Unmasked (5 page)

Blade smirked condescendingly, “Have you been preparing that speech for the past 24 hours, Saint?”

“Noelle!” she snapped. “And just go away before you ruin another day for me.”

Blade let out a low whistle and slumped right next to Noelle, unfortunately a tad bit closer than she would have like.

“I said ‘go away’,” she said exasperatingly.

“This is quite entertaining,” Blade chuckled twirling a strand of Noelle’s pin-straight hair. She slapped his hand with a noise much louder than she expected.

“Saint, listen –”

“Noelle! No-elle. No-elle. No-elle,” she shrieked.

“Noelle?” called an unfamiliar voice from afar.

“What?!” she snapped as Miss Willows popped into view.

“Oh,” Miss Willows looked mildly alarmed as she nearly dropped her clipboard, “Your judge for your interview is ready to see you.”

Noelle’s rage flushed out of her as anxiety replaced it once more. She arose at once and followed Miss Willows. She lengthened her strides to ensure that she would escape Blade as soon as possible, secretly envying Lacey for her long legs.

Miss Willows led her down a corridor as they made a few left turns until she reached an office.

Miss Willows motioned for her to enter as she plopped down in a seat parallel to a very large desk; surprisingly, it was so bulky that Noelle began to wonder how it fit in the room in the first place.

On the other side of the desk sat a very gaunt woman with beautifully flushed chocolate cheeks and chestnut eyes.

“How are you doing today, Noelle?” the lady asked with a very bright, white smile.

“O-okay,” Noelle stuttered.

“No need to be nervous,” the lady soothed. “We don’t expect you to climb over walls or jump through tire hoops; we’ll leave that to the Adventure campers. Today we’re just going to conduct an interview which we’ll review over a few of the answers on your test and ask a few other questions.”

Noelle took in a deep breath and forced herself to relax.

“Now,” the lady intoned. “Do you have any questions for me before we begin?”

Noelle automatically shook her head.

“All right then, may I see your scoring sheet?”

With shaking hands, Noelle passed it over to the woman as she reviewed it occasionally making non-committal grunts. Finally she turned to Noelle and another bright smile etched on her face.

“All right, now for question 72 it was a short essay asking who you look up to most, for characters both fictional and real, and why, and you put down the Author. This question earned you points toward Fantasy, but the way you worded the question intrigued me…”

She cleared her throat and began to read:

“
I think that the Author is who I look up to most because he promised to always be there for me. He also promised to always come when I call on him, and most people cannot fulfill this promise all the time. I think that I can trust him more than anyone else, even at the camp.”

The woman shot Noelle a dissolving expression of expectation for her to contradict that the writing wasn’t hers, but she made no argument.

The lady clapped her hands together back and forth as if trying to formulate her next words carefully together.

“Um – your answer was thoughtful, but the way you worded it. Well, it almost seems as if the Author is real.”

“He is real,” Noelle answered simply.

“Right, right,” she added quickly, “real to you, sweetheart, but is there anyone else a little more real to us who you look up to?”

“The Author is who I look up to,” Noelle answered with a slight rage begin to fill her bones.

After a moment’s silence the woman quickly scanned the packet for another question.

“Well there were no other essays in the packet,” she continued. “So, I guess I’ll just ask you a couple more questions. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you – besides the Author, I mean?” she added quickly obviously knowing what Noelle would have said.

Noelle heaved a laborious sigh before recounting her story with Blade the other night.

“And do you love him?”

“No, I despise him,” Noelle answered bitterly.

“Why?” the woman asked slightly alarmed.

“He says that he loved me, but he treated me like some sort of play thing,”

The woman paused to choose her words carefully, once more.

“Maybe it was love; you just don’t know it yet.”

Noelle desperately wanted to explain to the interviewer that the Author truly loved her, and that ‘love’ didn’t make her feel like crap afterward, but the continued on her final question.

“In each genre, we want for there to be minimal drama or tension between our members. Seeing that you and Blade are in the same category, I must ask this final question: If, in the story, you and Blade were to fall in love, would you make amends and cherish each other?”

