Winter Ball
I pray for my little moon-pie every morning and night
God answered back with a bundle of delight
Two of his angels from heaven took flight
And blessed me with two more little moon-pies.
I wake with a sharp jolt, gasping and choking for air. My mother was referring to Tyler and Naya in her lullaby. All this time she was talking about Naya. I had no clue. I vigorously glance around my bedroom. I am alone again. Hunter is gone. Something fierce and aching spreads throughout my body. I notice a plain sheet of white paper with Hunter’s handwriting on the pillow beside me:
Isabel,
We’ve came so far yet we haven’t quite moved. We are stuck. I don’t think we have much of a future together. I wished for it. I dreamed about it. But you and I are simply incapable of fitting together the way we should.
We don’t match.
I do love you, and I need you to understand with absolute clarity that I’ve always loved you. I’ve only loved you. But, to be honest and fair to you, I’m not your prince.
Max, Max makes a good prince. Max isn’t tarnished the way I am. He’s stable and righteous. He’s exactly what you need.
Me?
I’m not good enough for you. I’ll never be good enough for you. I tried to tell you I wasn’t in the beginning. I think you just misinterpreted what I was saying.
An illusion you see.
But the delusion ends here, and so do we. I know I can’t help myself from wanting you. I don’t have the willpower, so it’s ultimately up to you.
I know I’m contradicting myself at this point. I just have to write what’s been cramped in my head; whether you can comprehend what I’m trying to say is the ultimate goal.
I need you to choose him, Isabel.
Don’t come back to me.
You’re strong.
I know you can move on, past me.
I’ll only continue to break you if you do. The most insane part is that I actually enjoy the process of breaking you down, watching you crack when I put just enough pressure on the most vulnerable part of you.
Sick, isn’t it?
That is what I’m trying to protect you from. You should not fret anyway. I have always been your dragon.
PS-Give yourself one night to be carefree. Max and I have figured everything out. We’ll let you in once the Winter Ball is over.
Hunter
Harshly wiping the tears away with the backs of my hands, I rip the note, completely tearing it into a million pieces of white confetti. Laughing hysterically, I stand and grip handfuls of it and toss it high in the air. I twirl as it flutters all around me like falling snowflakes. This could be it; the part where I actually go insane.
How much can one human really endure?
It’s as if I fell down the rabbit hole and have been living in a world full of illusion and reverie.
Who am I?
What do I want?
What do I like?
What do I aspire to be?
The most devastating part is that I can’t think of anything worth repeating. I stumble backwards and land on my wooden floor, crying. I guess there is a silver lining in this storm cloud: at the end of the ball, I finally get justice for my brother. For the sake of Tyler, I regain my composure. I can’t lose my mind tonight. I have a ball to attend.
***
Soft bristles of a variety of cosmetic brushes glide across my face. He paints my skin in silky powders, creamy and foamy liquids that feel like heaven. Victor has been buffing away at my imperfections for the last twenty minutes. After he is satisfied with my makeup, his skilled hands move to my hair. His slender fingers twist, pin, and weave. I don’t see precisely what he’s doing because I keep my eyes shut during the entire process. Vic will be a legend at what he already does. When he finishes school, he wants to become a costume designer for the rich and famous. Falcon is more about graphics and illustrations; he wants to create comic books and video games. Either way, they’re a creative and artistic pair. Everything’s visual with them.
I wonder what Victor drew his inspiration from with me tonight.
“I need you to stand and disrobe for the next part.”
Standing and keeping my eyes shut, I undo the knot in belt and remove the robe, the material pools at my feet. A breeze does chill me since everything is freshly waxed. I hear Vic lower the dress for me to step in. I do and he pulls the silken inside up my naked body. He strings the silk ribbons through the loops that line the back of my corset on either side, fluffing out the bottom of my gown.
“Ready?” Victor whispers.
Opening my eyes, I nod and he spins me around to face the full-length oval mirror. It isn’t difficult to see where he drew his inspiration from. I am winter. The makeup on my face is subtle but also very complex. Icy blues, metallic silvers, frosty whites are distributed flawlessly across the lids of my eyes. My lashes are thick and dark, perfectly framing my shimmering eyes that can’t decide whether to be green or hazel brown. The rest of my face is pale in comparison. My hair is styled in a loose and romantic way. The front portion of my hair is in soft beach waves; the rest is braided intricately down my back with sparkling embellishments weaved throughout the tail. Everything compliments my princess gown. Then, I notice every spectrum of color winking back at me from my ears. These are special rainbow diamond studs, Tyler bought me as a Christmas gift so many years ago. These are the same earrings I wore to his funeral. I have no idea where Victor found them. I thought I lost them forever.
