Page 93 of Light Up My Life

The party was exactly like I expected an office party to be. It was at Mr. Wakefield’s house, which was in Mountain Glen, near my high school. It was decorated modestly. There were finger foods and drinks. Christmas music played softly in the background. Kids, including my little brother, kept grabbing sugar cookies from the island and then running away with them. And I was definitely overdressed. Very, very overdressed.

“Are you staying in Colorado for college?” a tall blond woman asked me. I was pretty sure she was the office manager, but I hadn’t met all my mom’s colleagues before tonight, and I was having a hard time keeping everyone straight.

“I don’t know,” I said. “My brother is going to Utah State, trying something completely new. Maybe I will too. Or maybe I’ll miss him so much that I’ll follow him.” I wasn’t feeling that way this week. Maybe I’d broken our relationship with my lie. By dating the enemy.

“That would be fun. I’m not close with my brother. I chased him down the hall with a knife one time when we were little, and I don’t think he’s forgotten that.” She gave a short laugh.

“I haven’t tried that one yet,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to do anything. He just needed to know it was a possibility.”

“You have to keep them on their toes.”

“Exactly.” She lifted her hand in a wave to someone behind me. “Good talking to you, Jenny. Brenda just got here. I’m going to say hi.”

I didn’t feel bad anymore about not knowing her name.

I looked around for my moms. They were hand in hand with a group of women, standing by a large fireplace in the living room. On the back patio was another large fire, this one in a rounded stone pit, and through the window, I could see Marcus standing next to it, talking to a guy around our age.

My phone buzzed, and I realized I’d never responded to Ryan when he’d sent me his tux picture earlier. I had been too busy trying to keep anyone else from seeing it. I quickly freed my phone and tucked myself just inside the open door to the pantry in the kitchen. I smiled at the memory of the last party pantry I had been in.

The text wasn’t from Ryan, though. It was from Fiona.

I have infiltrated the ball. I will report back with any findings. The text was followed by a selfie of her in a gorgeous purple jeweled mask.

“Are you hiding in the pantry?” Marcus asked, appearing beside me.

“What? No.” My cheeks felt prickly, hot from Fiona’s text. She was at the masquerade ball at the country club? How had she gotten in? Had Ryan helped her? I knew how much she wanted to go, but the thought of her reaching out to Ryan behind my back made me feel some kind of way. And yet, she wanted to find out who the Scrooge was. I wanted that too. It was important. So I couldn’t be hurt, or angry, or however else I was feeling.

“You’re miserable,” Marcus said.

“Yes, no. What?” I walked out of the pantry and swiped a cookie off the island. I took a bite, continuing my walk around a group of men to the back door to get some air.

Marcus followed me. “You don’t want to be here.”

It was much cooler outside, but the fire pit made it so that I didn’t need my coat that I’d hung up when we first arrived. “Marcus. Why are you rubbing it in? I’m here. Am I not acting happy enough for you?”

“Do you see that guy right there?” Marcus pointed to the one he’d been talking to earlier.

“Yeah, who is he?”

“Mr. Wakefield’s son. Daniel.”

“Okay,” I said, waiting to hear his point. Was Marcus once again trying to set me up with someone who fit our family better?

“He has a car. We’re going to drop you off at the ball for one hour like the little Cinderella you are. Cover for you.”

My heart lurched. “I … I can’t. I didn’t bring my—”

Before I could even finish my sentence, Marcus opened his sports coat, and sticking out of the inside pocket was my mask.

My eyes shot to his.

“I saw it the other day in your room. If this guy is who you want, then I’m going to help you get him.”

I was going to cry. My eyes filled with tears. Marcus wasn’t mad at me. He was helping me. We were going to be fine.

“Don’t cry,” he said.