Page 21 of The Masks We Wear

She rotates back to her book, grabbing a few and placing them on the shelf. “I know. And whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened—whatreallyhappened, I’m here.”

I sigh, nodding as I rest my head back, relaxing for the first time in what feels like forever.

Remy finishes sorting a few minutes later and goes to grab us popcorn. She puts on Sleepy Hollow and curls up next to me, a happy glow radiating from her body. Little does she know it, but in the few months since I’ve met her, she’s saved me.

It wouldn’t hurt to return the favor. “So this Halloween party. You really wanna go?”

She nods, hugging a pillow to her chest. Her eyes peer up at me from her long lashes, and she smiles.

“Are you going to dress, you know slu—” The pillow she was holding connects with my face. “Alright, alright, we’ll go.”

She giggles, snatching the pillow and falling back into it. “I mean, even though you basically have to at this point, thank you, Spencer.”

I grin, leaning into the futon. Even though my entire life is upside down, and danger literally lives in my backyard, I’m content. I feel at peace. I just hope it carries over tomorrow.

THE NEXT DAY,Lily doesn’t show up to class, even though, according to Remy, she was at school.

It doesn’t bother me. In fact, it’s the perfect break. I’m not sure I’d be able to be in the same room with her after all the shit that’s happened over the past few weeks.

But when she doesn’t come the next day, annoyance pricks at my skin. I know I can do the project on my own; hell, I prefer it. But it’s inconsiderate of her, especially since she supposedly needs the grade.

Wednesday comes and passes, and still, she doesn’t come. I find myself getting irritable at the slightest inconvenience.Why am I letting her get under my skin?It shouldn’t even matter.

This is ridiculous.It’s Thursday, and I’m damn near done with the research part. I have a lot of things to draw out and label, but I need to start collecting data. Tomorrow I meet with the head custodian after school, and after that, I have to start the actual experiment.

I guess I may have to ask Remy after all.

Friday. Five days. It makes sense now. She’s pulling the same shit I did last week. How fucking childish. Even so, I find it in me to tamper down the anger brewing under my skin and make it through the day. She can’tnotcome forever after all.

When the dismissal bell rings, the campus clears out pretty fast. I assume everyone left to get ready for the game tonight or pregame. Maybe both. That is one part of Idaho I miss. William and I, drunk, out in a field with a flock of other people. There was no light pollution, so the stars scattered across the black sky were incredibly bright. We didn’t have a care in the world.

In those rare moments, I didn’t have to think. I could just surrender to the intoxicating bliss and beauty of the world. And for two seconds, it didn’t feel like it was out to crush me.

I pass by an open window on my way to the second floor. The field is full of football players running drills and the band marking seats. I avert my eyes when I see the cheerleaders emerging from the locker room. No point in making my day worse by accidentally seeingher.

After walking all the way to the back, near the access elevator, I find the custodial manager’s office and knock on the door. After a few moments, an older woman opens it. Her chestnut hair lays back in a tight bun, and though her amber eyes are sunken slightly, they have a familiarity I place in a matter of seconds.

“Mrs. Conley?”

I remember meeting her once, by pure accident. It was sixth-grade summer, a couple of years after her dad bolted, and we basically lived in the treehouse when I came to visit. We had run out of popcorn, and I went back inside to get some. I almost pissed myself when I saw her poking around the pantry because I thought someone had broken into the kitchen, until she turned around, a warm smile on her face. She introduced herself, and we briefly talked while I waited on the microwave to finish our snack. The last thing I recall was how sad I was walking back outside. How I had just talked to Lily’s mom longer than Lily probably had her whole life. Even worse was she was really fucking nice.

“Spencer! Look at you! Oh, dios mío, look at how much you’ve grown.” Lily’s mother swings her brittle arms around my neck, and I haphazardly hug her back, surprised she even remembers me. “Mi hija didn’t tell me you were back.”

That statement confused me.Why would she?Not because Lily and I are estranged, but because Lily never talked to her mom. Then it hits me. I bet the woman doesn’t even realize I know that. It strikes a feeling of pity for Lily that I quickly blow out. Fuck her.

Releasing her, I run a hand through my hair, and stop to massage the base of my neck. I shift on my feet not sure what to say, and instead ask what I’m really curious about. “I didn’t know you worked here. I would have come and said hi before.”

She waves a brittle hand around. “Honestly, querido, I try to keep it a secret just as much as Liliana. Only working while the kids are gone, staying to myself. This life,” she pauses, and I’m surprised by her forwardness. She shakes her head as if recollecting her thoughts, a brown tendril falling from her bun. Looking at her now, it’s crazy how much she looks like the Liliana I knew…

“Anyway, you wanted to see me about a room?”

TEN

Sitting on the barstool, I stroke the half-empty green bottle in front of me. My black stiletto nail trails down the long skinny neck, stopping at the label before it drifts up again. It’s almost as if the shape is purposeful—warning those of its contents, reminding them to drink it in small doses.

My mom doesn’t know I saw her pour it in her coffee cup. But I did.

I always do.

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