Masquerade (11 page)

“
Smells great!” Kimber said
enthusiastically.

“
Coming,” I told
Mom.

When she was gone we both burst out
laughing. “Thanks for staying,” I said, wiping my eyes.

“
After everything I’ve
done, I think eating your mom’s chicken is a fitting
punishment.”

“
I think it’s a bit harsh,
but I am glad you’re staying.”

“
Maybe it will be edible,”
she whispered as we left my room.

“
Don’t count on it, but it
won’t stop her from making it again!”

After Kimber left, Mom and
I were in the kitchen cleaning up, and I was lost in thought,
thinking about the time I spent with Sam earlier.

“
I forgot to mention that I
signed you up to help serve at the pancake brunch after the early
morning service tomorrow at church.”

I stifled a groan as I dried a glass
and put it away in the cupboard. “Can I work in the kitchen
instead?”

“
I think interacting with
the church members will be good for you.”

I dried another glass and put it away.
I hated being in a large crowd, and she knew it. All I could think
of was what everyone was saying about me behind my back.

“
So how are things lately?”
she asked, assuming that everything was settled for tomorrow. I
guess it was.

“
Great.”

“
Still having those
nightmares?”

“
Not as often.” Actually I
had them just as much as always, but I felt it was somehow
important to make light of them.

“
Any more memories from
that night?”

“
No.” Why would she bring
this up? She knew it upset me not being able to remember how I got
this way.

“
I was talking to Father
Mike and he was saying that he thought maybe you might be
repressing the memories because…”

I cut her off, angry. “Because I am
too traumatized to remember. I know, Mom.”

“
Actually, I was going to
say because deep down you fear that you did something to cause what
happened to you.”

A plate slipped out of my hand and hit
the floor breaking in half. “Crap!” I bent to pick up the pieces.
“Sorry.”

She ignored the plate, watching
me.

“
I don’t think I caused the
accident.”

“
No?”

“
How could I?”

“
You were on your way home
from the library that night?”

“
Yes!” Why did she seem to
doubt this?

“
It was late.”

“
Ms. Agnes stayed open late
for me, Mom. I had that paper due.”

“
That was very kind of
her.”

“
Don’t you believe
me?”

“
Of course I do,” she
smiled. “I just want to make sure you don’t blame
yourself.”

“
I don’t.”

“
Well, good. So about the
cheering…”

“
I don’t think I want to do
it.” I rushed to say.

“
Well, that’s probably a
good idea. They need some volunteers down at church with the
preschool class, and I thought you could help out. Too much on your
plate and your grades could suffer.”

I made a sound of agreement. Why did
everything have to center around church these days? I finished
drying the dishes and put them away. “I’m going to bed.”

Mom came over and hugged me. “I’m
proud of you. You’ve made a good choice. Love you.”

“
Love you too,
Mom.”

As I went to my room I wondered what
she would have said if I’d chosen to return to cheering, and what
she would say about Sam.

The pancake dinner was a madhouse, and
the crowd exhausted me. When Mom announced that she was going to
stay and help the treasurer with the receipts and log book, I
figured I was doomed for another few hours. But I was saved when
Mom handed me the keys to the car and told me that she would get a
ride home when she was finished.

Once home I went straight upstairs and
did something rare. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail on top of
my head. It was driving me crazy, and I was alone with no one to
stare at my face. Then I changed into a pair of knit yoga pants and
a tee. I just wanted to be comfortable and not care about what I
looked like. I settled on the couch with a blanket and the remote.
A few minutes into channel surfing the doorbell rang. I figured
that Mom forgot her key and ran to answer the door.

Sam stood on the porch.
“Hi.”

“
Hi.” I stared at him,
taking in his golden hair and the clean lines of his
face.

“
Is this a bad
time?”

“
No! Sorry, come in.” I
opened the door wider, and he brushed by me sending electric jolts
through my body.

“
My mom is at church,” I
stuttered.

“
You’re alone?” he asked
like he already knew.

I nodded sending my ponytail into a
bounce. I froze, remembering my appearance. I reached up to yank
down my hair.

“
Leave it,” he said
softly.

I went to pull it down
anyway, Kimber’s voice floating through my brain
you should start putting your products to
use.

Sam appeared in front of me, his hand
reaching up to pull my hand away, fingers entwining with mine. “I
like seeing your face.”

“
It’s ugly.”

“
It’s
beautiful.”

I shook my head and ducked my face. He
used our entwined hands to lift my chin. “I like looking at
you.”

“
What’s wrong with
you?”

A wary look crossed behind his eyes.
“What do you mean?”

“
You’re too good for
me.”

He frowned. “That isn’t
true.”

I went to the couch and sat down,
tucking the blanket over my lap to hide my outfit. Sam followed,
sitting next to me, so I turned, resting my cheek against the back
of the sofa and bringing my knee up between us.

He reached out and tucked a
stray hair behind my ear leaving his fingertips to linger near my
face. Very slowly, his fingers moved up my jaw and my stomach
clenched, knowing what he intended. I sat there debating whether or
not to allow it. His touch was feather light, and his eyes held no
disgust, so I watched him as his fingers moved upward just grazing
the bottom of my
biggest
scar
. Holding my eyes, gently he traced
the jagged outline and explored the raised puckered parts. He never
once seemed grossed out. He actually looked sad and regretful. I
closed my eyes to his emotions because my own were more than enough
to cope with. No one had ever touched me like this. I didn’t want
them too. Until now. It was sweet and made me feel not so
ugly.

