10:24 AM, Thursday, Farkas home

Rhapsody of Love in Fourteen Parts

10:24 AM, Thursday, the Farkas home.

“Sara? This came for you in the mail.” Mr. Farkas slipped the lavender envelope under the rim of his daughter’s plate of French toast. “Sara, did you hear me?”

“Mmhmm,” Sara mused, turning a page.

“Sara, your toast is getting cold,” Mr. Farkas admonished as he went through the rest of the mail.

“I know—just let me finish this page,” she said without looking up.

“If I let you do that, the next thing you say will be ‘Just let me finish this chapter!’ The next thing I know, you’ll have finished the book without even touching your breakfast.”

Sara finally looked up from the worn paperback she was holding. “Dad, this page is the end of the chapter,” she said wryly.

There was a long pause during which father and daughter stared at each other almost without blinking. Finally, Sara put the book down and picked up her fork and knife. As she began to cut her food, Mr. Farkas walked out of the room smugly. He’d won again.

Sara ate her breakfast in silence, not noticing the envelope until a crumb of French toast got on it. “Damn,” she muttered. The syrup-soaked crumb was already leaving a mark, and the envelope looked important.

Shaking off the envelope, she placed it into her book as a bookmark, and forgot all about it.

--

9:37 PM, Thursday, the Halsten home.

The mirror rattled in its frame as Xavier lent forward and rested his forehead against its cool surface. His glittering eyes were only a shade lighter than the emerald polo shirt he was wearing, and the black skinny jeans only complimented the sheen of his dark hair. He smiled at the sight of himself, showing a milky gleam of teeth before closing his lush lips again.

“I think I can safely say that you, Xavier Halsten, are easily the most attractive man I’ve met in ages,” he murmured, locking eyes with his reflection. Continuing the thought, he added, “And I’m not the only one who notices. You’ve got everyone fawning over you.” He paused to note a crease in his shirt. Smoothing it out, he relaxed.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the most beautiful of them all?” A harsher voice than his, although higher, was heard from the door to his bedroom.

“Lynn! Every time I see you in here it’s another reminder of why I lock my door. What do you want?” Xavier asked exasperatedly, turning to face his older sister.

“Oh, my, brother dear, only the answer to a question—here,” she said as she handed him a piece of lavender stationary.

Choosing to ignore it for the moment, Xavier looked at Lynn crossly. “You know, the whole ‘speaking in rhyme’ thing is getting pretty annoying. You should try rapping or something—at least it’d be a change.”

Leaning against the doorjamb, Lynn replied with a condescending “Xavier, rap does rhyme. If you spent as much time exposing yourself to the world as you do staring in the mirror complimenting yourself then you’d know a little more. And although I mean that in the nicest way possible, there is definitely some basis to that.” With her last remark hanging ominously in Xavier’s head, she headed downstairs.

Xavier turned back to the mirror he was still in front of. “She doesn’t mean that, does she? I don’t spend too much time in front of the mirror. Only when it’s to make sure I look good. And I have to look good. For the girls, you know?”

The reflection looking back at him wasn’t so convinced. Sighing, Xavier remembered the piece of paper he held in his hand. The lavender stationary was emitting a soft baby powder smell, and he could feel the femininity oozing from the paper. He smiled. This looked promising.

--

10:18 PM, Thursday, the Farkas home.

Picking up the book she’d been reading that morning, Sara got into bed. Her room light was off, and only the reading lamp above her bed was giving her light. Upon opening the book at her impromptu marker, the lavender envelope fell onto the bedspread.

Sara opened it gingerly. The wafting smell that arose as she pulled the slip of stationary irritated her nose, and she had to choke back a sneeze.

“What is this?” she said softly to herself. The card had dark purple curlicue writing on it, and it was stiff—obviously not flimsy printer paper.

As Sara read over what was on the card, her brown eyes widened until all of both irises could be seen. This looked…terrifying.

--

10:37 AM, Friday, the Elliott driveway.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of his convertible, Mark was waiting patiently. His job today was to pick up Leora and take her to the mall—something about supplies for tomorrow night? Whatever.

The door opened, and Leora came out, dressed perfectly in capri slacks and a soft pink shirt. Her copper-auburn hair was in a long, high ponytail, and the stud earrings she had in were catching the light every time she turned her head. Mark had to admit that every time he saw her, she took his breath away.

