UnMasked

by Yara Gharios

  When I’m about to reach for my shoes, I feel his hands on my waist, below my shirt and over the waistband of my jeans. I stiffen. My heartbeat accelerates just as much as his. Heat surges through me, quite in a different way than what I feel as I shift, and awakens all the synapses in my body, making every touch that much more intense.

  I can’t allow him to get closer than that or I will definitely lose it, I convince myself.

  Twisting on my heels, which sink into the earth as I do so, I face him. He doesn’t understand that I was trying to get away and comes closer to me, lifting one of his hands to put it against my cheek. I try to take a step back, but I hit the tree and he places his other hand against it, trapping me.

  “It’s you, Dylan,” he whispers in awe. “It’s you.”

  My knees grow weak, and for a second, I forget what I was about to do. I see him leaning toward me, and I can’t remember why I wanted to pull away.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he sighs, not really expecting an answer, since he’s still leaning in.

  My eyes close of their own accord and my lips relax in anticipation of his kiss. The very first touch feels like a spark to my mouth, and I jump in surprise. It’s not enough to snap me out of it, but it does help me remember what I was about to do.

  “No,” I whimper a little reluctantly.

  The word is like a jolt to his system. His head snaps back and he looks at me with shock. “What?” he lets out.

  It’s much easier to hold my ground when he’s not trying to kiss me, although it’s still hard. “I said no,” I repeat more forcefully. “I’m not going to let you.”

  He struggles with himself and his emotions, of which hurt is probably predominant at the moment. “Why?” he pleads.

  I meet his gaze defiantly, and hold my head high as I answer him. “Because I don’t want to,” I lie, my tone coming out cold. “You’ve done too much damage, and I refuse to act like none of it ever happened.”

  Astonished, he pulls back without a word. I know he will only remain frozen until the shock wears off, so I take this opportunity to run away. He better not follow me. I don’t know what I’ll do if he fixes me with those pain-stricken eyes a second longer, and sees his emotions reflected in mine.

  Part 2

  Dylan

  CHAPTER 15

  The agony is so intense this time that I have to scream.

  “Mother fu–,” I shout before Sadie throws her hand over my mouth and Marianna restrains me.

  Sadie stares at me apologetically and shushes me. “This is for your own good, honey, just hang on a little bit longer,” she promises in a tone so sickly sweet that I want to rip them both off me and strangle them, along with the lady responsible for my pain.

  Why the hell do girls put themselves through this?! I mentally yell. This is pure torture! It’s just not worth it!

  It was bad enough that the two of them ganged up on me, and recruited my brothers to help them get me out of bed and to the mall to buy clothes, but now they were also intent on skinning me alive, too. If they were doing this for my own good, they could have at least used a razor.

  I know it looks like I gave up and let them walk all over me, but trust me, I fought back. I still am. If it wasn’t for the boys, for one thing, I wouldn’t have come here at all, let alone kicking and screaming. But then my brothers gave me a tempting offer. They will all be the victims of the upcoming War Day, will not retaliate during the week and will not make me victim until after my birthday. If I agree to let Marianna and Sadie girlify me. I had one condition: no one goes near my face. I need to remain a boy at least partially so I can graduate.

  “Okay, no face,” Mason agreed. “Do we have a deal?”

  “Fine, but don’t expect me to like it,” I warned them.

  “We don’t,” Marianna assured me.

  “We’ll handle that some other day,” Sadie added with an angelic smile.

  When we settled it, my brothers left us there. Danny was going to come get us when it was time to go to school and find out what our grades are and if we graduated.

  During the clothes shopping part, I was cooperative. Well, I listened to them and didn’t run straight out of there, but I didn’t like it. I certainly made a point of expressing my dislike once every five minutes, but they would not get exasperated and leave me be. I even tried to sulk and pick up the worst clothes I could find in the store, just to make this more difficult for them. But then they dared me to try them on in front of the whole store, as a boy, and I stopped that.

  After that, I let them do all the deciding while I just played the role of their mannequin and paid for the reasonably priced ones. Apparently, even my parents were in on it, the traitors. They’re the ones who agreed to finance this whole torture trip.

  After almost an hour, Marianna and Sadie were having so much fun that it kind of rubbed off on me. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sulking, either. I just accepted my fate and protested only through my silence.

  But this is bullsh*t. I did not sign up for waxing my legs and arms. They had something called a “full bikini” or something in mind, but I put my foot down there. There was no way I was going to let some random beautician see me like that, especially when I was still pretending to be a boy. It would have been too weird, not to mention dangerous for my secret. They couldn’t say no to this one. And yet, they put their foot down on the legs and arms.

  Another ripping sound breaks through my murderous thoughts, and the burning pain returns once again. My scream is muffled by Sadie’s hand. I try to shake out of their grasp again, but it’s hard with the belt strapping me to the chair with my arms at my sides.

  “Tell me again, why are you making him do this?” the torture lady asked with worry.

  “He lost a bet,” is Sadie’s brilliant explanation, “and this was part of the terms.”

