still work out with him and Amelia. If he knew how I felt and how she felt, it would clear things up. Everything would turn out fine. Yes, that’s what I’d do.
We sat in a small theater in the old town district. The only people there were Heath Hall supporters, and it was a fairly small crowd at that. Twenty? All faces I recognized. Dylan, Brady, even Robert, who I could now officially eliminate as a suspect. Amelia was surprised to see him there after her talk with him the day before. Maybe the numbers were few because this event seemed even more vague than the others.
The heavy velvet green curtain was open and a single spotlight lit a mic on the stage. Whatever DJ was doing involved that mic. Singing? Speaking?
There were empty chairs on either side of us and Amelia kept looking back toward the door like she thought he’d walk in that way. I figured he’d walk in from backstage, so I didn’t bother craning my neck around.
“You think he’ll make us sit here for three hours?”
“I hope not.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for more people to show up.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But right as I said it, footsteps sounded on the hardwood of the stage and Heath Hall appeared from behind the side curtain. He walked to the mic, tapped it twice, then cleared his throat.
“Tonight I have a declaration. A truth I need to speak that I haven’t been able to as myself.”
This was different. But he’d said the mask wasn’t just about expressing fears. That was just one of its purposes. So tonight we got a truth.
“A poem,” he continued. “Declaring truth. Revealing love. In front of all. It’s from my heart. From my soul.”
It took my brain a moment to realize he had already started the poem. He was midpoem. And he was about to say something he couldn’t say in front of anybody but especially not Amelia. He was going to say he liked me. I stood up and screamed, “No!”
He stopped. The microphone issued a screech of feedback.
Amelia tugged on my arm and whispered, “What are you doing?”
The rest of the room had turned to look at me as well. I was supposed to say something now. Justify why I’d stopped Heath Hall from speaking. I didn’t want to have to tell him that I didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to pull him off the stage and talk privately to him, spare the embarrassment. If he needed a mask to say it, he was already feeling unsure. I wished I didn’t have to do this, but Amelia and her feelings were the most important thing to me right now.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a movement, someone sitting down next to Amelia. Then I heard that someone whisper, “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”
I turned toward that someone, who was now slipping his hand into Amelia’s.
“DJ?”
He smiled up at me. “Hi, Hadley.”
“Oh no.” My eyes whipped back to the stage. Heath Hall still stared at me and appeared to have lost every ounce of the confidence he had when he first got on the stage. I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” Why did I say that out loud to the only person possibly left who could be under that mask? The person I had wanted to be under that mask all along. Was it too late for him to finish what he’d started? “Go on. I’m listening. It was really good.” But he was still frozen, now gripping the mic stand. I gave him my pleading eyes. “Please. Finish.”
From behind me someone called out, “You can do it. Keep going.” I recognized that voice. It felt like the world stopped spinning or some other phenomenon that would explain why I was suddenly dizzy and lost my balance. I braced myself on the back of the seat in front of me. I turned toward the voice behind me.
Jackson.
He winked at me. Then it seemed to register to him that I was standing up. That I was the person who had called out to stop Heath Hall from speaking. He gave me a questioning head tilt. My gaze shot from him to DJ to Robert (still sitting a few rows up from us) and finally to the still-silent Heath Hall. Who was he?
“He’s not any of them,” I whispered to Amelia.
“Huh.” She didn’t seem as concerned about this development as I was. “Back