His fingers didn’t linger on the scars
but I felt the pad of his thumb brush against the underside of my
bottom lip. My eyes opened. “Why are you here?” I
whispered.

“
I forgot something
yesterday.”

“
You did?”

He nodded, leaned forward and I froze,
the bottom falling out of my stomach. He was going to kiss
me.

His lips brushed over mine once, and
he pulled back a fraction before returning to settle them over mine
again. He kept his body exactly where it was, but I was completely
enveloped by him. His hand moved to the side of my neck and
stopped, but his lips moved over mine softly, again and again.
Every part of me hummed and vibrated, and something inside urged me
to get closer that this wasn’t enough. Yet, I was so entranced by
him I couldn’t move. I don’t know how long we stayed like that,
every part of us unmoving except for our lips, but the whole time I
prayed that it would never end. Of course, it had to.

He pulled back enough to rest the side
of his face against the couch, mirroring my position. The lightning
storm of gold in his eyes was beautiful, but deep down a voice
wondered if it was natural. I pushed the thought away because I
wouldn’t let anything spoil this moment. “Heven,” he rasped, his
fingers caressing me once more. “What happened to you?”

“
I don’t
remember.”

“
Nothing?”

“
I was attacked walking
home one night from the library, and I woke up in the hospital like
this.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
It’s not your
fault.”

He pulled away. “I should
go.”

I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Why did you
really come here?” What had I done to make him want to
leave?

“
I wanted to see
you.”

I glanced at the clock. “I have awhile
yet before my mom gets home. Can you stay?”

That lonely look flashed through his
eyes, but then his lips tilted up. “Yeah.”

He sat back and spread his arms along
the back of the couch. I sat up and scooted closer, resting my head
against his chest, wondering if the butterflies in my stomach would
ever settle. I kind of hoped they wouldn’t.

Chapter Eight

Heven

I stared at the clock as I
trudged into seventh period. This crappy Monday was almost over; it
seemed like the longest one yet. Sam didn’t stay long enough
yesterday. For once Mom finished her work at the church early, and
he had to go. I spent the rest of the day doing homework and
spending time with Mom. When I went to bed I was haunted with the
same nightmare as always, except this time Sam’s creepy roommates
were the ones chasing me down the street. When they caught up and
tackled me they stared down with flashing gold eyes. I woke up at
five drenched in
sweat with a pounding
heart. I knew that if I closed my eyes again I would once again be
haunted by flashing gold eyes and taunting laughter. Instead I lay
in bed staring at the ceiling and replayed Sam’s kiss over and over
in my mind. The memory was enough to chase away the worst of my
nightmare.

I looked at the clock
again, wondering if I had enough time to sneak out in the hall and
call Grandma to beg her to pick me up after school so I could spend
some time with Jasper. But then the bell rang, and I saw Sam slip
inside the door and move to his seat. It was the first I had seen
of him all day. Yet another reason this day had been so endless. I
stared at him, and his eyes flicked up to mine. He didn’t smile or
wave, but his eyes flashed gold. Scenes from my nightmare
flashed before me, and I hurried to turn away in
my seat. My reaction confused me. Sometimes I caught glimpses of a
Sam that frightened me, sensed some kind of self-contained violence
that made me wonder if I should be afraid. I wondered if I really
knew him. But then he was around, that automatic feeling of safety
would spread over me, and I would feel silly for ever thinking that
I was in danger with him.

Mrs. Cooper hurried in carrying a bag
of measuring spoons and a stack of papers. “Today we will break
into our cooking groups and attempt to make this recipe.” She held
up the stack of papers.

Great. Just what I didn’t want to do.
With my luck we’d be cooking chicken.

“
We’ll be making mini
pizzas on English muffins.”

Eww.

“
With a barbeque chicken
topping!”

Double Eww.

“
Everyone go to your
cooking stations, and I’ll pass out the recipe.”

Everyone in my station was absent
except for Emily Hall, the biggest gossip in our class. Resolved to
get this over with, I began doling out paper plates and plastic
silverware so we could get started. Mrs. Cooper came over with a
recipe, Sam trailing behind her.

“
Girls, since most of your
table is absent, Sam will be joining you today.”

A little thrill went through
me.

“
Since he’s new he doesn’t
have a group yet.” She turned to Sam and handed him the recipe.
“This is your cooking group for the rest of the year.”

He moved to stand by me.

“
I thought you were absent
today,” I accused when the teacher moved away.

“
Been here all
day.”

“
Why weren’t you at lunch?”
Too late, I realized that I’d just practically told him I was
waiting for him.

He cleared his throat and his eyes
slid to our audience. Emily was staring straight at us with her
mouth open. Great. Who knew what would be all over school by
tomorrow.

“
Aren’t you dating Kimber?”
she asked Sam.

“
No
!” we
both answered
quickly.

“
Are you dating?” she asked
us, a glint in her eyes. Sam shut his mouth and turned to me,
lifting his eyebrow.

“
No,” I answered
quietly.

“
She won’t have me,” Sam
told Emily.

Emily gasped and turned to
me.

“
That isn’t true,” I
assured her.