Chapter three excerpt: Masquerade Ball

Ominous. Magnetic. Dangerous. Few words came to mind as white snow descended from the thick night sky, illuminating the sharp arches of the gothic castle. Students of Chicago’s most prized preparatory academy layered the marble entrance, glimmering under the night sky like the castle itself. Girls donned plump jewels across their necks and wrists, restlessly tugging at their skirts as boys passed, feigning oblivion with every confident stride. Every curious glance sent Arabella’s way reminded her that she probably should have felt anxious or intimidated, but the sheer madness of it all upturned the edges of her fuchsia-stained lips. Her mask had officially morphed from dress-code adherence into a somber metaphor.

After gazing at her new reality for a few more moments, she tugged at her silk skirts, reluctantly pushing through the grand doors of the masquerade party. Middle-aged men and women whispered as Arabella passed, their weathered faces painted with a mix of disdain and curiosity. As if she were the oddity here, in a castle filled with teeming socialites who apparently found pleasure in wearing gowns and gossiping about new arrivals. Really, only Malvern Prep could turn an academic orientation into a ball for the privileged. All this was a far cry from the rusting lockers and surfboard smiles of her old school. A part of her missed California, if only for the feeling of familiarity. Proximity to the sun and the seas was a given there and an impossibility here.

Circling past hallways for what felt like an eternity, Arabella finally found the ballroom and edged inside. The yellow lights glowed dimly, softly illuminating glittered masks and crystal flutes of champagne. With practiced indifference, waiters wove in and out of the room in a silent rhythm. Polished laughter and whispers of the new girl admitted to Malvern collided midair in a bittersweet cacophony. Her head dipped at the sound of her name being spoken from a stranger’s lips. Even the delicate sounds of orchestral music couldn’t soothe Arabella’s mounting unease, which only escalated as she felt someone hover beside her.

“Not a fan of Dvorak?”

“I like Dvorak.”

“The company, then?”

“Impressive skills of deduction.”

At the sound of warm laughter just soft enough to suit the stifling decorum of the orientation ball, Arabella finally angled her head to the side. She was only a little surprised to see yet another unfairly good-looking boy smiling back at her, ash grey eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I’m Noah,” he said. “You must be the new girl.”

Although he spoke unassumingly, his tone oozed the kind of confidence that could only be cultivated over years of practice. His dark suit was immaculate, polished shoes shining effortlessly under the light. The mask he wore did little to hide the subtle arches of his nose, lips, and jaw, mahogany hair mussed in precise dishevelment. These Chicago boys seemed to represent a seamless brand of perfection that could be sought but never achieved. 

“Arabella,” she tested a smile just as a trio of teenage girls rushed past them, giggling under their breath. “Though it seems like common knowledge at this point. The way people are staring at me, I may as well have come dressed in neon flannel.”

“While that would have been a sight to see,” Noah chuckled. “You needn’t invest quite that much effort. Malvern Prep has a waitlist that runs for miles, yet they accepted a new student out of the blue. You’ve been the talk of the summer.” He cocked his head to the side. “Even I admit, I’m curious. What makes you so special?”

“I’m not special,” Arabella replied in earnest. At least, she hadn’t thought she was until her school counselor called her in one day to discuss summer plans. Instead of swimming on sandy beaches and working up a tan, she was forced to fill out a dreadfully long application to an extremely selective prep school located in the heart of the Midwest. As soon as the sent papers had been sent in, Arabella had thought the entire ordeal was over. But with Emilia’s sudden death, all of that seemed so long ago and so very inconsequential. Her acceptance hadn’t been a part of the plan, but her mother was considering the move to Chicago anyway; this acceptance had given her the final push she needed to be convinced.

Noah hummed, but his handsome face was colored in shades of doubt. A sudden realization struck her as she examined him; for the first time that entire evening, she felt completely at ease. Arabella wasn’t sure whether to lean into the feeling or heed it as a warning.

So instead of satisfying his curiosities, she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Are students at Malvern always this dull? Or is tonight just an impressive attempt to reach uncharted levels of boredom?”

“More the former than the latter,” he admitted, his former curiosity all but forgotten. “There are exceptions, me being one of them, of course.”

“Of course,” she echoed his teasing tone. As their conversation transgressed, more people stopped dancing, instead turning casually to one another as if in deep conversation. As if they were incapable of seeing their heads turn towards the two every few seconds. Or perhaps just uncaring of the fact that Arabella and Noah could.

“You’ll be a refreshing change. We haven’t had a new kid in seven years. The last one who joined Malvern is now one of my closest friends, so I have high hopes for you.”

“Well, I do like having connections.” Despite the obvious stares and whispers flooding the room, a wry smile emerged on Arabella’s face. “And who better connected than the son of a senator.”

To his credit, Noah recovered quickly, his mouth opening, closing, then forming a small smile as he scanned her face once again.

“How did you know?”

“Oh, come now, Noah. You didn’t think the privileged were the only ones capable of doing a bit of research, did you?”

Laughing loudly, Noah grasped her fingers and spun her into the circle of dancers before she could utter another word. Now they stood closer to the center of the room. She turned to find him right behind her, sporting a wide grin as the music eclipsed to an end. Some of the couples who’d been dancing swept off towards the tables lined with decadent desserts, while others continued to sway to an invisible beat.

“I think we’re going to be great friends, you and I,” he said, offering Arabella his hand as the string quartet recommenced. But instead of pulling her into the waltz that was starting, Noah dropped her hand the second her fingers touched his. He stared across the room in a daze, grey eyes wide with shock.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” Arabella asked, growing more alarmed with every second that he stood frozen. As she searched the room for the possible cause of his strange reaction, she glimpsed a shock of black hair and emerald silk. Everything suddenly slid into place.

“Noah? Please don’t tell me a girl has somehow managed to make a bumbling mess out of the funny, charming, and handsome guy I was just about to dance with.”

Surprise evaporating in mere seconds, a boyish grin instantly slid onto Noah’s face. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Noah!” Arabella slapped his arm lightly, unsure if she was more amused or annoyed with him. “Is that all you got from what I just said?”

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only part that mattered.”

She shoved him once more for good measure. Curiosity got the best of her as Arabella searched again for dark hair in the masked crowd. “Who is she?”

For the first time that night, Noah appeared shy, scratching the back of his neck as a light flush appeared on his tan face. As a self-proclaimed cynic, Arabella couldn’t help but recall all the foolish teen couples from her old school. Despite her old friends’ relentless disagreement, they were all bound to fall into the same loveless trap from what she gathered. Affection only lasted until one got bored of the other’s company and somehow, they found a way to add an element of drama, if only to escape the monotony that comes with forced relationships. None of this, of course, would change the way Noah felt about this girl. Whoever she was, clearly, she meant something to him.

“A close friend of mine.”

“While that’s truly enlightening, a name might even be more helpful.”

When Noah didn’t respond immediately, Arabella craned her neck, perusing the crowd once more. Her eyes drank in the intricate décor as she scanned the entirety of the ballroom. At the edge of the ballroom, partly shrouded by a banner, was an elegant bar she’d failed to notice initially. There appeared to be two people leaning against the counter. One was Noah’s mystery girl, while the other looked to be yet another tall, well-dressed boy. She seemed to be having an intimate conversation with him, though Noah didn’t look too bothered. In fact, when he finally spotted the two, he grinned.

“Arabella,” he said. “Would you be interested in meeting my two best friends?”

“Are they like you?”

“I’d say very much like me.”

“Then no.”