Unmasked

Valerie's POV

I huddled in my seat, heart acting like a tambourine.

Mrs. Bradley allowed my ten-minute-lateness to slip with a minor advertisement to my perfect record. I pushed an hysterical giggle down. Perfect attendance? Christian-freaking-Freight had nearly turned me into road-kill!

"Valerie?" Kelly's tiny voice called from beside me.

Cursing in my head, I balled up lingering fear, tossing it into a trash bin. Only I could pull off such a miracle after a near-death experience. Smiling the brightest winning smile possible, I faced her.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Of course, I just ran a bit late because Jackson took too long getting ready."

Kelly nipped at her hideously purple nail.

"Oh," she kept staring. "It looks like you were running—your hair's all over the place—and you're really pale. Did you forget to put make-up on? If you want, you can use my kit…"

Sweet Kelly kept on blabbing. If I had a gun, I would've shot myself. Absently patting my hair down into place, I stared carefully at the board.

"No, I'm all good. Thank you for caring, though." Kelly turned front after that.

It became impossible to memorize the dates as the class crawled on. My brain was on a bungee jumping rush. Because my dickwad step-brother offered to bring me to school, I'd nearly gotten a one way ticket to the morgue.

My eyes slid to Kelly, who had her chin propped on her fist, almost asleep. Nothing good would happen if I told her, her boyfriend would've pancaked me if Matthews hadn't pulled me aside.

Christian had been high as a kite.

I chewed the inside of my lip until class was let out. I only hoped Matthews didn't open his mouth. I didn't need rumors getting started—one involving a scholar. Strolling outside, I headed to my locker.

"You look pale," Ava stood near my locker as I exchanged History for Geography. "Trying to spread a new look? I can't promise the Zombie-trend will catch on."

I beamed a crude, genuine smile her way. Anyone else would either say I looked stunning or, like Kelly, would offer some make-up to cover up the human flaws. To mask myself. Ava was different, that's what made me like her.

"I'm not sure my clothes are bloody enough to pull off an undead-brain-eater." I tucked the soft curls of raven behind both ears. "You're the second person who says I'm pale. Is it really that bad?"

Ava nodded grimly, "Pale as ghost." Spiffy. "Did Mrs. Bradley play another blood-gore-history movie?"

My nose twitched. My history teacher had shown a movie last semester—recounting World War II—it had been horrible. I had a delicate stomach when it came to blood and guts, just the thought made me a little sick.

"No, nothing like that." Last time, I'd ended up in the school's infirmary. "I… Jackson dropped me off, but he torched time grooming his precious hair." Sometimes I wondered what I'd ever seen in him. What boy wasted fifteen minutes to comb his hair? The kind that purposely wanted me to arrive late. That's who.

"Jackson… Your step-brother?" I nodded yes. I tried not mentioning him much.

The fright from this morning gobbled my heart, weighing me down as we sauntered down the halls. Kids eyes locked as we passed. Some guys snickered and I knew they were staring at Ava. She ignored them. I saw how uncomfortable it made her, though.

Mustering the best mean-glare I could, I sent it their way. Their jaws locked in fear. The reaction fed my Queen Bee ego, but didn't make the bursting feeling in my chest dissolve.

"I know people are still talking about Thomas' mom," I whispered. "But it'll quiet down after the trial. You'll see."

She sighed blinking her brown eyes.

"I just ignore them. Thomas on the other hand… it really bothers him." Sounded like he wanted to distribute a few punches. "But I manage to distract him."

"Ooh, dirty." She shook her head with a silly, guilty smile. "Your secret is safe with me. Just don't let Brenda find out. Speaking of secrets…" I was dying to tell someone about this morning. The pressure wouldn't vanish until I did. "I want to tell you something—I don't want anyone knowing it, though."

Ava stopped for a moment, understanding shining in her eyes. She didn't need to say she'd keep it—I knew it.

"This morning, when Jackson dropped me off, I was walking fast—so much I didn't even look sideways before crossing the street." I leaned on the cold wall. My stomach dropped to an endless pit remembering as the air had gotten stolen from me, how my muscles had refused to move. "There was a car—Christian's car—and it was coming at me. Fast, Ava—really fast." Her eyes jumped in coiled panic. "I froze. I just… stood there."

My friend grasped my elbow, turning us into the wall when two curious freshman walked by.

"My God, Valerie, you're so lucky Christian stopped…"

I bit my lip. Now I was screwing up my lipstick. Wonderful.

"He didn't," she looked purely confused. "Christian didn't stop—someone pulled me out of the way. Finn… Finn Matthews, actually."

Her mouth parted—nothing. Ava looked as stunned as I'd felt the moment I'd stared at my savior. Of all the people in the world, I never imagined Finn to be the person to rescue me from becoming a thin, sheet of paper.

"Finn…?" I shrugged. "Well, he did look winded when he got to English. He didn't even open his mouth during the whole class." At least, I wasn't the only one affected. "Did you tell Kelly?"

