Masquerade: Oddly Suited

Oddly Suited

by L.G. Keltner

The alien first appeared in front of the high school, leaning against the trunk of a winter-barren oak tree. It had to be waiting for someone. Knowing my luck, it probably waited for me. I hadn’t expected an encounter with a green creature with a dozen dark eyes and tentacles jutting out from its head, so I stopped in my tracks and, going on instinct, offered it a little wave. It never hurts to be polite to potential extraterrestrial invaders, after all.

When the alien waved back, I got a good look at its clawed hand. Those inch-long finger knives would have looked intimidating if they weren’t so obviously made of rubber. A glance down at its feet revealed a pair of generic, well-worn white and blue sneakers.

Nice costume, I said.

The alien responded with an unintelligible grunt and a haphazard thumbs-up.

Who knew aliens would come to Earth equipped with so much cultural knowledge? I shook my head. Only you, Adam. Only you would show up to school wearing that.

The alien reached up and deftly removed its head, revealing tousled brown hair and a flushed, freckled face. Adam grinned, and my heart kicked into high gear. I had a love-hate relationship with my circulatory system and the way it reacted to his smile.

Hey, Ramona. I found this in my cousin’s attic. He said I could have it. I thought it might be inspirational for our meeting.

I laughed, but it turned into a snort. My traitorous cheeks grew hot, and I looked away so Adam couldn’t see the embarrassment written on my face. Perhaps I could blame it on the cold. We should be getting in there, I said.

Adam opened the door for me, sweeping a great, green arm wide and taking as deep a bow as the costume would allow. This way, my lady.

Thanks, I mumbled as I knocked the snow off my shoes and onto the black rug.

A teacher’s footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent hallway. According to a nearby clock, the first class of the day started in half an hour. I didn’t enjoy getting to school early on a Friday morning, but this made it easier for our production team to hold concept meetings. Our group wasn’t affiliated with the school, but Mr. Redford gave us permission to meet in the band room.

Just outside the room, Adam stopped to settle the mask back into place. I rolled my eyes, but all the while something warm blossomed in my chest. This time I held the door open for him.

Claudia sat in a folding chair with her long legs stretched out in front of her, feet resting atop her saxophone case. Hi, guys. Her gaze landed on my alien companion, and her eyes narrowed. It looks like Adam’s feeling ambitious today.

The string of words that followed were warped by the mask, adding to the illusion that he truly was an alien from another world.

I think you may need subtitles, I teased.

Adam nodded and unleashed another string of garbled sounds. He dropped into a seat beside Claudia, who simply shook her head. Writers are weird, she muttered.

Hey! I protested as I snagged a seat by Adam. Why are you lumping me in with him?

She smirked. Just because you didn’t walk in wearing a smelly old Halloween costume doesn’t mean you aren’t as strange as he is. You merely contain your weirdness to the page.

Which is where it belongs, I replied, though I put no real conviction behind the statement. Adam pulled off his antics with a level of charm I couldn’t replicate. If I tried something similar, people would probably look at me with judgmental eyes. I didn’t understand how two people could do the same thing and get completely different responses from the same crowd, but I’d seen it enough times to know that I needed to leave the class clown shenanigans in Adam’s hands.

Gretchen and her cloud of curly auburn hair came in next with Noah nipping at her heels, a cup of gas station coffee clutched in his hand. Good morning, guys! he said brightly.

Gretchen’s S’up? was far less effusive. She only gave Adam a brief glance before collapsing onto one of the carpeted steps.

With the five of us assembled, I pulled out my notebook and flipped it to a fresh page. Adam typically would have done the same, but his limited dexterity clearly didn’t allow that. He removed the mask so he could speak, at least. The alien head gazed blankly up at me from its new spot on the floor.

We’re all here on time, Claudia noted with an air of surprise. That’s rare.

Hey, Noah protested. I’m on time more often than I’m not, so give me some credit.

I did give you some credit, Claudia replied. I said everyone was on time. That includes you.

Noah stuck his tongue out at her before pushing his black-rimmed glasses back past the bridge of his nose.

This is a concept meeting, Adam said. Maybe we should actually come up with some concepts? It’s a crazy thought, I know.

Gretchen drew back with a gasp, her free hand over her heart. How could you suggest such a thing? Don’t you know that the artistic process begins with procrastination?

