Unmasked (3 page)

Noelle soon discovered that hand eye coordination was not her gift considering her hands didn’t come anywhere close to catching the ball. Instead, the ball hit her knees, and she spent nearly thirty seconds chasing after it while a chorus of laughter scattered throughout the circle.

Her slippery hands finally grasped the ball, and she cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Noelle and – ” she gasped. She hadn’t even considered what she would say to the group due to the two-minute mad chase scene. “And–I–I uh am holding this ball.”

She quickly passed it to a boy with a buzz cut and very cruel grey eyes before the group could comprehend the unoriginality of her comment. 

The boy with the buzz cut picked up the ball and molded it in his hands a couple times like rolling pizza dough.

“Name’s Blade,” he paused and lifted a razor-sharpened jawline at the group. 

“And this game is really stupid.”

Blade’s hand fumbled in the grass for something, suddenly. Noelle thought he might have dropped the ball like her, but instead a loud –

POP!

Sent everyone into a frozen halt.

A few girls let out yelps of terror at the sudden burst, while some boys applauded Blade doing the exact thing they intended to do for their turn (or at least, had wanted to).

Blade yanked out the sharp splinter of wood used to deflate ball while a counselor quickly strode into the circle to calm down the group. Obviously, he had not intended for the game to end so quickly.

Despite counselors’ efforts, including a skyscraper-like girl who tried to pump air back into the ball improvising the hole with tape, the campers dispersed into cliques, and knowing almost no one, Noelle kept a close distance with Elm as she meandered over to Blade and Cynthy.

“I’m bored,” Elm began giving the most pathetic expression Noelle had witnessed in her existence.

              The others nodded their agreement.

“We could play
Fame or Flop
,” Cynthy suggested.

Elm clapped her hands with enthusiasm while Blade shrugged with a too-cool-to-care expression permanently plastered on his face.

“How do you play that?” Noelle asked feeling stupider by the minute with the shocked responses that she got to her question. Even Blade’s stoic face contorted to one with a hint of disbelief.

Elm patted Noelle affectionately on the top of her head.

“She’s like a little saint that I carry around. Super innocent. I let her tag along cause she helps me from getting completely corrupted by you people,” she added with somewhat of a flirtatious wink at Blade.

Noelle felt somewhat offended that Elm treated her like some sort of weird pet. What did she mean ‘
innocent
’ and not ‘
corrupted
’?

“Come off it,” Cynthy said with an eye roll. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I’ve seen the most holy angel play this game, even seem them dance to the “Young Death” every once and a while.”

Blade let out a cough that had a strong hint of doubt in it. Noelle felt as if the world was spinning with all this new vocabulary. What the heck was the “Young Death”? Did people die dancing it?

“What’s the – ” Noelle began, but Cynthy cut her off.

“Here’s how
Fame or Flop
works. We take a brief look at a random camper, and we categorize them in what genre we think they would fit best in and what type of character; do you know all the genres and characters?”

Noelle tipped a horizontal hand up and down, “Sort of.”

“Well the different genres are: Adventure, Sci-Fi, Romance, Fantasy, and Unknown – the Unknown spits out a different genre each year sometimes humor, sometimes dramatic, you never know…

“As for characters, the Main Character stars for most of the story. There are the Supporting Characters, who get a fair share of lines. The Villains, who usually are the really strange-looking people, and the Unwanteds; I think that I heard Elm explain that to you, right?”

Noelle nodded gravely.

“All right,” Cynthy clapped her hands together and rubbed them furiously before pointing at Jim. “That’s the one who didn’t talk. I think, at best, he’ll get Supporting for Sci-Fi.”

“I wouldn’t even give him that,” Blade argued letting out a low whistle before pointing to a girl with very dark skin, and gorgeous chestnut eyes. “Supporting for Romance, they usually put the hot girls in that category.”

“So you want to be in that one then?” Elm said adding another awkward wink.

Blade rounded on her in disgust, “No, the boys in that genre are fruitcakes.”

Of course, Blade hadn’t said “fruitcakes,” but the word he used Noelle didn’t quite recognize, but by the tone of his voice, she could tell that it wasn’t a pleasant term.

Noelle realized that the more she heard Blade and Cynthy talk, the more she wanted to walk away, but something held her captivated there.

Elm crossed her arms, “Well, I think the boys in that genre are sweet,” she argued before pointing at Miss Willows. “That lady, who checked us in, is the biggest flop I’ve ever seen. She probably didn’t even make the Unwanted category.”

The others took a disdainful glance at her before nodding in agreement. Noelle felt a strong guilt stirring within for picking on the poor lady for no reason. What had Miss Willows done to her? Were the other campers playing the same game and labeling her as a “nobody”?

