Page 64 of The Invite
Why do all the boys in this school look older than they are?
Kaid and his friend are both rough around the edges and not refined like the rest of their peers. I wonder what their families do.
“Please close the door, Kaid,” I command.
His gaze remains hard as he shuts the door and goes to sit at the back of the classroom beside his friend.
“I hope everyone had a great weekend,” I speak once everyone is settled. “In the last class, we read a chapter. However, today I want to discuss something else. A fun assignment.”
Turning around, I write one word on the whiteboard and hear intrigued gasps ring out behind me.
“Masks?” one of the students in the front row utters with a frown.
“Yes. Masks.” Rounding the desk, I lean against it, and ask, “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear this word?”
“Halloween.”
“Horror.”
“Masktok.”
I suppress a shiver at the answer and focus on the others.
The guy next to Kaid says, “Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.”
“Scream.”
“Biker men,” says Scarlett loudly over the others. I don’t miss the smirk she sends Kaid’s and his friend’s way.
The girls all sigh at her answer and collectively gasp, “Oh yes!”
“Nothing wrong with those answers. If I ask you from the world of literacy and history, what or who comes to mind?”
A hand rises from the middle of the row. I recognize the person from the bracelet and smile. “Yes, Capri?”
“The Great Gatsby.” Her voice is as timid and soft as I remember.
“Yes. Why do you think everyone is fascinated with masks? What’s the intrigue?” I ask the crowd, pacing to one side. “Is it just the anonymity? The thrill? Our curiosity?”
“I believe it’s all of the above,” Capri answers. “Everyone is attracted to mysteries in some degree or form and these men pose the biggest ones.”
“You’re right. The world wouldn’t be where it is today if we weren’t curious to solve mysteries,” I reply. “But what about these people? Why do they want to hide their identity? What motivates them?”
“They want to hide their ugly faces,” jokes Kaid’s friend.
“Could be,” I murmur, then trail off. “Mr.…?”
He straightens from his slumping position. “Wolf Tanner.”
“What else?”
“It’s the only way they can be who they truly want to be without judgment.” This comes from Scarlett in a surprisingly serious tone.
“Or a chickenshit way to do bad things and get away with it,” counters Kaid, gazing at Scarlett, who twists her neck to throw daggers at him.
Before she can respond with something mean and provoking, I reprimand him, “We’re not having a debate, Kaid. Would you care to tell the class what you think?”
“Sure.” Steepling his hands on the desk, he answers, “It’s about control and feeling powerful. Being the center of attention, yet not. A way to conceal the ugliness and sickness in oneself. And, of course, half of these men do it for the stupid girls throwing themselves at them despite the danger they emanate. A sure way to get laid.”
