“What?”
“Just for the weekend. It’s almost Halloween. The team doesn’t play until Tuesday. You’re off after Friday’s game. We’ll take the boat, hide out at the dockhouse. You tell your aunt you’re crashing at Shani’s. No one will even know.”
My heartbeat kicked.
“Leo…”
“No cameras. No masks. No prep school bullshit. Just us. You and me and a long weekend pretending we’re normal.”
I bit my lip. “You sure?”
“Jade.” His voice dropped low, sincere. “You’re the only real thing in my life. Yeah. I’m sure.”
I didn’t say yes right away.
I let the idea float in the air between us.
But in my chest, something softened—like maybe, just maybe, I’d found a place I could exhale.
That night, I texted Shani:Cover for me?
She replied with a devil emoji and:Do you even have to ask?
By the time Friday rolled around, I’d packed a small duffel, tied my long locks into a braid, and slipped on the softest hoodie I owned—Leo’s, obviously.
When he picked me up at the edge of campus,he looked like a dream in a black beanie and Henley, smile easy, hair slightly messy.
The crisp air bit our cheeks.
His fingers laced with mine.
“You ready to disappear with me?” he asked as we walked toward the ferry.
I nodded, heart full.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Somewhere between the fake cobwebs and the pulsing bass line, I forgot who I was supposed to be.
That was the point, right?
Lose yourself for a night. Hide in plain sight. Slip on a mask and pretend none of it matters.
The party was somewhere off in the woods, in a crumbling old carriage house that some Harvard legacy’s cousin rented for the weekend. Tristan got the invite through someone’s brother. Shani convinced me to go despite my nerves and general self-doubt.
“We need to exorcise the prep school demons,” she said, sliding a sequined devil horn headband into my weekend bag. “Go have fun and don’t worry about the haters.”
I wore a black lace mask and a flowy black dress that dipped low in the back. My hair was curled wild. Eyes smoky. No heels—just boots. Because even on a night of fantasy, I needed solid ground.
The music was loud and vintage, like something out of The Lost Boys. Strobe lights flashed through fake fog. People danced with abandon, drinks in hand, costumes ranging from iconic to slutty to somewhere in between.
And then I saw him.
Leo. He had slipped away to a bathroom to surprise me with his costume choice.
He wore a black masquerade mask, sharp-cut and shadowed, like something out of a gothic dream. His eyes found mine across the room, and my pulse stuttered. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know it was him. My body recognized him instantly.
He made his way over, slow and sure.
