Raven

  Masks

  Amara Lynn

  Copyright © 2019 by Amara Lynn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Originally published in 2017 by Less Than Three Press.

  Cover by Ceillie Simkiss.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Raven Preview

  Want More Masks?

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank everyone from the Queer Writers’ Slack and Twitter for supporting me through the ups and downs of my writing journey so far, encouraging me, and helping me figure things out. I wouldn’t be here and about to start the next chapter of this journey without you all.

  * * *

  * * *

  For anyone who has ever felt like they didn’t quite belong.

  1

  I swept my fingers in and out of the Bunsen burner's flame, flirting with the flickering orange and purple and grinning with amusement. I've always felt akin to fire. It was so beautiful and brilliant, yet destructive. Fire could give and it could take.

  "You know you could burn yourself doing that," said a voice, rudely jolting me out of my fire fueled reverie.

  I looked up at the intruder. I'd seen him before in chemistry class. With that bronzed skin, that long, black hair, and those dark eyes, he was hard not to recognize. Not that it really mattered. He was still just another student. Aside from his few defining features, he was just like everyone else.

  I turned my attention back to the flame and resumed what I was doing, a clear dismissal. Instead of going away, he took the seat beside me. How obnoxious. Nobody ever sat by me.

  "I'm Chayton," he said.

  I turned my glare back on him and frowned. "Okay… And?" He was smiling. My scowl deepened.

  "You're Avari Terran, right? We're lab partners."

  I looked at the burner again, sighing. Why did I need a lab partner? I was perfectly capable of doing all of the labs by myself. A lab partner would just get in the way, and mess things up. Did the phrase "doesn't work well with others" that high school teachers so loved to put on report cards mean nothing to these blockheaded university professors?

  "Just stay out of my way and don't screw things up," I snapped at him. When I heard him chuckling, I looked up. "What are you laughing at?" I growled. Maybe if I concentrated hard, his shirt would catch fire. If I was mad enough, I could easily do that.

  "Sorry, it's just…" Chayton trailed off as he fought back a few more laughs. "You're so serious."

  Because this was a very serious matter! I failed to see why it was so amusing for me to be serious about my schoolwork. "Is there a problem with that?" I frowned. I wished he'd go away already.

  "You need to loosen up a little." He leaned back in his seat, putting his arms behind his head.

  I snorted. "Why?" I really wanted to ask why in the hell he even cared, but I stopped myself short.

  "It's not good for you, being serious all the time." He smiled.

  "And who says I'm serious all the time?" I countered his smile with a scowl.

  Chayton leaned closer, and I caught a whiff of campfire smoke and pine. "Are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "No," I blurted, meeting his midnight eyes sternly.

  "Oh? What do you do for fun, then?"

  "None of your business." I tore my gaze from him. Who did he think he was, interrogating me like this? I owed him no explanations or assurances about my behavior or hobbies during my leisure time.

  "Okay, okay." Chayton raised his hands in surrender.

  The lab started, forcing Chayton to drop his line of questioning and focus, for which I was grateful. Of course I did well on the assignment. I didn't credit any of my success to Chayton, though I guess he did help a little, which was much better than him screwing something up.

  As soon as class ended, I threw my stuff in my bag and walked out. Footsteps ran up behind me, and I looked back to see Chayton following me. What did he think he was doing? Couldn't he just buzz off? Why was he trying to catch up with me?

  I stopped walking and turned completely around, glaring at him and crossing my arms. "Can I help you with something?"

  "So, since we're lab partners, we need to be able to get in touch with each other. We should exchange numbers."

  Immediately I frowned. It wasn't that I didn't have a phone. I did, mostly out of necessity. Places like the school needed a phone number on file. I would just as soon not have one, because I didn't want to talk to anyone. I really wasn't too keen on the idea of giving my phone number so freely to him, but clearly there was no avoiding it. I sighed and took out my phone. "Fine. What's your number?" I keyed in the digits as he said them and then called him so he'd get my number.

  "Maybe we'll see each other around the campus," said Chayton with a smile.

  "I hope not," I mumbled.

  I turned away and stared at my phone screen, pretending to look interested in something on it like most of the other students on campus often did. In reality, the only thing on my screen was Chayton's phone number. I started to save it to my contacts. How was "Chayton" spelled? What kind of name was that anyway? I guess I would just save it as "C" for now and figure out how it was spelled later.

  I returned to my dorm room. Locking the door behind me, I let out a heavy sigh.

  Finally. Alone at last.

  My last roommate had made it an impressive two days before requesting a different room. Shortly after that my possessions had flooded into the other side of the room: various books on chemistry and mechanics and architecture, notebooks filled with my scratchy writing, and a few old gadgets I tinkered with on occasion. Having to put up with another person's presence at all hours of the day was exhausting, and made it so I had no privacy. Alone was the only place I could be myself.

