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Bianaca

We stopped at another large banquet room, a sprawl of food set up on a buffet. Everything from glazed chicken to sugar-sprinkled strawberries to fish fillet. My mouth watered as I took stock of the delicious selection before me.

Maria led us to the line, and we all immediately piled our plates.

Beau chuckled when I skipped the main course and went straight to the dessert. He knew of my chocolate cravings, particularly during a certain time of month. With an amused sigh, he piled extra brownies and cookies on his plate and presented it to me like an offering.

“You’re my hero,” I cooed, smacking him on the cheek. His face went up into flames, and he swatted my shoulder.

I remembered when we had first become friends, ten years ago. Beau had been getting beat up on the playground, and I had retaliated by punching the bullies in the face. Mother had been furious, but Dad? He was proud.

Beau had followed me around the next day of school, a shy and timid boy. At first, I was annoyed by his constant attention, but I soon came to enjoy it. Not just enjoy it, but crave it. We had been inseparable ever since.

The rest of the tour consisted of classrooms, the cafeteria, and the wing that housed the dorms.

It was as we were walking through the second courtyard that I saw them. There were only two of them, gliding across the yard with a grace that made me instantly jealous. Sheathed entirely in black—from their shoes to their gloves—the person on the right wore a white, porcelain mask. It had red, painted-on lips and pinprick black dots for eyes. The person on the left had on a lion mask, complete with a magnificent golden mane and tiny whiskers.

I stopped, shock and disbelief warring in my stomach. I reached out and grabbed Beau’s hand in mine, relying on his steadfast strength.

“Who the hell are they?” I whispered. Maria, who was standing in front of me, spun on her heel.

“Those are two of the professors,” Maria supplied, following the direction of my gaze. The two masked figures slid past us, footsteps almost synchronized. Goosebumps erupted on my flesh, and I rubbed at my arm with my free hand.

“Professors?”

What the hell kind of school was this?

Maria nodded stoutly, reaching for her blond braid to play with the ends.

“It’s their way of dehumanizing themselves, making themselves known as the top dog in the school. It prohibits any kind of relationship or friendship between faculty and students. They don’t talk to us outside of class, and we are never allowed to look at their faces.” She shrugged nonchalantly as if this was completely normal to her. I supposed, in a way, it was. How could she not see how badly that was fucked up?

“Definitely makes for a healthy learning environment,” I drawled sarcastically. If Maria noticed my snark, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she nodded her head seriously.

“It helps.”

Without another word, she spun on her heel once more and led us down a hall. Beau removed his hand from mine, and I instantly missed the contact.

“This is the Registrar and Admissions office.” She pointed to an unassuming room with the front wall made entirely of glass. I could make out standard waiting room chairs positioned around the outer wall of the room and a desk. An auburn head was bent over a stack of paperwork. “You’ll get your dorm number and class schedule here. Everyone, stand in line!”

I moved reluctantly to the back, already hating Maria. She was nice and all, but…

But her damn, manicured hand was on Beau’s forearm a few spots ahead of me. She leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, and he chuckled, a low, delicious sound that sent heat pooling between my legs.

What the fuck was wrong with me? This was Beau, for fuck’s sake. My best friend. Why did I feel so possessive, so jealous, so…aroused? And that was what his laugh did to me, that low, husky chuckle. It made me think dirty thoughts that best friends should most definitely not be thinking.

I continued to watch Maria and Beau converse—well, Maria talked. Beau just nodded his head politely and smiled at the appropriate times. It would take more than a pretty face to get him to talk.

As if he felt my eyes on him, Beau turned toward me. The smile that lit up his face was radiant. It was a smile designed specifically for me. My own lips curved upward, lost in the infectious pull of Beau’s happiness.

He gestured for me to join him. Resisting the urge to smirk smugly at Maria—like a damn middle school girl holding hands for the first time with the popular boy—I took my spot next to Beau.

“I was just telling Beau about some of the classes,” Maria gushed. She smiled at me briefly before her focus returned to him. My stomach tightened uncomfortably, and I shifted from foot to foot.

“What’s your favorite?” I inquired politely. Honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted her to stop talking. She was nice and everything, but I had never been a people person. Only Beau had been able to break through my hard, apathetic exterior. He’d chipped away at my walls, one piece at a time.

“Oh, I don’t know. I really like art class…but that could be just because of the view, you know what I’m saying?” She nudged my side conspiratorially, and I managed to awkwardly laugh. Beau snorted at my failed attempt at “peopleing,” but really, what did he expect from me?