Unmasked At Midnight

chapter six

"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." -Ingrid Bergman

I sit on the floor, cross-legged, with the various pieces of my costume scattered in front of me. It looks a mess, but in my head I'm already arranging all the parts together, trying to see how they would fit. I wiggle out of my jeans and pull the fishnet tights I got on Monday over my legs. It was half-past six, and Lucas and everyone else would be here to pick me up in an hour or so. It had taken a while to find the necessary parts of my outfit, and while it might be common, it was the epitome of me. Despite what my head says, my heart is looking forward to seeing Charming again. I know it is eminently unfair of me to be enjoying this when I am trying to cut him off, but no matter what I do I still want him. I can't stop thinking about last week when he came up to me all of a sudden, and what started as a friendly conversation turned into something more.

Liz, rethink this.

I fasten the chains to the belt loop on my red vinyl skirt around my waist.

I can't.

I don't know what to do about him. He'd ruin me, and I was ruining myself by not shutting him out. It is only a matter of time, I think.

Securing the vermillion tube top, I slide down the mesh puff sleeves I had attached myself and make it off-the-shoulder.

But I like him, he could be different.

I enter the bathroom and sit in front of the vanity mirror to work on my hair. Gathering it up with a brush, I gather it on top of my head in an endeavor at a high ponytail.

It's better to be safe than sorry.

After several attempts, I give myself an A for effort. I didn't want to spend too long perfecting my hair when I still had my makeup to do.

But what if he's different?

I close one eye, gently swipe on black eyeliner with careful strokes and switch to the other.

I can't take that risk.

The eyeshadow brush moves smoothly, leaving a scarlet tinge on my lids.

But what if he's worth it?

This makes me pause and hesitate before applying crimson lipstick to my lips.

There's always a chance he isn't.

I top it off with clear lip gloss to polish my look, and scoot back to admire my work.

It's fifty-fifty.

It turned out better than I thought. Even if anyone has the same costume, I would still pull it off better.

That's the problem. I either win or lose it all.

I do a three-sixty to check my outfit from all angles.

You never win unless you're willing to lose.

"Just, SHUT UP!" I can't stand the voices in my head and I snap.

"Honey, are you okay?" I hear my dad call up.

"Yes," I grit my teeth, forcing out the second fib this week.

"Well, your friends are here to pick you up!"

"Coming!" I shout back.

Stepping into my heeled ankle boots, I adjust the raven-black wings on my back then grab my hair accessory, positioning it neatly so as not to put a strand of hair out of place.