Unmasked

Valerie's POV

The last four days had been filled with unbearable heat; we almost didn't leave the lake on the afternoons. Our drinking time had been reduced to nighttime, which Ava approved immensely. Gabe and Finn took turns driving the boat. Gabe and Ava took turns cooking. I took measured precautions to avoid being alone with Finn. During the day, it wasn't a big problem. He would either play that arcade game or we'd be surrounded by everyone else. Emma's conversations with him hadn't escaped my notice; I'd heard them talking one night, in the living room, about life in general. Where did he live? Where did he want to go for college? I stopped my train of thought. Those were normal topics to talk about. Though, Finn and I had had sex already and I had no idea what he wanted to do with his life or that his brother Johnny was getting married in less than four months—well, I knew that now, because I eavesdropped on them. I caught myself wondering what else Emma knew about him that I didn't. Did she know about his sister's intern job? Did she know he played darts? That he had a closet with medals?

"I'm confused," Ava's voice pulled my head out of my ass. I focused my attention on her. Ava's brown eyes were on Sharon, who was busily knotting her short hair into small braids. "You and Gabe...?"

Oh, yeah, we caught Gabe and Sharon going at it on the Jacuzzi deck. Gabe's shorts had been down to his ankles. Ava wanted to scratch out her eyes after Gabe tilted our way, clearly surprised.

"I thought Trip might have told you guys. It's not like it's his job, but he knows us." Did that mean he'd caught them having sex before? "We've been friends for a long time. It's not like we're together, but sometimes... We help each other out."

"Friends with benefits." Sharon grinned at me. I wondered if Sharon knew or minded that Gabriel had tried getting with me. Hmm, it didn't seem worth bringing up. "How do you guys keep things... separate?"

"You mean friendship and romance?" there was no sad note in Sharon's voice, but on her face, there was something I couldn't name. Her eyes shifted to where the boys and Emma were, playing cards. Her gaze got held up on the cigarette perched in Gabe's ear, standing out against his shock of bright blond hair. Sharon drove her gaze back to me, "Gabe's not really dating material. He takes after his father." She tied a small elastic around her finished braid. "Have you guys gotten any acceptance letters?"

Our conversation delved into Sharon's audition for Julliard. Neither of us had known Sharon's dream of becoming a performative artist. It was a tough school to get in. Sharon seemed much calmer than us, though. I didn't want to think about college. It meant starting over. Which I was already trying to do. But what if I screwed up?

I tipped my head back letting out a massive groan. Ava and Gabe were both cooking tonight; Gabe said he was the Chef and Ava was the Sous chef. Gabe was making paella, a Spanish dish. He learned how to make it while studying abroad. I was just thankful Dad ordered the kitchen to be stocked like we were waiting out a zombie apocalypse. We were approaching our first week here and we had plenty of food. I was trying to distract myself from life with television, but not even Insidious was making me think about sleeping with the lights on. I'd watched this movie at home—alone—after it came out and it scared the bejesus out of me.

A weight dropped on the other end of the couch.

"Hey," I tilted my head towards Finn. He was wearing a stamped t-shirt with a Star Wars logo and beige shorts. "I never pegged you for the horror movie fan."

"Why? Because I'm a girl or because I'm... me?"

"Because you're you. My sister loves horror movies, there's no room for sexism in my household." he offered a half smile. It was tentative. I kept my arms crossed, tightly pressed into my chest. My face was a stonewall. Finn's smile dwindled. "You've been avoiding me. Again. Just like at school after I saw you..." Finn lowered his voice, "Crying." after my painting's grizzly demise.

"How so? Aren't we supposed to dislike each other? I thought we were keeping up appearances." Finn's jaw flexed. My eyebrows jumped; I twisted my body, facing him. "It's not like you're tripping over yourself to talk to me, either." I almost threw in his face the bit about him and Emma spending a lot of time talking. I was a grown woman who wouldn't be petty and jealous. Finn was free to do as he wished, same as I was.

The young man next to me huffed. I locked my eyes on the massive screen.