Vic smiles at me in the mirror, pulling me close to him. “Well, what do you think?”
I have to contain the need to wail up. “I love it. Will I turn into a pumpkin at the end of the night?”
“Depends,” Max replies, casually leaning into the doorjamb, gazing intently into my eyes in the mirror.
My stomach flutters and I suddenly feel sweaty and tingly all over. I notice he wears all white too. He looks extremely handsome in a white tux; his wavy hair is sleekly gelled back. “On what?”
“Whether you kiss the prince or not,” he murmurs in such a seductive way that I feel his soft words caressing my skin all over.
Holding his intense gaze, I release a shudder sigh. I have a feeling that tonight will determine how the rest of my life goes.
The center of town is so busy. The streets are lined with shiny limos and ornamental horse carriages. All the huge cedar trees that surround the square are wrapped in a billion luminous twinkle lights that look like Christmas and fit in seamlessly with the scheme of the grand Cherry Creek Hotel. The hotel doesn’t look like a hotel at all. It looks more like an exotic grand palace. There’s even a red carpet and rows of photographers for the Cherry Creek Times.
“We don’t have to walk the carpet,” Max whispers into my ear.
I shake my head; my rapid breathing instantly clouds the frigid air. I’m starting new. Max is my new. We flatter each other in every way. What better way to make our debut as a couple than having a picture taken for the world to witness?
He clasps my hand, leading me to the velvet carpet with a maroon and gold backdrop. There’s a sudden uproar as we pause and pose. The photographers shout our names. The sea of flickering and flashing lights are blinding and harsh to the eye, but I smile. I plaster on a fabricated smile and hold on to Max. He exudes intensity and power. That gives me a sense of strength, even if it is temporary.
I feel strong next to him.
I am strong next to him.
Will I always be strong next to him?
We make our way through the double glass doors. I blink away the spots from the brilliant flashes. The inside is just as extravagant as the outside. The interior is decorated in plush and lavish furnishings. Everything from the walls to the carpets is rich in color. The Winter Ball is held in the banquet room.
Max and I navigate our way through the hotel. Once in, I’m astonished at all the residents of Bayham County. An array of colorful gowns and dapper tuxedos float about. Some are chatting away in corners, others are dancing and dining. A live band plays on the stage. It’s like I jumped into a fairy tale of someone else’s book. Circular linen tables are piled high with selections of foods. Platters of crisp fruit, delicate cheeses, fresh breads, thin sliced meats, and waterfalls of wine are sorted throughout the room. You simply walk up to a table and serve yourself. There are rest and lounge areas in the room as well.
Max walks me to an empty table on the side; we have a great view of the band and dance floor. He actually pulls my chair out for me. I sit, feeling a little awkward. Max caresses my cheek. “Relax, Pumpkin. We are here to have a night off from the drama. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just breathe. Okay?”
“I’m trying. It’s difficult,” I say, inhaling deeply but unable to soothe the burning in my chest.
He smiles and gives my chin a soft, reassuring pinch. “You thirsty?”
“Yes.”
He glances around conspiratorially. “I’m off duty, so I don’t mind if you have a glass of wine.”
“Gee, thanks.” I try not to sound sarcastic but fail miserably.
His smile broadens and he gives his head a slight shake. “Be right back.”
I watch him stroll to a table full of elegant goblets filled with blood-red wine. A dark-haired giggling woman in a royal blue dress stops and happily converses with Max, it doesn’t surprise me. Being as attractive as Max, I’m sure he has a continual supply of admires.
My eyes dart around for Harmony, Falcon, and Vic. I spot the ruby gleam of Victor’s shimmering tux jacket against the pale marble of the dance floor. Victor says red is his signature color. It looks good on him. He notices me and gives an enthusiastic wave. I sheepishly wave back and continue to scan. Falcon is gathered at a table with other businesslike dominant males, but his eyes are directly on Vic. Falcon smiles sinfully into his wineglass, probably contemplating on testing Victor’s dance moves later tonight. His head cocks to the side and he glances at me. I suggestively wiggle my brows and Falcon shoots me a flirty wink. My gaze moves on. Harmony and Jason speak among themselves at a table near a profusion of white flowers. I wonder what they’re talking about. Harmony looks at ease and Jason is as handsome as ever. With eyes the color of honey and richly brown skin, Jason reminds me of a sweet candy bar. I hope he’s just as sweet in the inside. She nods and laughs at whatever he has said and then her gaze drifts to me. She grins, flipping her bouncy, lustrous blond hair over her shoulder. “He is ultra fine,” she mouths to me. Nodding, I agree.