Cynthy motioned to Noelle insinuating that it was her turn.

“Oh that’s okay,” Noelle said hastily. “I really think I’ll just watch this round.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cynthy snapped. “Just pick someone and guess; there’s really no harm in doing it.”

Tentatively, Noelle motioned to a pudgy girl with her hair tightly strung into pigtails.

“Um, Main Character for Adventure.”

Noelle heard a strange cackling sound, but it took her several moments to realize that Elm to had collapsed to the ground and began laughing hysterically until tears streamed down her cheeks.

After about a minute of this, she eventually began a round of hiccups as she stood up slowly.

“Obvi –
hic
– ously you haven’t –
hic
– played this game –
hic
– ever.”

“Yes,” Noelle answered feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “What was so wrong with putting her in that category?”

Cynthy drew in a deep breath, as Noelle imagined a kindergarten teacher preparing to lecture a child about a simple lesson that the dunce should have understood hours before.

“To put it nicely – she’s not skinny, pretty, or really that appealing to any human eye. Yeah some campus counselor will pound the whole ‘beauty-is-on-the-inside’ lecture, but we all know that Main Characters need to be drop dead gorgeous, geniuses, or super rich. A combination of all three is bound to land you in that spot.”

Noelle cast a downward glance at her feet suddenly wrapping her arms around her waistline. The rolls of fat there seemed more defined than ever before.

There is no way I’m gonna land a Main Character spot,
she thought hopelessly.

She wasn’t a genius, considering the other campers knew loads more about campus than she did, and she wasn’t beautiful enough to light a candle against ‘drop-dead-gorgeous’.

Suddenly the pounding of drums halted her thoughts as a beat to a song began to play from a mysterious stereo nearby.

Several campers let out enthusiastic cheers as the clusters of cliques morphed together and began dancing to the perplexing tune. Noelle stayed on the edge of the circle watching in bewilderment wondering why all the campers knew about this song and how she didn’t.

The chorus blasted throughout the entire campus:

“Don’t stop me; I wanna have some fun,”

Some girl dancers began to jump around while the guys encircled them from behind.

“Let’s dance like we’re gonna die young!”

The boys suddenly shuffled uncomfortably close, but the girls didn’t seem to mind. Noelle, on the other hand, stood paralyzed, not really sure how to react.

“Dance, dance baby…get in the groove

Like tonight’s our last night, let’s see you move”

As the dancers began swerving in odd and unnatural directions, Noelle felt another surge of remorse for standing nearby this. A whole new level of discomfort gripped her as she watched the campers move in, tightening the circle.

“Are you going in there, Saint, or not?” Blade caught her by surprise and made her jump out of her skin.

Noelle shook her head, perhaps a bit too quickly.

His cold gray eyes penetrated hers, “What’s wrong? Are we not good enough for you, or something?”

“No,” she didn’t exactly know how to put into words that she wanted to run out of the place as soon as possible. “I just don’t like to dance,” she lied.

“Come on, Saint, only the Unwanteds refuse to dance. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

She was quite certain that they had very different definitions of
fun
. 

Noelle cast a sideways glance at a few misfits that seemed like they would hit the extras squad before she could snap her fingers.

The Author needs me for this adventure. I can’t be a ‘nobody’ in order to do that, so I need to prove my worth to these people.

She inhaled deeply somehow knowing that her instincts howled at her to back away, and then grasped Blade’s hand as he led her to the center of the dance floor.

Noelle felt her heart somersault backwards in her chest when she neared the center of the circle of atrocity. She averted her eyes from some of the dancers as they swayed in awkward directions.

Just a few dances,
she reminded herself softly as fear gripped her by the throat making it difficult to swallow.

After a few dances, she would tell Blade that she was tired and didn’t want any more adventure that night. A thousand excuses swarmed in her head about how to escape the circle that grew ever tightly knit around her.

Suddenly a pair of sweaty palms gripped her tightly while she attempted to replicate the moves of the girl in front of her. She cast a dissolving glare at Blade who kept his fingers wrenched into her skin like nails to wood.

He pulled her close and rested his head on her shoulder as he whispered, “Come on, Saint, why do you think that you’re so high and mighty? Do we need to go through a thousand obstacles to please you, or can you just accept love for what it is?”

Love? This is love?

Her body froze as she stood stiff as a board.

The Author once told her that he loved her, and she felt complete and whole. Was there another kind of love that she was missing? Did the Author forget to tell her about this?

Well, he seems to have forgotten to tell me a lot,
Noelle thought bitterly remembering that he never once mentioned
Fame or Flop
, or how nasty certain campers could be. Or just anything about campus in general.

Everyone knew everything about the campus, except for her.

