshole to someone for no reason” I say quietly. When I turn back around I can see his brows drawn down. “What is it?” I ask.

  “You said the other kids at HHA would say you were a bitch?” He asks, his eyebrow raising slightly.

  “Yeah. I guess I used to be a few years back. Between being on the cheerleading squad and dating ‘the most popular guy in school’ I was sort of an arrogant little shit” I reply, shrugging “People change…”

  “You still didn’t answer my other question” he says, tapping his long fingers on the steering wheel. I just shrug in response. He can take that however he wants to but I feel that is all the answer I'm willing to give.

  He nods his head slowly, obviously understanding more than I was willing to say out loud.

  The rest of the ride is quiet, the only sounds coming from Siri and the soft radio. When we pull up out front of my gated driveway I reach for the handle.

  “I can take you to the door” he says, looking up the long curving driveway. The house sits far back behind the trees so you can only see a few outside lights between the pines. I shake my head and push the door open.

  “Better not, if my parents see someone other than Weston dropping me off it will be the Spanish Inquisition and I’d much prefer to avoid that drama if possible” I say, leaning against the door frame “But thanks so much for the ride, I truly do appreciate it.”

  “If y
ou ever need a knight in shining armor to come save you, I’ll always be more than willing” he smiles that smile that’s so full of mischief I can’t help but laugh.

  “Goodnight Barron” I say to him before shutting the door. I walk around to the other side and enter the gate code. The large iron gate starts sliding open, the tracks squealing as it does.

  “Hey Skylar?” Barron says, I hadn’t even heard him roll down the window. I turn around before he speaks again “You can do a hell of a lot better” he says before putting the truck in reverse and backing back into the road.

  Damn straight I can, too bad if I did I would never live it down in the Maison De Santora.

  Chapter 7

  Skylar

  “Morning” Weston grumbles as I climb into his car the next morning, reaching back and pulling my purse from the back floorboard. I grab my phone out and groan when I find it dead. I take his car charger and plug it in.

  “What? Not speaking this morning” he asks, looking over at me.

  One… Two… Three…

  I count in my head to calm my nerves before I speak and lash out at him. “Morning” I reply, my tone even.

  “What crawled up your ass?” He snaps, apparently oblivious to his lack of decent human etiquette from the night before and any lingering effects it may have had.

  “Could it be I had to have Maisie pay for my dinner last night after you bailed on me with my purse in your car? Or that I had to find a ride home because I had no phone to even get an Uber? Did you seriously up and ditch me last night?” I snap back, obviously holding my tongue isn’t going to be as easy as I thought this morning.

  He looks over at me, seemingly offended that I raised my voice at him.

  “Who took you home?” He asks, looking over at me with a bored expression on his face but the malice in his voice apparent.

  “Really? That’s all you have to say to me? No ‘I'm sorry I ditched you baby’ or ‘that was shitty of me’?” I scoff, rolling my eyes as his facial expression remains the same.