Then, suddenly, it’s like my entire body is lit on fire. I rotate my stiff neck, gripping the back of it with my hand. My eyes sweep the place as if looking for the source. The thought of someone producing a reaction from my body with only a look alone is a silly one, but it doesn’t mean it’s any less true. I lock eyes with the origin of my distress. Fiery blue sapphires stare openly back at me.
Hunter Knight stands at the entrance, dressed in an all black suit. His golden hair is pulled into an untidy knot at the nape of his neck. The muscles in his jaw are tense and his eyes are forced on me with that kind of eerily precision that cause every fiber in my being tremble.
My mouth helplessly falls open and I take what seems to be my very first breath today. I have to desperately grip the edges of the table to keep myself anchored and not run to him. God, I want to run to him. I want to run to him so bad; it’s actually hurting me not to. I’m brought back to reality when a very beautiful Candy nuzzles into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Candy wears a short lacy black gown that matches Hunter’s suit perfectly. Her red hair flows elegantly down her shoulders in bundles of loose waves. She looks up at him with all the awe and admiration in the world. Hunter breaks our eye contact and sweeps strands of red hair behind her ear. There, around his left wrist, I see a thin rope bracelet that matches all the colors in my earrings.
Did he wear that for Tyler?
Hunter kisses Candy on the cheek and the two of them make their way to a table. I suppress the compelling urge to fly to him if I could.
“Hey, you’re Isabel, right?”
I’m startled when a young girl in a peach-colored gown and a glittering headband that tames lots and lots of dark curls, flops down in the chair beside me.
“Umm, yeah.”
“Oh, right…I’m sorry. You probably have no idea who I am, or what you saved me from. I’m Apple Baker. You saved from my sleazy ex back at Rex’s birthday party. Derrick told me everything. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Apple.” I smile at her, my eyes thoroughly moving over her face. Her last name is Baker. Is she Sally’s little sister? Apple looks nothing like Sally or her parents. “Are you Sally’s sister?”
She nods energetically, her beautiful curls bouncing all over the place. “Yeah, but I’m adopted from Brazil. Mama said the Lord gave her a calling and she knew she should adopt since she can’t physically have any more kids. I have two more little brothers. Let’s see…There’s Johnny, who’s ten and Christen, who’s four. Mom and Dad adopted Johnny from Egypt. They adopted Christen from India. We have our own little United Nations.” She beams at me.
“That’s really cool, Apple. I bet it’s fun to have such a big family.”
She nods again. “Yeah, but Sally blows me off like any other big sister would. The boys aren’t much fun because, well, they’re boys. Mama overwhelms herself with planning events and Daddy…Daddy is the most tranquil one. We do yoga early in the mornings and drink green tea and shots of wheatgrass together. That stuff in so gross, though.” She leans in and lowers her animated voice to a whisper. “I get the bubble-guts every time. Daddy says it’s suppose to clean you right out.”
I toss my head back and I’m helpless from the loud giggling erupting from me. Apple playfully slaps my arm, possibly offended. I laugh so hard my stomach muscles cramp. “I’m sorry, Apple, but you are just so silly in the funniest way.” I wipe the tears from my eyes and relieved that she appears amused, too. “I’m glad to see you like this, Apple. Back at the party you didn’t look so good.”
She sighs, fluffing out her gown with her white-gloved fingers. “It’s hard for me to fit in, Isabel,” Apple whispers like a soft confession. “All I want is to belong. The kids at school…they can be cruel. Everything has gotten worse. The nerds bully the band geeks now. I just thought maybe the drunken slash whoreish clique was mine.”
“Apple,” I place my hand over hers, “the best part of being special is that you don’t have to fit in. Just be you. I’m sure everyone will come flocking then. How old are you anyway?”
“Sixteen.”
“Much too young to care about what other people think. I want you to look at like this: as long as you’re true and honest to yourself, it’s none of your business what other people think of you.”
She grips my hand. “You’re awesome.”
“You’re better,” I smile.
“Tyler was lucky. I wish you were my older sister.”
A sharp pain stabs me in the heart. “You’d be a great little sister. Sally is very lucky, too.”
She flicks a fat tear from her thick lashes. “Can I have your number…just in case I need to talk to someone?”
I nod and we exchange numbers. Derrick appears from the crowd, placing a protective hand on the back of Apple’s chair. His tux is black but his tie is peach-colored like Apple’s dress. “Apple, what have you gotten yourself into now?”
She tips her head up, fondly smiling at him. “Nothing, Grumpy-frumpy. I was just thanking Isabel. She’s super cool.” Apple’s eyes shift to mine. “Derrick agreed to take me to the ball because I was persistent. I never stopped asking him. But he won’t kiss me because he says I’m just a baby. He’s only eighteen, though. But I’m hoping when I turn eighteen, Derrick will still want to kiss me…and want me. I’m saving myself for him.”