"No, and I'm not going to. Christian didn't give two cents about his speeding—he was probably stoned."

"Does she even know he smokes drugs?"

"Don't know and frankly, I don't think she cares." Kelly and Christian were the kind of couple who were together because they looked good. Brenda was screwing him on the side-lines. "Anyway, now you know why I look so freaked. It scared the crap out of me."

"No kidding," she shivered. "Christian is such douche."

"Tell me about it."

I thanked the sweet, little humming birds that neither Kelly or Brenda took Geography. I wasn't in the mood for Brenda's bitching or Kells excessive naivety. Since freshman year, they'd stuck to me like glue. But if we were anything, we weren't friends. I was used to people attaching themselves to me.

Everyone wanted something.

Go to my birthday parties, go to the same vacation spots, be seen with me—the list was endless. That had been cool when I was a kid and liked princess themed parties—Now? It was as old as the dusty pyramids our teacher was ranting about.

Ava copied things off the board in a frenzy. Since our first class together, she was a sponge. Sucking every information—like she was hungry for it.

When we'd first met, she'd been a on-the-rise-young-model. Landed a big job for Lovet and everything. After what Giselle—Thomas' Mom—did about two months ago, she quit. I didn't think it was just because Lovet was pretty much falling apart, Ava probably didn't like modeling.

When you like something, you talk about it. Non-stop. She never did. And when one of us pushed the subject, she'd smile openly. If Ava's smiles had been real, our blood was blue.

"There are two more weeks before summer. As in, we'll be done with high school." I slid closer so I wouldn't be overheard by our enthusiastic teacher. "Why are you writing that down?"

"Extra credit. Mr. Reese said there would be a last test for those who wanted to get their grade up." Oh. That's why I didn't know. "Thomas thinks Columbia will accept me—but I'm not risking it."

College, application letters—more studying.

Someone once told me, that for people with money, a diploma was just an accessory. Something to look good on your wall. While I agreed that it gave prestige, it also opened new doors. I wasn't sure what I wanted yet. Munching off my Father's money? Wasn't in my plans.

No matter how much he didn't mind.

"Where are you going?" Ava asked as we left for the patio.

"I don't know. Hawaii, Brazil—" She laughed. "You're talking about college, aren't you?" I mumbled wondering where my head went. "I don't know that either. There's plenty of them."

"Maybe you can pick one in Braz—" she jumped the word half-way through a snicker.

Talk about attachments. They lived together, came to school together, they were going to College together... Still, Thomas and Ava spent every waking moment in school... together. Sometimes it got too sickeningly sweet.

"I was thinking we could go out for lunch," Thomas' hands grabbed her hips, pulling them into one massive blob. "Just the two of us."

I puffed out a breath. He could at least pretend to whisper it.

"I'm right here." Those sizzling blue eyes locked on mine saying he didn't give a crap. "Such a charmer..." I mumbled under my breath.

"Be polite," Ava pushed at him. "She's my friend."

Thomas clenched his jaw. Then shrugged, kissing her cheek and Ava turned in his mild embrace.

"You can come." She smiled—and while it wasn't fake, it was hopeful. She wanted alone time. "We don't mind."

"Huh-huh. Well," I made a dramatic waving gesture. "I'd love to watch you guys suck each other's faces, but I have things that need to be done. Like my art project. Ms. Crammer said she'd find a way to flunk me if I didn't turn it in by the end of the week."

With pep-in-my-step, I whirled, heading down several tall, echoing halls. St. Joseph felt like a giant cathedral. Most times I expected a ghost to come floating down the hall—a nun or priest.

Creepy.

Ms. Crammer couldn't actually flunk me. Not when I was acing her class. It was a way to avoid the duo. And Christian. There was a good chance I'd throw a punch if he came up to me all naturale, like nothing happened.

Surprise shot through me when I saw the door to the Art studio parted. No one ever hung here during lunch.

Pushing my head in, I stilled.

People who took art kept a clean change at school. It was the first time I saw Finn wearing a T-shirt and jeans. My mind was pretty blown because he was there—sitting at a stool, brush in hand.

That wasn't what took the cake.

It was the cord of muscles in his back.

They moved as he slashed the brush across the canvas. I wondered how I'd missed that. Sure uniforms were baggy and borderline ugly... Those were pretty lean, delineate muscles to hide.

Speaking about muscles, I should get mine working. Standing like a creep wasn't my scene.

"Hi," I greeted with a stiff tone. I'd never talker to the guy before today. "What are you doing here?"

Gray clouds hovered to my gaze. I placed down my bag, swallowing. There didn't seem to be any bruises, Christian hadn't punched him. So why did it feel like he wanted to turn back time and let Chris run me over?

"You're joking." I blinked. He scowled. "God, you're being serious. What am I doing here? Working on my final project. I've been taking this class since senior year began."