"I'm talking to you now. We're alone..." his whispered words lingered between us, like a thread connecting us; I felt him shift along the couch, pushing us closer. "I know you're not really watching that." I was trying to.

Finn's weight settled dangerously near; my eyes flickered down at my knee where his hand brushed my naked skin. Finn drew a circle with his thumb before dropping that same hand between us, palm facing upward. Our gazes met, his were challenging. Finn looked at the plasma screen, I followed suit. Having a life of its own, my left hand slid towards his—I grappled blindly for a few seconds. Once our hands met, Finn wasted no time threading our fingers together. Tension spread where we were connected; it zigzagged to my shoulder and from there to every little cell.

I squirmed in my spot, biting my lip while a very inappropriate scene unfolded before our eyes. I was certain watching people getting possessed wasn't a big turn-on worldwide, yet, here I was: holding hands, growing hornier by the minute, with a fluttering heartbeat.

"I've never watched Star Wars." I murmured out of freaking nowhere.

Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw an uncensored grin take up Finn's face. It had been days since I'd seen his face light up like that.

"Would you like to?" I lifted a shoulder feeling my eyes shine as I looked at his profile. Finn's tongue pressed into the inside of his cheek before he clicked it. "Okay. What's the deal with the Ms. Pac Man game? You never play it. Why do you have it?"

Our sexual tension still buzzed back and forth between us, it was slowly shifting into the background. I realized how much I'd missed talking to him.

"Because of my Dad." Finn fully turned towards me with plain confusion I found adorable. "On their first date, they had dinner and afterwards, my Dad took my Mom to an arcade and they played that game. It was Dad's favorite. Mom bought it as an anniversary gift."

"Your Dad took your Mom to an arcade?" I pinned him with a glare. "I thought rich people's dates were more extravagant, sorry." Finn and his assumptions.

"Usually, yes, but Dad wasn't rich. My grandparents were doctors. My Dad took over my grandfather's monopoly of hotels and resorts after he died, since my mother didn't want to."

"I can't imagine your Dad playing Ms. Pac Man. Or any other game."

I grinned, "He's an adult now, Finn."

"Whatever. Hey, out of curiosity," he licked his lips. "Did he buy her flowers? I've been told it's very important to buy your date flowers. Even when she says it's not a date."

"It wasn't and yes he did." he chuckled as I vehemently turned my head to glare at the on-going movie.

"Have you been on a lot of dates?" he asked with a note of hesitation.

"You mean... with different people?"

"Yeah."

"No." I nibbled my lip. "You?"

"Huh," he intoned softly. "A few. With this one girl in Florida. She wasn't my girlfriend, it was just a summer fling." I nodded. "Was Sebastian your boyfriend?" I shook my head, a brief smile touching my lips. "Was it anyone I know?"

I hesitated; Finn had briefly met Jackson. But what was a little white lie? I shook my head.

"He wasn't someone really... important. I mean, I thought he might be, but I was wrong." I wouldn't say more than that.

We fell into a quiet harmony, watching bits and pieces of the movie. For a short time, we were alone in a pocket-dimension no one could find. It felt like we were a—

"Valerie?" Ava's voice echoed loudly. "Dinner's ready!"

"We're—I'm coming!" I yelled back, too afraid to move. Was she at the doorway? No, she would've said something to Finn too. I tried to pull away, but Finn tightened his hold on my hand; he threw a quick glance behind the couch and whatever he saw—or didn't see—earned me a quick peck on the lips. He got to his feet…

"Finn,"

"Yeah?"

I deliberated quickly: I liked Finn. Was it self-respecting to be with him if he only wanted me for my body? No. Did that matter when I was happy? Ms. Coleman would dish out a pros and cons answer and if this were any other guy, so would I.

"Tonight, after everyone's asleep, come to my room. If you want." I added fanning my eyelids without thinking.

The gray in Finn's eyes melted into boiling mercury. Hot damn. Our fingers detached, leaving my hand numb. As if I'd stuck it in deep snow for kicks.

