Zamor

sing a drink, feeling more invisible than ever. They were playing some silly game.

arrassing kiss. The crowd started chanting names. My name. And Kar

ng to Hayes, then to me. Hayes' s usual smirk was gone. His e

hose

ing laughter. The guy who had to kiss me, a loud jock, groaned. "Ew, really, Hayes? Her

nstructed anonymity had been ripped apart, not by beauty, but by derision. I stoo

a cheap, generic thing, like everything I wore to hide. I tore it, the fabric ripping with a sharp

d, my voice dead calm

rm, his face a mask of confusion. "What

rm away. "You made your choice, Hayes.

e tight. "She was having an episode. I could

e in your little charade?" I paused, forcing myself to look him in the eye. "If it

e protected her, always. He would have sacrificed anyone, anything, to

. He didn't see me. He never had. He

ee and started walki

door, we're over!" His voice w

the moment you said 'important' instead of 'love,' Hayes," I said, without t

ck. I heard him call my name

the streetlights casting long shadows. I looked at my reflection in a dark

eyes. It was my beauty that doomed her. My beauty that nearly doomed me. That's why I hid.

n I desperately wanted to see me. It was a cruel joke. Hiding hadn'

s trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. I needed family. I needed h

eant I didn' t need a job. The other students gossiped about my

documentary about my mother, my quiet, personal tribute. A flicker of pride, the

Karmen Barry. On stage. Acce