Chapter 43

Masks at the Dance

The Homecoming Dance was held in Orchard Valley’s gymnasium. The decoration committee had been busy decking out the place in a Halloween theme. Jack-o-Lanterns glowed as centerpieces on the refreshment tables. The black and red streamers fit Halloween well enough, but they were made even creepier with decorative cobwebs. A fog machine chugged away in the corner, projecting misty fog against the purple glow of a black light.

When Heather and Burton entered under the archway of black and red balloons, the check-in table was so dimly lit, they could barely see the person to whom they were speaking.

“Names?” asked the girl behind the check-in table. A small lamp with a purple bulb glowed on the table, revealing her costume: a black cat mask, ears, and tail on top of an emerald green prom dress.

“R. Burton Childress,” Burton said proudly, pushing his ticket onto the table.

The girl checked off his name and handed him a black plastic mask, the kind with slanting impish eyes and an elongated nose. “Halloween masquerade. The Homecoming Committee wants everyone wearing a mask. It was supposed to be a surprise they were going to announce at the end of the football game, but then…”

Burton nodded. “It’s more festive that way,” he said. He put on the mask. In the low-key lighting from the table, his face was cast in sinister shadows, and Heather shivered.

Heather stepped up to the dimly-lit table. She recognized the cat girl as Ellie Renford, a girl she had tutored in the library.

“Name?” Ellie asked. But when she looked up to see the scar, her eyes softened with recognition.

“Here’s a mask for you,” she said, handing Heather a red theatrical mask. Half of its face was drawn up in a smile; the other, contorted in a frown. “You can keep it on all night,” Ellie offered as if it were a helpful suggestion.

Heather nodded. With the mask on, it was more difficult to see in the dark, and she reluctantly took Burton’s arm. She felt a thrill rush through him at her touch.

“Remember our deal,” she told him.

“I’m thinking about it,” he said.

Inside, friends were slowly finding each other, pulling off masks to confirm identities. The music was loud and fast; Heather was glad that it made conversation difficult.

“Keep your mask on,” Burton said when a slow song finally came on. He pulled Heather onto the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”

Burton’s hands were heavy on Heather, as if he were afraid she might escape if he didn’t hold onto her tightly enough. He tried to look into her eyes, but those orbs peering out from the anonymity of his mask were too creepy even for Halloween, and Heather looked away.

Across the room, Heather saw a boy in a gold mask. Even with his face hidden she knew his identity by the way he stood. He grasped at his stomach with one hand and his other arm hung limply by his side. He was surrounded by girls, each one trying for a dance with him. Some of the girls had their masks off, trying to use their social status to attract Adam. Others wore their masks, hoping intrigue would get the better of him, but none of the girls were having any luck. Adam refused them all.

As Burton led Heather around the dance floor, he seemed preoccupied. His victory of winning Heather as a date was overshadowed by his curiosity. He led Heather from one couple to the next, alerting his ears.

“I heard Heather’s dad’s going to prison,” one of the dancing students said, this one wearing an orange pumpkin mask.

Heather’s body tensed as she prepared to defend her father, but Burton squeezed her more tightly, preventing her from doing so.

“No way,” said the student’s dance partner, a girl in a powder blue fairy mask. “If anyone’s going to prison, it’s gonna be Principal Elders. Word is, he never even had a meeting the morning Heather was attacked. Word is, he was there in his office watching the whole thing!”

“I wouldn’t wanna be him!”

Burton moved deeper into the crowd.

“… and heard that the story about Melanie and Jared actually pans out.”

“If that’s true Jared’s definitely getting expelled!”

“… Primm won’t dare show her face around here until this boils over.”

“… rumor she’s transferring to Hawthorne.”

“Good riddance!”

Burton moved further and further to the middle of the dance floor.

Heather rested her head on Burton’s shoulder, but only to engage in conversation. “Burton,” she whispered into his ear. “Don’t you forget our deal.”

He leaned closer to her, and she shuddered as he deeply inhaled the scent of her shampoo before whispering into her ear. “I told you I’d think about it—as long as you behave.”

Heather scowled. “I can’t trust you. I’ll never be able to.”