"I want to. Very, very much." Finn blinked, bewildered, after the words jumped out of his mouth. A rare blush tinted his cheeks. Almost like he hadn't intended to admit that to the world around us. I chose to believe he was embarrassed by his eagerness and not because he felt ashamed for wanting a messy, broken person like me.

***

For all Gabe's vices and shameless sex-escapades, he could cook. Trip bragged that the paella had been so delicious because Ava helped. Gabe took it all in stride, good mood and jokes. Since this afternoon, I'd been paying closer attention to the way Sharon would glance at her childhood friend. She hid it well, but a pit of dismay dug itself in my stomach for her.

Every night a different person got to pick a drinking game. Tonight, was Emma's turn.

"Never have I ever." She declared with a smirk, leaning back into the comfortable lunar shaped couch. She was sitting between Finn and Gabe. I was next to Sharon. The love birds were curled up together. "I can't believe none of you suggested it before, this game's gold for digging up dirt on each other." I vaguely remembered playing this on graduation night.

"Only if you don't lie." Trip deadpanned.

Sharon tucked two braids behind an ear.

"It's no fun if you lie."

Gabe, the self-proclaimed Keeper of Booze, poured a round of vodka and added lemon juice. Ava scowled momentarily at the cup like it was Satan out to drag her to hell. She did that every time; Thomas always finished her drink because of her self-imposed limit. I admired her for having such good control.

"Never have I ever kissed a guy." Sharon kicked off without waiting another beat. I never saw someone unhinge their jaw so fast—like a snake—to consume alcohol.

Ava took a small sip as I reached for my cup… I blinked at Gabriel. Hell, we all did. Thomas included. Gabriel was drinking. Okay. Well. Aware of our gawking, Gabe sloshed the burning vodka mixed juice before swallowing.

"Sharon dared me. I don't back down from dares." Sharon laughed.

"Never have I ever called someone the wrong name while having sex." Trip threw out.

Gabe shot him a lingering glare.

"Are you two ganging up on me?" Gabriel grumbled before taking a smaller swig than before. "Never have I ever watched porn."

"Come on, man." Finn scoffed a laugh grabbing his cup. Ava was the only one who didn't drink. "Really?"

"Just leave her alone." Thomas kissed Ava's temple looking infinitely pleased by Ava's innocence.

Ava wrapped an arm around Thomas' neck.

"Does catching Gabe and Sharon doing it count as porn?"

Sharon sputtered a laugh. Honestly, no one was straight faced. Sharon was holding her stomach at one point, tears springing to her eyes.

"Never have I ever… had sex while on my period." Emma glanced around. I put my hands up in a nope gesture. Sharon waved a hand about, still tittering. Ava shyly reached for her cup; I smoothed the sudden surprise on my face.

Gabe opened his mouth and Thomas pointed a finger at his best friend—a warning. Gabe's mouth slammed shut; I giggled. We diverted from sexy topics to more mundane things for a bit, going an entire round. Gabe poured refills. After a third round—or was it the fourth? My brain was getting foggy on details. Anyway, Ava wasn't drinking anymore. Her eyes were drowsy, and her face was slack. I should put a break on my own drinking—I was more than just lightly buzzed. How did I know? Because I constantly found myself looking at the set of Finn's wide mouth, the wavy indie hair—I wanted to dig my fingers into that hair, mess it up more.

I giggled.

Emma was swaying side to side. Emma was a tipsy boat. Oh my… What did I just think? I covered my mouth—too late. I was laughing and giggling like mad.

"Well, she's drunk." Gabe smirked waving his hand at me. I smiled like an idiot—I knew I had. "What do you say to strip Poker now, Valerie?"

I squinted my eyes.

"I'm tipsy… not stupid. No. No." a round of laughter later, I noticed I'd been saying no while nodding yes. Emma tipped a little too much to the side—knocking into Finn's side. I knew I couldn't stare like a creeper, that would be bad… for… reasons. Finn looked down at Emma's curly hair, her eyes sought out his and she placed a hand on his shoulder—it quickly slid to his left pectoral.

CRACK

"Valerie!" I snapped to lucidity—well, I tried to. Thomas was suddenly near me, grabbing my right hand, talking. "Jesus, you're bleeding. Do you have a first aid kit? Shit, I think there's glass in there."