“No,” Noelle answered without even thinking. “I would rather be an Unwanted.”

The words escaped her mouth, and immediately she wanted to pull them back.

The lady shot her a terse glare before clearing her throat.

“All right, well thank you dear, I think that’s all I needed. Go ahead and return to the rec. center and we’ll have your results in less than half an hour.”

#

She pressed her palm against the dark purple envelope. She didn’t want to know what awaited her inside but wished that she could have redone her interview and just lied for all the questions.

“Might as well open it, Saint,” Blade urged. “Almost everyone has their results already.”

A slight candle of despair arose in her throat burning her oxygen-starved lungs.

She fumbled with the envelope as she tore it open and pulled out a half-sheet of white paper, and in the center it simply read:

NAME
: Noelle

CHARACTERIZATION
: Extra

Noelle’s heart concaved as it slowly wilted away. Like a rose, its shredded pieces drifted to the depths of her soul waiting to burn in a fire of despair. She glanced down at the letter once again to see if she somehow misread the font, but the letters cruelly bled into the paper.

Five simple letters that could rip a soul apart with its icy grip. 

E-X-T-R-A.

Inevitably, the tears streamed in a rapid descent as she thoroughly tried to convince herself that she had fallen into a nightmare and that she would wake up right before the ‘real’ placement would begin.

“Extra, huh?” Blade asked unsympathetically, while Noelle detected a slight hint of pleasure in his voice.

“There must be some mistake,” Noelle began defensively. She didn’t care what Blade thought about her, as long as he believed that she was right.

“The lady in the interview was out to get me. I could see it the minute that I got in. She asked like two questions, and they didn’t even reveal any real character qualities. B-blade, there must be some mis-stake. Extras are ‘nothings’, and the Author told me that I was going to do something great it my life. ‘N-nothings’ just c-can’t do  ‘s-something’ because they’re n-n-nothing…”

Her last sentence was drowned out by another handful of tears. Not to mention that not one camper could decipher what she was trying to say in the first place with her face buried into her hands.

If Noelle approached Lacey or even Elm with this argument, she would have been welcomed into a plethora of hugs and encouragements.

But her words didn’t dissolve Blade’s expression into something empathetic at all. He looked satisfied as if he had proven Noelle wrong.

He shrugged his shoulders apathetically and replied, “Well life sucks, and then you die.”

“Gee thanks,” Noelle spat bitterly.

Before Blade could respond, Miss Willows stepped up toward the microphone once more.

“All right, the Unknowns are nearly complete with their placement, but we already have all of Romance results. Now we ask that the mains group together toward the North corner of the rec.. center, Supporting to the South, Villains to the East, and Extras to the West.”

Another flutter of movement buzzed as several people began to wonder which direction meant north. One younger boy held out his forefingers and thumbs in the shape of an ‘L’ and it’s reflection as he sought out the East end of the rec. center.

Noelle didn’t ask for directions. The minute that she spotted Lacey in the corner of the gym, she knew where to go. Lacey had mentioned that she was an Extra the other night. Noelle noticed that a few other Unwanted girls had already begun murmuring their frustrations as the tears streamed down their faces. Noelle shifted her eyes in Lacey’s direction hoping for the same opportunity.

Lacey caught her eyes and offered a sad smile. She outstretched her arms, and Noelle fell into them as she began muttering weak, incoherent defenses.

“I know; I know,” Lacey soothed. “Don’t worry, Noelle. Things could get better from here.”

“How?” Noelle demanded suddenly pulling away, unleashing all of her rage. “How can it ever change? Someone said that this placement is where we’re going to be for the rest of our lives. If the Author told me of some ‘great plan’ of his, why was I put as an Unwanted?”

Lacey opened her mouth and closed it again debating on how to answer. Noelle took this opportunity of awkward silence to continue her rant.

