2 6
The Masquerade
The next two weeks fly by.
It's as if I'm in some sort of trance, oblivious to everything and everyone around me.
The reasoning for this?
Jalen Vincenzo Uccello.
After our talk in my backyard, Jalen convinced me he was all in, and he successfully washed away any lingering doubts by proving just that.
Every night ended with a phone call between us, no matter the time or day or what each of us had been up to before. One of us always called, and the other always answered, and neither of us closed our eyes for the night without hearing the other's voiceâeven if only for one minute.
The first few days back to lunch had been rocky, as both Jalen and I struggled to be with one another while being with everyone else. We've been sitting with the group occasionally, but the truth is, I prefer our alternative: sneaking off to the bleachers.
Slowly, Jalen's begun liking that idea better, too, because we spent every day this last week running off to the bleachers when David or Dedra or Malia or any of the rest aren't paying attention.
David had of course called out for us, shouting out something I didn't pick up on. Whether Jalen had heard him or not, he chose to turn around and flashed him a smirk, before grabbing my hand and walking toward the doors faster.
Neither of us looked back after that, and that marked the last day we even considered trying to still sit with them all.
I'm realizing we're better when we're on our own. I'm not sure how healthy or okay that is, all I know is I prefer having Jalen all to myself.
Sounds selfish, and maybe a little too needy, but who could blame me? We work better when it's just us, and I know for a fact that these last two weeks have been some of the best of my life because I spent them with only him.
Between the late night calls, and the alone time on the bleachers, and purposely missing a ride with Noah so Jalen could take me to and from school, and spending any chance I could sneaking into his houseâit's clear things go great when we're alone.
Unfortunately, a few other things are becoming clearer as well.
The relationship Jalen has with his parents is alarming.
I knew it was never normal, because, really, who uses their child as a pawn in order to gain more money? That whole situation with Cortney and her parents already showed me how insane his family is. But being in their house, especially when I'm not supposed to be, shows a whole other perspective.
Cortney and the arrangement they made is just Jalen's parents way of trying to control him. But how they treat him, how they talk to him and make him feel, is something else. That's not control. That's some mentally abusive shit.
Anytime Jalen even thinks he hears his parents, or believes they could be on their way home, his whole demeanor changes.
The few times his mother did stumble into the room, Jalen had rushed me into a hiding spot, panic overtaking his eyes. But the second he faced his mother, none of that showed.
Jalen remained stoic and still, unwavering under her intense glare. A completely different person, someone I couldn't recognize, and truthfully, never want to meet.
It made me wonder if Jalen only worries that they'll find me in his room again, or if he truly is that good at lying and faking his emotions.
He had only faltered once in the three times his mother barged into his room, and that had only happened when she uttered my name. Jalen had quickly composed himself, and answered her question, happily informing her that we were still dating.
But it was clear she wasn't buying it, or at least not seeing it as anything serious to worry about, since she hadn't seen me since that disastrous dinner.
This is when Jalen concocted, as he called, a fucking genius idea, which is to throw a New Years Eve party, here, at his damn house, in order to show his parents that we're still going strong.
Hearing the words party and parents coming from him didn't make me feel good at all, already knowing not a damn thing will go okay when either of those things are involved.
But Jalen had flashed me that dimpled smile, taking my hand in his as he flashes me those soft, blue eyes, and murmured the words please, baby. I was a goner after that, and I still fucking am.
This is the second thing that's become clearer in the last two weeks: just how much of an effect Jalen Vincenzo Uccello has on me.
Whether we're on the phone, on the bleachers, locked up in his room as I help him with his reading abilitiesâsomething he used to hate, but I personally think he's starting to enjoy Ms. Prince's Reading Lessons, no matter how much he complainsâor doing other things in the privacy of his bedroom, it's clear how attached I've grown, how overly comfortable and excited and giddy I become when he's involved.
It's clear with the churning of my stomach every time he looks at me, the racing of my heart at his simplest touch, the tingling in my chest when he just smiles at me.
Sometimes the feelings are too overwhelming, and I get worried they'll cloud my judgement. Part of me feels like they already have.
Just the other day, in the halls, I heard more rumors surrounding Jalen. I usually try to ignore them, especially since most of them revolve around our relationship, but this particular one was only about Jalen, and it took me back to my beginning days at Arlin Preparatory.
