Unmasked

Finn's POV

My hand smacked the snooze button. Peace and quiet reestablished—

I frowned into my pillow. Where was the button to turn off the knocking?

"Finn!" Knock after knock I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. "You're going to lose the bathroom to April—"

I shot up so quickly my legs got tangled in the sheets. Avoiding a nasty meet-and-greet with the bedroom's floor, I caught myself on the nightstand, running for the door.

A flash of ashen hair headed down the hall before I had a chance to shout after her. Chasing after April, I threw out a hand. Pressing it to the closing bathroom door.

"Don't you dare, Apr—" Smack.

"Early bird catches the worm!"

The back of my head bumped on the door, I groaned.

"You're such a brat!" I picked up on a muffled giggle. "Mom and Dad made a little monster..." I mumbled feeling sleep creeping back in.

"What are you complaining about? I had to put up with both of you idiots."

I walked into the loft's kitchen-slash-living room. My older brother was dressed and prepped for work.

"It's nice to know you care, Johnny." I tapped my fingers blindly, inside the cabinet, searching for a mug—bingo. "Where's Carly?"

Johnny jerked a thumb into his old bedroom.

"Getting ready to head out." He leaned on the counter, arms crossed. "Do you sleep with earplugs or something? I called you three times! Dude, you're gonna get me in trouble with Mom and Dad. You keep driving late to school."

"Don't sweat it," I poured an unhealthy quantity of coffee. Needed my caffeine. "It's not like I'm going to flunk. Too smart for that."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Johnny messed with his tie, loosening it. That made me think of St. Joseph's uniforms. It wasn't just that they were stupid—the pants itched. Girls had no idea how lucky they were, wearing skirts and all.

Seeing my brother in a suit was bizarre. Johnny was the kind of guy who'd grown up with Tee's, shorts and scruffy hair. Standing before me, though, was the surfer-turned-environmental lawyer. His blond hair didn't hang on the back of his neck anymore. It was cropped above his ears. The weirdest was not seeing a goatee. Johnny had had one ever since he could grow facial hair.

There was the silent closing of a door.

"She did it again, huh?"

"She's a little weasel," I complained as my brother's fiancé laughed. "Bet she could get break into a national security prison."

"Yeah, but hopefully, she couldn't get out." John and I shared a smirk.

"Johnny." Carly knocked his shoulder. "Can you drop me off at the gym?"

"Yup."

He drew an arm around Carly's lithe waist, closing their distance. As soon as the 'eww' left me, a balled up paper-napkin got tossed at my head. It wasn't that I minded them kissing—I wasn't seven anymore. But they could get carried away. As in, forgetting people were in the room and ripping-each-others-clothes-off.

My lips twisted in a wry line. That image made my coffee taste stale.

Carly was a personal trainer. Anyone could see she was into working out. Not because she was crazy thin, because all of her screamed definition. I'd only seen a couple of girls like that. The ones on magazines didn't count. Airbrushed and photoshop were cheats.

"Hey, Huckleberry, we're outta here."

I tossed hair out of my eyes as I heard them shuffling for the exit. I glared silently hating on my brother.

"Don't call me that."

Johnny let his fiancé out. Before closing the door, he turned grinning, giving me the finger. I gave him double the dose. It was a good thing Mom wasn't here. She'd go ballistic.

About fifteen minutes of watching morning crap-TV, I prayed for my parents to come back from their "mini vacation". More like a vacation from us. They'd gone to Florida since Mom's parents lived there and because they couldn't trust me to keep April in check, they'd called on Watson.

I rolled my eyes at my Mother's paranoia for fictional names.

Mom kept saying she coerced Dad into letting her name all of us, but I was pretty sure he couldn't tell her no. Ever. Because of that, I ended up being named after Huckleberry Finn.

I let out a big fat hallelujah as I heard a door open.

"About time," my sister shoved her way past the door, carrying her pajamas. "What do you women do in there?"