Eventually, anyway, I muttered.

Adam grinned at me. I tried to ignore the subsequent flutter in my stomach.

We should be serious about this, Adam said. The rubber of his costume squeaked against the chair as he shifted position. Ramona and I need to write the script for whatever we come up with, and I’d like to get a start on it as soon as possible.

I nodded. So would I. Our next video is posting a couple days before Valentine’s Day, so that should be our influence. Love. Romance. Plenty of room for mishaps and mayhem there. My attempts at romance had certainly been more mishap than anything else, so I felt like an expert on this. Then again, the idea of cowriting anything remotely romantic with Adam found all my internal organs tying themselves into knots.

We could do a skit involving a bad first date, Gretchen said. A blind date, maybe, so these two people know nothing about each other. Maybe one of them can discover something shocking about the other.

Like their date is an alien! Noah pointed to Adam and his ridiculous getup.

Claudia nodded. I like it.

Adam grinned. I guess that means I get the role of alien love interest. This is what I was born for.

Only because you already have the costume, Claudia added.

So what kind of date are we looking at? I asked, tapping my pen against the paper. If we’re doing the traditional kind of restaurant setup, that would require us to get a bunch of extras and a lot of props. Unless, of course, we get permission to film in an actual restaurant, and I can guarantee that won’t happen.

That’s true, Adam said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Maybe we could do a dating show instead. It could be a blind date type setup where they answer questions to see if they want to go out on a date afterwards. That means we’ll only need me as the dashing alien love interest, the girl he’s trying to score a date with, and a host.

What about an interpreter? I asked. Do you think anyone has a chance of understanding anything you say while wearing that mask?

Adam’s grin grew. That’s a great idea. That also means I don’t have to worry about memorizing lines for this one.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. I think the bigger benefit is that we don’t have to look at your face during filming.

Instead of acting offended, Adam waved off her comment. You just can’t risk looking at me for too long, because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me. Don’t worry. I understand your predicament, and I’m not here to judge.

It sounds more like you looked in the mirror and fell in love with yourself, Gretchen shot back.

I put my hands up. Guys, I know you love to banter, but we don’t have a lot of time left. Is this the idea we want to go with? Dating show with a total of four of us on camera? Who are we going to have playing the other three parts?

Noah should definitely be the host, Claudia said. He’s got the showmanship for it.

Noah nodded. I’m in.

It’s Gretchen’s turn to direct, so she can’t be on camera, Claudia added. That leaves me and Ramona. I want to be the interpreter. I don’t think I could pretend to like Adam long enough to get through a whole video, plus I can say whatever I want and claim it was him.

No going off-script! Adam glanced at me. I guess you’re the one I’m going to be trying to sweep off your feet.

I rested my face in my hands to keep the blushing mostly concealed. Okay.

Adam nodded. That’s probably enough to get us started. Ramona and I can meet over the weekend and get a script put together. Does tomorrow after lunch still work for you?

I fought to keep the rioting butterflies in my stomach under control, but I still managed a response. Yeah, sounds good.

Our weekend writing sessions were both fun and gut-wrenching. Forced to sit beside Adam for hours at a time, I tried not to let on how much I liked him. I considered it a special exercise in torment. This time we were going to be writing about romance, which made it even worse. Romance with a humorous thread to it, yes, but romance nonetheless.

How could this not backfire on me?

***

The following day, Adam and I sat on the soft burgundy sectional that dominated one corner of his basement. A bag of half-eaten chips resided on the coffee table next to Adam’s laptop. Writing sessions required the proper fuel. I reached into my backpack and produced a couple of chocolate bars to add to the bounty.

Oh, you brought me chocolates! Adam declared, putting his hand over his heart in dramatic fashion. So romantic!

My cheeks burned red, and I silently cursed my pale skin. I promptly turned my attention to the open notebook in front of me. Actually, I brought them for myself. I might have shared if you didn’t decide to be such a jerk about it.

Adam stuck out his lower lip. That was rude. How am I supposed to write an epic, sweeping romance when you’re doing everything you can to break my heart? The muscles in his face twitched as if he were fighting back tears.