"I wonder if Jalen is still the devirginizer."
"Come on, you know he is. Cortney, Elena, Malia, Lyndon... none of those girls can change him."
Bile had rose to my throat at that, and it returns in full force whenever I remember it.
But I'm choosing to not harp on it. Devirginizer implies he... well, only sleeps with girls so he can take their virginity. That's fucking disgusting, but that's certainly not the case with us. I wasn't a virgin when we slept together, andânot to bragâbut that didn't need to be said out loud. I'm one hundred percent sure Jalen was able to tell I wasn't inexperienced.
If there's anything I've learned since moving here, it's that overthinking is unnecessary. Some things don't need to be addressed. Being at a school like Arlin Preparatory and being with someone like Jalen proves that.
Overthinking and harping on every word you hear will kill youâfiguratively and literally.
I've always had a bad habit of making myself crazy with the different scenarios my mind can conjure up. It seems like the students at school can do that all on their own, so I don't need to help them by adding fuel to the fire.
I'm turning a new leaf, onto a new pageâwhatever the fucking saying is. Point is, I'm done making a big deal out of everything.
Well, at least I hope I am.
Agreeing to throw this party with Jalen at his parents' house is step one, and it's a pretty big fucking step.
I should be running off or refusing to come out of the room the maids directed me to get ready in, but instead, I put on the short, silvery dress I bought three days ago for this occasion, and I'm still here, waiting for Jalen to come to the door.
I am calm, and not going to freak out at all.
A knock sounds on the door just as one of the stylists finishes curling the few strands of hair that weren't included in the updo they did for me.
Oh shit, what if that's his mom at the door?
No, no, no. No panicking, Lyndon.
Telling myself not to panic doesn't stop my stomach from churning as one of the maids move to open the door. The feeling goes away when I see Jalen on the other side.
A new feeling overcomes me, and though it's just as nerve racking as the first, it's the good kind.
Jalen gets more good looking by the day, it's unfair. He's dressed in all black, save for the white shirt under his suit jacket, and he has strands of his hair resting perfectly on his forehead in an effortless look. His jaw is sharp and tense, pink lips parted and eyes wide as he takes me in, the way I am him.
He reaches me in two large steps, and I quickly rise from my seat, once again in a trance now that he's around.
"Lyndon, you... fuck..." he pauses to mutter under his breath, voice deep and low. "You look so beautiful."
"Thank you," I manage to say, barely able to get any words out. "I love that suit on you."
Hold up... love?
Jalen smirks at me, and though I've never liked the sinister expression, I've come to accept that it suits him well, especially when he's dressed like this.
"Thank you, baby." He brings his hand up, making me realize he's holding a mask. "Now to complete the look."
"Wait a minute," I say, taking a step back when he brings the mask to my face. "What is this?"
"It's a masquerade party," he tells me.
"What the fuck? Why?"
"Uh, I think the better question is why this would bother you so much?" he asks amusedly, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"It doesn't bother me, I just didn't know." I take a moment to glance at the mask he's holding. It's the same silver as my dress, and unless I'm seeing things, there's little diamonds scattered all around. Knowing Jalen, it's safe to assume they're real. "Where's your mask?"
"Right," he announces, reaching into his suit jacket, "here."
It's black, of course, with traces of gold outlining the sides. When he holds them up side by side, in front of the bottom of his face, I see that they match. They're the same size and style, and both have a transparency to them on the top, meaning once we put them on, only around our eyes will truly be covered. Most of our face will still be visible.
"His and hers," I comment.
He smiles. "Couldn't have it any other way."
A stupid grin ovetakes my face as I turn away from him, signalling for him to put the mask on me. He does, gently, as not to mess up my hair. I probably should have advised the many hair stylists he hired for me to help, but I just want Jalen to do it, and seeing as he quickly places it on my face and ties it, he wanted to do it too.
When I turn around, he makes a puzzled face. "Lyndon?"
"You're so dumb," I say with a laugh, shoving him lightly.
I take pleasure in the way he laughs too, no longer offended by the joke. By now, he has to know I don't mean it, not after all the time we've spent in his room, with me sounding out letters and words for him, just to help him become more confident.
