by Ruby Vincent
The part of his face I could see curled into a smile. “Val, I was hoping to find you.” He didn’t move his hand from my back.
“Why? To give me more homework?” I teased.
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “To ask you to dance.”
I blinked. “Dance?”
“That’s right.” He tilted his head toward the middle of the room. “This song is my favorite. Dance with me.”
He was leading me off before I could give an answer, but it didn’t occur to me to say no. I didn’t recognize the song, but it was a slow one playing for a thin crowd. Students were still filing in and only a few had made their way to the dance floor.
We stepped past them until we reached the middle of the dance floor. Ezra spun me around, keeping one hand on the small of my back, and with the other, he grasped my fingers and linked them together. I expected him to pull us closer but instead he maintained a polite distance: the perfect gentleman.
I didn't do much waltzing in my old life, but he was a good leader. We swayed smoothly without stepping on each other's toes, and the hand on my back stayed firm. It didn’t slide up or down, and yet, I was highly aware of it. It felt like his touch was burning through the fabric of my dress and radiating inside of me. I was warm, jittery, and I couldn't think about anything but that hand, or his penetrating gaze.
I should say something. I knew I should say something but I didn’t know what.
“So...you can dance?”
Stupid.
Ezra inclined his head. “I had to learn to go to my mom’s banquets and award dinners. You get quite an education to prepare for the spotlight.”
“I've read a few of your mom's articles, seen her segments, and that was before I knew who you were. She's amazing.”
“That she is,” he said simply.
I studied him. There was nothing on his face to say if he really agreed or if he was saying what you’re supposed to. It wasn’t the first time I had that thought. Sometimes I thought I was getting flashes of the real Ezra... and other times I wondered if that was just what I wanted to believe.
That thought pushed my next comment from my lips. “They say that's why you’re such a perfectionist. Because you're trying to make sure your image is as perfect as the one you need to take her place. Smiling, put together, rigid.” A picture was forming in my mind. “A mannequin.”
Yes, that was it. If Ryder was the Greek statue with a face of chiseled beauty and a heart of stone, Ezra Lennox was the mannequin—living out a plastic life that exists only to be on display for others.
He laughed. “A mannequin? Ouch. And here I thought you were going to be nice to me for once.”
“For once? What are you talking about? Since when have I ever not been nice to you? I think you have this relationship turned around.”
A smile played at his lips. “Are you kidding? You're always pushing me away, telling me off for getting in your space, and refusing to share. And now you’re calling me a mannequin. I’m starting to think you don’t like me very much, Valentina.”
“I do like you,” I blurted. I winced internally as his brows climbed his forehead. It came out before I could stop it, but now it was hanging in the air between us. I had to keep going. “I didn’t mean what I said as an insult. I understand showing a different face to the world,” I whispered. “Not everyone can... or should... see what’s beneath.”
Ezra stopped dancing, just for a moment, but the pause let me know my words had struck him.
I was getting too heavy—saying too much, but instead of heeding the warning in my mind, I pushed forward. “I see the guy that works really hard to help me. I see the guy who likes weird-flavored sodas, and secretly has a raunchy sense of humor. You’re not as perfect as you appear.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“A good thing,” I replied. “Everyone else can see the plastic person, Ezra, but I can see more. I want to see more. I’ve always known perfect doesn't exist.”
Ezra’s eyes glided over my face—a slow, lazy sweep that didn’t hide what he was doing. “I wouldn't say that.”
He smiled at me, and one tugged at my lips until I was doing the same.
It wasn't a conscious thought. One moment my hand was in his, and then I was sliding it up his arm and draping it around his neck.
The melody swirled around us, blocking everything out and plunging me into a world where there was only me and him, dancing much too far apart.
I don't know who closed the distance first. But in the next breath, my body was pressed against his and, in the other, were my lips.
It was a chaste kiss—a butterfly kiss is what Olivia would have called it. So light you don’t notice it at first, but when you do, their presence delights. I knew about butterfly kisses, but what I didn’t know was the zinging electricity that would surge through my body. It lit my every nerve on fire—a heat that was the complete opposite of the tender kiss—and I broke apart with a gasp.
We were both panting. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure the entire room could hear it. What was that? I had never felt anything like that. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like that. I wanted to do it again, and run as far as possible at the same time.
I chanced a look around and saw no one looking in our direction. A hand on my cheek brought me back.
“Is something wrong?”
“I...” I shouldn’t have done that. You’re not the only one wearing a mask. But unlike yours, there is nothing good hiding beneath mine.
I took a breath. “Ezra, I—”
“Alright, alright, alright!” I half jumped out of my skin. Jaxson had taken his place on stage and, as if that was the cue, kids began surging onto the dance floor—bumping into us as they descended on the stage. “Enough of this shit, time for some real music!”
Ezra shook his head. “This guy. I bet that was on purpose.”
“On purpose?” I pressed a finger to my lips. “Because you...”
He met my gaze head-on. “Kissed you? Likely. The guy hasn’t shut up about you since you got here. I think he was hoping to steal your first kiss.”
