Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

I slipped into my car. “Are you going back to Washington now?” When I couldn’t go to Washington for over two weeks because of my mother’s schedule, Liana came to Richmond so we could skate together. That was what true friends did for each other.

“I’ll probably stop by Starbucks first. After all, it’s Monday and that cutie is probably working.”

I shook my head. Liana had been flirting with a college guy who worked at Starbucks here in Richmond for ages. “It’s the last week of May, Liana. You don’t know if he already left for the summer.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” She winked. “We can’t be the only dorks who take a bunch of classes during summer, right?”

“We sure aren’t.” I smiled. “All right. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Your hands!” Liana said, a finger pointed to my hands around the wheel.

My gaze fell to my palms. They were multicolored with chalk dust. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

“Wipe it on your seat before leaving the car. She won’t notice. You can take your car to wash later.” Liana glanced at her wristwatch. “Now go!”

I sped away, fighting the urge to bite my dirty nails. A little prayer surged in my mind, hoping my mother wouldn’t be home and see my hands like that. Oh, if my hands were like that, so were my knees. And possibly my shorts too.

Of course, my mother was home. We were supposed to leave for Washington in thirty minutes, for a fancy ball celebrating Memorial Day. Peyton McClain stood in front of the house, watching as her employees carried her luggage to the car.

To gain time, I parked the car in the back of the house and ran into the Executive Mansion through the kitchen.

Please, still be outside. Please, still be outside.

I reached the second floor when my mother called me. “Where were you?”

My heart stilled. Slowly, I turned to my mother, keeping my hands behind my back. “At Starbucks with Tracy.” I didn’t like lying to my mother.

“Oh, good. How is she?”

The tension in my shoulders melted away. “She’s fine. Her father is traveling on business so she drove here to meet with me. Beats being alone in her house.” That part wasn’t a lie. Tracy’s father was always traveling.

Her sharp eyes dropped to my shorts. “Are you ready to go?”

“I just need to change and pick up my bags.”

There was a moment of silence as those brown eyes examined me. I forgot how to breathe for a second, expecting my mother to find out all my secrets.

“Hurry.”

My mother walked out and I almost fell on the stairs.

Charlotte

“You look beautiful,” Donnie said, wiping his glasses on a handkerchief, as I descended the front stairs of the hotel, holding the skirt of my long champagne gown up so as not to trip.

By my side, my mother held her light gray gown up on the stairs. Wearing neutral colors, we both looked elegant and formal, the way my mother liked.

I plastered a smile on my face and halted before the opened limo door. “Thanks.”

Elegant in a tuxedo, Donnie helped us both into the limo. The corners of his mouth looked like they would snap from his wide grin.

Why couldn’t I think he was handsome and good boyfriend material? Well, he certainly was cute and he could make a terrific boyfriend for someone in my position. Yet, my heart didn’t race each time he held my hand, and I couldn’t surrender the few times he leaned in to kiss me.

My mother held all attention during the short ride, hosting an enthusiastic discussion about politics with Donnie, who seemed happy about the subject.

I, though, fought against the rising discomfort in my stomach. The night would be long and boring.

Trying to calm my mind, I looked out the window to the streets of Washington. Two minutes and I regretted it—roller skaters rushed on the sidewalk and, a block ahead, we passed a gallery exhibiting charcoal drawings.

My distress grew once we emerged into the fancy ballroom and the swarm of mostly unknown faces closed in around us, greeting us and ushering us in.

My mother glided with grace and talked to everyone. Every single person in the huge room. One thing I couldn’t deny—my mother was an excellent people person. Except with her own daughter.

Donnie fell into the same dance, and I followed, as a proper date, though I kept my mind on the enormous crystal chandeliers, the large windows under heavy velvet curtains that led to outer balconies, and the beautifully arranged flowers on the tables.

If it depended on me, I would ditch Donnie and leave the party. Well, if it depended on me, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place, with a date I didn’t like or want to like, and strange people who I didn’t care about.

However, people wanted to talk to me too. Thanks to my mother, I was active and known in the political circle. Old and new faces approached me, wanting to know how I was, how school was, if Donnie and I would step up and assume our relationship, and to tell me they were thinking of my father today.

Donnie lunged into a heated conversation with a couple of senators and other politicians, forgetting about my presence for a minute. Enough time for me to take a breather.

I retreated a few steps, and then dashed to the other side of the ballroom, hoping to find some known and almost friendly faces to hide with.

With quick steps, I almost ran over a waiter in a white and black uniform.

“Sorry,” I mumbled to his back.

My heart leapt to my throat and then fell back into my chest, weighting like a dead stone. The waiter turned around, his eyes wide at my face.

“Charlotte,” Mason whispered.

The memories rushed into my mind, my cheeks warming.

Mason was here. Mason is here! My heart pounded against my ribs, so fast it almost hurt. Oh, I had missed him.

The noises of flutes clinking, heels on the floor, and the classical music brought me back, and I put my mask back on, one he didn’t know. “Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his eyes running up and down my fancy gown. “You’re one of them.”

Not a question. He wasn’t stupid, and a few seconds was enough to figure out I was one of them.

Swallowing my nervousness, I eyed sideways. No sign of my mother, but I couldn’t risk it. “Excuse me.”

In a haste, I walked around him, to one of the tall doors behind the heavy curtains, and onto one of the balconies. Unusually cold for May, a chilly breeze bit into my shoulders but I didn’t care. Long breaths of that air would calm me down.

Oh my God, Mason is here. Here! And he had seen me with this crowd.

My mind swam, fighting the enraged tide and failing. My body ached, longing for Mason. If I surrendered to it, I would run back inside the room and throw my arms around him in front of everyone.

Then my mother would freak and kill me.

No. I hadn’t been raised for that.

Slow, deep breaths.

I had been raised to go back in there, to put on a plastic smile, and to dance with Donnie as if Mason had never been in my life. But I couldn’t do that either. My only solution was to pretend to feel unwell and leave. I just hoped Donnie didn’t offer to accompany me to the hotel and stay.

First, I had to calm my racing heart. Slow, deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths. Slow, deep …

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason’s voice sent my heart into a race again.

I whirled and found him near the closed door, standing tall with his hands inside his pant pockets, his gaze downcast.

Even with the waiter uniform, Mason looked as handsome as ever, as energetic and charming and determined as ever. He had combed his hair tonight, probably to look more professional, but a few strands had fallen over his hazel eyes. I wanted to reach over and fix those strands. No. I wanted to run both my hands through his hair and dishevel it, the way I liked it.