  I pulled my shirt off and stretched my arms as I unfolded my black-feathered wings. I've never really known what I am, but when I was just a kid I discovered I had these wings on my back. When they were concealed, they seemed to be completely invisible to other people. Which is probably why I didn't get taken away by the government and experimented on.

  Whatever I was, I was sure I wouldn't know it if anyone else was like me. They were probably hiding, or flying under the radar like I was, because I sure hadn't ever heard anything about a race of winged people. I sat at my desk, flexing my wings more. Perhaps I was an angel, or I guess it'd be more accurate to say a fallen angel. Obviously I wasn't in heaven, or whatever realm it was angels—if such a thing existed—came from.

  Why had I been left alone here? My mother was a human, and my father… Who knows what he was or what happened to him. Once, I sneaked into my case file and dug out my birth certificate. Mother: Arya Terran, Father: Unknown, it read. She died bringing me into this world. I'd been to her grave—if the worn, flat stone marking her burial site could be called that.

  Outside, I could hear the sounds of some obnoxious students goofing off. I ignored them as I opened a book and started on some homework. So foolish. Why did they even come to college if they were just going to party until they flunked out? Being here on scholarships and grants meant I couldn't afford such distractions. Not that I'd want to join them, anyways.

  2

  I'd just finished my afternoon c
lasses, and was making my way across the campus back to my dorm. There were other students about everywhere at this time of day, some soaking up their break between afternoon and evening classes, others done for the day and going back to their dorm to either study like me or going off to shirk their studies. The pace of the people walking in front of me was getting on my last nerve. They weren't even paying attention, more interested in their phones than anything else. To hell with this. I decided to cut across the grass.

  No sooner had I done so did I realize that was a mistake. A familiar figure rose from a nearby tree as I walked past—Chayton.

  "Avari!" Chayton called out, and though I heard him loud and clear, I didn't pause or acknowledge him. Instead I sped up, wanting to be as far away from there and as quickly as possible. With any luck, he'd think I just didn't hear him and forget about trying to flag me down.

  "Wait up!"

  No such luck.

  I refused to wait up; however, Chayton's hand caught my shoulder and turned me to face him. Immediately I shoved his hand off of my shoulder, wincing at the very unwanted contact I hadn't initiated.

  "What?" I snapped at him, meeting the dark-eyed gaze of my unfortunate lab partner.

  If he was at all deterred by my glower, it didn't show on his face. He smiled brightly back at me. "How are you?"

  I raised an eyebrow at him. Was he really inquiring about my well-being? No one ever asked me things like that. What did it matter to him?

  This had to be some cruel trick or a joke. That someone I'd just met—who I would barely define as an acquaintance—would actually care how I was doing was absurd. Whatever Chayton's game was, I wasn't falling for it.

  "Is this about our lab?" I replied tersely.

  "No, I jus—"

  "Then don't bother talking to me," I said, then immediately turned to leave.

  "Wait! Don't leave… I was just trying to be friendly," Chayton said, voice falling.

  "Well, don't be." Without a backward glance, I continued walking, past the towering Campanile and straight for my room. This time Chayton didn't try to stop me, or follow me. We didn't have class together until next week and I didn't care to see Chayton any more before then.

  Eventually, it would sink into Chayton's head that I wasn't interested in any of the dull socialization in which most people engaged. A couple more failed attempts and he would stop trying. It really was nothing personal towards Chayton. I didn't trust anyone. Especially not someone so nice.

  * * *

  I sat in chem lab waiting for class to start. After my last conversation with Chayton, I figured he'd gotten the idea. I hadn't seen or heard from him since last week. As Chayton came in and sat beside me, smiling that friendly smile of his like nothing was wrong, I wondered if maybe I'd just been lucky not seeing him around campus.

  I frowned at him immediately. Even though we were lab partners, I wished he didn't have to sit next to me.

  "How are you today?" asked Chayton, apparently undeterred by my frown.

  I looked away, making a noncommittal noise and shrugging. Luckily, the lecture started, preventing Chayton from saying anything more. For now.

  When the lab portion began, I started getting all of the needed items in order. I didn't bother glancing at Chayton as I started reading through the instructions.

  "So, how are your other classes going?" Ugh. And there it was. More small talk. Such a useless waste of breath that I didn't understand. Why should people pretend to be nice and act like they care about another person's personal life or well-being just for the sake of friendly conversation? Did most people feel awkward if they went too long in silence? That was my only guess.

  I shrugged again instead of answering him. "Just turn on the burner."

  Chayton did. Then talked again. "What's your major?"

  "Bioengineering and Electrical Engineering," I replied without looking at him, keeping my attention on measuring. Maybe that answer would get him to shut up and concentrate on the lab. I really wished he'd stop with the small talk soon.

