CinderEli

by Rosie Somers

  I shrugged.

  “Is this about Brad and his friends?”

  Angry heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks. “No.” It wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t even been thinking about Brad until she brought him up. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. I would be mortified if she found out that the reason I couldn’t concentrate, the reason I was sucking at life just then was because all I could think about was her, what it would feel like to kiss her, to touch her. And her hands on me weren’t helping me rein in my wayward thoughts. I had to get out of here.

  I was out of the chair and halfway to Mr. Carlson before I’d even consciously made the decision to ask him for a pass, but when I got to his desk, the words were easy to come by. “May I use the bathroom?”

  Mr. Carlson looked up from the stack of papers he was grading and raised his eyebrows at me, but in the end, he took out his passes and filled the top one out, then tore it from the book with an audible rip. “Don’t be long.” Then he went back to grading.

  I shot a glance at the clock above the whiteboard behind him. There were still twenty-five minutes left before class got out. And I had no intention of returning before the bell rang. I’d come back and get my stuff after I was sure Katie was gone.

  Five

  Katie

  My bedroom door creaked open, but I ignored it and brushed my mascara wand across my eyelashes one more time before tucking it back in the tube.

  “Oh-em-gee, Katie, you look amazing! Like a real faerie princess,” Maya came to my side at the vanity mirror and gingerly fingered the gauzy shimmer lace layered over my silk bodice. Her aquamarine mermaid costume, complete with matching demi-mask, was equally as shimmery and far more revealing than my own silver and lace, floor-length gown. The sea-inspired blue color was a perfect complement to her olive skin tone and waist-length, auburn curls. Her look was exotic where mine was fair, and our personalities were just as polar as our looks.

  Maya had been my closest friend since we were babies, and I was thrilled to have her at my party, and helping me to get ready for it, too. But, even after all these years, it still drove me a little nuts when she started a conversation with oh-em-gee.

  “Thanks. You look great, too.” I stood up from the vanity and made for my walk-in closet to grab my shoes. The clear heels coated with a light dusting of silver glitter had been a last minute, but much needed addition to my costume. I claimed them from the top shelf of my shoe rack and carefully slipped my feet into them. “Ready?” I asked Maya as I emerged from my closet.

  “Ready,” she agreed and linked her arm in mine. On my way to the door, I reached out with my free hand and grabbed my mask from the vanity. The shimmery, silver number was barely big enough to cover my eyes and would do nothing to hide my identity. It was purely for show. I couldn’t attend my own masquerade party without a mask. With Maya’s arm still looped through mine, I managed to tie the ribbons together behind my head, securing the mask in place over my eyes without even messing up my hair.

  By the time we made it to the landing at the top of the stairs, my arm was starting to sweat where Maya’s touched it, and I was trying to think of a polite way to extricate myself from her hold. “This is going to be so much fun,” I told her, pulling my arm out of hers and clapping my hands together. Then I set both hands on the banister and leaned over to survey the foyer below.

  At the bottom of the stairs, partygoers were already milling about, moving from one downstairs room to another, exploring. Still more guests were arriving—some servant, or caterer, or whatever, I didn’t recognize was opening the door every few seconds it seemed like, to allow another group to enter.

  “Hey hey, beautiful!” Brad’s voice sounded from somewhere behind me.

  I closed my eyes and counted to three, hoping that when I opened them and turned around, Brad wouldn’t be there. Maybe if I wished hard enough, he wouldn’t even be here at the party. Inviting him had been a mistake. I knew that when I did it, but even if I hadn’t invited him, he would have come anyway. Brad was like that, too cocky to realize when he wasn’t wanted. And he definitely wasn’t wanted. If I could have been rid of him completely when we broke up however many months ago, I would have been perfectly happy. But I just couldn’t seem to shake him.

  Sure enough, when I turned around, there he stood, dressed as a vampire, complete with fake blood at the corners of his mouth. “Brad. You do know it’s a masquerade right?”