Burton shrugged it off as if it were a moot point and led Heather further into the crowd.

“We’ve gotta get down to, like, the bottom of this,” a dancer was saying. “Someone should write an article to clear our names.”

“Well it can’t be you, obviously.”

Heather flinched, recognizing at once the voices of the masked dancers as those of Melanie Williams and Jared Winters. Instinct made her pull away, but Burton held her steady, pulling her close to him.

“Well, like, who can we get to write it?” Melanie asked.

“It has to be someone neutral.”

“Someone who doesn’t normally hang out with us. Because, like, that would look suspicious.”

“Good call, but who?”

“Allow me,” Burton interrupted.

“Excuse me, like, who are you?” Melanie asked, squinting to make out Burton’s masked face through the obstruction of her own mask. “Is that you, Burton?”

“At your service,” he said, lifting his mask and bowing.

“I think I’ll keep mine on tonight,” Melanie said. “I’ve been getting evil looks since the game last evening. Leave it to a Primm to ruin something that was, like, already ruined.”

“That traitor,” Jared muttered. “My dad’s so pissed at me right now. He says it’s gonna cost so much in legal fees trying to defend me from Primm’s father’s accusation. On top of the money Heather lost me on football scholarships, Dad says I’m nothing but a money pit.”

Burton held Heather tight, like a prisoner.

“Well anyways, Burton,” Melanie asked, “do you think you could, like, sneak around and dig up some stuff for an article? You know—something to make me and Jared look, like, good?”

Burton smiled. “Of course I can.”

“Thanks, Burton. You know, like, you should have joined the newspaper a long time ago. I guess I just never noticed you around.” She laughed. “But now look at you! You’re doing such an awesome job covering poor Adam Hollowcast. And, like, who’s your date?” Melanie reached out her hand to brush Heather’s long, silky hair.

Heather tensed again, but Burton laughed it off. “It’s Halloween,” he said. “It’ll just have to be a mystery for now.” He turned to Heather and brushed the face of her mask, then ran his fingers through her hair. Then he turned back to Melanie, bowed over-dramatically, and led Heather away.

“Burton!” Heather scolded once they were out of earshot. “How could you take me over there with them?”

“Hush, hush,” he said, his voice overly-confident and oppressive. He put his arms around her waist and leaned in close. “I already told you: unlike Adam, I can and will protect you.”

Heather narrowed her eyes.

“I heard Melanie and Jared are going to be expelled,” another student was saying. “If they can prove the two of them cut Heather, I can’t wait!”

Heather could not hear any more of the conversation because loud dance music had replaced the soft, slow songs; and couples broke apart on the dance floor. Heather shied away from Burton, but he held her hand as if his own arm were a shackle. But Heather pulled nonetheless. The room spun dizzily, and she could take only shallow breaths. Her leg tingled with pain. The familiar voices of her attackers reached right into the pit of her stomach.

Burton pulled Heather towards the drink table. He felt her pulse and then steadied her against the wall while he got drinks. Her heart still pounded, and her mask only magnified the feeling that she could not get enough air. Jared and Melanie were so mad; she wondered what they would have done if they had recognized the girl behind the red mask. Heather pressed herself against the cool wall and tried to steady her breathing. She glanced to her side to see that Adam had done the same. He had partially removed his mask—he wore it now like a baseball cap—and was standing against the wall a few paces from Heather. He seemed not to notice her, though. Like Heather, his current purpose seemed to be to calm himself down.

Burton, who hadn’t been wearing his mask since his conversation with Melanie, returned with the drinks. He saw Adam right away, and he put on a show of it.

“Here, darling,” he told Heather, handing her a drink.

Heather’s eyes found Adam’s now, and they locked with his as she held out a shaky hand and took the cup of punch from Burton.

“To us,” Burton offered, raising his cup in a toast. “To our future together.” Heather obliged, raising her own. She could not help noticing that Burton now held Adam’s attention. “Well, drink, my love,” Burton said a little too loudly. “You’ve got to remove your mask if you want to drink anything.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Heather said, trying to keep her voice low.