  “Well, this is the final one, Dylan,” she tells me sympathetically. I still hate her from the bottom of my heart for bringing this on me, but I find relief in what she says.

  Just one more, Dyl, I encourage myself.

  I take deep calming breaths while I wait for the lady to reload her torture device. My arms are still sore after twenty minutes, because it took the lady half that much time to do each arm and leg. Then I feel the hot wax against the back of my left thigh and hold my breath as she presses it against my skin, before ripping it off in one swift movement. I don’t scream this time, because I was anticipating it, but I do grunt as I hold it in.

  “There, it’s done,” the lady announces. “Let me just put some cream on it. We’ll wash it off in five minutes, and then you can roll your pants back down.”

  “Thank you,” Marianna tells her with a genuine smile.

  The lady smiles back. “I’ll give you a moment to catch your breath.”

  She retreats and pulls the curtain back as she leaves to give us privacy. That’s when I sag against the chair and start exhaling really loudly. This has been the longest session of my entire life.

  “I’m not paying for this,” I declare lazily. “I agreed to the clothes and stuff but not this.”

  “That’s okay,” Marianna replies. “This is my treat.”

  “That’s a gross misuse of the word ‘treat’,” I grumble.

  Thank God it’s over now.

  “You did well,” Marianna tells me affectionately.

  “If you don’t count the screaming and her trying to bite us and the restraints, then yeah, she did great!” Sadie mocks.

  When I said they ganged up on me, I really meant that they became chummy with each other just to get me to submit. No one who sees them right now can tell that they’ve only known each other for a couple of days. They’ve fallen into an easy acquaintance and might even be on their way to becoming friends.

  Going shopping together? Check.

  Sharing secrets? Check.

  Having a third best friend to torture together? Check and mate – no pun intended.

  “I would kill
you for saying that, but I’m already dead anyway,” I groan. “Can we please just go already?”

  Aside from wanting to get the hell out of there, I’m also kind of anticipating seeing my grades. I know I passed them all, but I want to know how well I did. I studied really hard, remember?

  “Sure, I’ll call Danny,” Marianna easily agrees.

  ***

  The school posts the names of all the students who pass on the bulletin board, but if one wants to find out his or her individual grades, they will have to go to the administration and pull their transcripts. Those who don’t pass and aren’t graduating can retrieve the money they paid for the ceremony, the robes and prom afterwards.

  Usually, a lot of the students arrive to school before the results are posted, so that they can know as early as possible whether or not they passed. That’s why, when we get there, Danny, Sadie and I clamber around in the crowd to get a glimpse of the board. I look from the top, since the names are put in alphabetical order, and my eyes fall on all three of our names in succession.

  “We did it!” I cheer and jump back to hug the first person I see, who turns out to be my twin.

  “Hey! Let go of me, weirdo!” he protests and slaps my arms away.

  I wince at the contact. “Ouch! Dude, watch it! Still sore here.”

  He declares wanting to use the bathroom, before this escalates into a full-on wrestling match. Then Sadie calls my name. She sounds strange. When I turn to her, I see she’s looking somewhere out of the crowd. I follow her gaze, and my eyes land on the last person I expected to see here, and probably the one I don’t ever want to see again.

  He’s standing by the entrance of the school, searching the crowd with his eyes. The voices of the students cheering as well as whining cover mine when I speak.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” I demand angrily.

  “I don’t know, but let’s find out,” Sadie answers. “Yo Logan!”

  I snap my head to look at her and try to force her to shut up. Unfortunately, he’s already heard her call and followed it to find us. When our eyes meet, I feel the pull again, burning hotter than ever. I ignore it and stare him down. He surprises me by gesturing for me to follow him and going out and around the school building on the right side. I watch his retreating figure through the windows without moving.

  “Maybe you should go see what he wants,” Marianna suggests when we’re out of the crowd, after Sadie forced me to tell her what just happened.

  “Why would I do that?” I question dubiously.

  “You need to have this conversation with him, Dyl,” Sadie tries to convince me.

  “You can’t run forever,” Marianna seconds. “You can’t avoid the inevitable.”

  I sigh, taking two steps back. “Fine,” I concede. “Wait here.”

  For the first time today, they actually do what I ask them. I walk in the general direction Logan went, growing angrier and more nervous with each step. He’s leaning against the side of the building when I catch up to him, but he stands straight when he sees me approaching. His face is a mask of shock that betrays the calmness he’s trying to emanate.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits.

  “I wasn’t going to,” I tell him in my normal voice. There isn’t anyone in sight, and I feel awkward using my guy voice ever since the secret’s been out. “But the girls made me.”

  I haven’t the slightest clue as to what he’s got to say. Part of me is hoping it’s some form or other of a declaration that would shut my doubts up and lead us to the beginning of a real relationship, but I can’t get my hopes up. He hasn’t known long enough to develop feelings for me, and that’s the cold hard truth.

  “Let’s get this over with so I can get back to my friends,” I say when he simply stands there without uttering a single word. Even with my urging, he still doesn’t immediately speak.