He lifts his mask into the air, and once I take it, he turns around. I follow his actions of tying his mask for him. When he faces me, we both smile. Then, he's pulling me toward him, until I'm flush against him, and for a second, I feel awkward knowing the workers are still in the room.
"Are you ready for tonight, baby?"
Not really.
I nod my head. "Let's get this over with."
He chuckles, tightening his hold on my waist. "Come on. Where's the enthusiasm?"
"I forgot it at home."
Jalen shakes his head, removing his arm from me and opting to hold my hand instead as he leads us out of the room.
We pass a mirror in the hallway of his mansion, both pausing to stand in front of it.
Somehow, we're matching one another and looking like complete opposites all at the same time.
We're dressed like day and night, good and bad, light and dark, yet our masks are the same design, and the silver cufflinks on his suit jacket match my dress, and the colors we choseâblack and silverâcomplement each other. Not to mention, standing here with him, it's hard to deny how perfectly I fit into his side.
So, I smile as we continue admiring ourselves. "We look good."
Jalen nods, finding my eyes in the mirror and sending me a smile. "Yeah, we do."
I turn his way, finding his lips easily, as if I could do it with my eyes closed. The kiss lasts several seconds before Jalen's pulling away.
"We have a party to host, Lyndon," he says teasingly.
He reaches for my hand and begins leading me to the grand staircase once more.
Here goes nothing.
ââââââââââ²âââââââââ
"You're doing a great job," Jalen praises after we finish greeting what feels like the hundredth guest of the night.
I feel like I've shook so many hands and flashed so many smiles and happily said so many thank you for coming's in the last hour. Jalen and I have only made it two steps away from the grand staircase we entered through an hour ago. People won't stop greeting us.
"A great job at being the fakest bitch in the room? Why, thank you!"
Jalen frowns at me. "Lyndon..."
"I know, I know, no cursing," I mimic his tone.
He shakes his head, a ghost of a smile present on his face. "Cursing isn't the issue, baby. Looking like you don't want to be here is."
"But I don't want to be here," I say firmly. "And you don't either. This was a dumb idea."
Jalen's brows turn downward, frown coming back to his face. "Hey," he says defensively. "This is the greatest idea ever. My parents haven't left that spot in the corner since the moment we got down here. The fact that they haven't come over to talk to us shows how pissed they are. And why are they pissed? Because they're finally seeing how real this is."
My heart flutters at that, knowing it's true. Aurora's been sending me daggers all this time, but she hasn't come over and said a word. She knows she can't stop this, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep it going.
This is real. Despite how it started and how we got here, Jalen and I finally made it, and I'm not letting anything or anyone get in the way of it.
"Uh, Lyndon?" Jalen hesitantly questions.
"Yeah?" I answer, sounding unsure myself as he usually calls me baby unless something serious is going on.
"Remember when I offered to go with you or at least just pay for you to get a dress specifically designed for tonight?"
I pause, then nod, remembering that stupid converation and almost argument we had over it. In the end, he kind of won, as I went to his special designer, but I didn't let him payâthough I never told him that.
"Yeah, I remember. What about it?" I ask, then step in front of him, successfully bringing his eyes from the crowd to me. "You don't like it? I thought you said I looked good!"
I twirl in front of him, doing a little dance and embarrassingly almost losing my balance due to my too-high heels.
Jalen reaches a hand out to steady me, landing on my waist. He brings his other hand there as well, gently turning me around and pulling me in front of him. The position feels a little too intimate for the audience we have, but glancing around at their either envious or starstruck faces makes me realize it's helping with our we're happy and in love show.
Wait... in love?
"Look straight ahead," Jalen murmurs, bringing his lips to my ear and sending a shiver down my spine at the contact.
I almost can't focus, lost in a fog at the feel of his body behind mine and his lips still hovering so close.
Jalen's hand tightens on my waist, trying to get my attention. I finally listen, looking ahead, and when I do, the fog is gone.
And I am pissed.
"What in the holy mother fuck is going on?" I shout as I pull out of Jalen's hold, swirling around to face him.
"This is why I said you needed to get a dress designed," he answers calmly.
"But I did!" I shout in response. "I swear I did. I went to the place you said. I picked these fabrics and colors and length and everything."
"Are you sure you didn't just choose something already there?" he tries to reason.
I let out a bark of laughter. "Trust me, I sat there for three fucking hours going over every detail. It was a whole lot of fucking work."
