by Amy Sparling
Bayleigh calls shortly after and insists that we come over as soon as possible. She’s making a full Christmas meal for lunch but wants us over before that to hang out.
First, we open presents and although it’s a little awkward at first, I feel more at home with Jett by my side.
His parents give me a charm bracelet from a very famous Texas jeweler named James Avery. The silver chain has heart-shaped links and they’ve added the dirt bike charm, a K+J charm, and one that says family. I tear up the moment I hold it in my hands. It is beautiful and thoughtful and I know I’ll wear it forever.
Jett gets me a bunch of fun gifts that he knows I’ll like, like a new case for my phone, and a gift card to the bookstore. I also get DVDs of my favorite shows that aren’t on Netflix, and an entire stocking filled with my favorite kind of candy. My name is written on the top of the stocking in glitter and he admits he had to get his mom’s help to make it look that pretty.
“Have you given her the . . ?” Bayleigh asks him after a while.
He shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“Given me what?” I ask, peering at him. “You’ve already given me way too many things.”
“Well, I have one more that’s even more special.”
“I have one more that’s even more special for you,” I say, poking him in the chest.
“Let’s play rock paper scissors to see who goes first,” he says, positioning his fist on top of his hand.
I play him and my rock beats his scissors. I squee and reach for the big box that I’d had to get Park to carry over here. It’s not that it’s too big, but it’s way too heavy.
Everyone watches while Jett opens the box, revealing a massive camping backpack, filled with gear. But on the outside, safety pinned to the zipper so he sees it first, is his real present.
A week long hiking trip across the Guadalupe Mountains National Park, all-inclusive with a tour guide of our very own.
“You’re coming too, right?” he asks.
I grin. “My backpack is at home.”
He throws his arms around me. “This is amazing.”
“Tell him the reason behind it,” Becca says. I explain to him that I thought a camping and hiking trip would be a great way to destress after all of these motocross races. We’d be in the wilderness, connecting with Mother Nature, and away from all of the fame and annoying parts of the internet.
“This makes my gift look terrible,” Jett says, laughing. He reaches under the tree and takes out a small box. “But here you are. Merry Christmas.”
I’m keenly aware of our parents watching me intently, but I try to block it out and just focus on Jett. Inside the box is a velvet jewelry box, long and rectangular. I pull open the lid and gasp.
It’s a pink gold heart necklace, the heart is made of diamonds and I know without asking that they are real. I remember telling him that pink gold was so pretty and he must have remembered.
Tears flood into my eyes as I thank him, and he fastens it around my neck for me. Becca and Bayleigh coo over how pretty it is, and Jace tells his son he did a good job.
When all of the presents have been opened, we enjoy a Christmas feast around the Adams’ dining table, and I eat until I’m totally stuffed.
It occurs to me, that in only a few months, a holiday that used to be meaningless to me has now become my favorite part of the whole year. I can see why Becca is so excited to share it with her future son. I can only imagine how much more magical it would be to experience all of this love and family as a child. But the past is in the past, and from now on, I’m living for a better future.
Chapter 24
It had taken me a while to decide on the perfect place to hang my artwork from Keanna. My dad thought it’d look great at The Track, but I wanted to keep it for myself, where I could see it any time. Plus, Keanna said she could always make more motocross themed canvases to hang up at The Track. This one in particular is mine.
I finally decide on mounting it directly above my headboard in my bedroom.
With a hammer and two nails, I hang it up and then step back to admire my handiwork. It looks great. Like the new focal point of my bedroom. I know I’m going to have this for a long time, and one day when I’m old, I’ll be able to look back on my glory days.
Today is New Year’s Eve, and my parents are throwing a big party at The Track. This has been their tradition for about five years now, and I’m only recently considered old enough to attend and drink the beer. The first couple of years, my parents only invited adults and it got kind of wild and crazy. They spare no expense for this party, calling it a way to ‘give back to their clients’ at the end of the year to use some of it as a tax write-off, I guess.
But Keanna is excited to attend, and even more so now that Becca and my mom have declared this party to be a masquerade. (I think they’ve been watching too many fancy shows on Netflix.)
The party theme is open to interpretation any way you’d like to, whether by dressing in a classic Victorian masquerade fashion with the fancy dresses, or by just wearing a mask. Hell, any mask would do, even one of those cheese plastic vampire masks for Halloween.
You can guess which way my girlfriend wanted to interpret it. The fancy way.
She’d spent the last few days scouring the city with Maya in an attempt to find the perfect Victorian-style dress. She’d told me she was going for something black and gold, the classic New Year’s Eve colors. I’m guessing she found something suitable because yesterday she delivered my own ensemble for me. A black tux with a gold tie that has some kind of black baroque print on it. It matches the pocket square and I have a very masculine, if not tacky, black and gold face mask.
I haven’t seen what she’s wearing. Apparently, like getting married, showing your fancy dress off before the big party is a big no-no. I’m excited though, because Keanna is excited. I’m happy to participate in whatever makes her eyes light up, no matter how silly it might seem to me.