  “How are you doing it?” he asks, and it comes out as a plea.

  I blink, confused. “Doing what?”

  “Resisting it,” he tells me.

  When I understand exactly what he’s asking, I remember what it felt like to be in his place, to want to be close to someone who doesn’t share your wishes.

  Hurts, doesn’t it? I angrily think.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice blocking it,” I retort.

  His jaw stiffens, his arms at his side become rigid, and he fists his hands so hard that they start turning white around his knuckles. He takes a step toward me and I match it with a step back. Then he sighs tiredly.

  “Come on, Dylan,” he begs. “This is crazy. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit?”

  My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. He did not just go there.

  “I’m overreacting?” I repeat, fuming now. “Why? Because I won’t overlook the weeks of depression you put me through?”

  He throws his hands up in the air in frustration. “Give me a break,” he objects. “Stop playing the hurt-little-girl façade. You know I had no idea for most of that time. You can’t blame be for that.”

  I grit my teeth together, using my anger to hide the truth. “What about the part where you didn’t believe me when we were supposedly friends, and even punched me? Was that not your fault, too?”

  “You can’t blame me for that, either,” he protests. “I reacted the way any normal person would. I thought you betrayed my trust.”

  “No, instead you betrayed mine.”

  “How the hell did I do that?” he yells, sounding as angry as I feel.

  “I told you how hard it was for me before you even knew the truth, and then when you did, you just walked away like I never even meant anything to you,” I remind him.

  “That’s not what happened,” he insists loudly before lowering his voice in case someone happened to overhear us. “Sure, I was mad you didn’t tell me. But there was more going on than you realize.”

  I hold my ground steadily. “Like what?”

  He hesitates. I don’t know if he’s debating whether or not he should tell me or if he doesn’t actually have a real reason and just won’t admit it. “I can’t tell you that yet. Look, can you just stop beating around the bush and tell me for real what it is you want from me? Because I know you well enough to realize that this is not the real reason why you’re pushing me away.”

  He’s right, of course. So far, I’ve given him nothing but excuses. But even as I think about it, I can’t seem to get the words out. I don’t understand it myself.

  Why can’t I tell him? I wonder.

  Logan sees the hesitation in my eyes, regains some hope and takes two steps forward before I could react, catching me off guard. “You have to talk to me. I’m not a mind reader.”

  That’s when I realize why I’m being stubborn about it; I want him to figure it out on his own. If I tell him myself, it will go one of two ways. He will either share my opinion on the mate bond, which is not something I’m willing to face, or he will contradict me, in which case, I will feel like he’s only saying what I want to hear. Neither option is very appealing.

  There are two things I want from him. One involves two words, and the other involves three. I realize it’s not fair of me to expect him to just do what I want without even a hint from me, but I keep thinking that maybe if he figures it out on his own, it will be a sign that I’m wrong and that he does have feelings for me.

  “I need to go,” I finally speak.

  Logan’s face falls. “No, Dylan, come on.”

  I shake my head and turn away. He grabs my wrist, sending a shock wave through my body. His too, I guess, since he pulls away almost as suddenly as he caught me and stares at his hand in surprise.

  He recovers quickly, though. “Just talk to me,” he begs. “We can work this out, whatever this is.”

  I sigh, and try to think up a good enough excuse. “Look, it’s been a really long month for me. I need a break. Badly. Tomorrow’s my graduation, and I want to be able to have fun. I’m sorry, but I just can’t han
dle this right now.”

  He takes a moment to examine my face, and I wait him out while he thinks, not wanting to show a hint of what I’m feeling and betray the mask I’ve grown so used to wearing.

  “Okay, fine, I’ll leave you alone to have a nice graduation,” he shockingly agrees. “But I have two conditions.”

  My suspicion flares, and I narrow my eyes. “Which are?”

  “First is that we will talk about this the day after,” he says with determination.

  I know exactly how to sidestep that. “What’s the second condition?”

  For the first time in what feels like forever, he smiles a genuine smile. “You ditch your school prom and let us throw you a party at the pack house.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t think the pack would appreciate that. They all hate me.”

  He seems surprised by that. “No one hates you,” he assures me. “I mean, Jason is perhaps the only one who… doesn’t really like you, because, you know, you drove his sister away and all. But the others, even my uncle Cliff, I promise you, they don’t hate you.”

  Bringing up his cousin reminds me of Reena. She’s still missing, and I’ve been kind of worried that she would find someone to tell my secret to. I mean, I don’t think anyone would believe her, humans or werewolves, but she could bring someone back here for proof. This is one thing I’m really scared of.

  “Hey, I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry about it,” Logan says. “We found Reena a few days ago.”

  My eyes widen. “You did? How? Where is she?”

  Did she give me up yet? I want to add. Has your lying, cheating ex exposed me?

  He shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, what matters is that she’s someplace safe where she can’t tell anyone your secret, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  I frown, anxious in spite of his reassurance. “But she’s been missing for several days,” I remind him. “She could have told someone during that time.”