Masquerade

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Masquerade Page 6

by Cambria Hebert


  Someone tugged at my arm. “Come on, Heven. We have to go.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I told them without taking my eyes away from Sam.

  He nodded once and his lips curved up in a secret smile. A smile directed at only me. My heart fluttered beneath my ribs. Before I could smile back I was pulled away behind the curtains, and I was jarred back to life by the noise and people around me. It was such a stark contrast to what I felt only moments before I actually wondered if I had imagined everything that just happened.

  I stood in front of a large mirror, wiping the stage makeup from my face. We nailed the competition and won. Everyone was thrilled. I was just relieved it was over and maybe a little proud of myself for doing it. My nerves were still raw from the stress of all the people, and sometimes it was still hard to draw a breath.

  I tossed the cotton pad in the trash and reached for another, dousing it with makeup remover. The makeup was thick, and I wanted it gone. Somehow I felt that it drew more attention to my scars than away from them like it was meant to do.

  “Hey, girl.” Kimber smiled, coming up behind me.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Loading the bus. Time to go.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll be outside talking to Cole.”

  When all the makeup was gone, I brushed my hands through my hair, already released from the dreaded pony and pulled it over my shoulders. When I reached down to flip the brush into my bag I caught a glimpse of half my reflection. My good side. I straightened up keeping the edge of the mirror splitting my face in half. When I looked at myself this way, I could almost believe my accident had been a horrible nightmare, and what I saw on this half of my face was exactly the same on the other.

  Behind me the door creaked open, and I bent to grab my bag. “I’ll be right there.”

  I stood to find Sam’s reflection watching me in the mirror. My good side was still the only side of me showing, and for a brief moment I stared at us both and pretended that I was beautiful enough to fit with him. He took a step forward and then another until he stood just behind me. I watched as he slowly reached out and pulled my hair behind my shoulder. His knuckles skimmed along my jaw and then his hand settled around my neck, his fingers splaying lightly over my skin.

  Sometimes he seems so familiar. It was a feeling, fleeting at best, and it was too complicated to explain. Mostly it was an instinct that I was safe. I shook my head, unwilling to admit such a thing.

  “What do you see?” He hitched his chin at our reflection.

  “What will never be.”

  He took my shoulders and turned me to face him. When I ducked my head he placed a finger beneath my chin and lifted my face. “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “Half of me.”

  His hand rested over my heart. “All of you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I sense you.” The words said in his husky tone dripped with intimacy.

  “Why are you here?”

  Kimber picked that moment to burst through the door. She stopped cold at the sight before her. I stepped away quickly, but Sam stayed where he was, not even turning to look at her.

  “Kimber, I…”

  She was shocked and probably hurt by seeing me like this with Sam, but she didn’t say a word. “I’ll tell the bus driver you’re having a lady issue and need a few minutes.”

  “No, I…”

  “Take your time. I’ll see you on the bus.” And then she was gone.

  “Crap,” I said.

  Sam smiled.

  “You think this is funny?”

  “I think you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

  I held in a groan. “Why are you here?”

  “For you.”

  “Me?”

  “I thought you might like a friendly face in the stands.”

  I felt a warm blush bloom in my cheeks and hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “What about Kimber?”

  “Her heart belongs to another.”

  So he knew that she really wanted Cole. Was I some kind of consolation prize? Was he taking pity on the disfigured girl to make himself feel better? “I have to go.” I tried to rush past him but he caught my hand.

  “What did I say?”

  “Nothing.” Exactly nothing.

  “I was never interested in Kimber. I’m interested in you.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Why did this surprise him?

  I shook my head.

  He stepped closer.

  My knees turned to Jell-O. But I was spared embarrassment from falling because he put those strong hands at my waist and bent his head. I swallowed thickly as he put his lips to my ear. “Sense it.”

  He was good. Really good.

  “Can you?” he whispered, and then his lips brushed my cheek.

  “W-what?”

  His lips brushed my cheek again, and my eyes closed. But then he stiffened and rose to his full height, keeping his hands at my waist. Behind us the door burst open and something hit Sam hard. He didn’t lose his balance, but the force of the hit vibrated through him into me. His eyes were sad and apologetic while he removed his hands from me.

  “Turn around you bastard.”

  I gasped and looked around Sam at Cole. He was standing with an aggressive stance and a scowl on his face. His eyes flicked to me then back to Sam. “Go, get on the bus.”

  “Cole,” I protested.

  “I don’t like you,” Cole spat at Sam. “You took advantage of Kimber, and now you’re doing it to Heven.”

  “He isn’t!” I put myself in front of Sam, afraid of what Cole might do.

  Cole grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. Behind me I heard a growl, and then Cole was on the ground with Sam in front of me. “Watch it,” he snarled down at Cole.

  Cole jumped up and charged, hooking Sam around the waist and pushing him back. Both guys went down in a tangle of fists.

  “Stop!” I cried, hearing a fist connect with bone. The sound was sickening.