After I’m all dressed in what feels like too many layers of fancy clothing, I head out to my truck and drive over to her house. The Track’s parking lot is starting to fill up with catering vans and my parent’s closer friends who show up early to things like this. Becca and Park walk outside just as I arrive. Park is dressed like normal, but he’s wearing a plastic mardi gras mask over his face. Becca is wearing a long red gown that looks like it was salvaged from a vintage shop. Her mask is covered with an array of red and black feathers that go up taller than her fancy hairstyle. “You look so handsome,” she says as our paths cross.
I thank her and then go inside, looking for Keanna. Her door is closed, but I go to walk in anyway and I nearly crash into it. It’s locked.
I tap on the door with my knuckles. “Keanna? I’m here.”
There’s silence for a moment and then she says, “Go away.”
“What?” My heart hammers in my chest. Have I done something wrong?
Then, on the other side of the door, she says, “No. Don’t go.”
I lean against the door frame. “You okay?”
“No.”
“What!” My panicked reply must startle her because the door unlocks and opens just a crack.
“I’m physically okay.” One of her eyes watches me through the crack in the door. I know I could overpower her and shove my way inside if I wanted, but I give her the privacy she desires. She sighs. “I’m just not feeling very great about this dress.”
“You’ve been raving about your dress for three days,” I say.
“That was before I overheard your mom saying there’s going to be two hundred guests tonight.”
“So? It’s a fun party, not everyone will be dressed up.”
“That’s not it,” she says, pulling open the door further.
She’s wearing a black gown with golden sequins sewn all over it in an intricate pattern. It’s all very pretty, in a regal way instead of like what girls wear to prom.
“You look amazing,” I say, taking her hands.<
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She frowns. “How many other girls will be there looking even better?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Zero. Exactly zero.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course I do,” I say, tilting her head up so I can kiss her. “There are no prettier girls than the most gorgeous girl on the planet.”
She rolls her eyes but she smiles a little, so that’s good.
“Baby, what’s bothering you?” I ask, walking her over to her bed.
She lifts one shoulder and stares at the carpet. “I don’t know. I was excited, but then I started thinking about all of your adoring fans and wondering how many of them will be here tonight.”
She lifts the fabric of her skirt a few inches and then drops it disdainfully. “And how many of them will be dressed in revealing slutty clothes that make me look like some kind of prude weirdo?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Baby, you’re over thinking this. First of all, you’re absolutely beautiful,” I say, pointing to my finger. “Secondly, slutty girls aren’t my thing, and thirdly—” I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it. “You’re the only girl I care about. For now, and forever.”
“Forever?” she says, pronouncing it like two separate words.
There’s a gift in my pocket that I’ve been saving for midnight. But I can’t deny it—I’m thinking of giving it to her now. I gaze into her dark eyes, taking in all of her fear and insecurities. I wish I could wrap them all up, set them on fire, and insure that she never feels any kind of pain again.
“Forever, Keanna.” I kiss her cheek. “This is our first New Years together. Let’s make it special.”
Chapter 25
The party has transformed The Track into something magical. All of the grassy area between the main building and the track has been covered with those big white tents you see at weddings. There are three tents in all, each the size of a house. They all connect to a wooden dancefloor in the middle.
Clear lights and confetti and ice sculptures adorn every square inch of the place. There’s a live band playing music, a catered dinner, and best of all: everyone wears a mask.
Some people took the silly approach like Park did, by wearing football mascot masks, or Halloween scary faces, but must people are more elegant, staying true to a classic Masquerade. I love every second of it.
And the best part?
Since we’re all in masks, I can’t really be compared to the other girls. No one knows when Jett and I enter the main tent, hand in hand. We’re just two faceless people in a crowd of hundreds of others.
I can’t believe I was so worried. If the masks stay on all night, I’ll have no comparisons to other girls. It’ll just be me and Jett.
Jett looks handsome as hell in his black, form-fitting tux. His mask is the male version of mine, so we match perfectly. It’s taking everything I have not to shove him in a corner and make out all night. That would just be rude to our guests, right?
We sit at a table with other anonymous people and enjoy a dinner of salmon, wild rice and delicious veggies. Then, we walk around and mingle, and Jett eats something off every tray of finger foods we pass.
I spot Becca standing hear Park, her gorgeous red dress like a spotlight on her. We walk over and she recognizes me too, since we both helped each other get dressed.
“Having fun?” she asks, taking another sip of her champagne.
“Lots.” In fact, my cheeks hurt from how much I’m smiling. I can’t help myself. It’s like a beautiful fairy tale in here.
Jett pulls me onto the dance floor, and although I’m horribly self-conscious and shy, he leans in and whispers, “No one knows who you are.”
His words are like a magic spell that brings out the dancer in me. We twirl and glide and hold each other close, our bodies moving to the beat of the music.