"And you paid," he states, dry look on his face. "Really, Lyndon? I said I would. How much was it?"
A fucking lot.
"Money doesn't matter," I say with a wave of my hand. Not like it was mine anyway. Might as well take advantage of my dad's job that he loves more than his family! "What matters is finding out how the fuck this bitch got the same exact dress as me!"
I swirl around, charging toward her direction, but a hand wrapping around my arm stops me.
"What are you gonna do?"
Jalen's blue eyes are shining with curiosity and worry, clearly not wanting me to make a scene.
"She stole my dress, Jalen. I'm not letting this fly."
Not when she's already gotten away with shit like this before.
"Remember who's here and watching, Lyndon," he warns.
My eyes flicker to his parents, who were joined by Cortney's mere minutes ago. She hasn't arrived yet, but I know it's only a matter of time. And despite how important those four are, and her impending arrival is, I can't focus on it or care until this situation is handled.
"I know," I reply. "This'll only take a minute. Maybe two if she gets snarky."
"Which she will," he says, rolling his eyes.
"Excuse me?" I question. "How would you know that?"
"I've known her since we were kids, Lyndon. She's fucking weird. Who knows what she'll pull if you storm up to her."
Being reminded that she knows Jalen, a hell of a lot longer than me, only makes me angrierâeven though that's a stupid reason to get mad over.
"We're about to find the fuck out," I say, storming off after.
I reach her quickly, anger pulsing through me the closer I get.
"Lyndon!" she greets cheerfully.
A scowl remains on my face, arms crossing over my chest as I observe her dress closer, noticing more similarities as I do so.
"What happened, Rach? Couldn't find the matching mask?"
Her hand reaches up to graze over her pure white, non-transparent mask. If she had it over her face instead of resting on her head, I wouldn't have been able to tell it was her.
"Whaâwhat are you talking about?" she stutters.
"Cut the crap, Rachel. We both know what you're doing."
"I... I'm not doing anything," she says with a shake of her head, eyes glancing around at the people beginning to watch us.
So much for not making a scene.
"Are you really going to pretend you haven't been copying me these past few weeks?"
The words sound stupid out loud, like I'm some ten year old arguing at recess, calling her a copy cat and saying I'll tell on you if you don't stop!
Yet, here I am, at seventeen years old. Getting ready to yell at her in front of the larger crowd forming around us.
"I haven't done anything," she squeaks out, avoiding my eyes. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her dress as she keeps glancing at the people watching us, shoulders slouching forward.
She seems nervous, and a littleâno, a lotâembarrassed. Maybe I should stop. Suggest going in private to talk, since she was my first friend here, and this could all just be a misunderstanding.
But Daniel's voice saying he's not sure if she ever got over her Jalen obsession rings in my head, and hearing Jalen say he's known her since they were kids pokes at me.
It seems so stupid to get mad over, and there's certainly nothing to be jealous about, but that petty side of me won't back down.
Besides, she's embarrassing me by popping up in the same dress. Jalen's parents, and even Cortney's, will never take me seriously if I can't even show up in a one of a kind, designer dress for a fucking party I'm hosting.
I get the feeling she's trying to... I don't know, steal my life? Become me? Doesn't make any sense, but it's how I feel. I'm getting angrier by the second, and I need to let it out.
I don't want to be here.
"Dying your hair and straightening it was one thing," I begin, taking a threatening step closer to her. All she does is swallow hard and step back. "Purposely wearing a skirt like me is another, but adding these obvious extensions," I say while reaching for a strand of the hair, knowing damn well her hair didn't grow that fast in such a short amount of time, "is a whole other thing. And now, you made sure to wear the exact same dress as me? A dress I designed myself."
I pause to let that sink in, just in case Jalen's parents are listening. Gotta protect my image.
"Lyndonâ"
"What did you do? Follow me around all day until I went into the shop and finished picking everything? Bribe them to show you it all? Or did you just sit there watching like a fucking freak?"
I hear ooh's from the crowd around us, and I briefly glance to the side to see Jalen's standing behind me, watching with a blank faceâbut there's a glint of amusement in his eyes, and I know him well enough to know if his parents weren't here, and if we didn't have a point to prove, he'd be full on grinning, maybe even laughing.
