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Chapter 30

The steps from upstairs were getting louder, in the hall now. I watched Ryan’s form disappear around the corner, and then I locked the door and turned to face Marcus.

“Dude, Jaz, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice disappointed, tired.

“Are you going to tell them?” I asked quickly, walking away from the back door and to the island where Marcus was standing, frozen in place it seemed, from when he first saw us.

He let out a long sigh. “Why aren’t you?”

“Because they told us we couldn’t even talk to the Morenos. And I didn’t want to ruin Christmas for everyone,” I said, begging him with my eyes not to say anything as the footsteps were on the stairs now.

“All this for him?” Marcus asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“It’s late,” Momma said, coming into the kitchen. “And a school night. What are you two doing up?”

Marcus looked at the back door and then at me. He could tell Momma right now and … then what? I wasn’t sure what would happen. Would she tell me I couldn’t talk to Ryan anymore? That I couldn’t go to a dance with him? I really wanted to go. I wanted to put on that dress and dance with him. Maybe after that, I’d never be able to talk to him again. Our families would forbid it. Could I openly defy my family over Ryan if it came to that?

“I was hungry,” Marcus said, that edge still in his voice. Unlike the last lie he’d told for me, this one he wasn’t doing willingly.

“Me too,” I said.

“Did you not eat enough at dinner?” Momma asked.

“Must not have,” I said.

“Well, get a bowl of cereal or something and then head to bed,” she said, rubbing a hand along my back. The gentle, trusting touch made me want to cry all over again.

Marcus turned around and walked toward his room.

“I thought you were hungry,” Momma called after him.

“I lost my appetite,” he said.

I locked myself in my room. Marcus knew about me and Ryan. I didn’t know what to think.

I grabbed the fancy dress in its garment bag and started to shove it in the back of my closet. It wasn’t going easily, though. It was caught on something. I pushed my way inside the closet to see what was holding it up. The screen. From my window. All my lies were literally piling up, it seemed.

I carried the dress carefully back to my bed, laid it there, then rearranged the screen into a better position so it was flat along the back of my closet. Then I went to collect the dress. My hand paused by the zipper of the garment bag. I gave a single glance over my shoulder toward my bedroom door. It was still locked, the hallway beyond it quiet. I slowly unzipped the bag.

The dress was beautiful. Sleeveless, with beading along the corseted bodice. It had a short, full tulle skirt. I wondered if it would fit me. Maybe it would be a sign if it didn’t, a sign that I needed to give this up. Give up Ryan for the sake of my family. Marcus’s disappointed eyes were still seared into my brain.

I stepped out of my flannel pajama pants and into the dress, pulling it up beneath my oversized T-shirt. It took a lot of twisting and stretching to zip it up all the way, but it was now on my body. I threw off my T-shirt and walked over to my full-length mirror. I sucked in a breath of air. The dress fit perfectly, like it was made for me. I ran my hand softly over the bodice, smoothed out the skirt.

I swallowed.

The mask. I found it on my desk where Ryan had left it and tied it on. I gathered my hair low on my neck. Ryan was right. Nobody would recognize me.

My heart rate seemed to double in speed as I thought about actually doing this. About being with Ryan in public, holding hands. Dancing. I spun, and the skirt of the dress flared out before I nearly tripped on my boots in the middle of my room. I caught myself on the edge of my bed, then inspected the dress to make sure I hadn’t ripped anything.

I couldn’t give Ryan up. Not without even trying to make it work.

I pulled my pajamas back on and rehung the dress, zipping it back into its garment bag. Then I adjusted the clothes in my closet to make room for it in the very back and positioned a few cardigans and a long dress around it so it wasn’t visible at a glance.

I went to my window and peeked out the blinds, like I’d gotten into the habit of doing. Ryan’s light was on, and in his window was a sign that in big black letters read: DID IT FIT?

He obviously knew I was going to try on the dress tonight. I pulled out my phone and texted: Perfectly. Now take down that sign before someone sees it.