  “Chyeah, totally. That’s why I’m wearing this costume.” He posed proudly, voguing the way he must think a vampire would with hands on hips, feet askance, and fangs showing.

  What did I ever see in him?

  “Ooh, who is that?” Maya’s question drew my attention away from my mistake of an ex-boyfriend and toward the front door. The guy standing in my foyer hadn’t drawn only Maya’s attention, but also the attention of several of the other kids loitering in the entryway. And with good reason. He was dressed head to toe in black, from his scuffed motorcycle boots to his black denim pants to his black T-shirt under a black leather jacket. And he’d topped it all with a black motorcycle helmet, aviator sunglasses, and a black half-mask over his mouth. He was impossibly tall and lanky, but his lean build didn’t make him any less imposing. His look, his whole countenance was both alluring and dangerous at the same time.

  “So, babe, when’s the music going to start? I’m saving my best dance moves for you.”

  Ugh. Brad.

  “Yeah, yeah. Later.” I waved him off like a pesky mosquito and made for the stairs, making sure to place each step carefully, with purpose. A few minutes ago, my heels had seemed so perfect; now they seemed ridiculous because they were keeping me from getting downstairs to figure out who this mysterious bad boy was.

  I kept my eyes glued to him as I descended, and my heart sank when he started toward the great-room-turned-temporary-ballroom. A quick scan of the room ahead of him proved that it was already overcrowded. If he made it in there before I could get to him, it would take me quite some time to find him again. I picked up the pace, practically racing down the final few steps. On the last one, my right heel caught in the hem of my gown. I grabbed tight to the banister and lifted my foot to remove my heel from my dress.

  By the time I’d extricated my foot from the lace, my mystery guest had disappeared into the crowd beyond the foyer.

  “Hey, Katie! Great party,” Amanda Simpkins sidled up to me and wrapped me in a hug. Her too-large nest of teased red curls tickled my nose in an unpleasant way, smothering me with the scent of too much hair product. “Happy birthday, Bestie!”

  Bestie? We were barely friends. She must have been trying to impress whoever she was with. I didn’t bother trying to figure out who she was trying to dazzle. Instead, I pulled out of her hug, patted her on the shoulder and took off for the ballroom, dodging other partiers on my way there.

  The room was even more crowded than I’d thought; I realized that as soon as I stepped through the arched entry. I skirted friends and acquaintances, stretching to see over their heads. Anything to possibly catch a glimpse of my mysterious biker. When did I start thinking of him as my biker?

  It didn’t matter. I’d lost him.

  I gave up my search and wove my way through the mob of dancing teenagers toward the edge of the room. They were suffocatingly close, and I needed space right then. The party had only just started, and already I needed fresh air. When I turned back to face the room, I spotted Brad and Maya both standing at the doorway to the foyer scanning the room for me.

  I ducked out onto the terrace before they spied me.

  Six

  Roman

  Katie was alone on the terrace when I stepped through the doors. My stomach twisted in a fit of nerves the second I saw her, and I ducked into the shadows behind the french doors.  Now, not only was I awkward and shy, but creepy, too. I couldn’t bring myself to step out into the light, though. What if she turned around and saw me? What if she recognized me behind the old motorcycle gear and
two-sizes-too-big-for-me leather boots I’d pilfered from my father’s closet? I removed the helmet and checked the mask over my face, testing its security and position under my sunglasses, then relaxed once I’d reassured myself my face was still mostly hidden.

  The music spilled out through the open doors, a soft, slow number that existed in perfect harmony with the beauty and peace of the dark terrace. The setting was like a world all our own. I let my gaze rove over her in a way I wouldn’t have had she known I was there—committing her every feature, every curve to memory. I fought the urge to remove my sunglasses to get a better look at her. I needed that extra layer of protection, even if for my own comfort. She was like a princess with the moonlight shining down on her, giving her blonde waves a silvery tone and lighting her skin as if the moon was a spotlight designed just for her. Even though she was facing away from me, looking down at the pool area, I could almost picture her soft, full lips with their pink pout, her gray-blue eyes with their exotic tear-drop shape, her button nose, and high cheekbones. She was perfection. And I was unworthy.