  Kimber burst in and started screeching for them to get off each other. Of course they didn’t listen. “What happened?” she asked me.

  “They just started fighting.”

  Another sickening thud and I looked down in time to see Cole land a solid punch on Sam’s face. My stomach heaved. “Don’t hurt him!” I said, without the force I intended. The blood drained from my head, and my vision swam.

  Kimber stepped over them and grabbed at Cole just as Sam flipped them both over. Kimber went flying backward into the wall, landing on her butt.

  “Kimmie?” Cole was up and pulling Kimber to her feet before I could move. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No more fighting,” she cried, “this is my fault.”

  She looked past Cole at Sam. “I’m sorry, but I am in love with Cole, and I used you to make him jealous.”

  “I know,” Sam said simply. “I used you to get to Heven.”

  Both Kimber and Cole stared at him, astonished. It was insulting. If I wasn’t fighting a panic attack, I would have told them so.

  With that announcement he dismissed them and turned toward me. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.”

  When I could breathe I said, “I don’t like fighting. I have to go.”

  I saw the same sadness from earlier pass over his eyes, but he nodded. I grabbed my bag from the floor and walked to the door.

  “I’m sorry, Hev,” Cole called.

  I kept going.

  It was not my day. The sky had finally opened up and rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking my clothes and making me cold. With no sign of the rain letting up, it was equally depressing when the bus broke down not even halfway home. Most of the students got lucky because their parents were following behind the bus, and they were allowed to ride with them. I wasn’t so lucky.

  “Come on Heven, Cole’s out there. Coach said we could ride with him.”

  I allowed Kimber to lead me off the bus an
d through the rain toward Cole’s truck. I dreaded the ride with the pair. As Kimber climbed into the cab next to Cole, I looked around. Sam was parked, engine running, behind Cole. He was standing in the rain on the passenger side of his truck. He opened the door, looked at me, and waited to see what I would do.

  “Heven?” Kimber called from inside Cole’s truck.

  Without a word I left her and walked through the pounding rain toward Sam.

  The Hate

  She’s falling for his act. I can smell it. I can see it in her eyes. Without realizing it, she is destroying what little is left in her life. I took a moment to stare at the astonished faces of her friends as she chose him over them. How alone she will be when he abandons her.

  They have no idea that I am watching them. Stalking them. I watched as he shut her in his truck and turned, and I caught a glimpse of his face. He angers me. He didn’t look triumphant or even smug. He didn’t look like a hunter triumphant in capturing his prey. He looked…nervous and hopeful. I should have known he couldn’t do the job. He’s too obsessed with her to care about what she knows. Apparently she’s the one doing a number on him.

  The way he watches her…would he turn his back on us and choose her? I thought that once he got to know her, he would see how pathetic she really was. How can he look at her destroyed face and feel anything but pity?

  He’s losing sight of the reason he’s here.

  He needs a reminder.

  The Hope

  Her love for him is palpable. She sees the good that fills him but turns a blind eye to what is beneath his surface, yet she knows that something else is there. She hesitates to trust him, and she is right to do so. He must prove himself.

  It is clear that he loves her.

  Chapter Six

  Heven

  Inside the truck it was warm, and I sank into the seat with a shiver. Sam climbed into the driver’s side and reached behind him to pull out a gray sweatshirt, which he draped over my shoulders. It was soft and worn, and I couldn’t resist pushing my arms through it and wrapping it around my body. It smelled just like him: deep and strong with a hint of spice.

  “Thanks,” I told him, pulling my soaked hair out from the sweatshirt and letting it drip down my back.

  He watched me for a moment then redirected the heat vents so they all pointed at me. “Are you warm enough?”

  I nodded. “What about you? You’re just as wet as I am.”

  He shrugged. “I like water.”

  “Are you a good swimmer?”

  “The best.”

  “I don’t like water,” I admitted. It was just another reminder that I wasn’t good enough to be here. I reached for the handle. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  I turned back. His wet hair was hanging down on his forehead, and it flipped out over his right ear. His face wasn’t wet, but looked damp, giving his smooth, olive-toned skin a dewy quality and his eyes, which looked more gold than hazel, were framed by a fringe of dark lashes that were watching me with a resigned look.

  “I could use some coffee.”

  He flashed me a smile that made my toes curl then put the truck into drive. As he pulled around Kimber and Cole, I was aware of the pair staring, shocked, out the window at us as we drove away. I reached down and turned off my cell, knowing that I was going to have a dozen messages from Kimber later.

  He drove skillfully, maneuvering through the downtown traffic with ease. For the first time all day, I found myself relaxing against the seat and settling deeper into his warm sweatshirt. Too soon, he guided the truck into a hard-to-come-by parking spot and turned off the engine.

  “Where are we?” I’d been to Portland several times, but I didn’t recognize this place.

  He smiled. “Well, it isn’t Starbucks, but it’s pretty good. Different.”