She froze again feeling an icy sensation crawl up her skin as she watched the other dancers frivolously moving in odd directions. She could feel her heart pound anxiously in her chest whenever Blade gripped her tightly. He pulled her closer and closer until she could feel his hot breath pouring down her neck.

This isn’t right
–
This can’t be right
–
Noelle, run away now!

But something kept her paralyzed in that spot.

Suddenly, without thinking, she felt her hands shove Blade’s as far away from her as possible. She secretly loved and hated herself for this.

Love: she yearned for this the moment she landed on the dance floor, to escape Blade’s talon clutches.

Hate: with every motion of her hand, she proved more and more that she deserved to be an Unwanted.

“Saint,” he crooned slowly, “is it just because we’re moving too fast? We can take it slowly, now.”

Noelle didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was the fact they were “moving” at all. The very sight of Blade disgusted her now. The way he held her like some prized trophy, she wanted to disappear forever.

Without a reply, she threw her hands out in front of her to barricade through the crowd, passing through each crevice and corner like liquid, and then making a mad dash toward the guest cabin.

#

The tears inevitably came when she was certain that she was truly alone. The essence of musty wood encompassed her breath as her steps creaked along the old floorboards of the guest cabin. She carefully tiptoed her way across the room afraid that at any moment, she might fall through the floor.

She positioned her palms up to the corners of her eyes to stem the flow of the tears, but they hardly helped.

She felt used, degraded – loved…?

Oh, please tell me this isn’t love,
she begged in a silent prayer.
Love can’t hurt this much.

But the truth suddenly shattered before her as she realized that she wanted to return to Blade. His touch dissolved any thoughts of loneliness that she felt. He had made her feel wanted, special, desired, and loved.

And she hated him for it.

Hated him and…loved him?

She meandered over to a rustic mirror in the corner of the room and gazed at her reflection for the second time that day. Her hands did the best to deflate the puffiness in her cheeks, but the effort proved useless.

Every mistake glared back at her as the rolls of fat could clearly be seen when she pulled her loose shirt behind her back to make it tighter. Suddenly images of the beautiful girl Blade pointed out in
Fame or Flop
burned into her head as she began comparing every feature.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a piece of paper on the aged-oak cabinet next to the full-length mirror. The paper had her name etched into red writing, and she peeled it open carefully.

Dearest Noelle,

Meet me at the Allay Café, located to the left of campus gates at 8:45 a.m. Remember child; I will always be with you.  Call on me and I will always come. Have a blessed night, and I will see you in the morning.

There was no signature, but Noelle didn’t need one. She padded over to a bunk nearby the mirror thoroughly convinced that she knew what love was – and it certainly wasn’t what Blade described it as.

She collapsed on to the bottom bunk, as it let out a soft groan.

She clutched the letter to her chest partially relieved, but mostly infuriated. If the Author was there, why didn’t he stop her from dancing with Blade? Why didn’t he intervene while the others played
Fame or Flop
degrading his creation?

“When I go see the Author tomorrow, I’m going to make sure he puts Blade in the Unwanteds,” she muttered bitterly.

“So
you’re
the Saint,” piped up a voice from nearby.

Noelle bolted up in bed as her eyes probed the room for the source of the voice. They landed on a very young looking girl in a flowery purple tank and yoga pants.

“You heard about me?” Noelle asked curiously, somewhat panicked that the girl likely did not hear anything good about her reputation.

The girl twirled her cherry red, curly hair mechanically, while shoving a pair of reading glasses up her nose automatically with her index finger.

“Overheard a conversation about her,” the girl’s golden eyes squinted. “But I didn’t believe it; I had to see it for myself. So you really believe that the Author exists?”

The girl took Noelle’s bewildered expression as a confirmation.

“Wow. Really? That’s so adorable! It’s like believing in Santa Claus all over again. They were right, you are super innocent!”

Noelle felt her cheeks burn with a slight taste of irritation that some girl far younger than her would cluck so condescendingly like a mother hen to a foolish chick.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Of course, the Author is real!”

The girl let out an obnoxious giggle as if Noelle had told her the funniest joke she had heard yet.

“Well, maybe he’s real for
you
, but not for me.”

Noelle felt a rise of fury stirring in her chest as she began to doubt whether she had actually met the Author at all. Did she have an imaginary friend? Was it a dream of some sort?

Don’t be ridiculous. You remember meeting him, and he left you that note –

Of course! The note! That was her proof that the Author was real!

She snatched the note off of her bunk and brandished it for the other girl to see.

“He wrote me this! His own words are right here! He’s going to meet me in a café tomorrow.”

The girl’s thin lips pursed into a crooked smile.

“Some other camper probably put that there as a prank. Don’t you get it? It’s just make believe,” then she added quickly. “Maybe you would do well in that Fantasy since you believe in fairytales so much.”