Blowing a strand out of her face, she said, "What do you boys do in there that takes hours in the afternoon?" My blush started spreading as her smug-ass smirk grew. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

Wrenching my bedroom's door open, April called after me.

"Oh. You might not want to take a shower." My shoulders squared. I needed to pray harder.

Hurrying to the closet, I picked out a white shirt and fumbled for clean socks. On my way out, I grabbed the itchy navy pants off my bean bag. Running for the bathroom, I caught sight of my sixteen-year-old sister—leaving. She got to school on time, what a lucky lady.

After splashing a handful of shaving cream, I led the razor up my chin and cheeks. Stubble grew on me like dandelions grew in meadows. I took a five-min shivering shower, washed my teeth and jumped into my clothes. When I ran out the bathroom to grab my book bag, I still struggled with my tie—knotting it too tight.

Dashing to my 68' Chevrolet, I slunk inside jamming the key in—the engine purred. I pulled out so fast a cement-beam almost creamed my windshield.

St. Joseph was going to be the death of me.

***

For a private school, St. Joseph lacked a parking lot. I had to circle the streets for a spot. When I found one, about four streets away, I had to waste time feeding a meter.

Running several streets down, I tuned out yells from angry drivers as they almost plowed me. No one prowled outside school. Thomas' bombshell of a machine was parked nearest to the entrance. He'd lucked today.

The Gothic archway came into view and I drew a sharp breath—I was only five minutes late.

Only one busy cross-walk left…

My muscles locked up as a blue sports car charged powerfully, going for the cross-walk. My foot touched the side-walk. I was home free. The girl just now crossing the street wasn't, though.

Why didn't I trudge for the hallways—headed to English? Maybe it was my nice-guy gene kicking in, or the fact that the car wasn't speeding down. Going straight for the dark haired girl.

In a split motion, I latched out a hand, curling on whatever I could find and tugged. A shiver plummeted my stomach—not my shiver. Ten tiny, pointy spears pierced through my jacket, my shirt… Dang, those nails made feel naked. My eardrums shook and as my eyes focused, I saw just who I'd pulled from being mangled by a metalized blue, monster.

St. Joseph's It girl herself.

"Valerie?" The whisper jolted her head up. Her eyes were still on the parking Hell-car. Gelled hair poked out—brown. The dark sunglasses were a tip-off that Christian Freight was probably high. His movements were rush and brusque as he slung a bag over a shoulder, smacked the car door and marched for the gates.

Not caring he'd nearly ironed a girl.

Anger exploded out of me, "Watch it, dick!"

Her wide eyes swung to me and a trembling breath reached her lungs. Heart thumping wildly, my brain grappled for words, none came. The color of her eyes was just… They were the color of golden walnuts.

"You just called Christian a dick."

"So?"

"So, the guy wanted to rearrange your face into a pulpy-mess." Whoops. Overlooked that fact.

My brow furrowed.

"That was months ago," I said. "You still remember?"

"Well… Thomas caused quite the show." Right. Like breaking Ernie's nose. "Christian complained to Kelly for weeks… My ears bled." Her voice felt on auto-pilot. Like she was transfixed by something, but the only thing she was looking at, were my eyes. She was still gripping my arms with Wonder Woman super-strength.

"Are you okay? You seem… off."

Shocked out of her stupor, Valerie's hands dropped. Not stepping away.

"I did just almost get hit by a car."

"Huh—"

Tardy bells rung in her head.

Monet reached down with grace and speed any gymnastic would envy, grasping her hundred-dollar bag off the street.

She walked past the tall gates with haste, climbed the first stairs—the heel of her boot caught as Valerie half-turned, eying me over a shoulder.

"Thank you, Finn."

Blinking, I nodded.

A minute passed as I stared after the high school's It girl. Then realized two things.

She'd called me 'Finn' and…

"Shit!" I shot for the double doors like my feet were on fire.