Page 13 of Beautifully Wild

“I understand my friends have purchased tickets for you and your friends to attend the ball tonight.”

Is he serious? This is his first thought after what happened between us the other night. “We’re paying Michael back for the tickets,” I say quickly. “Will you be going?” I turn to gauge his reaction.

His eyes rise to meet mine, and we both know I’ve caught him checking me out.

“Under sufferance.” He turns and stares directly ahead at the elevator door as though wishing it would open.

“I’m sure no one is forcing you.”

The sarcasm in his chuckle matches my tone.

The elevator dings. The door opens, and I walk out without even a goodbye. Somehow, I managed to act cool around him, but the way my heart is pounding in my chest, I’m anything but calm.

My eyelids are artfully painted with powdered glitter. I’ve paid extreme attention to detail even though a lace mask will conceal half my face. I down another glass of bubbles, and joy pumps through my veins making me lightheaded with an understanding of what freedom is.

Not wild as my father believes.

Brave and free.

I pour another glass. This time, I sip it slowly while waiting for my friends who are still in the bathroom adding finishing touches to their makeup. My white gown fits like a glove, and I almost didn’t choose it in fear of looking washed out with my fair hair. Here, with sun-kissed skin and a holiday glow radiating from within, I feel anything but washed out.

“It’s time,” I say, urging my friends along. I pick up my phone and take a selfie.

With alcohol fueling my thoughts, I tap out the reply to Ethan I had been avoiding.

Eden:Rio is epic. I don’t want to come home. So, go ahead and get comfortable in my chair.

Btw, we all make mistakes. You need to learn from each one and not repeat the same shit.

Btw, stop calling me possum.

The sweet taste of hearing you call me that soured a long time ago.

Don’t feel guilty about us because I don’t. We are friends.

That is all.

Oh, and thanks for working for me.

I hit send and drop my phone in my bag, smiling from one jeweled ear to the other. I drain the last of my champagne and promise myself that tonight I’ll prove that I’m over Ethan, once and for all.

9

Samuel

Onenteringtheballroom,Samuel makes his way to the balcony. He finds a space in the far-right corner and remains there. The position allows him to inhale the clean ocean air, keep his distance from the crowd growing inside the French doors, and be prepared for whenshearrives.

He tugs at the bow around his collar and loosens the button beneath. It’s been years since he wore this attire. It’s a vast difference from the grass skirt he dons in Ulara.

He pulls at his shirt. The need to dress appropriately is impractical when the humidity is much the same as in the rainforest. He shakes his head. Society conforms many to unrealistic rules.

Samuel turns away from the ladies standing within arm’s reach of him and clicking selfies on their phone.

He stares out to the ocean.

It’s the one thing he misses, the one thing the rainforest doesn’t offer despite the clean running water streaming from the tepui—crystal clear water unpolluted by man. He smiles, thinking about hishome, and yet looks longingly to the sea. He makes a silent promise to swim before he leaves. He bows his head, his duty to his friends fulfilled for another year. He has proved his well-being. As for his sanity, they believe his anti-social behavior stems from living in solidarity. They know little of his life in Ulara.

Except Michael.

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