Chapter Twenty-Three Will You Go To The Ball With Me?
Briar
Th e month of October had begun to fade away as quickly as it arrived. The halls were decorated for the occasion, everything sporting something spooky or orange. Carved pumpkins in the commons, puny lines written on the chalkboards.
Fall had fully wrapped its arms around seaside Oregon, making it impossible to walk outside without a jacket and as Halloween approached, the less excited I became.
Finals were already posted for all of my classes, all of them somewhere in the first week of December which meant I was already studying for them. November would be nothing but flash cards and highlighters.
I used to love Halloween.
Not the dressing up, but because of the Syfy’s Thirty-One Days of Halloween. Curling up on the couch after school with my parents with a bag of candy corn and popcorn to watch old horror films. All of us laughing at the shitty graphics or the cheesy plots. There wasn’t much that could beat that.
This year I’d barely watched any of them.
My life felt enough like a thriller movie as it was.
Then there was this ball that was coming up next week.
I’d always wanted to try dressing up in a fancy dress, because it wasn’t something I’d been able to do before.
But knowing I was only going to just disappear seconds after it started just to help four people I couldn’t care less about, well it took away the fun.
Even when Thomas gave me money to go shopping for a dress. Even after Lyra and I had picked them out, I still couldn’t make myself excited for this. Vindictively, I hoped I couldn’t get into the safe or there was an alarm so they would get caught.
On the other hand if they got busted, so would I. They would get a slap on the wrist and I’d be expelled. Lyra had been right from the start, they were untouchable here. Years and years of reputation built off their last names made punishing them impossible.
“True or false, a recursive function must have some way to control the number of times it repeats.” Lyra asks from across the library table, a Twizzlers hanging from the side of her mouth as she leans back in her chair, the legs lifting off the ground a bit.
I rest my head on my hands as I look down at the table, “True.”
“Correct! Another one right for the math whiz.” She announces, tossing the flash card onto the pile in front of us.
We sat across from each other, both of us with open laptops and at least three books apiece open, notes, pens, highlighters.
We’d thought mingling finals studies into our time made sense, until we were trying to focus on three things at once while trying to write four-page papers.
How is it that I’m a math major and I’m still writing fucking papers?
I pick up one of the blue index cards, “Tell me the lipids structure.”
Lyra was majoring in entomology, of course, with a minor in biology. When she graduates she wanted to do clinical research on how certain insects may have potential medical significance.
When she told me I thought she was a little crazy, but then I thought about how snake venom is used in some heart medications, so why couldn’t we use insects?
“Monomer, glycerol and three fatty acids. Elements include carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen.” She chews a piece of the red twisty candy, swallowing, before I nod.
“Do you even need to study?” I arch my eyebrow, smiling.
“Probably not,” She shrugs, throwing her candy at me. It hits me in the chest causing us both to laugh.
It was moments like these where I felt the most comfort. When my life had become everything I’d wanted. Study sessions with someone I could call my friend.
Absent-mindedly, I rub my thumb over my middle finger like I’m playing with a ring. The slightly raised skin under my knuckle makes me look down. Still in shock that it’s even there to begin with.
“Does it hurt?” Lyra asks curiously.
The makeup I’d put over it, was starting to fade and I’d need to reapply it soon.
“No. I think it would be better if it did hurt.”
“Why?”
“Then I’d be more inclined to hate it.”
I’d promised myself that I’d be open and honest with Lyra about everything. Including the fact that the tattoo itself was beautiful. I loved the way the letters fit in the space of my finger, the A and C designed to swirl around like vines around rose bushes.
I thought about getting it covered up with an actual rose when this was all said and done. Just to shove it back into Alistair’s face that anything he threw at me I could handle.
Even if it was a permanent memory of him.
“Should I be offended that I wasn’t invited to this study session?” Easton Sinclair’s voice reminds me of coffee in the morning. Smooth, warm, everything you need to start your day.
I lift my head, looking over at him with a smile, “Extremely offended.” I joke, “I lost your number or I would have invited you.”
Small white lie. I did lose it. After purposely throwing it away. Easton was nice, I’m sure he was a great guy, and given the opportunity I might accept a date offer from him, but not while he had a girlfriend.
