Page 44 of Unmasking You

When the bell rings, I jump out of my seat, grab my lunch, and rush through the corridors, with all my focus on the destination ahead of me.

A few times, I wished I had the money to buy food at the cafeteria, but not today, because today I’ll have the chance to spend time with Shane. Alone. Or as alone as you can be at school.

Today, Shane doesn’t have to have lunch with his mates, so we’re meeting up to spend the lunch hour together. I’m eager, and my rushed steps show just how much I want to be with him.

I’ve been waiting for this. To have him to myself for a full hour. I suppress a giggle that’s ready to come out.

I even have a cake for him. He doesn’t need to know I baked it just because I wanted to give him something made by me. I wanted to make today as special as I could. I’m all nervous inside, like an exposed wire, as if my insides know something is going to happen.

I come to a halt when I spot Shane sitting next to a big vase containing a huge plant with long hanging leaves. The sun, so rare in March, illuminates him, making him look like a god, like he is the sun himself. At least in my eyes. Making him look like the god I believe he is. Gorgeous, kind, and always ready to help me. Me, poor, inept—at least in the way of the rich—Jamie.

Shane could have anyone, but instead he chooses to spend time with me.

I love the way his face brightens when he sees me, and I eagerly reciprocate, because when he smiles he makes my heart beat faster. My stomach fills with butterflies, and my feet move faster to reach him before he disappears, because if I don’t rush, I may lose something good.

“Hey, Jame,” he says as soon as I’m close enough to hear him, and my heart does a pirouette.

I love the nickname he gave me a couple of days after we met because it makes me feel special. I’ve noticed more than once that he always addresses others by their full name or by calling themmateorbro. I’m the only one he calls something different, and never with a generic word that could identify anyone else.

I must be special to him.

“Hi, Shane.” I’m too much of a chicken to give him a nickname.

Especially when the names I want to call him are not really fitting for a boy like him. I could never call him sweetie, love, or darling; I’m blushing just thinking about it. They seem so old, anyway.

I’d love to call him Blue, but I can’t really say that aloud because Shane—and everyone else, for that matter—would know I’m taken by his beautiful eyes.

I’m already an outsider. They’re all rich and have fancy things, while I’m the poor guy who came to this school on a scholarship because I’m clever. They can barely stand me, probably jealous of the bond Shane and I have. I’m sure if they find a weakness, they’ll use it against me. I’m not ready to test that theory, so I just need to keep my head down.

I just need to keep my thoughts and my feelings to myself so nothing can jeopardise what I have now.

Once we’re out of here—school, I mean—then, if I find the courage, I might tell Shane how much I admire him and how much I want to become like him. Maybe, if I’m brave enough, I’ll tell him how much I like him. If I’m lucky enough, he’ll share my feelings.

Being courageous is not one of my best features; I prefer spending my time with books, games, coding, baking, and being in the shadows. All things that can’t put you in danger.

Shane is the epitome of danger, passion, and love, all in one beautiful, hot body.

I close my eyes and school my face to avoid Shane reading the whole sequence of emotions shining brightly through them.

I sit next to him, leaving some space between us. We’re only friends, and friends don’t sit too close to each other. I distract myself by pulling out my sandwich and crisps.

I keep the cake hidden because after that pep talk I had with myself a second ago, I don’t want Shane to be aware of the strange feelings I have inside of me.

“Hey! What do you have there?” he says, indicating the piece of cake I was trying to hide.

“Cake?” I say, but it sounds like a question, and it makes Shane giggle. I can’t believe he’s still hot even when doing something ridiculous like giggling.

“Why are you hiding it?”

I ignore the question and instead ask one myself. “Do you want it?”

“Oh, yeah. As if you need to ask. I’m a sucker for sweet things,” he says, then winks at me.

Am I a sweet thing? I wish I were a sweet thing.

I shake my head, trying to stop these dangerous thoughts, as they can only bring trouble. I take my time giving the cake to him, but when his smile brightens the day more than the pallid sun, I have no regrets about baking it for him.

I watch him bite into it, and his eyes sparkle with delight when the sweetness reaches his tongue, and the moan he lets out should be illegal. My stupid dick needs to get the memo that we shouldn’t be interested in Shane.

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