Rachel looks at the crowd once more, then faces me. Her bottom lip trembles, and she struggles to speak. "I'm... I'm not a freak... a freak. I'm not. I just... can we go talk, Lyn?"
"Don't call me that," I snap, face hardening, reaching a whole other level of pissed at that nickname. "And no, we're not going to talk. You're trying too hard to be like me, and I'm not going to be around somebody like that anymore. It's weird, Rachel. Get your own damn identity."
I give her a few seconds to retort, but all she does is glance toward her feet. Satisfied with ending on that note, I twirl around, toward the crowd that had gathered around us.
"Show's over," I announce in a cherrier voice. "Please enjoy the drinks and appetizers going around. We'll head into the main room for dancing in a little bit."
I accept the arm Jalen reaches out for me, instantly being tucked into his side as he raises a glass of champagne he must've grabbed as I was talking.
"As my beautiful girlfriend just said, the real party will begin shortly. Enjoy," he adds, in the same tone I used. Then, he glances at me and connects our lips in the sweetest kiss.
And just as I think the drama for tonight is over, we pull away and I see it's only just begun.
Cortney enters the room in a bright red dress with a matching mask and my brother on her arm.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
Jalen sends me a questioning look, before following my gaze and understanding.
His hand lands on my lower back, ushering me away from that direction. "Why don't you let me handle this one? Go to the ballroom and get the party started."
I open my mouth to object, before glancing back at them, watching their linked arms. I know if I go there, I'll end up ripping those arms off. Anyway, Cortney was never meant to be my problem. That's all on Jalen.
Noah, however, is mine, but he can get an ass whooping when we get home. No need to mess up my makeup and hair so early into the night.
"Fine. You're overdue for a good confrontation. From what I've heard, you're the master of fights," I joke, though I often find myself wondering if any rumors I've heard about Jalen in fights is true. "Just leave my brother alone, okay? Only deal with Cortney."
Jalen nods, not laughing at my joke or verbally agreeing to anything. Instead, he plants a swift kiss on my lips and heads their way.
I watch for several seconds, before deciding I can't see them together without wanting to either cry or scream.
For some reason, seeing Noah with her feels like an ultimate betrayal. Maybe he doesn't know all the details, but her and her family are a major obstacle in my relationship with Jalen, and she just has to be the girl he decides to hook up with? Come fucking on.
Shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts, I walk into the ballroom, plastering the fakest smile on my face.
"Hey, Lyndon."
And that smile turns into the realest one, before I even turn around and see who it is, already having a feeling just from their calming voice.
Sure enough, it's Elijah, dressed in a navy blue suit with a matching mask resting on his head. I've never seen his wavy hair pushed back like that, but I like it. It looks good on him.
"Hi, Elijah," I respond when he steps closer. "I'm surprised you're here. I usually don't see you at these kinds of things, but I'm still new, so what do I know."
"No, you're not wrong," he says with a light chuckle. "I, uh, don't go out much. These kinds of parties aren't really my thing."
"But, here you are," I point out.
He shrugs nonchalantly. "This one didn't sound too bad."
A smile comes to my face again as I recall handing him the invitation last week, feeling like the bridge of our friendship was slowly mending after whatever awkward phase we went through.
"Good. I hope you have a good time," I tell him, still smiling.
Elijah nods as he observes the crowd, before a smile quickly forms on his face as turns to me again. "Would you like to dance?"
"I love dancing," I reply.
He looks at me expectedly, holding out a hand.
"Oh... oh," I say slowly. "You mean... dancing... with you. Me and you, dancing?"
"Yeah," he responds, chuckling again, and then bringing the hand he once had out to the back of his neck. "Unless you don't want to. You know what, never mind."
My eyes widen as he waves dismissively, taking a step back. "No, no, I want too."
Elijah looks at me, hesitancy clear on his face.
"I love dancing," I repeat, smiling again as I add, "And I'd love to dance with you."
He remains quiet, smiling shyly as he brings his hand up again, and I quickly accept it, taking the lead and walking us to the fairly empty dance floor. I stop and turn to face him, dropping his hand in favor of bringing it up to his shoulder. I worry for a second I'll have to do all the work, but Elijah quickly wakes up and places his hand on my hip, holding lightly, acting as if I'll run off if his touch is any firmer.