“See? No answer. That’s all he’s been giving me lately. No – no actually it’s been ‘wait’. Wait for what? Wait for him to actually show up? Where was he last night on the dance floor? Where was he during the interview where the lady said that he was imaginary? If someone thought that I wasn’t real, I wouldn’t want them to believe that, why doesn’t he –”

“Noelle, calm down!” Lacey wailed.

Noelle paused as several eyes drilled in her direction. The girls previously sobbing their eyes out gawked at her; one let out an involuntary sniff.

After another pregnant silence, they once more began their conversations, and Lacey dropped her voice very low.

“Sometimes we don’t understand the Author’s intentions completely, and that’s okay. We just need to remember that he has a plan for our story.”

“Because that’s worked out so well for you now,” Noelle added with spite that she had not intended to be so strong, but Lacey didn’t look offended. Instead, she looked determined.

Lacey trotted off and returned twenty seconds later with a step stool, about five feet high.

“Get on,” she commanded.

“What, why? This is so stu–”

“Get on!” Lacey repeated forcefully, in a voice quite unlike the calm serene “Lacey” that Noelle had met the other night.

Obediently, Noelle climbed to the top and faced Lacey.

“Now what?” she demanded.

“Turn around,” Lacey said firmly as she made a whirling motion with her index finger.

Noelle did so. Ten seconds. Forty. Fifty passed by while Lacey muttered something to the other Unwanteds. Impatiently Noelle whirled around as she saw the other Extras lined up in a row with their arms outstretched.

“I didn’t tell you to face them,” Lacey began.

“But what are you going to make me do?” Noelle asked, curiously with a hint of exasperation.

“Turn around, Noelle!”

“Answer my question first,”

“Turn around, and I will tell you.”

Noelle spun around as Lacey meandered over to the other side of the platform.

“Now cross your arms in front of your chest. Form them like an ‘X’,” Lacey commanded.

“What are you going to make – ?”

“You’ll see in a minute,” Lacey groaned with a hint of impatience. “Now find a spot on the ceiling and stare at it. I don’t want you to take your eyes off of it, okay? Have you found the spot?”

Noelle picked a tile with a very large crack which she assumed during stormy days would have a bucket parallel toward it to collect the raindrops that entered through the crevice.

“Yes, I found a spot.”

“Good,” Lacey said. “Now keep staring at it, and I want you to fall backwards.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Fall backwards,” Lacey repeated.

Noelle pulled her gaze off of the ceiling crevice as she stared at Lacey in disbelief. Inevitably she glanced downward and realized just how high five feet seemed. Then she swiftly gazed at the crowd before she returned her gaze to Lacey.

“No,” she answered firmly.

“‘No’ what?”

“I’m not falling backwards,” Noelle answered defiantly as she pulled her arms out of the X shape on her chest and crossed them. “It’s way too high up here. Plus I don’t really know any of the people catching me. So, no, I’m not falling backwards.”

Lacey mimicked Noelle’s defiant stance.

“Oh yes you are,” she answered sounding scarily alike to a fed-up mother. “I’m going to tell you exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to turn right back around and place your hands like and X across your chest. You’re going to find that spot on the ceiling, and you’ll fall backwards without another word.

“And you know why you’re going to do it, Noelle? Because you’re going to learn to trust, to take a step of faith and fall. That spot you see in the ceiling is your plan for your life, and when you begin to trust and take that step of faith, you’re going to see it and want to reach for it, and your heart is going to sink when it begins to fall away.

“The joy is in the journey, and you’ll see why. When you let go of those selfish dreams, you’ll learn how glad you were when you took that step of faith. And that Noelle is why you’re going to fall into their arms.”

Noelle opened her mouth to argue but closed it again as she processed the words, but she decided to unleash her one last once of defiance on Lacey.

“And if I don’t?”

Lacey’s mouth twisted into a thin smile, “Then you will sleep outside tonight. We will lock you out of the cabin.”

“But – ”

“No ‘buts’ or yours is going to be freezing outside the cabin tonight. Now turn around and fall.”

Obediently Noelle spun around and placed her arms perpendicularly across her chest. She glanced up at the ceiling tile and tried her best not to think about how far she would have to collapse.