I blinked many times before Finn and Emma were replaced by a broken cup and a bleeding hand. I'd been putting down the cup, my brain supplied sluggishly, I was putting it down and smashed it against the table's side—full force. There was a cut running along my palm, bleeding. Red droplets fell on the deck floor. Someone yelled something loudly and Thomas was replaced with Gabe sitting beside me.

"Open your hand, Valerie. I need to get the glass out." Still transfixed by the cut, I did as told, wincing. "That's big." Big? I lifted wide eyes to his, but Gabe was busily working with a pair of tweezers to pluck out the shards. I noticed a light was shining on the wound. I followed the light… Thomas was angling his phone at my hand.

Slowly, I realized Thomas was doing something nice for me. The smile I sent his way was wiped clean off by a grimace. My instinct was to pull the burning mess that was my hand out of Gabe's care.

"Ow!"

"Don't be a baby about this. It just stings a little."

"You poured vodka on her cut, Gabe!" Sharon's voice drifted from… somewhere.

"I don't have anything else." He barked; I saw he was dabbing at my blood with a towel. "I need something to wrap her hand with."

"Finn went looking."

"Finn?" I whispered in a small voice. No one heard with all the fussing. I asked if I needed stitches, Gabe kept saying no. Maybe I asked more than once? He sounded exasperated. I made a face each time Gabriel pressured the hurt palm. I drifted through memories of a marble floor covered in blood, images of my father hovering me, images of Simone crying and saying it was her fault for not paying more attention to me—that wasn't right. Simone always paid attention. A phantom pain pulsed on my wrist; that was impossible, there was a faded scar, no bleeding wound.

I wasn't bleeding out. I was fine. I took a steadying breath; the remaining alcohol in my system made it hard not to panic as more images from that night surfaced. I remembered the pain of digging the scissor into soft flesh that burned and puckered angrily, pooling with blood… No, that's not what this is—I'm okay. I was stupid then. I made a mistake, I could've… died. This was just a lousy cut because of broken glass.

"I couldn't find a first aid kit. Here," my eyes fluttered into small slits. Finn was crouching near Gabe, in front of me. "I cut up a t-shirt."

Gabe wasted no time replacing the towel with alien, soft fabric. He wrapped the navy thing quickly, with honed skill. Where had he learned how to bandage someone so well? I wasn't in my right mind if I was so mystified by Gabe's skills. Gabriel tied the makeshift bandage on the back of my hand.

"It's going to sting for a few days, but it's shallow. Your guts aren't going to come pouring out."

"Gabe!" Sharon again. Gabriel rolled his eyes at his on-and-off sex partner. "Val, are you okay? You look pale."

"Do you want to throw up?"

I shook my head minutely keeping myself grounded in the present.

"I want to go…" I trailed off, shaking all of a sudden.

"Want to go where, sweetheart?" Sharon asked cajolingly.

"To bed…" I think. "Where's Ava?"

"Ava fell asleep. Do you want water?" I said no; the light coming from Trip's phone went out. "How about food?"

"I just… want to sleep…" I coiled in on myself, feeling another batch of chills running amok.

"I'll take her upstairs and make sure she's fine. My sister gets like this sometimes, I'm used to it." I knew that smooth, somewhat deep timber. I peeked at Finn as he maneuvered toward me, reaching for my arms to get me to stand. I faltered the first step; Finn was strong, keeping me upright. "I will." He answered something I couldn't catch. We took small steps into the house, even slower ones up the spiraling staircase.

I curled in the middle of my bed, making a soft, content sound.

"This wasn't how I expected tonight to go." a request drifted in my mind; it related to Finn. The mattress sunk a little. My eyes cracked open. A hand brushed disorderly strands from my cheeks. "Do you feel sick? You've gotta tell me if you do. It's dangerous to fall asleep like that."

"No," I murmured, feeling like minced meat. "Do you have to leave?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Valerie."

