"Love takes off all masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."
–James Baldwin
——
STACEY STIRRED IN her sleep as soon as the bright rays of the morning sun began to filter in through her window. Her father continued to pull back the curtains in her small bedroom and Stacey frowned, pulling her pale-pink covers over her head.
"Dad, too much sun is getting in," she murmured, her voice muffled from being the covers and groggy from being partially awake. "Close the curtains."
Martin Furler finished pulling back the curtains as if he hadn't heard his daughter.
"You've slept enough now, Stacey," He said when he was done and Stacey could almost picture him staring down at her with her his arms folded across his chest.
She mumbled something incoherent and Martin rolled his eyes. He crossed the room in two long strides and pointed a flashlight in her face.
"Dad!" Stacey's eyes shot open and she sat up in the bed to meet his eyes with a glare of her own.
"It's almost seven-thirty," He told her, returning the flashlight to her nightstand. "Plus, you're going outside today."
"Outside?" Stacey's voice was a screech that would make one think she had just been sentenced to a life in prison.
"Yes, outside." Martin affirmed and when Stacey opened her mouth to protest, he reached down, lifting the girl's right arm. "For the love of God, Stacey. You haven't stepped out of the house for two months and you almost look like you've been coated with white paint,"
"One month, three weeks and six days," Stacey corrected, a childish pout overcoming her face as she folded her arms across her chest.
"Whatever," Martin rolled his eyes. "All I know is that you need some sun to return the glow to your face, so you're going outside."
"But what If I go outside and there's too much sun out and the atmosphere gets too hot and I die of heatstroke," Stacey said, in an attempt to avoid going out. "Or I get stung by a bee. Or I get chased my Mrs. Walter's crazy dog. Or—"
"None of those things are going to happen, Stacey. So throw some clothes on and get going." he said, turning to go to the door. "I'll be out in the garage if you need me."
"What do I do when I get outside?" She called after him.
"Take a walk or something."
Tough love, Stacey huffed as he left her room. She peeled back the covers from her body and sauntered over to the mirror in the corner of her room. Her reflection gazed back at her as soon as she placed herself in front of the mirror and she almost cringed.
Her hair was sticking up in every direction even only after a few hours of sleep, making her head look like some bird had come to establish its nest there. The redness of her hair contrasted greatly with the pearly paleness of her skin and within seconds, she came to the realization that she did need some to go outside to soak up some sunshine.
Her slender fingers reached up, lightly touching the bags under her eyes. She looked lower —past her sprinkling of freckles— and her gaze rested on her chapped lips. She figured she hadn't bought another ChapStick ever since her old one got finished. And that was two months ago.
She sighed, picking up her blusher to at least add some color to her cheeks before the kids she'd came across on the street would run away, calling her a vampire because of her paleness. Good thing no boy sees me this way, she thought.
"I don't think that blusher is going to fix all of it."
Stacey jumped nearly six feet in the air at the sound of the unknown voice and the blusher fell out of her hand. Frantically, she looked round her room, only to find a boy that looked about her age lounging on her window sill, looking at her with a smile.
"What do you suggest, then?" She asked, eyeing him carefully as she reached down to pick the blusher.
"Well," he cleared his throat. "A little sun would do. "Come outside, let's play."
Stacey folded her arms across her chest, giving him a pointed stare. "I'm not five, you know."
"Who said playing outside was only for five year olds?"
Stacey scrutinized the boy. His hair was a mass of dark brown curls on his head and his creamy skin accentuated the hazel glow of his irises. He was dressed in blue beach shorts and a sleeveless crew-neck shirt that was covered in white and blue stripes, and a smile brighter than the fireworks on the fourth of July was spread out on his face.
"Who are you?" She squinted at him.
"Who are you?" He shot back, the trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Stacey scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right. As if I'll ever tell my name to a complete stranger."
"Same here," The boy said. "You're as much of a stranger to me as I am to you."
Stacey ran her eyes over his lounging frame. "So, do you just get a kick out of sneaking up on unsuspecting girls that are just having some alone time in their bedroom?"
He shrugged. "This is my first time, actually. But you should have seen the look on your face when you heard my voice," he chuckled. "Two words: price-less."
"Priceless is one word." Stacey pointed out.
"Priceless is one word—" he agreed with a sly smile, but he wasn't finished, "—for the look on your face a few minutes ago."
He burst out into a fit of laughter, slapping his hand on his knee and Stacey bored glares into his frame.
"I'm really not interested in your lame jokes, puns, or whatever," She straightened her stance, using her no-nonsense tone. "What do you want?"
"Someone to come with me to the beach, of course," he said.
"And you couldn't find anybody else but me?"
"The only friend that I have is out of town and you're the only person left on this street that is my age," The boy said. "Think about all the fun things we could do at the beach. Surf, make sand castles, collect seashells—"
"Well, sorry to break it to you, fella, but you better go and find yourself some other person to tag along with you to be your playmate, because this girl has got better things to do." Stacey smirked triumphantly, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Fine," The boy said. "Since you won't go with me to the beach, I'll just come in then."
Stacey looked at him levelly. "That would be trespassing, you know."
A sly smirk formed on his face and his eyes dropped to the window seat were Stacey's most prized possession lay.
"No, I think taking this is trespassing," he said and snatched the diary before Stacey could move a muscle.
"Catch me if you can." He called and Stacey raced to the window, poking her head out to catch him shimmying down the side of the house.
"Come back here!" She screamed, but he only laughed, waving the diary in the air as if it was a prize as he disappeared down the street.
——
And that was the first chapter! Please vote and comment, guys. I would love to hear your thoughts. Don't hold back, tell me exactly what you feel.
Also, follow me on Wattpad @forevercupid
xoxo
Sharon