  He was around the truck and opening my door before I could say anything. My stomach fluttered when he lifted me out, and I was slightly disappointed when he stepped back, putting distance between us. I followed him onto the sidewalk and trailed after him, smiling to myself at how huge his sweatshirt was on me. Yet I loved it. Suddenly he stopped, and I ran into the back of him. “Sorry,” I stammered as he turned.

  He gave me a crooked smile and leaned forward to ask, “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t even have to think about it.

  He blinked at my fast response and then grasped for my hand, frowning when he couldn’t find it in the huge shirt. I fumbled with the material to free my hand, suddenly cursing the very shirt I loved for keeping me from his touch. When my hand was free his large hand closed around mine, and he towed me through an open door.

  “Bubble Maineia?” I asked.

  “What’s your favorite flavor?”

  “For what?”

  “For anything.”

  “Umm, strawberry.”

  He seemed pleased by this and sat me in a comfy chair before going to the counter to order. The people around me all had drinks with huge straws sticking out of them. The place was really cool and kind of funky. I looked around eagerly at all the color and decoration until I caught someone staring. Quickly I ducked my head, letting my damp hair hide my face. How could I have forgotten?

  A pair of scuffed boots appeared in front of me, and Sam scooted a chair over and sat down directly in front of me, blocking me from view. “I got you something.”

  I looked up to see him holding out a dark pink drink. It too had a big straw that measured at least half an inch. At the bottom of the clear cup were a bunch of marble sized balls. I reached out and took the drink, fiddling with the straw. “What is this?”

  “It’s called Bubble Tea.” I watched him take a long pull from his own drink, which was a shade of brown. “Try it.”

  He eagerly watched me, and I couldn’t help but get swept up in his fun. With a smile I tried the drink. It was sweet and creamy, tasting of strawberry. Then, one of the balls from the bottom made its way through the straw and into my mouth. It was like a big gummy bear. It made me feel like a kid.

  “This is really good,” I declared, taking another drink. Then I paused. “What’s in it?”

  He laughed. A deep, husky laugh that drew stares from some of the women in the shop. He didn’t seem to notice. “It’s tea mixed with cream and sugar. Yours is strawberry flavored. The balls at the bottom are called tapioca pearls.”

  “What flavor is yours?”

  To my surprise he held it out for me to try. The thought of my lips touching the same straw as his made me shiver. He noticed and frowned. “Are you cold? Maybe I should have gotten you coffee.”

  “No. This is perfect.” Before he could pull the drink away, I took a sip. When I pulled back he had that unreadable expression on his face. “Chocolate.”

  “You like?”

  “Mine’s better.” I held it out for him. His eyes widened, but he leaned forward and took a sip. A little thrill went through me.

  “I think you’re right,” he agreed.

  “I didn’t know this place was here.”

  “I found it last summer. Been coming here ever since.”

  “Thanks for bringing me.”

  Just then a loud group of guys walked through the door, and I automatically tensed, ducking my head. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam said, standing to return his chair.

  Outside the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle. Sam pulled me close to the buildings and pulled the large hood on the sweatshirt up over my head. “Are you ready to go home?”

  I shook my head.

  His smile was one of relief, and it made me a little sad. There was something about him that seemed lonely, and it made me want to take it away from him. He reached out and brushed my hand with his, but then pulled back to walk beside me. I concentrated on my drink and ignored the disappointment I felt.

  “Can I show you my other favorite place around here?”

  “Sure.”

  We walked a few blocks, not really sp
eaking, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Then Sam cleared his throat. “That park over there–” He pointed, then placed his hand at the small of my back. “–that’s Lincoln Park.”

  In the center of the park was a fountain. It was a cute find in the middle of an urban space.

  “It was created after the great fire of 1866 which burned down almost all the buildings here in Portland. The park is named after Abraham Lincoln.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I read a lot, explore a lot.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “About parks?”

  A very faint pink spread beneath the sun kissed glow of his skin. He was embarrassed, and it was so cute. I giggled. He smiled a quick flash of straight, white teeth then he shrugged.

  “I’m kind of drawn to this place. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been here for so long. Maybe it’s because it was created after something really bad happened, and it was like a fresh start for the town…” his voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat.

  “I really like it too,” I said softly, bumping my shoulder into his side.

  That seemed to please him, which gave me monster-sized butterflies yet again in my belly.

  A few minutes later we came to another door. “This is your favorite place?” I smiled.

  “It’s not my favorite place, but I really like it.”

  “A comic book store?”

  He grinned and opened the door for me. Inside was bright with racks and shelves full of comic books. There was even someone dressed in a Star Wars costume walking around the store. I prayed he stayed away from me and hurried to get closer to Sam. I could tell how much he liked this place by the way he walked around taking everything in and briefly touching a few of the books.

  “So why comic books?” I asked him in a hushed tone.

  Without turning around he answered, “A lot of the characters are exceptional. They’re different than everyone else. They have…abilities, and they have challenges to face. But yet they’re still like everyone else too.”

 

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