Masking Amaya Frazer

{9} New Divide

"I'm surprised. I expected at least ten percent of the class to have dropped this course by the second class," Professor Whitmore remarked, adjusting her glasses as she shot a pointed look at my table.

Milo distantly gazed out the window, neglecting to have even greeted me once I'd joined him at the table. I frowned, thinking the worst.

Did he believe he made a mistake by sleeping in my bed? Was he starting to care too much and realized there was no helping me?

Was he wishing to have been assigned to a different partner?

Professor Whitmore concluded her speal and told us to continue working on our projects as if any pair had actually started.

Turning to Milo, I said, "You didn't respond to my text."

He proceeded to stare at the landscape.

"Milo," I tried.

"Listen, everything that happened at the club and in your room afterwards was a mistake."

Taken aback, I was speechless for an entire minute. "Is it because of what I told you? That I'm a whore?"

Milo turned his piercing blue eyes on me.

"Yes."

I gasped, gawking at him. "Are you being serious? We didn't even have sex."

Without looking away, he admitted, "You don't know what it's like to truly care about someone. You just look for the quickest opportunity to hook up with someone-"

"That's-"

He held up a hand. "Let me finish. You haven't even bothered to ask how I'm doing. You know absolutely nothing about me and haven't even tried to get to know me. Amaya, you've been on my mind constantly since I met you. I want to protect you, but I'm not sure I can do that when you can't reciprocate."

Speechless, a small part of me agreed with what he was saying. He was a stranger to me; a stranger who knew my darkest secrets.

"I've tried..." I trailed off lamely. I'd told him we were practically strangers on several occasions to which he'd retort by saying he knew more about me than a stranger would. Yet, I never made a strong enough effort to learn his secrets.

"Barely."

"Then tell me, Milo. Who are you?"

"It's not that simple," he said, drawing on the table again. "You fail to see beyond my own mask and never attempted to remove it. I needed to know you that first night at Club Hypnotic, but you were looking for nothing as serious as to personally know your partner that night. Let me guess, I was just another nameless face that you would take to bed and never see again after?"

I failed to form any words. It was true; the first night at the club, I'd gone to forget about my life for a while and anyone there would satisfy my desires. Even the second night when he'd caught me dancing with a different man, I hadn't thought twice about what I was doing.

"But then we met again two days ago as partners in this art class and I was no longer that nameless face. I might as well have still been wearing that black mask, though, because you. Don't. Know. Me."

Snatching the pencil from his hand, I broke it in half and threw the two halves on the table. "Well maybe if you didn't make it so goddamn hard to get close to you, I would know more about you."

"Oh, like you're all that warm and fuzzy, Dove. Don't pin this on me when you know I'm right."

Just like that, any progress that we had made was destroyed. The bridge I crossed: obliterated.