  I shouldn’t have come; I didn’t belong here. Doubts crowded in on me, and I shuffled back toward the entrance to the ballroom. Maybe I could escape quickly, and she would never know I’d been here. My too-large boot scuffed the ground, and I froze, hoping she hadn’t heard.

  She whirled with a startled smile, probably ready to greet whoever she found there. Her smile faltered when she saw me, but was back in full force when she spotted the helmet in my hand. “Hi!” She called and lifted her hand in a small wave.

  “Hi,” I repeated. I hadn’t intended to use a lower register, but my voice sounded deeper, more gravelly. Maybe it was from a subconscious effort to disguise any defining detail about myself. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t one of the cool kids. Sure, she’d invited me, but Brad had driven the point home that I just didn’t fit in with Katie’s crowd. She was so far out of my league, we weren’t even playing the same sport.

  Katie tilted her head to the side, giving my person a slow perusal from head to toe and back again. I needed to say something, anything, to distract her from what was clearly an attempt to identify me. “Like what you see?” I bit my tongue the second the words were out of my mouth. What was wrong with me? I didn’t talk like that.

  Katie smiled that slightly crooked grin of hers. “And what if I do?”

  Her words sent a little thrill through me, chasing away the worst of my nerves. Maybe I could pull this off. I was pretty well disguised, after all. Maybe, just for tonight, I could pretend I really was this devil-may-care biker. I could talk to Katie—flirt with Katie—like I couldn’t do when I was just me. I set my helmet down, checked the position of my mask over my face again, and pushed my sunglasses a little higher on my nose. Then I took a step toward her. “Well, then I would say the feeling is mutual.”

  Her smile softened into an almost self-conscious smirk, and she lifted a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She smoothed the other hand down the fabric of her dress. “Who are—”

  “Want to dance?” I cut her question off before she could ask it, avoiding the awkward place it would have left us when I tried not to answer. I held out my hand like I expected her to say yes.

  She didn’t disappoint, crossing the terrace in graceful steps and placing a small hand in mine. I pulled her into my arms in a move I’d only ever seen in movies—and never imagined I’d actually use myself. She seemed to melt against me, molding her body to mine, and laying her cheek to my chest.

  Then she took a deep breath and released it on a soft sigh. “You smell really good,” She whispered the words against my jacket. It was all the invitation I needed. I tightened my arms around her and began a gentle sway to the beat of the music. Katie followed my lead, moving with me as if we were one person, fluid, coordinated, perfectly in time with one another.

  When the song ended and another began, I didn’t skip a beat, just shifted into a new sway, a new set of slow moves with her in my arms. I would dance like this all night if Katie let me, but I wanted more. I wanted to live this fantasy to the fullest.

  I wanted to kiss her.

  I was a man on a mission, expertly guiding our dance steps toward the shadows until I had Katie safe within the darkness behind the patio doors. I slowed my dance moves and softly pressed Katie against the brick wall behind her. I couldn’t see her face through my sunglasses, and I took a chance that it would be dark enough to hide my features if I lifted them out of the way, setting them on top of my head. With the glasses out of the way, I still couldn’t make out the details of her face. Hopefully, that meant that she couldn’t make out mine either.

  Emboldened by that idea, I slipped my half-mask down under my chin. The air was cool on my face, sending little prickles of awareness across my lips as I imagined pressing them against Katie’s. Finally, I worked up the nerve to make my move.

  I dipped my head and laid the softest of kisses across her mouth. I wanted more, wanted to show her in my kiss exactly how I felt about her, but I didn’t have the guts for that. So, I moved slow, came in for a second soft kiss, and slipped my tongue out to tease over her lips. She parted them on a gasp, and I took that as my cue to deepen the kiss.

  Kissing Katie was like coming home, it was comfort and sweetness and exhilaration all at once. I swirled my tongue over hers, and she reciprocated, giving as much as she was taking. When I finally pulled back, she nipped playfully at my bottom lip.