“You’ll dehydrate in here! Come on, drink. I got it just for you. You want to be amenable, don’t you?”

Heather looked at Adam’s miserable expression and reminded herself why she was doing all this. She tried to tell herself that none of this mattered, that she would be enrolled in Hawthorne Academy in three days, but that possibility didn’t seem real to her. It was like a dream, a delusion. Heather couldn’t actually picture herself there. It was like she was trapped here at Orchard Valley without chance of escape.

“Drink, my love,” Burton insisted.

Heather whispered a silent wish, hoping that Burton hadn’t augmented her drink with any of his herbs. Then, reluctantly, Heather lifted her mask just enough to bring the cup to her lips. But it was enough: Adam had seen her identity, and the revelation was like a knife being dragged across his flesh. He doubled over, grasping his stomach.

Burton couldn’t help himself. “There, there,” he said, walking over to Adam. “Changing schools can be a major source of stress.” He put his hand on Adam’s back. “But don’t worry: I’ve got a relaxing herbal tea you can try. I’ll brew you some later tonight. As for getting stressed about starting at a new school, you shouldn’t be: my new girlfriend and I will be right there with you. So anything you need at all…” Burton patted Adam on the shoulder and turned back to Heather. “Come on, Heather, dear,” he said just a little too loudly—just loud enough for Adam to hear.

Burton took Heather’s arm and led her away; but even masked, Heather locked eyes with Adam and stared backwards at him as she moved away, a kind of sad apology sparkling in her eyes. If only she could communicate to Adam why she was doing this.

Burton pulled her a little too hard, and she resisted, breaking free from Burton’s grasp and starting back towards Adam. She had to explain. She had to help Adam. But she never made it that far. The crowd swallowed her up and pushed her towards the middle of the room. Something was happening: Wilson Johnson, the student council president, was there with a microphone.

The crowd had separated Heather from Burton—and though that in itself was a kind of relief, it also tortured her. Here, she was alone and exposed. What would Melanie and Jared do if they recognized her? What if all the energy in the room turned sour and a riot broke out—and what if it was directed at her? As creepy as he was, at least Burton offered a small bit of protection.

Heather adjusted her mask, ensuring it covered her face entirely. The excited crowd had pushed her to the front of a large vacant circle in the center of the room. It was filled only by Wilson, and it was surrounded completely by a sea of students, a colorful blur of costumes and gowns, of faces and masks.

“Is everybody having fun?” Wilson asked.

The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles.

“Good, because now it’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for.” His eyes sparkled as he took a slip of paper from his pocket. “It’s time to crown our Homecoming King and Queen!”

Two more members of the student council emerged amidst more cheers, each holding a crown. Heather frowned. Homecoming was never as serious or formal as prom, and so even the crowns carried the air of the evening: a Halloweenish, carnivalish, gaudy, macabre quality that brought on another wave of dizziness. The king’s crown almost resembled what a jester might wear; the queen’s crown was so bedazzled, it was more reminiscent of something a six-year-old might wear for her princess-themed birthday party.

The crowd quieted as Wilson unfolded the paper. “First, Orchard Valley, I’d like to introduce your Homecoming King: Mr. Jared Winters!”

An instinctive round of cheers was swallowed quickly by an eerie silence. With Jared so recently thrust again into public notoriety, no one was sure how to react. Jared did not come forward, and Heather searched the crowd. She hoped he’d emerge. At least with Jared in the middle of the dance, he wouldn’t be able to hurt her. But instead, Mr. Bates, the assistant principal, stepped forward.

“Where’s Principal Elders?” someone whispered.

“I don’t know. He never misses a dance!”

Another student whispered, “I heard he’s on leave without pay because of the recent allegations.”

Mr. Bates took the microphone and cleared his throat. “Let’s have a round of applause for Jared Winters,” he said. His voice sounded nervous, though, and it was obvious he just wanted things to run smoothly.

A hesitant round of applause followed, and Mr. Bates handed the microphone back to Wilson.

Wilson cleared his throat. “Jared, come forward to be crowned!”

