Page 6 of Unmasking You

I turn towards the voice, and a smiling face welcomes me. At that, some of the tension leaves my body, and I smile back. The teacher has salt-and-pepper hair, none of which is out of place, and the rest of her shouts money.

I take in the room, and I’m not surprised by how clean everything is. The walls are as white as snow, curtains as yellow as the sun, and even the air I’m breathing smells of money. The desks, evenly spaced, are pristine, as if they were just delivered. No scratches, no names, and no bad words in capital letters. It’s as if it’s their first day.

“Mr Wilson?” Mrs Brown’s voice brings my attention back to her.

“Yes?”

Her face scrunches, probably from my lack of manners. I’m probably too low class for her taste.

“Mr Campbell.”

As I turn, I nearly swallow my tongue. The boy she’s talking to resembles one of those models you see in magazines. He’s gorgeous.

Maybe Ishouldstop staring.

“Madam.”

His voice is deep and melodic, and I don’t totally understand why my skin is so sensitive to it.

I focus my attention back to what’s happening in the room. Even a clueless guy like me can understand how important it is for me to understand the dynamics and the correct way to present myself and act. I already stick out like a sore thumb because I don’t act all high and mighty like they do. I don’t smell of money, and I don’t speak posh.

That’s the way I should address her. If I could only pull it off, like Mr Campbell just did.

“Can you please show Mr Wilson around for a few days?”

It’s posed as a question, but it’s clear she is not expecting a no.

“Happy to, Mrs Brown.”

I must look like a rabbit caught in the headlights. My eyes have a mind of their own and insist on staring at him.

“Mr Wilson, you can take a seat next to Mr Campbell.”

“Yes madam.”

The smile she sends my way gives me a little breather. I can do this. Imustdo this. The well-being of my family depends on this.

I walk towards my guide. He’s not mine. And what the fuck am I saying? Internally, I shake my head, hoping to make it work properly.

“Hi,” Mr Campbell greets me as soon as I’m close enough. “I’m Shane,” he continues, and then smiles, and I blink a few times, blinded by how beautifulitis. How beautifulheis.

Dark brown hair and captivating ocean-blue eyes. The more I look into them, the more I want to fall into the ocean they so resemble. His smiling mouth shows his teeth, and they’re so straight, just like those actors you see on TV. He could actually be one. Or a model. His face is still kid-like, but he exudes an air of manhood. I could probably never compare to him. His skin looks so pale in comparison with his hair, and his body is filled in all the right places. I’m sure he has a flock of girls around him all the time trying to date him.

“Hi,” I say, but my voice is all broken, so I try again after taking a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Jamie,” I say, and like him I smile, but knowing—because I look at myself in the mirror every day—mine is nothing close to his.

“Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning, Mrs Brown.”

“Now that we’re all here, we can start.”

I zone out, too busy checking out everything without being too obvious; I don’t want to be told off on my first day. The class is bigger, but there are fewer students. The fortune they pay here must allow them to have smaller classes. I like it, and I can’t wait to see my timetable. I hope I have computer science. I really hope it’s better than the public school.

Programming, algorithms, writing code in Payton—that’s my jam. That stuff I understand. Being social? Being sought after? That’s not me. I’m more like a silent shadow or the person who stands in a corner looking out of place. I don’t do small talk. I don’t even know what small talk is. People say I talk like an encyclopaedia, and my small talk is discussing a code issue. So while normal people talk about TV programs and music, I talk about sequence and symbols.

“Jamie,” comes a whisper that getsallmy attention, and then a hand lands on my forearm. My body vibrates like my phone does when I put it on to charge. A zing spreads through me and sets panic off inside me.

What’s happening to me?

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