The Masked Ball At Wembley High
Klarisse
Unlike teenagers my age, I found out quite on time that my specs were older men. And the older they were, the more drawn I was to them.
I had a clear picture of what I wanted my man to look like, gray hair, laugh wrinkles on the eyes, a bit of age line on his face, similar to that of my dad’s, but life kept on giving me young boys, when I wanted grown men.
Still groggy from sleep, I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. It was there that I saw Quinton. Quinton Sandman was literally family. He was my father's best friend and my junior brother’s godfather. But to me, he was more than anything familial. Ever since I knew the difference between good and bad and understood the depth of my emotions, I have had a huge crush on him which as the years grew by blossomed into an emotion the dictionary described to be LOVE.
“Klarisee, I was just thinking about you. I found a suit that would look good on Evans for the masked ball. Chat him up and ask him what he thinks about it?” Quinton said, showing me the three piece suit he already placed in the cart on the TEMU shopping app.
Before he proceeded to purchase the items for Evans who he considered a son as a result of him being my boyfriend. I set things straight and broke the news to him.
“Evans and I broke up.” I responded grimly, surprised at myself when tears started to wet my lashes.
Quinton who right from time hated to see me in this type of mode visibly gritted his teeth while folding and unfolding his hands into fists.
“I'm going to kill that son of a scoundrel and his cheating ass.” He spat out, ready to head out to Evans place if need be, to beat him up.
“Its not him. He didn't do anything wrong.” I breathed out, placing a hand on the bridge of my nose with a migraine slowly moving to my frontal lobe.
“I was the one who broke up with him. Evans has been nothing but sweet and kind to me. I…I just wasn't into him that way.” I choked out, the tears finally rolling down my cheeks in a slim line.
“I… I'm so sorry he wasn't the one Klarisse. I'm sure the right person will come along sooner than you think.” Quinton consoled me, only making the whole break up process one hundred times worse with him being oblivious that the right person, the one I really wanted was him and no one else.
“You still need a date though… for the masked ball.” He reminded me of the event happening at Wembley High; my school at the huge hall in the heart of Nashville City. All the while nibbling on his lower lips a habit of his that I found myself doing whenever I was lost in thoughts.
“The neighbor down the road has a son. He attends the same school as you. I can ask him to take you…” Quinton suggested, ready to pick his phone and text the single mother who has shown interest in him on several occasions.
My tongue, like it had a mind of its own, blurted out my inhibited thoughts as I waited for Quinton's response which would either sour or better my mood.
“Come with me instead…You can be my plus one.” I said, holding my breath while silently praying that he agrees.
“Klarisse… no one takes an elderly man to these kinds of stuff. It is for kids your age, not mine.” He replied, finding my heartfelt offer comical with his face lightening up with a wide grin.
“It is a masked ball. No one will recognize you. I promise… please Quinton.” I pleaded, evidently seeping of desperation which I strongly believed he could taste should he stretch out his tongue.
“Will going to the masked ball with you make you happy?” He finally replied after a few seconds which felt like forever of silence.
“Yes… yes it will.” I said, inwardly pumping my fist in the air with Quinton agreeing to take me to the masked ball which has always been a life long dream of mine for as long as I could remember.
The day of the masked ball finally arrived. I wore a golden pleated mask which went well with my paper skin color. And packed my hair into a tight bun so there wouldn't be any obstruction on my face which was caked to perfection.
Quinton was supposed to come pick me up at six on the dot so we could avoid the rush hour and traffic that came with the weekend rush. There was no sign of him as the clock moved without a care in the world and in the blink of an eye, an hour had gone by swiftly.
Just when I was about to give up the wait and call it a night, I received a text message from him.
“Go to the masked ball without me. I'll join you there later. Something important came up.” His message read, the reassurance in the text that he had not stood me up causing me to breath out a sigh of relief as I booked a cab and left for the venue of the ball.
In less than twenty minutes of waiting for him while keeping myself company with the second cup of half empty non alcoholic punch, Quinton showed up dressed in a midnight tux and an owl shaped mask which accentuated well with the sharp features of his face.
“Mi lady.” He slurred out in a smooth Italian accent, slightly bending his neck before offering me his hand for me to take.
“Dance with me… let me make it up to you for keeping you waiting.” He offered, signaling to me with his neck to the dancefloor where my favorite ballad was being played on repeat.
Without giving it a second thought, I accepted his outstretched hand, a soft chuckle falling from both our lips as we joined the others who were already in pairs, bodies glued on each other on the dance floor.
Quinton's hand on my waist was electrifying. It took all the will power that my feeble self control mustered for me not to whimper a sigh of satisfaction at how much I relished him being in my space.
Out of the blue, I felt a hand tapping on my shoulder. I turned to see who it was that disrupted my lovey dovey time with Quinton only to find Evans without a mask on his face squinting both eyes at me half sure if I was the one he was on to.
“Klarisse?”