One from what I’ve seen is pretty nice. I mean, she looks at me like I should be shinning her shoes, but she still seems nice. And no one deserves to be cheated on, ever.
My mama taught me that if he cheats with ya, he’ll cheat on ya. Cue the Texas accent.
“No worries.” He replies smoothly, “Hey Lyra,” Waving softly to acknowledge my roommate’s presence.
“Hello,” She flutters her fingertips in a wave back, picking up another piece of candy and chewing it.
“I asked my dad about the fruit trees for next year and I think I’ve won him over with the idea of a cherry tree. No more waiting on shipments to the grocery store.”
Lyra’s eyes burst with light, fireworks exploding inside of them. I crinkle my eyes at him suspiciously, winning over my friend was a smooth move. I’d admit.
“That’s so cool, thanks Easton.” She replies, excitement in her voice. The ability to just walk outside her dorm and pick cherries off the tree was all Lyra needed to be happy. And bugs, obviously.
“I’m actually glad I ran into you, I wanted to ask you something,” He returns his attention to me, placing his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels a bit.
“Sure, what’s up?” I close my applied mathematics book, giving him my attention.
“The All Hallows Eve ball next Friday, if you haven’t already sworn off going, I wanted to know if you’d go with me. I’ll even make sure to let you poke me with the corsage my mother will inevitably buy for us.” His floppy blonde hair falls in front of his face a bit, blue eyes confident.
He knows I’ll say yes.
I mean who would say no to Easton Sinclair?
I wasn’t sure if I found the confidence attractive or annoying.
“I’m shocked, I mean, flattered.” I laugh out, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, “But aren’t you going with Mary? I’m pretty sure I voted for you two for Hallow Queen and King.”
“Mary and I broke up last week.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “It just wasn’t working out, we felt it would be best if we were just friends.”
“So you’re single?” I stall.
“As single as one could be. Is that a yes?”
Did I want to go with him to this? Possibly. Easton was cute, he was likable, and everyone loved him. I’m sure he’d be a perfect gentleman, hold the door open for me, call me pretty when he saw me in my dress.
There wasn’t a reason to say no, not anymore.
Yet, I still wanted to say no and not just because I’d have to ditch him once we arrived.
I was attracted to Easton, I just didn’t like him.
Not enough to date him. When you think about guys you like, you are supposed to think about what it feels like for them to kiss you, how your body will fit with theirs, the way they make your heart race.
All I think about with him is platonic friendship.
“I’d love to, but I—”
“She already has a date.”
The squealing of chairs ring in my ears, the one directly beside me gets pulled out roughly before someone’s weight is dropped into the wooden seat. Rook, slides into the chair next to Lyra, a smirk on his lips as he rolls the match around with his tongue.
My shadow returns behind me, casting over everything else around me.
He absorbs it all, stealing all the light and pulling me deeper into the dark with him.
That’s where he wants me. Right there in the shadows with him.
They always said in movies the light defeats the dark.
That good wins over evil, so why is it that he is able to destroy anything that even tries to challenge him?
Good, light, it was no match for him.
“Ladies.” Rook offers with a sly wink. I watch Lyra, look at him out of the corner of her eye, picking her chair up and moving it farther away from him.
“I’m sorry, what?” Easton asks trying to play catch up with this situation. I’m sure when he thought about asking me, Alistair Caldwell and his friends were not a part of the equation.
“I said,” Alistair grabs the edge of my seat, tugging it closer to him, pulling me further into his web, “She already has a date.”
I feel his head, right next to my head. The way he leans into my body smelling my hair and I only make it worse by falling into his chest. Completely by accident of course, the jolt of sudden movement rattles my balance.
His toned arm slinks over the top of my shoulder and around my neck, dangling over my body, his fingers swinging confidently right above my belly button.
I bite hard on the inside of my cheek, “Easton this isn’t, he,” I wave my hands softly, trying not to make this look any worse than it already is.
“He isn’t what? Your boyfriend?” He spits out, disgusted that I’m even allowing Alistair to touch me. Even though he probably has more money than Easton could imagine, he still looked down on the man behind me. Like he was somehow better than him.
“No, he’s not,” I grind my teeth, turning my head a bit to throw a sideways glance over my shoulder. “We are just…” I drag out the word tasting funky on my tongue, “Friends.”