She looked down at him from the porch of the house, smiling. Bounding down the steps, she came over to him and kissed his cheek.

“Hi, sweetie, how are you?” she said in a saccharine voice while heading around to the passenger side of the car.

“Fine, Leo, just fine. Tell me again where we’re going?” He asked, putting the car in reverse as Leora buckled up next to him.

“Well—first we’re going to Target, and then to the mall.” She took two sheets of paper out of her purse and handed them to him.

Looking over the GoogleMap directions she’d just given him, he smiled at her and said, “You know, Leo, times like these remind me why I love you. It’s not that I need the directions—but that you cared enough.”

She tilted her head to look at him. “Mark—I love you too.” They sat there staring at each other in silence, their eyes saying everything.

Finally, Mark turned to check behind the car. Backing out of the driveway, they were still engulfed in silence. Suddenly Leora rummaged through her purse and pulled out a lavender envelope.

“Here.” She offered it to Mark, who declined, keeping both hands on the steering wheel.

“Can I read it to you?”

At Mark’s nod, Leora opened the envelope and withdrew the card.

“You’re invited…”

--

10:43 AM, Friday, the Farkas home.

“…To celebrate the end of Spring Break…This Saturday, April 26, from 9 pm onwards…Attire: Masquerade,” she read aloud to her mother.

Masquerade? A voice shouted inside Sara’s head. She read it over to make sure her well-practiced eyes weren’t deceiving her.

It was a masquerade party. This was going to be terrifying.

--

10:52 AM, Friday, the Halsten home (kitchen).

“And it’s hosted by the Leora Elliott. Lynn, are you kidding me, we have to go.”

Lynn only looked at him through the bottom of her water glass. Gulping down the last of her drink, she shook her head at him.

“That thing is not addressed to me.” Lynn spat.

Xavier checked the envelope. Sure enough, it was addressed, in purple glitter pen, to Xavier Halsten. Not even ‘And Guest.’

“Oh, Lynn, I’m sure yours got lost…somewhere…Anyway, it’s a masquerade party, I doubt she’d notice anyway. Hey—Lynn!” He shouted at his sister’s retreating back. “Lynn! Seriously! Don’t be such a pariah!” Xavier’s voice threatened to crack, and he had to tell himself to calm down. It wasn’t good for his complexion to get angry, even if it was at Lynn.

“Xavier—I don’t think you know what pariah means. And if you do, don’t make it sound like I’m a pariah by choice.” And her bedroom door slammed. Inside it, she whispered, “No one’s an outcast by choice.”

Downstairs, still in the kitchen, Xavier muttered, “Sheesh. Whatever happened to siblingly love? Wait—is that even the word?”

--

1:56 PM, Friday, at the mall.

Mark could barely hear himself over the squealing. And no matter what Leora said, he looked ridiculous.

“Oh, my GOD. You look so dashing. Absolutely gorgeous!” Leora squealed.

The attendant was nodding along enthusiastically, eager to make a sale.

“And, Mark, if you wore it tomorrow night—there’s probably a dress around here that’d go great with it, and we could dress to match!” Leora was almost bouncing in her enthusiasm, and Mark couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks were flushed and making her more captivating than ever.

“Leo, I really don’t think this is…me.” Mark shrugged, uncomfortable inside the Tudor-style doublet and hose.

Leora rushed up with two more accessories to his outfit. “Here! Put these on.” The royal blue cap was promptly set on his head by hands more willing than his own, and the black velvet mask was slipped over his ears and arranged to fit his nose.

“Perfect,” Leora breathed. She turned to the saleslady brightly and said, “We’ll take it.”

“Leo!”

Coming up to him, she whispered in his ear, “Mark, I know that you don’t really want to do this—but please. Just this once. Dress up, hang out for like an hour, and then you can go ‘hang with the guys’ or whatever. Please?” Her voice in his ear was breathy—she was too excited to keep her voice to a regular whisper.

“Just this once,” he said in a low, threatening voice. She shivered happily and tossed him a bright, beautiful smile.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Slowly tearing her gaze from hers, she turned to the attendant and asked, “Can I see the dress that matches this, please?”