My waist starts to vibrate and I realize it’s my phone. I had slipped it into the hidden dress pocket before I left my house, just in case I wanted to take pictures of anything. Now that I remember it’s here, I take it out and ignore the phone call. It’s a random number I don’t know, so it’s probably a telemarketer.
“Smile!” I say, holding it out and snapping a photo of Jett and me. Though our faces are covered, you can still see in our eyes and smiles that we’re having a blast.
My phone rings again, vibrating with some unknown number. It’s not even the same area code as the numbers around here I hit ignore and shove it back in my pocket.
Jett spies a tray of pigs-in-a-blanket, his favorite finger food, and scurries off to get some.
My phone vibrates again, only this time it’s a text message.
Honey, please pick up.
What the hell? My hands turn to ice as I stare at the anonymous text message. Who else would call me Honey? Could it be her?
My throat goes dry. The phone begins to ring again. I catch Jett’s attention as he shoves a finger food in his mouth and I point to the phone and then the door, letting him know I’m going to step outside to take this call.
Then my feet carry me as quickly as they can, through the blur of dancing strangers and out into the cool night air. I slide my finger across the answer key, and with a shaky hand, I bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Keanna! My dear, how are you?”
My chest aches, but not from nostalgia. “I’m perfect.”
I take a deep breath. All of the things I wanted to say in those first few weeks after she left me, all of the anger and betrayal I felt—I’m now just an empty shell of emotion. I can’t be bothered to care anymore, so I keep my mouth shut.
“How are you, Dawn?” I ask.
“I’m okay, okay. But, I could use some money, dear.”
I laugh out loud, a loud bark of sarcasm. “I don’t have any money.”
“No, dear, not from you of course. I mean from the Park’s. Can you put Becca on the phone? I just need a small loan, or a gift, really. Just a few thousand dollars.”
“You don’t deserve anything,” I say through gritted teeth. “Certainly not a gift.”
“Keanna Byrd! How dare you speak like that!”
“My name is Keanna Park,” I say, my breath coming out in little puffs of white air. “Don’t call me again. You won’t be getting any money from us.”
“That is no way to speak to your mother,” she hisses.
I clench the phone tightly to my ear. “You’re right. But you are not my mother.”
The cold air helps calm the anger that’s coursing through my veins. I turn my phone completely off and then shove it back in my dress pocket. I will not let her ruin my New Year’s Eve.
How could she even have the balls to call up out of the blue and ask for money? Seriously? She abandoned me. She let another couple legally adopt me without so much as telling me a final goodbye or that she loved me. But I’ve only ever been a burden to Dawn Byrd. Something she didn’t want but couldn’t find a way to get rid of until I was practically an adult.
I draw in a deep breath and turn back toward the party tent. I close my eyes and picture balling up all of this drama with my biological mother and throwing it in a trash. Then I tell myself I’ll walk back into the party and I won’t be pissed off anymore. I’ll be over it. Because Dawn is not worth even two seconds of my time.
The tent is even more packed with guests now, happy drunken, dressed up guests. The music plays a lovely song, that has me swaying to the beat as I meander through the partiers, looking for my boyfriend.
Finally, I spot him, standing next to a tall cocktail table near one of the tent’s clear fake windows. He’s drinking a beer and talking with two guys who have put exactly zero thought into their masks.
As I make my way toward him, I see a girl in a skintight black mini dress, wearing the same black and gold eye mask as mine. I guess that’s not too surprising; I’d gotten it at Charming Charlie, a fun girly store nearby.
She saunters up behind Jett, then taps him on the shoulder.
Instinct has me annoyed, but I tell myself she doesn’t know who he is—she’s probably just being nice.
Wait.
What?
The whole room seems to blur into nothing as I watch the scene unfold. The girl, wearing my mask, taps his shoulder and he turns around. Then she grabs his face and pulls him into a kiss. She flings her body against his, grinding against him while she assaults his mouth with hers.
A pained gasp escapes my throat but the music is too loud for my pain to be heard. My legs keep walking somehow, and now I’m standing right in front of them. Jett’s face scrunches beneath his mask and he pulls away, his lips turned into a scowl. The girl tries to grab him again but he looks up, almost confused.
Our eyes meet and I lift my mask off my face. A single tear rolls down my cheek as Jett makes the connection. The girl throwing herself on him is not me.
He shoves her back by the shoulder. “What the fuck?” he says, though it’s barely audible.
The girl reaches for his hand and he yanks it away, then moves around the table to where I’m standing, still in shock.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his arm sliding around my waist. “I thought she was you.”
“I know.” I nod because my voice is too choked up to understand. “I saw it.”
The mask girl twirls around, then puts her hands on her hips. Her blue eyes bore into mine and her lips twist into a smirk. “You’re not good enough for him, you know.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Without realizing it, I’d thrown my body forward to launch at her, but Jett holds me back.
“Don’t, baby. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re trash,” she tells me, her voice confident. “He’ll never be good enough for you.”
“Get out of here,” Jett tells her. He points to the door like she’s a bad dog who lost her indoor privileges. “Go and don’t come back.”