“Who said it was my first?” I shot back, cheeks warming. I looked up at Jaxson, but if he was watching me, I couldn’t tell through his green mask. “I hope this doesn’t start some stupid war between you guys.”
“Us?” He appeared thrown by the very idea. “Jaxson wouldn’t turn on me for that. It’ll take a lot more to get rid of that guy. We can handle liking the same girl.”
Goodness, Ezra was so unnaturally blunt. “You guys do seem pretty close,” I replied, not ready to touch the idea of him and Jaxson liking me. “All four of you.” The question had been pressing on my mind and I couldn’t resist the chance to ask. “How did you become friends? I can’t think of people more different than the four of you.”
Ezra’s face changed. It was so subtle; I don’t think anyone else would have noticed. Suddenly, the wide genuine smile was replaced with the one I was realizing was fake. “Never thought much about it,” he replied. “We’re friends. That’s it.”
His hand shot out and snagged mine. “But do you really want to talk about them when there is something much more interesting we could be doing?” Ezra placed his hand on the back of my neck and leaned in.
“Wait.” I turned my head away. “Not like this.”
Ezra slowly dropped his hands, backing away. He didn’t ask me what I meant.
I looked in his eyes and a million things sprang to my lips—all my mixed-up thoughts on how I felt, or thought I felt, and what I wanted, or thought I wanted. It all begged to come out.
I looked at him... then I picked up my dress and walked away. Ezra didn’t come after me.
I freed myself from the grip of the crowd and stumbled off the dance floor. The effects of the kiss lingered. My body was overly warm and my lips tingled like I had put on too much peppermint lip gloss.
I ran straight to the food table and the bowl of co
ol fruit punch. I was downing my third cup when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Val, you okay?”
I didn’t speak or turn to face Sofia. I just shook my head.
She grabbed my hand when I reached for the ladle a fourth time. “You might want to slow down. It’s probably spiked.”
“What?” I lurched away, slapping a hand to my throat.
Sofia caught me and spun me to face her. “Relax. I don’t know for sure,” she yelled over the music. Jaxson was ramping it up. “It’s still early so they might not have gotten to it yet. But what’s this look on your face? Did something happen with Ezra?”
“Yes, we kissed, but I shouldn’t have done it.” The words poured from my lips. “I told you I wasn’t ready for anything and he basically admitted to liking me, but then I ran off and—”
Sofia tapped her ear, giving me a clueless look. “I can’t hear you!” she shouted. “What did you say?”
I looked around quick and spotted a slight part in the curtains. “Come on!” I grabbed her hand and tugged. We weaved through the bodies as I made for a quieter spot. I passed by someone and reached for the curtains.
“Hey,” they cried after me. “There’s a line!”
Ignoring him, we were plunged into darkness as we slipped inside. “Okay,” I began. “We were dancing and then—”
“Someone is eager.”
I clapped my mouth shut, spinning around to find the source of the voice. “Who’s there?”
“Who else but Madame Shari? You may come in.”
Come in? I crept forward, my eyes adjusting to pierce the gloom, and slowly I put my hand out...
...and it passed through another break in the curtains. The act allowed a shimmer of light to come through and I pushed on, stepping inside.
It felt as though I stepped into another world. Gone were the hidden faces and sweeping strobe’s spotlight, in here a soft glow emanated from the fairy lights woven through the dark red drapes. Squashy gold and black cushions surrounded a small table placed in the middle of the space, and sitting at that table was a thin woman with kohl-rimmed eyes and heavy makeup.
Her lips curled into a smile. “Ah. It’s you. I was hoping you’d come.” She swept out her hand. “You may sit down.”
Sofia laughed. “We’re not here for this. We just needed a place to talk.”
“Well, while you’re here...”
“It’s cool,” I interrupted. Postponing a talk about my mixed-up feelings wasn’t the worst thing. “We’re here so I’ll give it a try. What do you want me to do?”
“Sit down, Valentina.”
Sofia heaved a sigh. “I’m going to catch up with Jeremiah. Find me when you’re done.” She left and I took my seat.
Madame Shari smiled at me from across the table.
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
“Don’t be too impressed. I was given names and pictures beforehand to add to the effect.” I was surprised to receive such an honest answer. “But the rest, I will learn from you. I will see through to your soul and know the struggles that lie ahead, and in the past.” Madame Shari lifted her hands and resting on her palm was a stack of cards. “After tonight... you will too.”
“Right, so you want me to pick a card. Bring ’em on.”
She leaned forward and fanned the cards out on the damask cloth. They were beautiful, hand-painted works of art in a swirly red and gold design that shimmer in the lights.
Her voice came to me in a whisper. “Choose three.”
I placed my finger on the cards and one by one slid them toward her. She flipped over the card in the middle.
“The Magician,” she announced. “Strong, powerful, resourceful and... deceitful.”
“What does that—”
She flipped over the card to my right. “The High Priestess. Secrets. Tells of things that are not yet known, but vital for the path ahead.”
I frowned at her. The air was becoming thick—cloying. I suddenly felt penned in by all these drapes.