--

3:22 PM, Friday, the Farkas home.

Sara coughed. The dust up here was incredible. Her mother cleaned the entire house, top to bottom, four times a year. Apparently the attic needed a little more attention than that.

Pulling the box marked “Dress-Up/Costumes” toward her, Sara shook her head at herself. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought as she opened the box. A glint of sequins greeted her, along with the dull gleam of velvet.

She rocked back on her heels, not sure about whether to go forward with it or not. Her mother had convinced her that Leora’s party was a good idea—she needed to get out of the house, spend some time with her friends, blah, blah, blah. Sara felt fine staying at home.

She pulled a jester’s hat out of the box. The bells on the ends jingled happily, ringing in the small confines of the attic. A colorful feathered mask was hanging from one of the bells, muting its sound. She released it and looked carefully at both the hat and the mask. The mask was small enough to fit under the hat, and she began to think that she really might be able to pull this off.

--

Around 8 PM, Saturday, the Elliott home.

Leora was rushing around making sure the final preparations were in place. Drinks were in the kitchen, some snacks on the dining room table, and most of the breakable objects were put away somewhere safe. Most of the rooms upstairs were locked as to discourage from illicit activities.

“Leo,” Mark called from the upstairs bathroom. “Can you come here for a sec?”

Taking the stairs two at a time, she arrived out of breath, dressed in yoga pants and a tank top.

“Does this look crooked to you?” Mark asked, concerned. The mask had gotten a little bent out of shape. But the rest of him looked great. His ensemble included a richly embroidered doublet and trousers that ended right below his knees, baseball-style.

“Well—hmm. Let me…” Leora stood behind him and readjusted the strap holding the mask in place. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, what’d you do?” Mark studied his reflection.

“Made it a bit looser. You look great, Mark. Should have the girls crawling all over you. I’m jealous, actually, now that I think about it.” Leora leaned against him, smiling at him in the mirror.

Mark put an arm around Leora. “Leo, come on, you know there’ll never be anyone but you,” he said softly, smiling down.

“That’s what they all say, silly. Are you going to prove it to me?” she teased.

“Of course. You just have to trust me.”

His watch beeped.

“Oh, God, what time is it?”

“8:30…”

“I have to change—take your watch off, Mark, they didn’t have digital watches in whatever time period you’re from.”

Mark smiled ruefully, shaking his head as he watched his sister walk away to change into her costume.

--

9:01 PM, Saturday, outside the Halsten home.

Xavier shivered. The temperature tended to drop, and his costume wasn’t helping matters. Having chosen to dress as Zorro, his shirt was incredibly thin and the pants weren’t much thicker. The fake sword jabbing into his side wasn’t helping.

But he did look incredible, if he did say so himself. And the pain was worth the beauty.

“Lynn Jordan Halsten, you are going to get your ass out to the car right now!” Xavier shouted in the general direction of the house.

“I told you I’m not going!” Lynn shouted back from her bedroom window.

“Oh, God, Lynn, we both know you want to go, now just get down here already!”

There was no answer save the lights being turned off in her room.

“Whatever…I’m so out of here.” Checking his reflection one more time in the rearview mirror, Xavier took off, tires squealing, into the night—just like Zorro. Or not, actually.

--

9:24 PM, Saturday, outside the Elliott home.

“You okay, honey?” Mr. Farkas asked the girl in the seat next to him.

Sara was wearing a colorful outfit—if the parrot-like feathered mask didn’t get her noticed, the virtual rainbow on her body would. And the bells on the jester’s hat wouldn’t hurt in that respect, either.

“Yeah. Just a little nervous, that’s all.” Sara smiled weakly at her dad.

“Okay, ‘cause, this is your stop,” Mr. Farkas said, gesturing at the house they were idling in front of.

“Oh. Okay. ‘Bye, Dad.” She kissed his cheek and turned to her door handle.

“Sara, don’t be nervous…you’ll have a great time. And if you feel uncomfortable or something…call me, and I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

Sara smiled again, more sincerely this time. “Thanks Dad.”

She set off for the house that was already throbbing, and Mr. Farkas pulled away from the curb. As he drove, he smiled. His little girl was growing up. The same girl who read books every chance she could get was going to her first party. Life was good.