Derricks eyes widen, his white teeth sinks into his full bottom lip. He’s either stifling a smile or laughter, maybe both. He clamps a hand over Apple’s mouth, urging her up. He gives me a sympathized look. “This one never stops talking. I’m glad to see you airborne, Isabel.” Without another word they trail off to the dance floor.
Last time I saw Derrick he said I needed to get my broken wings fixed.
Am I fixed now?
Max finally arrives with a platter of fruit and a glass of wine. “Sorry. I got held up.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He glances at Derrick and Apple. “Making friends with the youth I see.”
I nod, sipping on the rich liquid. Max tosses a few grapes in his mouth. I note he doesn’t have a glass of anything. “You’re not drinking?”
“Not while driving.”
“Are you always this…good?”
He cocks his head to the side, his expression curious. “It depends on what your definition of good is.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…You just seem to do the right thing all the time.”
His violet eyes twinkle with amusement. “Is that such a bad thing?”
Conflicted about how to respond, I take big gulps of the red stuff, hoping to get at least tipsy. I don’t want to be responsible of what spews out of my mouth anymore. “You’re so beautiful, Maxi-pie.”
A huge grin takes over his handsome face. “Flatter me when all else fails.” He gives me a critical once-over that makes my heartbeat stutter in my chest. “I like it.”
I take more sips of wine. Max’s gaze zeros in on my left hand and he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
He motions to my hand. I hold my palm out to him but he flips it over and traces a purplish stripe around my wrist. “How’d you get that bruise?”
I try to yank my hand free but Max’s grasp grows tighter. He looks at me expectedly. I can never lie to him. “Hunter and I were just fooling around. It’s nothing.”
He holds my gaze as he lifts my wrist to his mouth and kisses the discoloration. I gasp, attempting to pull away. Max gives my wrist a soft squeeze. “It’s everything, Isabel. I don’t understand why you let him hurt you. I just want you to open yourself up and learn how to receive new things. Love doesn’t need to hurt all the time. When you know better, you do better. Allow yourself that pleasure.”
He releases my wrist right before I yank it from him. Fury is suddenly spreading through my veins, causing me to be edgy and pissed off. “What are you saying, Max? That I don’t know any better? That I’m ridiculously silly? I’m not. What you said was-was senseless. You’re acting foolish. That’s just plain stupid, you’re being very juvenile. Immaturity doesn’t look good on you.”
Max simply shrugs, tossing grapes in his mouth like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He leans in close to seductively whisper in my ear, “Why are you so angry with me right now? If I let you have your way with me and jack me off under the table will that calm your temper? I think it worked before.” I know he’s teasing or maybe even trying to insult me, but his coarse words have an entirely different effect on me.
I grip his thigh and whimper, “Max.”
“Just because things aren’t going as you planned you can’t abuse me. I’m not going to be your punching bag. You’re in the wrong here. I think you should apologize.”
I swallow loudly. It’s apparently clear that Max is not going to let me walk all over him. I guess being a good guy doesn’t translate into being a weak man. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Max. Hey, Isabel,” Rex greets.
Max and I immediately straighten our pose. Rex and Taylor sit at our table in the chairs across from us. Taylor wears a stunning vibrant silver gown that matches Rex’s tie. Her usually wild hair is straight as corn silk and she has a huge floral hologram hairpin with all the hues of the rainbow that beautifully tucks her silky hair up on the left side.
Did she wear that to symbolize Tyler?
Rex’s curly hair is in its natural state. Though he is Max’s brother, they oddly don’t look very much alike. There’s a deep contrast between the two. Max’s hair is jet-black. Rex’s hair is a lighter ash brown. Max’s eyes are lavender-colored. Rex has brilliant blue eyes. Max’s facial features are sharper and more intense.
Rex reminds me of someone…
“Hey, Rex. Taylor, you look beautiful,” I whisper.
She gives me a tight closed-mouth smile. “Thank you.”
“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” Max grumbles.
Rex leans back into his seat and shrugs nonchalantly. “I changed my mind. Besides, Taylor really wanted to come.”
Max’s face contorts with anger. “But we made a deal.”
Rex eyes his brother. “The deal is off.”
Max’s gaze narrows into tiny slits. “Does Dad know?”
“Fuck Dad,” Rex scoffs.
I watch as Max’s jaw tick. What are they arguing about?
“So, Isabel. How’s your night going?” Taylor asks, cutting right through the tension.
“Okay, I guess. I’m just ready for the entire thing to be over with, honestly.”
She nods, aimlessly glancing around. “I think everyone needs a green frog. My grandpa believes they bring luck.” She pauses and flips her left wrist over. A tiny green frog is tattooed on the edge of her skin there. “This little guy always brings me luck. What do you think of green frogs, Isab