I shook my head, doing my best to suppress a giggle. Is that what we’re writing? Here I was thinking we were trying to come up with some cheesy, moderately amusing drivel. Now I’m feeling the pressure.

He shrugged. As artists, we should always try to make great art. People may say it’s drivel, but one man’s trash is another man’s masterpiece. Everyone has an opinion. Mine is simply more correct than everyone else’s.

I’m glad we got that cleared up, I said dryly.

Happy to help, Adam replied with a smug grin.

We should get to work so we have something to film, though. It can’t count as either art or drivel if we never finish it.

And we did just that. Once we started drafting Noah’s opening spiel, we fell into an easy rhythm. Ideas bounced between us, and we occasionally backtracked and revised when better ideas came to mind. Writing Adam’s lines turned out to be the simplest part of the process. Once we came up with the name Bleeg Blorgington for his character, we copy and pasted inaudible grunting each time he needed to speak. The inflection of each grunt would be different, of course, but he’d play that by ear during filming. His natural ability to ham it up in front of an audience would come in handy.

My character was named Felicity Hart, and a lot of her personality was going to be conveyed through facial expressions. The goal—for her to gradually transition from moderately baffled to utterly smitten over the course of a few minutes.

He could start to win her over by talking about how much he loves to travel, I suggested. Being an alien, he certainly had to travel a long way to be on the show.

Adam nodded, his nimble fingers flying over the keys. Yeah. And I can mention that I have my own ship, and she pictures a yacht or something like that.

After a couple of hours, with only a few conversational diversions along the way, we had most of the script written. We only needed to come up with the perfect ending before we could dive back in to polish it up.

I shifted in my seat, thinking about what kind of ending would make sense with what we’d written thus far. I didn’t want to risk suggesting something too romantic, because at the end of the day, I’d be suggesting he and I do something romantic together. Yes, it would be for the video, but I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t see through me. How do you think we should wrap this up?

Adam hesitated for a moment, nipping at his bottom lip. If I didn’t know better, I’d have guessed he was nervous about something, but that didn’t make sense. Adam remained unfailingly self-confident about most things. This is a ridiculous, cheesy dating show, so we should end it with something silly and over-the-top.

Such as? I asked, curious to see where he was going with this. If it even remotely resembled the images my overly-optimistic imagination conjured for me, then I was in deep trouble.

I was thinking about ending it with...a big, sweeping kiss. Adam’s eyes flicked over to me, judging my reaction. It’ll be weird with the mask on, not even really a kiss at all, but that’s what will make it hilarious.

His words came out in a bit of a rush, and as such, it took a few moments for his proposal to sink in. I let out a slow breath as I flashed through some of the varied scenarios in which I’d envisioned kissing Adam. Some of them closely mirrored the current moment. In the middle of a writing session, his hand would brush mine, and our eyes would meet. Time would draw out as the rest of the world faded away. Then he’d lean forward ever so slowly, and I’d close my eyes and wait for...

No! I tucked those thoughts into the back of my mind. I’d only become infinitely more awkward if I kept thinking such things. And considering Adam’s increasingly uncertain expression, I’d already made matters plenty awkward as it was. Okay, I said, trying to keep my voice steady. That’s a good idea.

It was a terrible idea. Possibly the worst idea in the history of my life, but I didn’t want to say so. Yes, a part of me ached to go along with this, but there were so many ways our little act could go wrong. Acting like I was falling head over heels for Adam’s character was bound to feel like wearing my heart on my sleeve. How could he not see through me?

I reminded myself that we’d be acting. Even if he suspected my feelings, I could deny it. I never needed to admit to anything if I didn’t want to. At that point, trying to get out of it would make me look worse. The group needed me to play this part and not let my own insecurities freak me out.

Meanwhile, Adam’s features relaxed. Great. Like I said, this kiss doesn’t need to be much. It’s more about the lead into it than anything. Sweeping you into my arms and all that. He paused to clear his throat. Let’s finish this up, and I’ll email it to everyone else to read through.

I nodded. Sounds like a plan.

A mask would be between us anyway. Surely that would prove enough of a barrier to prevent me from making a fool of myself.

***

The rest of our ensemble enjoyed the script, and we went through the usual week-long process of bouncing ideas for revision back and forth. I was curious what everyone else would think of Adam’s ending, though I wasn’t certain whether I