We lift our empty hands at the same time, both glancing at one another when our palms touch.
And then we both almost laugh, because for some reason, we cannot take this dance seriously. I'm not sure if its because of any lingering awkwardness from before, or if we're both that immature, but whatever it is, it's definitely got me in a better mood.
"You better not mess up," I say as seriously as I can, despite the laughs threatening to escape me.
Elijah brings his lips together, hiding his laugh. "Don't worry. I got moves, Lyndon."
A bark of laughter escapes me. "Yeah, alright. We'll see about that."
His grip on my hand tightens while his other hand disappears from my hip, and before I can question it, I'm being spinned out and twirled right back into his arms.
"Oh my gosh," I say while laughing. "You cannot do shit like that without warning. Especially with heels like this."
Elijah shakes his head, laughing too, arm coming back to rest on my hip, his hold on me still extremely light.
"It's okay, I got you," he says jokingly.
"Aw, you got me? That makes me feel so much better," I say sarcastically.
Weirdly enough though, it kind of does make me feel better.
Elijah's mouth opens, ready to respond, but he's cut off by the voice of someone who knows how to ruin my good mood by just looking at me.
"Boulevard!" he yells obnoxiously.
"Kill me now," I murmur.
"Hey, now," Elijah says, dropping my hand in favor of lightly gripping my chin. "Death is never the answer."
"Wise words," I comment, flashing him a small smileâwhat I'm sure will be my last smile for a while as David's now standing by us.
"Mind if I cut in, Eli?" he asks, placing a hand on Elijah's shoulder in one of those bro slaps they do. Elijah nods, just as David adds, "I know we all want our time with Jalen's girl."
That makes Elijah's arm drop from me and my stomach sink, unsure if it's from him pulling away, being left alone with David, or being referred to as Jalen's girl.
"We'll catch up later," I assure Elijah as he sends me a hesitant look, knowing dancing with David is the last thing I want to do.
He nods once before saying bye to David and walking away.
I watch him for several more seconds before he disappears in the crowd, and my focus goes to David, who's taken Elijah's place in front of me.
"I'm starting to think you're getting a little too obsessed with me, Davey," I say as he takes my hand in one of his, pulling me closer to him. I let him. "Should Jalen be worried?"
"Oh, he should be," David answers, flashing me a bright grin. "But not because of me."
Unsure of what he's implying, I ask, "Care to elaborate?"
His other hand lands on my hip, hold tighter then the one Elijah had, as he brings us even closer, face to face, chest to chest.
"I think you can figure that one out on your own," he responds. When I remain with a blank face, David tsks and shakes his head. "Come on, Boulevard. Taking all those AP classes means you're supposed to be smart."
"I am smart," I say, narrowing my eyes at him and bringing my other hand to his shoulder. "A hell of a lot smarter than any of you."
I instantly regret the retort, the hardness in my voice, hoping David doesn't pick up on it and harp on it, making it seem as if I'm implying Jalen is dumb.
David smirks at my response, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he says, "Then think about it, Boulevard."
"Think about what, Davey?"
We begin moving to the music, somehow, our dancing a lot more in sync and smoother than Elijah and I's. I have to refrain from rolling my eyes at just how well we move together.
He twirls me the way Elijah did, but when I'm brought back into his arms, I don't stumble, having made sure I maintained my balance, knowing I wouldn't have comforting arms to catch me.
I'm on edge. I always am around David.
He smiles at me, but there's nothing genuine in it. There's an undertone, like he's mocking me.
"You and Jalen," he answers. "Think about him, and think about your relationship. How it began and how it'll end."
"Who said anything about it ending?" I ask, choosing to focus on that rather than the fact that he said how it began.
What does he know?
"Does anyone have to say anything about it ending, for you to know that it will end?"
My heart rate increases, hands growing clammy at where this conversation is going. If David feels my beating heart due to how close we're standing, or feels my sweaty hand slipping from his, he doesn't mention it, or acknowledge it at all. His full focus is on me, and only me.
"Why can't you let us just be happy?" I ask, finally finding my voice. "Why do you always have to make a comment or face, or try to ruin it?"
"I'm not ruining anything. I'm just being honest." He twirls me once more in time with the beat, spinning himself in the process, before we face each other at the same time and he recollects me into his arms. "In fact, I'm being the good guy right now."
