Page 7 of The Masks We Break

Just a couple more, and he’ll be satisfied enough to end our spar. I shuffle on my feet, keeping my defensive stance. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t give to just attack. To show him just how quick I can be. How strong I really am. But I know better. It was a mistake I made a long time ago. The last mistake I ever made. And anytime I consider it, I look in the mirror at the gray eye staring back at me and remember it’s not worth it.

Because no matter how much we think we want something, we rarely everneedit. Our dreams are dreams because, in our heads, they are perfect, without flaw or struggle. But once we achieve those long-sought-after fantasies, they morph into nightmares. They are tainted with the inability to live up to all we thought and riddled with problems we didn’t perceive.

And I don’t just mean the desire to hit my father back instead of taking every lick he has to throw. I meaneverything. Like landing that job you didn’t realize came with all that extra work or getting the car without knowing how many additional expenses go with it. Or maybe the girl. The one so pure you think she might make you feel something... but you realize instead, you’ll darken her light.

There is no such thing as fairy tales—just fool’s gold.

FOUR

Of all the possible days my alarm could have chosen to malfunction, it picked today. My first actual day as a teaching assistant for Dr. Humphrey, a literature professor who teaches here at Solace. He’s not the nicest of guys and his first class of the semester starts in approximately forty-three minutes.

It shouldn’t be a huge problem considering I live so close to campus, but the man emailed his syllabus to me last night, way after the student center closed. I’d set my old-fashioned bell alarm clock, assuring I would have plenty of time to print his near-book-sized packets. And a clock my father swears by, instead of usingtechnology that can falter at any moment, failed me. So here I am, too tight leggings squeezing my thighs, my barely-on boots clattering against the cobblestone sidewalk, running into the student print shop at the speed of light.

Which is not something that I, a person who hasn’t so much as climbed a flight of steps in two years, should be doing.

My breath comes in short, unfulfilling pants as I rush through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors. Fortunately for me, most of the students who actually take early classes are already in them, leaving the shop empty.

Lucy, a sweet senior, leans against the front desk. Her long black beach curls cascade over her shoulders, pooling on the counter, covering her face in a slight shadow. She glances up from under a fan of beautiful fake lashes and smiles when I near.

“Hello, Miss Solace. What can I help you with?”

My chest tightens, an uncomfortable sensation taking root at her use ofmiss, but I don’t bother saying anything. It never does any good anyway.

I hold up a small flash drive, handing it to her with care. “Can you please print file DHS-FALL. Double-sided, three staples. I only need forty-nine copies for now, but I’ll need one hundred and seventy-eight by noon if possible, please.”

Lucy beams, her crooked smile lighting up the space between us. “Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you? Weather looks a little dark.”

She glances at me over her shoulder as she meanders to the back. “Want Ricky to drive you to class in his cart?”

Ricky appears from behind the back counter, switching places with Lucy. “Yes. Let me take you, Miss Solace.” His light blond hair lays in waves over his forehead, nearly hiding his cerulean eyes.

Again with thatword.I groan inwardly, managing to keep a straight face. But the feeling from before mutates into a slime, flowing down my back, coating each nerve, forcing a tremor out of me.

Ricky is a well-known frat president on campus and known to not be a nice guy. He’s roughed up a few initiates, and the only reason he’s still here, after the dozens of complaints filed against him, is his deep wallet. He paid for a few of those guys’ classes and agreed to volunteer for the student services department.

You know, giving back to the school and all.

A sudden crack of thunder rips through the air, shaking the store windows. It hasn’t started to rain, but I can say I don’t want to get caught in it if it starts. Especially with almost fifty packets of Dr. Humphrey’s syllabus. Plus, the golf cart will definitely get me through campus faster. I glance at the clock on the wall.

Twenty-three minutes.

Crap.“Okay. That’d be great, Ricky. Thank you.”

Ricky’s lips curl, exposing near-perfect teeth, and he sets some bound packets on the counter. He tugs on his bright purple Omega Phi hoodie and takes out a set of keys from his pocket before disappearing out the front.

The vaguest of thoughts cross my mind as I stare out of the door. I can’t help but wonder if he would be as sweet if my name weren’t on the university. Ifanyonewould treat me differently. But as soon as I think it, I already know my answer.

Lucy calls from the back, her voice seeping through the slightly ajar door. “Almost done! It’s got a few more.”

Just a few minutes later, she appears, handing over a canvas tote with my copies secured inside and hands back my flash drive. “Machine’s still going since we’re slow. The rest of your copies will be ready in a few. Want me to have Ricky bring them to your professor?”

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary.” I hold up a hand, shaking my head a little too quickly. “I’ll be back in an hour. Thank you so much, Lucy.”

“Sure thing, Miss Solace.”

My lips stretch into a tight smile before I exit and find Ricky at the bottom of the steps waiting in an atrocious golf cart. Vibrant purple paint stands out against the inner white leather seats and accents of gold—the perfect chariot to the prince of Omega Phi.

He bobs his head to some music in his earphones, and I can’t help but roll my eyes a little. This whole scene feels like something out of a corny movie from my eighties collection.

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