Jace and Sandra approached, flanking a dissatisfied Jessie, who planted her hands on her curvy hips. “Why are you being so difficult? It’ll be fun. Think of all the hot guys who’ll be there.”
I thumbed toward the jerk’s retreating figure. “You mean the immature boys like the one who just ran me over?”
Jessie waved her hand. “Po-tay-toe Po-tah-toe. Just—let’s go.”
I sighed. “It’s a frat party, initiation thingy. Remind me again how this concerns me?”
“Because it’s fun! F-U-N. Fun! Tell her, guys,” she prompted.
My brow rose as I turned to Jace, my oldest and dearest friend. I’d met Jessie and Sandra when I arrived on campus last week, but Jace was another story. He’d handed me a tissue when a boy made me cry in kindergarten, and we’d been friends ever since. He knew me inside and out; knew my background and my idiosyncrasies.
I’d forced him to enroll at Columbia with me because I couldn’t do this without him. He was far from the studious type, so I’d pretty much taken his placement test for him, swapping papers back and forth every time the proctor looked away. I’d even written his essay. Now I just had to hope he could keep up with the classes my scores had gotten him into. He was supposed to be my ace in the hole in situations such as these, but right now he was failing miserably.
“Jace, a little help here.” Impatience coated my voice.
He placed a hand on his chest, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m personally hoping to see some men forced to wear leotards, honey. I’m with Jessie on this one.”
I gritted my teeth. I’m going to kill you. I knew he could read my mind, but he was choosing that moment to play dumb. “I hate you guys.”
“Shut your face,” Jace threw back. “You need to get the full freshman experience. You’ll thank me later.” He nearly yanked my arm out of its socket as he pulled, sending my legs flailing behind me as he dragged me toward the booming crowd.
Stopping just before the chaos, he gave my hand a sharp squeeze, acknowledging for the first time how hard this would be for me. I raised the corner of my mouth in a half smile, then filled my lungs with an exorbitant amount of air to fortify the strength I’d need to get through this.
Truth was, one would never truly know what went on in the mind of Evangelina Ricci. On the outside, I had everything put together, perfectly gift wrapped with a tight little red bow. While inside, I was shattered shards of glass. But, if you lined those pieces up just right, when the light hit them, you had a beautiful prism shining a magnificent rainbow for the world to see, love, and appreciate.
That was me. The perfect optical illusion. A master of disguise.
“You ready, baby girl?” Jace asked.
“As ready as I’m gonna be. And don’t think I’m not chewing your ass out later for this.” I looked at him from the corner of my eye.
He squeezed my finger between his. “Don’t worry, I won’t be far. If I think it’s too much for you, we’re out of here.”
I nodded, trusting him enough to know he had my best interests at heart. “How do I look?” I flashed a toothy, well-rehearsed smile, batting my green, feline-shaped eyes.
He rolled his eyes. “You know you’re heart stopping. Now let’s go.” He smacked my ass and, like the crack of gunfire at a race, left me in his dust as he jogged into the festivities.
I stood there for a moment, letting my protective gates come crashing down to a locked position as I secured one of my many faces in place.
The imaginary clapperboard snapped.
Let’s do this.
I caught up with Jessie and Sandra, determined to show them a different Eva. “All right, ladies. You wanted me here, now try and keep up.” I tugged one of Sandra’s ginger curls in a backward jog.
The girls looped their arms with mine.
“Thank God you’re back. I thought we’d lost you for a second there. Where’d you go?” Jessie asked, scooping up the front chunk of her hair and tossing it to the other side.
Uh oh. I was slipping. Time for a Band-Aid. “I’m just tired, and my boyfriend doesn’t like me going to these things. Sorry I was being a party pooper,” I lied.
“Tell us again why we haven’t met this boyfriend?” Sandra inquired.
Because he doesn’t exist. I expelled a dramatic huff. “I told you, he goes away to school. Maybe one weekend he’ll come here, but I usually go there to see him.”
I’d been using that excuse for so long I was sick of it, but it served its purpose. Short weekend trips by myself always helped keep up the fa?ade, strengthening my resolve to be alone and do everything on my own. I was used to solitude, even though I was also used to being crowded—a walking contradiction.