"Trying to give me doubts is being the good guy?" I ask rhetorically, not giving him a chance to answer. "Going behind your friend's back and trying to make his girlfriend think their relationship will end is being the good guy?"
"Being the honest one makes me the good guy, Boulevard."
I pause, movements ending, but David doesn't allow it, continuing to move us along to the beat of the low-tempo song.
"Are you trying to tell me Jalen is a liar?" I ask, hating how my voice gets higher at the end.
"Technically, you're both liars," David answers with a shake of his head. "This whole relationship was built on a lie, no?" he adds when he sees my confused face. "Face it, Boulevard, this isn't going to work out."
Despite every past worry and doubt coming back to me in full force the longer he talks, I refuse to listen to him. I refuse to let David be the downfall to Jalen and I's relationship, especially when we're already in the best place we've ever been.
"I'm not leaving him, David," I say firmly. "Whatever you say has no value to me. I don't trust you."
I don't trust him, or the entire school and their rumors. Right now, I'm deciding to trust Jalen, and myself, this instinct I have that's telling me to give him, us, a chance.
David slows our dance down, no longer in step with the music, as he watches me. Then a smile comes his face, and though there's still nothing inviting or comforting about it, it seems genuine and pitiful. Nothing mocking about it.
"You won't come out as the winner here, Lyndon," he declares.
Once again, my movements stop, and this time, David doesn't push me to continue.
I'm not sure if it's the message he's giving or hearing him actually say my name, but it's safe to say... I'm shook.
"And neither will Jalen if this keeps happening," he adds with the same urgency in his tone.
Despite my racing heart and overwhelming urge to throw up, I manage to tell him, "Why don't you worry about your brother, instead?"
It's a cheap shot, especially if he knows what I know about Daniel, but it's still true. David spends so much time in Jalen's business, now in my business, and making sly comments to Malia, but where's all that energy when it comes to his own twin brother? The one I rarely ever see him talking to.
If he understood what I was hinting at, he doesn't show it, instead remaining firm and still.
"Jalen is my brother," he says in a firm voice, finality in his tone.
Before I can respond, unable to even think of a response to that, we're interrupted.
I smell the Chanel No. 5 perfume before I see her, but once Malia is in eyesight, it's annoyingly hard for anyone to miss her. On a regular day she captures everyone's attention, so it shouldn't be a surprise that she does just that when she's wearing a golden dress that looks like it was painted onto her hourglass figure. She sticks out perfectly from the crowd.
"How're things going over here, kids?" she asks in a velvety tone, bringing a hand to each of our shoulders.
"Pretty great, babe," David answers, eyes never leaving her face, not once sweeping over her body. "Well, it was until you came over here. What horrible thing did I do in a past life to have to deal with you now?"
"We both know all your mistakes were made in this life, honey," she answers, removing her hand from my shoulder in favor of pinching David's cheek with it.
He winks at her. "Ain't that the truth. You know firsthand all of my mistakes."
"Don't talk about DeeDee like that," she playfully chides, lightly smacking his cheek, though it's clear the action is meant to cause no damage.
"Mm, when you touch me like that how could I even remember who this DeeDee you speak of is?"
Malia tosses her head back as a dainty laugh leaves her, garnering the attention of the people around us. Her long, black waves reach past her back, and I become annoyed for a second with her.
I won't even linger too long on the fact that her gold dress perfectly matches the gold in Jalen's mask.
Speaking of Jalen, where the fuck is he?
Surely, it doesn't take that long to deal with a problem, even if it is Cortney. Knowing Noah, he'd diffuse the situation before it got out of hand, or just throw a punch at Jalen. But since Jalen's my boyfriend, and I believe he still has some level of respect for me even if he is here with Cortney, I know he won't fight with my boyfriend at a party we're hosting, in public. Which means, Noah either stopped the two from fighting, or... he walked away, to avoid getting involved.
Which also means... Jalen and Cortney could be alone right now.
"Now, if you don't mind, Boulevard and I were enjoying a nice tango before you came over," David says while reaching his arm around me, to secure his hold on my waist.
"I actually do mind," Malia says, eyes shining with amusement as she glances at me. "I've been wanting to get my hands on David all night. Can I steal him?"
