Mask of Celibacy

Chapter 6

It was official: an alien had taken over my body.

Never in my life had I felt this stupidly giddy about a guy. Sure, I'd admire his good looks from afar. Maybe find him funny like Jack the Jock and live to regret it forever.

After Eric had asked to speak to me after class, it sent me into the hugest tizzy.

What did he want? Would he ask me out? What would I say?

Not that it mattered. My grandparents would never allow it. No matter what it meant. Unless the guy's name happened to be Bryan Delacourt, no man would ever meet their strict criteria.

Maybe it was even worse. Maybe Eric wanted to take me to his senior prom.

Oh, God! Please anything but that! I can't dance for shit.

Don't be silly! Why the hell would Eric ask you? He hardly knows you.

As much as I dreaded him asking me, my crazy brain took the idea and ran with it. Pretty soon I tripped around my imagination, dreaming up a fantastical scenario where I'd dress up in a fancy purple ball gown and walk beside him.

Fantastical in the sense that I could actually dance. Rather than cavorting around like an awkward numb nut as usual.

It would be perfect. Like a fairy tale.

After a few fast dances, we'd settle into each other's embrace and sway to the sensuous rhythm. His arms cradling my sides. All the people in the background would fade away until only the two of us existed. His chest against my back. Warm and tender.

Even though it was just a harmless daydream, this one seemed different. Eric distracted the hell out of me without even trying. He never once gave me any indication that he might be interested in me, and yet I couldn't focus on my French class at all.

My favorite subject.

Thank God I could absorb it through pure osmosis.

"Cinq." Madame Waters prompted the class before calling on a random person. "Jess?"

I took a deep, calming breath before a tentative whisper fell from my lips.

"Il faut que je le revoie," I replied, my cheeks burning. I need to see him again.

"Comment s'écrit revoie?"

It took my brain a second to switch to the French alphabet before spelling the subjunctive form. Madame Waters gave me a pointed look but let me off the hook.

This time.

No more daydreaming about stupid crap!

Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Eric casting glances my way. Not like a creep. Casual glances as though he wanted to make sure I was all right. Was it all in my head? It didn't mean anything, right? The kid hardly knew me.

Oh, who gives a rat's ass?

What the hell? This isn't me.

Eric didn't say he liked me, and yet I fantasized about him. That was weird. I didn't go around dreaming about boys. As cliché as it sounded, it felt like an outside force urged me to reach out and touch his hand. To run my fingers through his raven-dark waves.

It took all my strength to ignore it.

People like me don't feel this way, do they?

They don't rave about how a guy smells like citrus and spice.

Mm...

"Jess, ça va?" asked Eric in his deep baritone, jolting me out of my reverie.