Masqueraded Identities

Chapter Twenty-Two

I woke up and looked at the clock. Two PM... Holy shit, how did I even sleep that long? Ah, now I remembered. Didn't get back from the fam's until one in the morning. I shook my head, jumped out of bed, grabbed my phone from its charger, and jumped back in. I had to call Tay and tell her about last night.

I quickly explained it to her, and she squeaked. Not even squealed, she literally squeaked.

“Nuh uh!” she finally said.

“Yeah... Something's up,” I said.

“I'm telling you, your stranger must be him!”

“No way. He acts like he hates me way too much. Maybe he's my stranger's messenger or something.”

“Or he is your stranger!”

“Why are you so persistent with this idea?!”

“Because, it makes sense! When I caught Ryan in the stairwell, he looked like he could care less about tying his shoe. He looked like he was watching you.”

“So? Maybe he had heard rumors.”

“Babe, I would've known about a rumor like that. You would, too.”

I sighed. “It just... It would make absolutely no sense.”

“He's really not as bad as you think he is.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, have you ever heard him actually truly insult someone? You say you think he's a judgmental creep, correct? Other than the jokes he pulls on you, he's never actually said something mean and meant it. He keeps those thoughts to himself.”

I bit my lip. She did have a point. I had never heard him directly or indirectly insult someone. Sure, he made jokes with me, and they got annoying, but they were never actually mean. Well, okay, the one that followed my period made me upset, but one thing I had noticed was the look of instant regret and guilt when he saw the look on my face. Maybe he wasn't so mean after all...

“Well, what about his girl preferences?”

“Have you noticed he doesn't really talk to girls other than you unless they speak to him first?”

I thought about that. I mean, he had the normal posse that followed and swooned after him, but he never really seemed interested...

“But, my body type. He wouldn't be into that.”

“Well, you said he called you pretty, right?”

I sighed in frustration. Every reasonable point I had was getting completely shot down by Tay's calm, persuasive method of action. Which was really weird, because calm is NOT a word I would use to describe Tay by any means.

“You know I'm right,” she said through the phone smugly.

“Shut up. You're full of it,” I replied, fighting that sheepish smile a person gives when they want to deny the truth.

And, by truth, I do not mean the truth that Ryan is my masked stranger. Because I still didn't believe it. But I was starting to see that Ryan maybe wasn't such a creep after all.

The one thing I couldn't see, though, is why the thought of Ryan being my masked stranger had made my stomach into a frenzy of twisted knots and fluttering butterflies.

Back to school after an incredible winter break. I sighed and opened the door. Tay hadn't arrived yet.

My stomach had been in knots for what seemed like years. It wasn't because I'd get to see my boyfriend. I had barely thought about him over break. It wasn't because of the show next week. I was pumped and feeling confident. I felt like I had really gotten my lines to almost-perfection. But rather, the thing giving me butterflies, was the thought of when I'd get to see Ryan.

Ever since my talk with Tay, I had thought non-stop about him, much to my personal disgust. There was no way he could be my stranger. Yet, the thought of it made me feel giddy, happy. It made me feel exactly like I had at the masquerade ball back in September.

I sighed loudly, just because I knew no one was here and I could get away with it. I started unpacking my stuff, then gave up and flung myself on my bed. I needed a sedative for my brain or something. My thoughts were starting to annoy me.

My phone buzzed, and I took it out of my pocket. The knots in my stomach got even tighter when I saw I had a message from Ryan.

RYAN: you back yet?

ME: Yes sir. Why?

RYAN: Wanna hang?

ME: We got a fancy dinner, though, tonight, don't we?

RYAN: Yeah, but that's not for another two hours.

ME: Ryan, I'm a girl.

RYAN: And?

ME: It takes forever for me to get ready.

RYAN: Then I'll come to your dorm. I'm bored and lonely :P

ME: Hahaha okay. Come on over.

I squeaked, jumped off my bed, and quick brushed my teeth. How horrible would it be to have bad breath? I then thought of my armpits, and put another coat of my outlast deodorant. Then I thought about the rest of me. By the time Ryan arrived, my whole room smelled like Hollister perfume. And yet, I still didn't feel as if I smelled good enough.

He looked around me and Tay's dorm room. Her side was covered with paintings, and mine was covered with posters of screamo bands and album covers. My bed sheet was hot pink with zebra print, and Tay's was pastel and flowered. Our opposite tastes were very clearly shown in our decoration styles, yet somehow me and her became great friends.

“You like very angry music,” he commented.

I shrugged, a blush rising to my cheeks. “It's fun to mosh to.”

“You ever been to Warped Tour?”

“I've gone the past three years.”

“Is it fun?”

“If you go with the right people, or find some friends there. If not, it's alright. “

He nodded. “I thought you had to get ready, diva.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “I do! I just brushed my teeth.”

Ryan gave me a look, then laughed. “You're full of it.”

I gave a cheesy grin, and grabbed my straightner from my suitcase. I went into the bathroom, plugged it in, and waited for it to get warm. Ryan, who must've realized I wasn't doing anything that required the door to be shut and no males to be there, followed me in, put the toilet cover down, and sat on it.

He watched me as I split my hair into sections, and started straightening them. He was gazing intently at me, and it caused a frenzy of butterflies to flap around my stomach and for my face to get red.

“What?” I asked, turning my eyes to him as I stood in front of the mirror.

“Why do you straighten it?” he asked

“Uh... It looks cool when it's straight?” I replied. I wasn't sure why. I just liked the end result. Wasn't that good enough?

“You shouldn't.”

“Why?”

“I like the curls. They're fun and bouncy and pretty, just like you,” he said simply.

The butterflies started up once, again, and my face felt hot. I smiled, and muttered a simple thank-you.

The comment was quickly forgotten and Ryan and I talked about the finer details of life until I kicked him out so I could change into my formal dress.

That was the best afternoon I had had in a long time.