Moment of Truth - Kasie West Page 0,81

on my lock and opened the door. A clear plastic cup sat inside, its bright green contents immediately making my mouth water.

“You’re still on sugar, yes?” a voice from above me said, and I yelped, nearly dropping the Slurpee. I backed up, until I bumped into the row of lockers behind me, and looked up. Sitting on top of the lockers was Heath Hall.

“You were right.” He tugged at the neck of the mask with his right hand. “This thing is hot.” In his left hand he held a Slurpee. He took a sip through the small hole that made up the mouth on the mask. “It’s a good thing I have a favorite drink that is nice and cold.”

My fear dissolved but was replaced with the anger that had been competing for space the last couple days. I’d had a really hard weekend and he hadn’t even checked on me. Instead, he’d walked away and now was making a joke out of what I assumed was his apology.

“Someone once told me that all good apologies are accompanied by a bribe.” He gestured toward the Slurpee I held. I stepped forward, retrieved my math book out of the locker, and shut the door. “How did you get this in my locker?”

“I have a few people on staff that like me as well.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Ms. Lin?”

“I hear she’s your mentor. Knows all about your inner artist. And gets to keep locker combinations in case her poor students forget them.”

“And apparently she gives them out to anyone who asks.”

“Don’t be mad at her. Who can resist this charm?” He took another drink. “This is still really gross.” He set it next to him. “Is everything good with your parents?” he asked.

“We’re going to chat about my parents with you on top of the lockers?”

“Yes.”

The late bell rang and I turned to leave. He jumped down, cutting me off before I could walk away. He grabbed my hand.

I pulled it free. “Is this really how we’re going to do this? You’re going to show up here misusing the mask and assume I’m going to get over it just because you’re trying to be funny?”

“I’m not misusing the mask. This is my fear.”

“No, this is you being ridiculous. You faced your fear out at the lake.”

“I thought I did. But then something occurred to me this weekend. I thought my fear was just about me not knowing what I want. And that’s definitely part of it. But my main problem is that I don’t commit fully. To anything. To a future. To my schoolwork. To a girl.”

I met his eyes. They were all I could see of him. “Will you take that ridiculous thing off? I can’t take you seriously with it on.”

“Are you saying you can take me seriously with it off?”

“Good point.”

He glanced around, probably making sure the row was still empty, and took off the mask. His expression wasn’t one of humor like I’d expected. He actually looked serious and sad, like he really had been agonizing over this all weekend. His hair was even messier than usual and I kept myself from running my fingers through it. He stared at the mask for a long moment.

“I couldn’t even put this thing on at the lake to face my fear. It’s like I couldn’t even commit to that fear. And even when I do know what I want . . .” He looked at me then. “I’m scared to grab hold of it. I’m scared to say it’s what I want just in case I end up being wrong. So on Saturday, with you, I left at the first sign that you might’ve been calling us off. I acted like it was you throwing walls up when really it was me. As soon as I got home, I knew I’d made a mistake, that I shouldn’t have been a jerk. That your request for space wasn’t about me.” He held up the mask. “This is me saying I’m done being scared. This is me committing to my fears, to my life, to you. I’m holding on to you if you’ll have me.”

I stared at the mask in his hand, at the drink in mine, then looked up at him again. “If this is how you realized you felt this weekend, why didn’t you call me? Text me? Come over?”

“Because one, you asked for space and I was trying to respect that. And two, I got my phone taken away