"Okay." My eyes started falling shut—only for my lids to pop back open. "Finn, I…" his eyes were on mine as he stroked my hair. I couldn't remember a time when Jackson did it. "…this…" I held up my injured hand. "You said something… about a shirt?"

"I cut up a t-shirt. Don't worry about it, I can afford a new one."

"You can bill me."

"There's also that option." An easy smile shaped his mouth. Reassured by his presence, my eyelids slipped shut.

"I drank a lot." Finn hummed. "It's Gabe's fault…" Finn's chuckle caused the corners of my lips to tip up.

"Gabe does pour a lot more vodka than juice."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm… lightly buzzed." I made a pfft sound, burrowing into my pillow. "I'm larger than you, I need more alcohol to get wasted."

"…not wasted…"

"Sure."

"Finn?" I opened my eyes with colossal effort. He was staring straight at me with that magnetizing intensity I found so alluring. But also, something else. I shifted again, making a face; these clothes were uncomfortable, and my bra felt too restraining. I forgot whatever I'd been about to say, tilting into a sitting position.

The hand diligently stroking my hair stopped, moving to a shoulder, steadying me.

"I wanna change out of these." I slurred, sniffing, glaring at nothing in particular.

Finn glimpsed at the door; he gave my shoulder a squeeze, mutely telling me to stay put, before he got up and locked the door. That was smart. I pointed at the closet when he asked where my nightclothes were. Finn tossed my silken shorts and top next to me just as I chose to ignore his mute order and decided to shift onto my knees. The world tilted off its axes.

"Christ," he hissed under his breath, sounding more like a curse. His hands were holding me upright. "Why can't you listen to me?"

I squinted hard and long at him. Dazed.

"You didn't say anythin'." Finn didn't reply. Maybe because my hands were tracing his biceps; I felt the hard muscles beneath my fingers. Swimming did him good. He was lean and strong, he was hot.

"Thanks."

"Huh?" my eyes drifted from his neck—where I'd been looking because… Only God knows why.

He didn't bother hiding the cocky smirk. I really had no idea what he was thanking me for, Finn didn't elaborate. Instead, his hands drifted to my back, undoing the dress's zipper. I leaned on his chest while he unzipped me; it seemed to take hours. Was he being slow on purpose or was my brain that ditzy? Finn brushed his fingers on my shoulders lowering the thin straps down my arms. Soon, the dress pooled around my waist. Nausea tucked itself in a small, black corner of my mind—feeling like a distant memory; all I felt looking at Finn, half exposed, was lust and a strong need to have his hands on my…

"Can you undo my bra?" it was a husky whisper.

Finn kept his gaze firmly on mine as both his hands slipped behind me again. The latch came undone in seconds, releasing my breasts; the lacy champagne-colored bra fell between us. There was a strong throb between my legs; I channeled my want to Finn by kissing him on the chin, a little clumsily.

"You're drunk."

"So?" I leaned closer, breasts swinging and hitting his t-shirt clad chest.

"So," he dragged out, wrapping an arm around me anyway. "We're not doing this now. You said you wanted to sleep, remember?"

"I can change my mind…"

"I'm aware." I nuzzled his neck, dropping a series of fleeting kisses at the base of this throat. Finn's hands curled on my shoulders. "Valerie, you're making it harder."

I gave him a tipsy grin, "Isn't that the point?"

Finn's eyes widened before they lit with amusement.

"Clever word play, but..." I grabbed Finn's right hand, guiding it down to my left breast. He swallowed so hard I saw his Adam's apple bob. I rocked forward—pushing into his body, into his hand. Please, I chanted through my eyes, coming off as a needy idiot. I wasn't in full control, I was feeling less and less real and more like I was in a dream. I kissed him and...

The strong taste on his mouth shook my stomach, causing a strong churning; bile climbed up my throat. I tore away, twisting to the side—I pressed a hand against my mouth. Finn quickly pulled me off bed, dragging me into the bathroom...

Too late. I threw up on the dark marble floor. Finn slid to his knees, just as I did. My hair got gathered up and pulled away from my face. Through the dry heaving, I felt a rush of shame; I was on my knees, a dress pulled down to my waist, with my breasts hanging out in the open. The emotion burned just as badly as my mouth. Tears gathered in my eyes from the bitter taste of vomiting.

