Masqueraded Identities

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The school cheered as everyone was let out of classes Tuesday afternoon. The first semester, and all the awful exams, were finally done. Next week, we'd be back and in new classes, each with their ups and downs. But for now? Everyone planned on getting changed, eating dinner, and then heading to the school-sponsored Sonic trip. I was pumped. They had the best milkshakes.

The previous night, Tay had gone to movie night immediately, and I to go change into something warmer because I was cold. Well, two hours later, I woke up to her shaking me on my bed saying I missed the movie night entirely. This made me sad. I was hoping to spend time with Tay and possibly Ryan. On the plus side, he had asked Tay where her partner in crime had been. At least it shows he was looking out for me. I think.

Tomorrow, the students had all day to relax and prepare for the end of semester school ball. Another night of looking fancy and disgusting dancing. Theme park day wasn't until next semester, when it was warmer. I sighed. I didn't even know what I wanted to wear. My attempt at looking pretty and sophisticated at the masquerade ball had gone to complete waste. I prayed that despite the fact I wasn't rich, maybe I could contend with the gorgeous girls at Princeton that could possibly snag Ryan's attention.

On the bright side, no more finals or heavy books or AP geography. There were good things and bad things about the semester ending.

I went into my dorm, changed my clothes, grabbed my book (Mockingjay, bee tee dubs. I was obsessed) and walked outside. It was a nice, warm day, which was rare for a Massachusetts weather. Not warm enough for short sleeves or shorts, but warm enough to wear skinnies, a light-weight long-sleeved shirt, and some Vans. I found a bench, sent a text to Tay letting her know I was chilling outside in case she needed me, and opened my book.

It seemed like it had only been five minutes of reading about the tragedy of Peeta's hijacking when I heard, “Rory, where were you last night?”

I looked up and felt my heart skip a beat and a butterfly beat against my stomach when I saw the face of Ryan.

“I kind of fell asleep,” I replied sheepishly.

He nodded at my feet, which were curled up on the bench and taking most of the room. “Mind if I sit with you?”

I moved my feet, put my bookmark in, and set the book in my lap. “Not at all.”

He sat down, and said, “Hunger Games fan?”

“Major. This is my third time reading it. I've tried to move on to other books, but it just hasn't happened yet.”

He chuckled. “They're pretty freaking good. It makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with Suzanne Collins' brain, though. I mean, good lord, what does she dream about at night?”

I giggled. “Her head is a pretty imaginative place, it seems.”

“What part are you on?”

“Where they realize Peeta was hijacked.”

“Team Peeta or Gale?”

“Peeta. How is it even possible to be Gale?”

Ryan gave me a look. “How is it possible to be Peeta?!”

Ryan and I got into a debate about Peeta and Gale, which had me laughing the majority of the time, and Ryan trying his hardest to be tough and firm on his decision. He eventually started laughing with me, though, and soon enough, the sky was getting darker.

“Wow. Dinner's soon, ain't it?” he commented after we had finally calmed down.

I pulled out my phone. “It's almost 5:30.”

Dinner started at six.

“Wanna go chill in my room until dinner? It's getting chilly,” he offered, trying to hide the look of hopefulness on his face.

“Sure, that'd be fun!”

“I have board games!”

“Oh, then we are definitely chilling in your room!”

He chuckled, stood up, and offered a hand. I grabbed it, and he helped me get off the bench. He kissed my hand and smiled, and we walked back to the boy's dorm building.

He took his key out of his jeans pocket, jiggled it in the doorway, and opened the door.

I was about to follow him in, when he quick turned out of the doorway, slammed the door, and said, “Actually, let's go back to that bench!”

His face looked alarmed and angry, but I could tell he was trying to keep his cool.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“What? Nothing!” he said too quickly.

“Let me see!” I said, trying to push past him.

He kept trying to block me with his strong arms, and said, “I really don't think you want to.”

“Oh, but I do,” I muttered, finally shoving him past me and opening the door.

My jaw dropped when I saw a shirtless Mark on top of a girl, his hands slightly up her shirt.

“What's going on here?!” I demanded.

He tore his lips away from hers and looked up, wide-eyed and scared.

Busted.