There was more applause as Jared pushed his way through the crowd. Some were hesitant to cheer. Others, especially Jared’s former teammates, cheered loudly. Heather breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe from her attacker for now. Jared took off his mask and bent his head so that one of the girls from the student council could place the crown on his head. Heather raised an eyebrow behind her mask: Jared wasn’t smiling at all.

“And now, Jared, time to meet your queen!” Wilson reached into his pocket and retrieved another slip of paper. He held it out for Mr. Bates to see. Mr. Bates read the name and nodded affirmation to Wilson.

Wilson smiled in front of the crowd. “This year’s queen is our own Melanie Williams!”

She was received in the same manner as Jared, and she came forward to be crowned. But she kept her mask on. Heather tried to step back, but the crowd kept her pressed right up at the front. She kept her eyes on Mr. Bates, confident that he could at least serve as a witness if anything else happened to her.

Wilson nodded at the DJ. “Let’s allow our king and queen to have their dance.”

The music started, and Jared held out his hands for Melanie. All eyes were on them, and Melanie seemed to be freezing up. From the back of the crowd, a handful of students booed, making her look even more nervous. Mr. Bates disappeared into the crowd to disband the malcontents, and Heather tensed. She felt too nervous to rejoice in Melanie’s discomfort.

When the song ended, Jared’s friends led the crowd in a stentorian roar, affirming Jared’s right to be king and overpowering any dissent. The music had stopped, and the cheering as well, and all eyes moved to Wilson.

“Now this year we have a unique situation,” Wilson said. “Jared won fair and square, of course. But there was a write-in candidate who actually received more votes than Jared.”

The crowd murmured with speculation.

“It was unprecedented in the first place, but it was made even more unique by the fact that the person who won the write-in votes wasn’t even a senior! He just couldn’t be crowned king because he’s only a junior.”

With that clue, everyone began whispering the name: Adam Hollowcast.

Wilson continued. “Since it’s such a unique situation, we thought we’d break tradition this year and do something we normally don’t do. We’ll have an underclassman court. Adam Hollowcast, please come forward to be crowned Homecoming Prince!”

The room exploded in accolades, and Adam was practically thrust forward from his place at the back of the crowd. He pulled his golden mask down over his face as another member of the student council placed a crown on his head. This one was more dignified than Jared’s, but it was bronze instead of gold.

“Now since we didn’t hold an actual election for underclassmen… Adam, you get to choose your own Homecoming Princess and enjoy your royal dance with her.”

Adam shook his head, but the gesture was so weak that no one noticed except for Heather. The room was so full of encouraging cheers—cheers more genuine than they had been for Jared and Melanie—that Adam seemed compelled to play along to keep his peers happy. Heather bit her lip. She knew how the accolades hurt him. All around him, girls were pushing their way to the front of the crowd. They were pursing lips and tossing hair, straightening dresses and batting eyelashes.

Wilson thrust a small bronze tiara into Adam’s hand. “Crown your princess.”

Adam spun around and around. At first he started towards Shelby Acres, one of the most popular volleyball players. She tossed her golden hair and held out her hand to him. But Adam drew back a trembling hand at the last minute. Heather could tell he had made a decision just then, and he was looking for someone else now. Heather couldn’t help but smile.

He spun around until he found her. He held his hand out to her, and she took it without hesitation.

“Who is it?” everyone wanted to know. But instead of answering, Adam nodded to the DJ, who started the music.

Adam placed the tiara into her shiny dark hair, and they started to dance. The world disappeared from view, blending into a colorful confetti that surrounded Heather and her prince in their own sphere of existence. They gazed into each other’s eyes even through the masks, and it was just the way Heather had envisioned it for so many months. They melted into each other, and all the pain of the last few months disappeared. It was pure magic.

Adam leaned closer. “I should have asked you months ago. Will you go to the Homecoming Dance with me?”

Heather smiled behind her mask. “Yes!”

When the song ended, everyone wanted to know who Adam’s mysterious girl was. The music had stopped, but the two stayed there as if it were still playing in their hearts. Without a word, Adam removed his mask and threw it to the ground.