She clamped her eyes shut and threw her body weight backwards.

Halfway through the free-fall she wanted to rise back to the platform and tell Lacey to forget the whole thing. While the entire descent lasted two seconds, to Noelle, it felt like an eternity.

Suddenly the warm embrace of her cabin mates surrounded her as she collapsed into their arms.

#

After everyone in the cabin did the trust fall, Lacey led them outside, and immediately Noelle spotted dozens of tables lined in a row. Some had lights strung across them with several posters aligning the backs while others had very mild decorations such as a balloon here or a streamer there.

“Where are we going?” Noelle asked curiously.

“Activities fair,” Lacey answered as she pulled out a clipboard and analyzed it dully. “I think the
lectors
use it in what they call ‘college’.”

“A lec-ta-what?”

“Oh,” Lacey snapped to attention, “that’s right. Most of you don’t know camper slang yet. Lectors are readers. They read our stories, and rate them based on favorites or non-favorites. They’re kind of like a judging panel, but the stories entertain them in return.”

Noelle shuddered at the thought that a random stranger could be analyzing her motions that very second.

“They aren’t reading about us now,” Lacey added quickly as she observed the worrisome expressions on the camper’s faces. “That would be so boring. No, they don’t start reading until the story begins. The
real
story. The one you’ll be training for your entire time here at campus.”

“Then what is this activities fair for?” one girl in pig tails piped up from the back of the crowd.

“The Activities Fair is basically what it sounds like. There are different clubs that you can sign up for that will either help your prepare for your story experience or just meet new friends. There are also job opportunities available which will help you purchase items at the campus store and snack shack. But I won’t hold you back here, so go ahead and explore!”

The Extras stood stunned for a few seconds not quite sure what to do. Then suddenly the girl in pigtails bravely ventured forth, and the crowd dispersed quickly.

Noelle stared at Lacey with a hint of dependence and a dash of
I-don’t-know-what-the-heck-I’m-doing
.

Lacey seemed to read her anxious expression, “Would you like me to show you around the activities fair?”

“Yes please,” Noelle answered meekly.

Lacey straightened up as she adjusted her clipboard like a baby encompassed in her arms.

“Here, we’ll visit the theater booth first; they always have some interesting stuff.”

Noelle followed a footstep behind Lacey as they meandered over to a very exuberant red table with a bazillion flashing lights that blinded Noelle instantly.

“Hey guys,” shouted a very peppy girl, hair in golden fishtail braid. “Like, welcome to the theater booth. In our program, we reenact stories and even do a little original script writing. Of course, our last author, Geoffrey Herot, had one of his scene acted out in his
real
story. We have the actual coverage.”

She held out a round disc that reflected the bright lights right into Noelle’s vision.

“What is that?” she asked shielding her face with one hand.

“A rough draft of the book,” Lacey answered almost without pausing. “They cover all of the footage in the story and send it back here to campus for us to review. Then they edit and present it to the lectors.”

“Do books really look like
that
?”

“To us, yes, to the readers, they’re a tad bit different.”

The exuberant girl cleared her throat indignantly clearly annoyed that she lost her attention on a rather petty matter.

“So anyways, a copy of the rough draft cost ten fragments.”

“Currency here,” Lacey explained before Noelle could ask. She turned to the girl and shook her head sadly. “Sorry, but maybe another time.”

The two girls turned away before the theater girl could make another offer.

“So you pay in
fragments
?” Noelle wondered aloud, as she began to worry that she could only process so much in one day.

“Well 20 fragments equals a complete sentence. And 10 complete sentences equals a run on. But yeah that’s how our currency is here in campus. So is there any other booth you’d like to visit?”

Noelle emitted a noncommittal grunt before peering around the tables.

They stopped by a raven, curly haired chick’s table, and Noelle couldn’t help but spot the flower patterns in the girl’s eyes; the irises formed geometric shapes in perfect triangles that could be mistaken for petals. The sky blues and deep cobalts looked too perfect to be natural. The girl dawned on a pair of red jeans and rock t-shirt from some campus band.