"No stealing necessary," I quickly say, dropping my hands from him and then nudging him toward her. He goes pretty easily. "He's all yours, free of charge. Consider it a late Christmas gift."
A sly smile overtakes my cousin's face. "Just what I wanted. A man who has no self respect, yay."
David flashes her a smirk, accepting the hand she holds out for him. "And just what I wanted, a woman who'll literally throw herself at me. Match made in heaven."
"Hm," she hums in agreement, before saying, "As if you'd ever make it up there."
"Why would I want too when I've got a taste of it right here?"
"You better be talking about me and not the unlimited amount of drinks Jalen's providing," she says while raising a dark, perfectly arched brow.
Anything else they say becomes background noise as I'm reminded once again that I haven't seen Jalen in a while.
I begin moving off the dance floor, having to politely say excuse me to all of the Uccello family friends blocking my way. Though I'd honestly prefer just shoving all these fuckers out of my way.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I'm coming closer to the side of the room, where less people are gathered. But that relief is gone when I spot two figures on the other side of the room, by a doorway. My nosey self begs me to completely turn that way, and I do, despite the voice in my head telling me to mind my business.
Turns out, my nosiness was right to push me this way, because I see Jalen, well, the back of JalenâI think. It seems like the same tailored black suit, and though he has on that black and gold mask and his face it too far for me to see his blue eyes, I recognize the silver cufflinks purposely placed on his suit to match my dress.
Just as I'm ready to run over there and throw myself into his arms, wanting to tell him that this party feels like it's lasted ten years, I freeze when I notice the person next to him.
It's a girl, wearing a bright red dress with the matching red lips and mask. Cortney Rousso.
She steps closer to him, reaching for his arm and angling him toward her. He seems to pull away a bit, but whatever she mumbles into his ear has him stop refraining, instead letting her place her hand behind his neck and drag his face down.
When their lips touch, I feel like screaming, then crying, then screaming again as I charge over there and kick their asses.
But all I manage to do is freeze, continuing to watch as they kiss, then pull away, and simultaneously make the decision to leave the ballroom, obviously opting to go somewhere more private.
And the thought leaves my heart crumbling, hands shaking as I try processing what's happening.
Is that really him? Is that really Cortney? Is he really... cheating on me?
It's too much. All of it. I can't handle it, I can barely even fucking breathe right now.
All I know is I need to follow them, I can't let it go any further.
Liam went further than that.
But Jalen isn't Liam... even though what I just saw proves otherwise.
The two move further away, out of the room, and now I'm pushing guests, moving as fast as I can in these fucking heels, trying not to lose sight of them.
But I do lose sight of them, and that's because someone yanks harshly on my arm from behind, almost sending me crash landing onto my ass.
"What?" I yell out as I swirl around.
Daniel stands there, panicked with watery eyes, clutching my arm like it's his lifeline.
"What happened?" I ask, voice not as harsh as before, but still not as friendly.
I need to find Jalen and Cortney.
"Have you seen Noah?" he asks, voice so low I almost don't hear.
"What?" This is what he wants to ask me? "No, I haven't seen him. And I don't care about finding him. I have to go."
"No, Lyndon, wait," he protests, still holding onto my arm firmly.
"Daniel!" I scold. "I can't help you right now! I got my own shit going on!"
I might be getting cheated on... again. And this time, I don't think I'll recover from the pain.
"But..." he says, words trailing off as he glances at the crowd, noticing several pairs of eyes on us. "I think... I think Rachel's spreading rumors that I'm... gay." His voice breaks as he says the words, practically whispering the last one. "IâI don't want Noah hearing, and thinking anything..."
I shake my head, knowing his situation matters and is extremely important, but unable to find a single fuck to give.
I need to find Jalen. I need to find Jalen and Cortney. I need to, I need to.
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A / N:
Well... that's that.
How are we feeling about this chapter? About the story overall? Thoughts on Lyndon, Jalen, Malia, Elijah, David, Noah, Daniel, and Cortney so far? Let's even throw Dedra and Rachel in there... how do we feel about them?
Next chapter is picking up where we left off. I love a good party and all the drama it brings. Hoping to have it ready and posted as soon as possible.
In the meantime, maybe go check out my other story called Creeps? It's a mystery/thriller, so it's different from this one, but just as good (in my bias opinion...) Either way, hope you're enjoying this story! See you all soon!!