“You all want to know who she is,” he began, his voice rising above the silence of the awed crowd. “Well okay. She is one I am privileged to have known. One I am not worthy of—at least, not recently. She’s one who has more character alone than the rest of us have, combined.” He gave a nod to Mr. Bates to indicate that he, too, was included in the sorry assessment. “She is one whose honesty and integrity will take her far in life despite the terrible time we’ve given her here. She’s one I’ve been lucky to know and even more lucky to dance with. She’s the beautiful Heather Primm.”

The crowd gasped and, unseen by any except for Heather, made room for a tiny and sleepy figure who had just made her way in from the parking lot. Adam removed Heather’s mask and tossed it on the ground next to his. He took her cheek in his hand and traced the line of her scar with his finger. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

While they kissed, everyone wanted to say something but no one knew what to say. It was the stuff of high school legends happening right there before everyone’s eyes. But this legend wasn’t finished yet.

Adam took Heather’s hand and stood facing the crowd. “I’ve never been the best at football, but I sure work hard. On the field, I work harder than any other member of the team. I always have.”

A few people started to applaud, but they stopped. Something else was coming.

“And so when my hard work was getting me nowhere, I knew something was wrong.” Adam took a deep breath. “I knew some of my teammates were using steroids. I wasn’t the only one who knew, either. I suspect most people involved with the team knew about Jared and the others. But who would possibly rat out their own team? And so I kept the secret festering inside me.

“But then I took a look at my beautiful girlfriend.” He motioned to Heather. “That’s right—before things went crazy, Heather was my girlfriend. It was only my cowardice that ended the relationship.” Adam took off his suit jacket and handed it to Heather. As he continued speaking, he slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, one slow button at a time. “I saw her every day as she struggled to live only with the truth. I saw her post it daily on her blog, gaining a following. Sometimes her posts would be controversial—even before the big one—and sometimes they would be praised. But always they would be the truth. And so one day I decided to be truthful, and I told her about the steroids.”

From the back of the crowd, someone screamed, “No, Adam!” Heather recognized it instantly as the frantic voice of Burton.

But Adam continued. “You see, it was me. I was her source. And instead of standing next to her at the assembly and in the hallways and sharing the ridicule you dished out, I hid behind your praise, and I suffered secretly on my own.”

By the time he finished speaking, he had unbuttoned his shirt. His audience was on the verge of bursting into a reaction, but for now they stayed silent, sensing yet more to come.

“He is too kind,” Burton screamed from the crowd. “Surely he’s doing this to cover up for Heather’s real source!”

Adam stifled a laugh. “You’re wrong, my former friend,” he told Burton, taking off his shirt. “Because you see, I am the source.”

Now came the explosive reaction from the crowd as they gazed upon Adam’s naked torso. Heather gasped as well, for when she saw his bloody secret in the closet she had not seen the worst of it. The cuts on his arms were but child’s play. Scored into his torso in deep gouges much larger than the ones on his arms were long lacerations, each one etched in the semblance of the letter T. Some of them had scabbed over. Some of them had been cut and re-cut in the same spot. Others were fresh. Some even looked infected.

A shriek silenced the crowd, which parted to admit a small child.

“Adam!” Ruby called.

Adam reached his hand to Ruby and took Heather’s hand as well. “Little Rue.”

“You’ve been right all this time. I wasn’t true to myself. I wasn’t true. Your sister was, and I wasn’t. Please forgive me, Rue.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she examined Adam’s mutilated body. But she pushed away her disgust and threw herself at him, wrapping his leg in a hug.

Adam turned back to the crowd. “There. It’s done. Hate me.” He collapsed to his knees. “Please, hate me for once.” With that, all the color drained from his face, and he collapsed onto the ground.

Mr. Bates picked up the microphone. “Everyone, listen up. I’m sorry, but the dance is over. Go home! Call your parents. Everyone—”

Heather and Ruby broke down in tears and fell to their knees next to Adam. Heather covered Adam’s torso with his jacket and protected him from the peering eyes of school gossips and cell phone cameras.

Still, it was a long while before Mr. Bates was able to gather enough help to clear the gym, and Heather had never seen him so relieved as when Adam’s parents arrived with the ambulance, finally ready to give Adam the help he had so desperately needed.