“And last,” she spoke in hushed tones. She picked the final card up with red-painted fingernails and flipped it on its back. A man wearing brightly colored clothes and a foolish grin stared back at me. “The Fool.”
“And?” I met her eyes, but she didn’t reply. “What does it mean?”
The silence spread between us like spilled tea, and with every second, I grew more weirded out. “Are you going to say—?”
“Valentina, have you ever heard of Walter McMillian?”
I blinked at this change in topic. “Walter McMillian? No, I have no clue who that is.”
“He was a student here. He won the first ever scholarship to Evergreen Academy. Smart. Tough. Well-liked.”
“I’m sorry.” I held up a hand. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“But Walter,” she plowed on, “he didn’t know the rules— No, he knew the rules, but he thought he didn’t have to follow them. He didn’t understand the world he stepped into was nothing like the one he left.”
Pinpricks of sweat dotted my forehead. I fanned myself as I fidgeted on the cushion.
“Walter wanted change but quae sequenda traditio. Trad—”
“Tradition is everything.”
She smiled at me. “That’s right. And as tradition demanded, when Walter wouldn’t fall back in line, they had to act.”
I leaned forward, bumping my chest against the table. “Who’s they?”
“It doesn’t matter so much as what happened next. You see, brave little Walter was killed.”
My nails dug into the cloth. “Killed? You mean—”
“Murdered,” she stated blankly. “And the mark he left on the legacy of Evergreen was wiped out.”
Irritation bubbled in the pit of my stomach. “Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with my fortune?”
“Everything.” Madame Shari looked down at the overturned cards. “The Magician. The High Priestess. The Fool. You need to be strong, Valentina. Quick, intelligent, and not afraid to fight because”—she slid the Fool card toward me—“you’re destined to share Walter’s fate.”
I lurched to my feet. “That’s not funny! What’s wrong with you? You’re taking this game a little too far.”
She shrugged. I wasn’t finding her smile so pleasant now. “You don’t believe me. Why? It’s not so strange that you would share the same fate as Walter... you already share his room.”
I turned and walked out. The heat, the swallowing drapes, that creepy dead-eyed stare were all too much. I needed to get out.
I swept out into the gym. My dress wrinkled in my fists as I sped for the doors, picking up the pace as I got nearer. The band around my chest tightened as my breaths came in shorter pants.
“You see... brave little Walter was killed.”
Bursting through the doors, I sucked in deep lungfuls as the night air smacked my feverish face. I didn’t stop. My feet took me around the building toward the door to the roof.
I just need a few minutes, and then I’ll—
I rounded the corner and slammed into a warm body.
“Ow!” I cried.
Large hands encircled my forearms, steadying me. “Valentina? What are you doing out here?”
My head snapped up. “Maverick?”
It was him—standing before me in an incredible tux that screamed money as loud as it screamed what a great body he had, molding to the curves of his muscles like it was painted on. Maverick wasn’t wearing a mask which allowed me the perfect look at the surprise breaking through his normally blank features.
“What are you doing out here?” he repeated.
“I just...” How did I begin to explain my night or my reasons for needing to get away? “I needed some air. Why are you out here?”
He dropped his hands and I found myself missing the loss. “Same,” he said simply.
Maverick backed up and propped himself on the door I was looking to get through. I considered as
king him to move, but going up there would reveal our secret spot. Instead, I moved over to him and adopted his position.
“It’s spooky out here.” I rubbed my arms where his hands had been. The skin was prickling. “But the peace and quiet is nice.”
I fixed my eyes on the side of his face, but he didn’t turn to look at me. Before us loomed the thick copse of trees that made up the woods surrounding the academy.
I lightly hip-checked him. “You don’t like parties, do you?”
He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. “No,” he said after the silence had grown almost unbearable. “Too much noise. Too many people.”
“There’s a lot of noise and people at soccer and football games, but yet, you’re captain of both teams—dominating the field.”
“That’s different,” he protested. “When I’m playing it’s like— it’s like—” I sensed his frustration as he tried to explain. “It’s like when building a hard drive or writing code or... never mind.”
I picked up where he gave up. “It’s like you’re in control.”
His head twisted around, facing me. I went on. “I get that. It’s like... when I’m dancing I don’t care who’s watching me or what they’re thinking. It’s the only time I feel I know exactly what I’m doing.” I laughed. “But put me in front of a class full of people to present my crappy art project, I near wet myself.”
Maverick chuckled, a lopsided smile breaking through. “Your painting wasn’t that bad.”
I sighed. “I don’t think people got it.” The end of October had come which meant we had to reveal the paintings we had done of each other. My bright idea had been to paint Maverick with his chest cracked open to reveal gears and wires inside. Even with lessons from Scarlett twice a week, half the class screwed up their faces squinting at the canvas. “I didn’t mean it like you were cold or robotic. It’s just one of the things I like about you is how you can see the potential in things.”
He blinked. “Like about me?”
“You don’t see a cell phone; you see a button cam or a remote. All the things it could be.” My mouth was running full speed with no sign of slowing down. “And that’s what I think when I see you. That if I open you up, I’ll discover what makes you tick and all the parts that make you who you are and...”