"This is why I said it wasn't a good idea."

I heaved a cough, "Your mouth tastes like a bar."

"What? You're pinning this on me?" his voice lost some huskiness, increasing its volume.

Frustration boiled over.

"This is embarrassing enough as it is, you don't need to be yelling at me!" I draped an arm across my chest, in hopes of saving some shred of dignity.

"You're the one who's yelling!" I gave him a watery sharp side-glare. Finn cocked his head, "Alright, now I was yelling, but you started it." I pursed my lips at his even stare. "Are you feeling better?" I took a minute to check for the ongoing war in my stomach; nothing but a dull pang; I nodded. "Come on then." Finn helped me up for the millionth time tonight; we bee-lined the pool of vomit to the large sink.

I flipped the faucet upward and splashed water on my face, washing the horrible taste from my mouth. Through it, Finn vanished and reappeared with my pajamas. He kept a hand on my arm as I shimmied off the dress—the dress I would be sure to throw out, hoping the memory of this fiasco went with it—and practically dragged me to bed once I was ready. I hunkered under the silk sheet avoiding looking at him.

"I'm going to clean that up. Get some sleep, Valerie."

I heard him unlock the door. I wanted to apologize. I got the nagging feeling I should before he left the room. The shame swamping me flared every single instinct to let him go, to use this moment to drive him away.

I pushed myself on an elbow, "Finn."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Are you going to be sick again?"

"No… I… I'm just… Sorry."

A soft smile graced his face.

"You better be asleep once I get back." he gave me a pointed nod before walking out.

Finn's POV

After sharing Valerie's "health report" with everyone still awake, I grabbed a mop and bucket to clean up the mess. For once, Trip didn't make colorful comments, which I was eternally grateful for. Just as I was leaving the kitchen, Emma walked in. Her face was earnest with concern. It crossed my mind that Valerie would like to know this girl cared about her well-being.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I got it." It wasn't the first time I had to clean up someone's mess. April's underage drinking went unnoticed by our parents thanks to me; anytime she got hammered she would text me to pick her up, sometimes she couldn't keep her liquor down.

"Okay. After that's over with, do you want to do anything? I'm not tired." Emma's face was pretty much glowing with energy. These last days, I learned Emma ran on some unknown energy source. Her natural state was 'active'. "We could play pool."

I leaned the mop's handle on a shoulder. My index finger tapped the handle impatiently. I needed—wanted—to check on Valerie.

"I'm pretty beat."

Her face fell.

"Oh."

"Tomorrow?" I didn't want to seem like a jackass; the girl was pretty cool. Emma's smile rivaled those on toothpaste commercials.

When I pushed inside Valerie's room the bedside light was still on. The raven-haired girl in question didn't stir; I carefully shut the door. Valerie was curled up, gripping the sheets with her uninjured hand. The acrid smell caused my own stomach to twist. I filled the bucket in the large round bathtub and made quick work of mopping. About twenty minutes later, I was in my room. I didn't want to stay in here, though. I was sitting on the edge of bed, thinking about the girl across the hall.

Valerie. Valerie. Valerie…

"God," I scrubbed my face. "I'm going nuts."

I wanted to stay with her. We could get caught—scratch that, we would get caught. Gabe and Sharon got caught. Not like they'd been going for stealth or secrecy. We were—Valerie was. She didn't want them to know; I saw it on her face the morning after we had sex. These last days had been a new slice of hell. I thought not kissing her would be hard and it was true, but not talking to her… It wasn't any easier. I thought it would be, though; ninety-eight percent of the times we talked, we ended up arguing.

Still, here I was, sitting in my boxers replaying the moment Trip jolted from his seat. The moment I saw Valerie's hand get sliced open by glass. I remembered how she'd been shaking on the way to her room.

I groaned.

Should I go? I wanted to go. I flexed my fingers, torn. Shit. No, she'd be pissed if we got caught. Right? Right. She was fine—she'd gotten it out of her system. If only I could do the same to the idea of her…