"What? No way, I've been in this class all year long! How..." I trailed off at his arched eyebrow. Shoot. "Oh. Wow—oh." Two spots on my cheeks lit, the color of red bell peppers. "I didn't..." Notice you? Yeah, say that to the guy who saved your life less than twenty-four hours ago.

"Of course you didn't." He mumbled, clearly having some choice things to say. Things I probably deserved to hear. Instead, Matthews faced his canvas.

O-kay.

Ignoring each other was good. I'd been doing it well so far—too well. I never missed a class, because I rarely got sick, so how hadn't I noticed Finn hanging in art?

Could be because I was used to ignore people in the pits. And he was very much in the pits. Finn had a scholarship, which meant not rich. Meaning, no worth sucking up to.

Not being wealthy. I snorted, that would send Brenda and Kelly packing.

I slipped off my short, navy jacket, hanging it on the wall. I retrieved my painting from the studio's closet and broke out the paints and brushes. The seats and wooden supporters were distributed in a circle, I chose a seat and began mixing colors. I was going for a night sky in Alaska. So, lots of snow, darkness—but my sky had something beautiful. An aurora Borealis.

I brushed the sky with a tinge of bright green until my eyes saw above the canvas' rim.

He wasn't sitting right in front of me, allowing me to see his face—his profile, at least. Finn was utterly engrossed. I wouldn't get caught for watching.

I hoped.

One thing art taught us, was to see beauty. Finn was good looking. Diamond shaped face with high cheekbones. Hooded slate-gray eyes. Nice set of thin, wide lips. That's what an artist would see before painting him.

Not the school's most popular girl. Nope.

There was something about him, though. Different—something changed.

You noticed he has muscles, a slinky voice whispered. I repressed it right away.

"You look different." I blurted. So much for not getting caught. His eyes fell on me—their sharpness made my fingers curl tightly on the brush's handle. "Did you... change something?" Maybe it was the clothing—

"My hair. I cut it." Ah! His hair. Giving it a looksie, I tilted my head. Indie hair-style—good pick. "Apparently the last one made me look twelve years old." I kept a muffled laugh in. "Maybe that's why you didn't notice me, you thought I was in the wrong place."

Hiding my face behind the painting, I smiled. Then quickly pressed my lips—this wasn't what I did. I didn't fraternize with low-food-chain.

We carried on with our tasks. The silence made the room super heavy and saturated, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. It was my fault. I knew it, but things weren't easy right now and I didn't need someone to catch me talking with an outcast.

You'd think hanging with Thomas would make Finn cool by association. Then again, Matthews hadn't made an effort to be noticed before Thomas rode in.

Something vibrated against my thigh. I wiped my hands on a rag before fishing it out—then cringed.

Here came complicated.

"Just the person I never wanted to talk to again." I greeted bitterly, catching Finn eying me weirdly. "You're an idiot, you know that—"

"Don't tell me your perfect attendance went splat? Whatever will you do?" Jackson's mocking voice rumbled deeply—the ass was laughing.

"I don't care about that. I almost got hit by a freaking car, moron!" I gritted. "Because you just had to drive me to school."

"You were what—? No way. You're lying. You would've called Daddy dearest right away—he would've called Mom and she would've busted my balls." I loved how I was a Daddy's girl in his head. Not. "Cut the crap and listen. I'm picking you up."

No freaking way in blistering hell was that happening.

"Are you even aware that I own a car?" Finn flicked his gaze towards me. Again. Never lingering. "You're making me sound stupid..." I muttered.

"That's not me, doll. It's all you—"

"Call me that again and we'll have a serious issue on our hands." There was a deep chuckle on the other end, making my skin crawl. "I'm not going home with you. You are not picking me up, Jackson. Understand? Goodbye." I hung up, not waiting.

God must've been seriously high on crack when he made that asshole. I didn't know which part I hated more, the part where Jackson was "family" or the part where we—

"How are you going home if your boyfriend isn't picking you up?"

My eyes widened.

"First off, he's not my boyfriend." The thought brought raw memories to mind. "Second, were you eavesdropping on my conversation?"

"Don't sound so appalled. I was sitting right here!" My grave stare didn't back down. A corner of Finn's lip tipped. "Unless I was supposed to cover my ears, your highness."

Not everyone talked to me that way. With his no-caring-about-the-consequences tone. People were afraid I knew things about them, dirty little secrets.

People liked to create myths.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

Finn inhaled, stretching his neck, getting rid of tension. I didn't notice muscles rippling faintly against his shirt. I did not.

"I have plenty of things to say to you." He stood up, busying himself with cleaning brushes. Dropping each one into a glass with clear water. "I doubt you'd like to hear any of it. Or your friends, for that matter."

"Ava's my friend."

Finn gave a lopsided shrug, "Ava is Trip's girl. She's excluded."

Finn wasn't a bulky guy. Not even close. His shoulders were ample, his frame modestly wide. He wasn't tall or short—probably five inches taller than me. But the way he slung his bag over a shoulder, not giving me the light of day as he walked out...

That was hot.