Masqueraded Identities

Chapter Thirty-One

“R-Ryan?!” I blurted out, in complete shock.

He nodded. He looked sullen, scared. Like he thought I was about to storm off any second.

“But... but... You're... At the back to school ball. That was you I danced with?”

He nodded. “It was me this whole time.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You're kidding.”

“I'm surprised you didn't figure it out on your own, to be quite honest. I felt it was so obvious.”

“I had no idea... I thought it might have been Mark at first, to be honest. At first he was charming and sweet... Just like you had been that night. But then... He turned meaner and you turned sweeter and like the guy I met that night back a few months ago.”

“No... It was always me. Lucky for you, eh?” he said glumly.

“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked, looking over at him.

“Well, you probably want nothing to do with me and probably wish your masked man was someone else, correct?”

I bit my lip. I honestly didn't know how I felt. Towards the end of the mystery, I had felt something towards Ryan. Something wonderful and magical. And despite Tay's predictions that Ryan was my masked stranger, I never believed it myself. Was I disappointed he was my stranger? Was I happy?

I thought the question over another minute or so, and finally said, “I wasn't expecting it at all. But when I truly think about it... There is no one else I would rather have be my stranger.”

He smiled in disbelief, obviously relieved. “Really?”

I nodded. “Despite the fact that from the very beginning, you have given me reason to stay away, somehow, I couldn't.”

He gave me a beautiful, white, crooked smile, and said, “Go change into something comfy. I want to take you somewhere.”

“What? But... Curfew!”

“Do you know how to walk into your dorm building quietly?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you'll be fine. Trust me, I go here all the time. It'll be okay, I promise.”

Something about the hopeful, excited gleam in his eye convinced me to go with him. Wherever it was. We both went to our dorms and changed. I put my favorite pair of skinnies on, with a band shirt and my recently acquired Princeton sweatshirt. I slipped on some mismatched socks and a pair of Vans, and walked outside to find Ryan waiting for me.

He was in a pair of form-fitting, dark blue jeans, with a dark blue hoodie on. Even something that simple, and he still looked attractive. He held out his arm, and I hooked mine through his.

“It's a perfect night. Not too cold, just cold enough to bring out your favorite jacket and some hot chocolate,” he commented, his breath clouding the air as he talked.

“I agree. I hate winter, but these type of nights make it bearable.”

We walked in silence from then on, until we ended up in front of a path leading into a small forest.

“I didn't know this existed on campus,” I commented.

“Not many people do. It's my quiet spot, you could say.”

We walked through and eventually ended up in a clearing with a picnic table, which had a blanket and some sketchbooks on it.

“I call it my art forest. It's where I draw and stuff,” he said, grabbing the blanket and laying it on the ground. He sat down and patted the part of blanket next to him. I sat next to him, and he pulled a thermos out of the oversized pocket of his hoodie.