“Get off it, Erin,” snapped a voice from the door as a girl with spidery long legs strided into the room. Noelle held in a gasp of shock when the girl only needed to take four steps to reach her.

Noelle craned her neck to spot the face of the girl who looked to be stretched as tall as a skyscraper. She could clearly count every rib on the girl protruding out of her tight, blue blouse.

“Thought you said that everyone was entitled to their own belief,” the skyscraper continued. “So why are you trying to destroy hers?”

Noelle tried to remember where she spotted the skyscraper girl. She looked vaguely familiar.

Erin rolled her eyes, “She can believe what she wants, but it’s stupid to put your faith in something that doesn’t exist.”

Erin then proceeded to roll over in her bed, her backside facing the girls, indicating that she wanted the last word before ending the conversation.

The skyscraper shot her a dissolving glare before plopping down on Noelle’s bed. The skyscraper’s head didn’t quite follow as it crashed with siding of the top bunk. She clamped a pair of strikingly white teeth on her lips clearly restraining herself from uttering a few choice words.

The skyscraper then ducked her head and held out hand to shake Noelle’s when she finally compressed herself enough to fit underneath her bunk.

“Name’s Lacey, and yours?”

Noelle didn’t know whether to find it alarming that the girl didn’t refer to her as “Saint”.

“Noelle.”

“Pretty name,” Lacey began conversationally. “Sorry about Erin. Usually those who still think that Author is real get a bad rap at campus. They think we’re chasing after wind or something...”

“You believe in him too?” Noelle asked with a slight candle of hope igniting in her chest.

Lacey nodded cautiously, “‘Course; there’s more than just the two of us in campus. But people usually aren’t as vocal about it as you. They usually like to hide their belief a little more to make it into the bigger categories –”

But Noelle didn’t hear what Lacey said next because her fingers anxiously fumbled around to find the note. When she found it, she brandished it for Lacey to see.

“Does the Author write to you too?”

Lacey glanced at her feet sheepishly letting her honey-tinted hair shield her thin boned face and brilliant hazel eyes.

“Yes, he writes to everyone. Some people just think it’s a camper who put it there as a joke, others believe.”

“So you’re going to the café tomorrow too?” Noelle asked hopefully. “Maybe you could go with me to make sure – so I don’t have to go alone.”

Noelle couldn’t quite add that she was a little doubtful that she would actually see the Author in the café. What if Erin was right? It could just be some camper trying to pull her leg.

Lacey shook her head sorrowfully, “That time is for you and him, although once a week a group of people often will have talks with him in the café – which I haven’t really been able to go to in a while,” she added sheepishly, revealing that she had already said too much.

“You mean – you don’t go visit him?”

Lacey glanced toward the spider-infested ceiling looking for the right words, but when none came, she nodded softly.

“I mean, he has these get-togethers every morning, and they help, they really do. But I just don’t have enough time. You know, busy schedules and all being a counselor in Sage Peak cabin.”

Suddenly, Noelle remembered where she spotted Lacey. She was one of the counselors who helped out with the camper mixer.

It suddenly dawned on Noelle that Lacey had already gone through orientation and placement. Perhaps she knew how to pass the tests with flying colors and land in a Main Character spot; after all, she was very skinny and pretty. She also seemed pretty smart, which Cynthy insisted were spot-on Main Character qualities.

“What’s orientation like? What do they make us do on the tests? How do you become a Main Character?” Noelle burst out at once, seemingly irritating Erin as she let out a groan of discontent.

Lacey, on the other hand, seemed eager about the change in subject.

“We’re not supposed to reveal too much to you guys, but let you experience on your own. Although, I think it’s safe to say that depending on which category you get placed in determines how you second testing will run. Let’s say you like to climb and be active. If you get into the adventure genre, you may end up doing just that for your second test,” Lacey added with a wink.

Noelle disregarded this considering her incident with catching a ball. Athletics definitely weren’t her strong point.

“And don’t worry,” Lacey added as she ducked her way off of the bed. “Whatever place you get, the Author has a plan, right?”

“Right,” Noelle echoed still uncertain of whether this should relieve her or not.

Erin let out another agitated groan.

Lacey threw her hands together, “All right, I think your roommate wants to go to sleep, so I’ll leave you. Plus you probably need to get some rest; placement is tomorrow, after all.”

Lacey strode over to the door again in four steps.

“Lacey,” Noelle cried suddenly. “What placement did you end up in?”

Lacey paused only a moment before answering, “The Unwanteds.”

Then she shut the door softly before Noelle could ask any more questions.

#

Despite Noelle’s efforts to stay awake and ponder the events that would take place the next day, sleep captivated her as she journeyed to a peaceful land nearby.