Between The Lines

Chapter 109: 'Don't ever let him dance with you again'

Rebecca's POV (1st Person):

I sat on the edge of my bed, my fingers tracing the edges of the envelope, the one Lane had given me just hours ago. I hadn't expected it, hadn't expected any of this. A masquerade ball? I wasn't sure how to feel. The whole thing seemed surreal, like something out of a movie, not my life. But it was real—there it was, sitting right in front of me.

"What are you going to do?" Charlotte's voice broke through my thoughts. She was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, looking up at me with that eager curiosity that she always had when it came to anything involving Lane. Oliver was next to her, leaning against the wall, arms folded, clearly less interested but still there for the gossip.

"I don't know," I sighed, rolling over onto my side, facing the wall. The invitation was still clutched in my hand, his neat handwriting on the front of the envelope staring back at me. "I mean, a ball? I've never even been to one. And Lane...he's part of that world. I'm not. I'd be completely out of place."

Charlotte scoffed. "So what? You'll be there with Lane. Trust me, everyone will be too busy drooling over how good you two look together to care about where you're from."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, but my heart wasn't in it. I could already picture it—me, standing there in some dress that didn't quite fit right, trying to pretend like I belonged, while everyone around me whispered and stared. Lane's parents, his friends, all of them judging me, wondering what the hell I was doing there.

Oliver finally spoke up. "You're overthinking it, Rebecca. It's just a party. And it's with Lane. If he invited you, it's because he wants you there. The rest doesn't matter."

I let out another sigh, rolling back onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. "But what would I even wear? I don't have a gown, or anything remotely close to what I imagine people wear to these things."

Charlotte jumped up, clearly excited by the prospect. "That's the easy part! We can go shopping, find something that makes you feel like a million bucks. Something that'll make Lane forget his own name when he sees you."

I smiled at that, the image of Lane's face when he saw me in a gown flitting through my mind. But the smile faded quickly as the doubts crept back in. "And what about his parents? What would they think? I'm just his student—what if they see me as some kind of...distraction?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You're not 'just his student,' Rebecca. You know that, and so does Lane. If his parents don't get it, that's their problem, not yours."

But it didn't feel that simple. Nothing ever did when it came to Lane. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine myself at the ball, surrounded by people I didn't know, in a world that wasn't mine. And then there was Lane, standing beside me, looking every bit the part of someone who belonged there. He'd be in a perfectly tailored suit, his mask adding a touch of mystery, drawing even more attention to his piercing eyes. The thought made my heart skip a beat.

But then, in my mind's eye, I saw the looks, the whispers. I could almost hear them: "Who is she?" "What's she doing here with him?" "She's not from our world."

And that's when I'd panic, feel completely out of place. But then Lane would turn to me, his eyes softening, and he'd reach out, taking my hand in his. The warmth of his touch would chase away all the doubts, all the insecurities. It would be just the two of us, dancing like no one else was there, his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. For that moment, I'd feel like I belonged—because I was with him.

I opened my eyes, the fantasy dissolving as reality came rushing back. The invitation was still in my hand, unopened. I slowly sat up, my heart pounding, and carefully slid my finger under the flap, pulling out the card inside. The words were simple, but they carried so much weight.