  "Oh! A double major, huh? I'm a Bioengineering major."

  "Ah." And I cared why? "Will you stop asking me useless questions and help measure?"

  That got him to shut up. Finally.

  Chayton wrote our observations while I performed the lab. I didn't look at him, though my curiosity did get the best of me, and I glanced inconspicuously over at his paper to read his name: Chayton Solomon.

  So that's how his name was spelled.

  Once the lab was over, Chayton handed in our worksheet, and I packed up my things, heading out before he got back to our table. When I heard footsteps trailing behind me, I sighed. I didn't have to look back to know who was following me.

  "Hey, um…" I rolled my eyes and kept walking. Unfortunately, Chayton kept up with me, and went on speaking. "There's a party tonight on campus. You think you'll go?"

  I couldn't help snorting. Did he really think I was interested in a damn college party? "I don't think so."

  "Oh. Well, if you do show up, maybe I'll see you there," Chayton replied. He was being ridiculously optimistic, wasn't he?

  "I wouldn't count on it," I said, and kept walking.

  Chayton didn't have a reply for that, and didn't keep trying to walk with me. Good. Maybe he was starting to get it.

  I dropped my things off at my dorm and started walking towards the edge of the campus. Thwarting Chayton's attempts was beginning to get on my last nerve, and I needed some space from everything. As soon as I was in a less crowded spot, I slipped in between some buildings and pulled off my shirt, stretching my wings out to their full span. After I looped my shirt through my belt, I was off.

  Being up in the clouds was like nothing else, and almost instantly, my anger faded. Up here, the buildings, cars and people were just tiny specks, and I could just forget about everything. Even if it was only for a moment. School and all the homework that came with it made it hard to find the time to just get away like this.

  I flew across the Bay, looking down on the vast, hilly cityscape of San Francisco. From this height it almost seemed like a picture, still and silent, when in reality it was the exact opposite. Why anyone would want to be down there in that mess, I would never understand.

  The Golden Gate came into view below me, and I descended, perching on top of it and looking down on the endless traffic going to and from the city. Cars seemed so stressful. I was glad I could just fly.

  I contemplated burritos as a dinner option. Since I was already off campus, I could go somewhere decent, unlike the student center, which always seemed to have awful, stale burritos at this time of the day.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Was someone texting me? Who in the hell would be texting me? I yanked my phone out of my pocket.

  It was from the letter "C" because I hadn't bothered changing Chayton's name in my contacts.

  What're you up to?

  It's not like I could be honest and say "Oh, you know, flying around, standing on top of a bridge; the usual." Yeah, right. Why was Chayton texting me? Did he think he would actually get a reply from me?

  Whatever.

  I took off into the air again, flying back in the direction of the campus. Part of the way back, I landed on top of a building, trying to settle on where to get a burrito, when my phone rang. I took one glance at the caller ID, sighed, and answered it.

  "Why are you calling me?"

  "Hey, what're you doing?" This again? When was he going to get it through his thick skull?

  "Is this about class?"

  "No…" he trailed off, perplexed sounding.

  "Then it's none of your business." I growled and hung up before he could say anything else.

  I didn't know what the deal was with him trying to be all nice to me, but I was about tired of it already. At this rate, I'd have to change my damn number. I clenched my teeth, seething as my blood started to boil. God, I hated him so much!

  I wanted to hurl my phone across the
city, and I almost did, flinging my arm but keeping hold of my phone at the last moment. I'd just have to replace the damn thing if I did.

  A sudden boom from below, followed by screams, startled me. I looked down at the street to see a parked car ablaze. Had I done that? Oops. I usually had better control of it. I looked at my arms. Charred black covered my hands and wrists, and my veins glowed like orange embers. The flames dissipated from around me and I turned my gaze back to the burning car below.

  I stared at the flames, watching them grow along with the chaos. The fire was beautiful, and I probably could have watched it burn down to nothing. It had been a long time since I'd caught something on fire.

  When I was younger, it would happen all the time, but not quite on this scale. Plugs would spark and catch fire, a TV would blow out. The people around me would blame things like faulty wiring. Some of the other children in the foster home knew the truth though.

  It was the weird kid's fault again.

  They saw right through me. Amazing, how little kids can see a person's true nature, yet the adults were oblivious. I never heard the end of their ridicule. When one of them called me a "freak" or "weirdo" it only made it harder to control. Sometimes I didn't even try to. Once, some kid's toy fell prey to my flames, and he told on me. That's when I learned not to trust people. They'll always turn on you. The adults thought I was playing with a lighter or matches. Little did they know there was no lighter, no matches—it was all me.

  A fire truck sounded in the distance, drawing closer, and I knew that sticking around was probably a bad idea. More people were starting to gather at the scene now. Their attention was on the flaming car though, and not me, so I decided it was best to make my exit and head straight back to campus. So much for good burritos.