  “You’re a good… dancer.” She broke the silence, but her soft voice didn’t break the mood.

  I chuckled at her compliment. “Back at ya.”

  Eventually, the beat picked up, and unable to justify holding her close anymore, I let my arms fall away from her. I was quick to move my mask back into place and pull my sunglasses down over my eyes before I took a step back.

  Katie’s expression was almost regretful as she removed her hands from behind my neck and I widened the space between us. “Do I know you?” she asked, eyeing my person with more than just passing scrutiny.

  The idea that she could figure out who I was set off a firestorm of nervous energy in my veins, and I shoved my hands deep into my pockets to keep from fidgeting. “No,” I told her, and I wasn’t entirely lying. She didn’t really know anything about me.

  “What’s your name?” She stepped forward, and I instinctively took a step backward.

  “Eli.” I gave her my middle name, also not a lie.

  “Eli…” she repeated, watching me consideringly. “Are you sure we haven’t met? You seem so familiar.”

  I had to get out of there before she figured me out. “I, uh, gotta hit the road, but thanks for the dance, princess.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I spun on my heels and all but ran for the terrace doors, snatching my helmet up and shoving it onto my head as I fled. I zig-zagged through the crowd inside the ersatz ballroom, and was out the front door and racing down the marathon of steps in no time flat.

  “Wait, Eli!” Katie’s voice sounded from somewhere behind me, somewhere too close for comfort. I was only about halfway to the bottom, and I lost my concentration—and my footing. My foot slid out of my boot, and I stumbled down a handful of steps before catching myself.

  I froze, unsure if I should go back from my boot or just keep going. The click-clacking of Katie’s heels on the stone steps as she descended after me made up my mind for me. I righted myself and took off again, limping my way down the stairs two at a time. Dad’s motorcycle seemed a hundred miles away, but I finally made it. I swung a leg over and kicked it upright in one smooth move. The engine turned over easily, and revved dramatically when I took off. I tried hard not to look at Katie on my way by, but my gaze drifted to her without my consent. She stood at the bottom of the steps, her expression both sad and confused, and for a moment, I considered staying, telling her the truth, risking my heart for the possibility that she might feel the same way about me as I felt about her.

  But at the last
second, I caught site of Brad coming down the steps behind her, and his arrival on the scene knocked me back into my place. Katie and I were from two different worlds, and I’d made a huge mistake forgetting that.

  Like what you read?

  Read more for free at RosieSomers.blogspot.com

  Other books by Rosie Somers:

  Pride Goeth Before

  Seventeen-year-old Gabriella Pierce is used to taking care of herself, but she’s about to become responsible for a whole lot more. When she gets a visit from three men claiming to be stewards of rings imbued with the powers of the cardinal sins, her life is changed irrevocably.

  Gabby is the steward of Pride.

  To make matters worse, she’s falling hard for fellow steward, Grant Barnett, and he hates her guts. Now Gabby has to learn to protect the world from Pride without letting her feelings for Grant get in the way.

  Because I’m Disposable

  Callista Tanner was in the bathroom slitting her wrists the night her father took a fatal plunge down the stairs. People around her think she attempted suicide because she found him dead—or worse, because she had a guilty conscience. Few know the truth; Michael Tanner had been beating her for years.

  The freedom that should have come with her father's death becomes a cage of rumors and self-doubt. Callie seeks escape in the most destructive ways, bringing her emotional scars to the surface for the world to see.

  One bright spot exists in Callie's dark world.

  Lincoln Devaux refuses to let Callie sink fully into the depths of her own depression, stepping into her life when she needs someone the most. She tries to push him away, but Link is determined to save Callie from herself. Even when she doesn't think she's worth saving.

  About the Author

  Rosie Somers is a beach-going book addict who's been crafting stories since before she learned her ABCs. She writes YA things, and she sings—mostly just in the shower. She can most often be found volunteering with local animal rescues, crocheting funky hats for her friends, or eating herself into the poorhouse at Chipotle. Her fondest dream is to one day own a goat.