--

10:47 PM, Saturday, the Elliott home.

She slipped in through the unlocked front door. The inside was so crowded with bodies that she doubted she’d be noticed.

Standing in a corner, she was afraid to approach anyone. It wasn’t that she was antisocial—she was just…looked down on by everyone else. She was a pariah, just like Xavier had said. An outcast.

The girl next to her bobbed her head in time to the music, if it could be called music, exactly. It sounded more like a baboon let loose with an electric guitar. The girl was wearing a jester hat, and the bells tinkled in an odd kind of harmony with the bass line.

“You like this?” Lynn gestured to the speaker across from them.

“Oh—” The girl was startled. “Not really, actually, I just like the rhythm. It’s an interesting bass part. Kind of rare, actually?”

Lynn stifled a laugh. “Are you a musician?”

The girl laughed shortly. “No—I read about this rhythm, and its variations, in some music book. I’m a bibliophile, not a musician.”

Lynn smiled. This was definitely her type of girl. “What’s your name?”

“Sara. Sara Farkas.” She tilted her head when she said her name, and the bells tinkled, a sound that Lynn would forever associate with Sara, and that night.

“I’m Lynn Halsten.” They smiled at each other and continued to make small talk, getting more comfortable.

--

11:08, Saturday, the Elliot home.

Xavier pushed his way through the mob, heading toward a relatively quieter part of the house. He froze when he saw his sister talking with another, slightly smaller brunette. From the back, the girl looked kind of cute. He’d had a beer or two, and decided to give it a shot. Then again, the beer didn’t matter—Xavier was good enough for any girl at any time, day or night, drunk or sober.

Heading towards them, he didn’t notice that Lynn blanched when she saw him coming, or that she tried to engage Sara more into not noticing him.

“Excuse me—will you dance with me?” Xavier said with a flourish, directing himself at Sara while ignoring his sister.

Sara looked him up and down. “Uh—no thanks.” The intoxicated boy didn’t notice her obvious disdain, but Lynn picked up on it immediately. She picked up on something else, too, but her more immediate concern was getting her brother away from Sara.

“Uh, Sara, this is my brother Xavier…he’ll be leaving now.” Lynn directed him away from them, and, slightly wounded, he left.

“I’m sorry about that—I think he’s drunk. He’s also way too narcissistic to believe that anyone would actually say no to him. He’ll probably wake up tomorrow with a bad hangover and think you were a bad dream,” Lynn said, anxious to make sure Xavier hadn’t alienated her new friend.

Sara laughed at Lynn’s description of her younger brother. “It’s okay. Boys are gross anyway.”

“I agree. Boys are gross.” I agree with that more than you might know, Lynn thought. And I think that might be the reason I wasn’t actually invited to this party.

“You’re funny. You should be the jester. Say, what are you?” Sara asked interestedly.

“Um—I’m supposed to be a butterfly, but I don’t know if it worked out so well. What do you think?” Lynn turned half-heartedly around in place. Her costume was basically a montage of everything flowery and fluttery she had in her closet. Add a pair of wings made out of aluminum foil and wire—Lynn was a genius at creating things out of kitcen supplies—that were painted funny colors, and Lynn was, if nothing else, a color wheel.

“Well, the wings were a bit of a tip-off,” Sara joked.

They laughed together.

“Look who’s here,” Leora mused from across the room. She was standing by an open window with Mark.

“Hmm?” He said belatedly.

“Lynn Halsten? She’s talking to Sara, my lab partner? Over there?” Leora motioned with her head, not wanting to point for fear of drawing too much attention.

“Yeah? What about her?” Mark wasn’t having the greatest night. The costume was a bit tight, the music was giving him a headache, and Leora wasn’t helping for all that she looked so good in that damned dress.

“She wasn’t invited, that’s what.”

“Oh. Do you care?”

“I can’t very well go and kick her out, can I?”

“Some people would call you close-minded, you know. After all—that is the reason you didn’t invite her, isn’t it?”

“I—I’m just sticking up for what I believe in.”

Mark was disillusioned.

--

12:36 AM, Sunday, the Elliott home.

“Sara,” Lynn spoke-whispered into the girl’s ear. The music had gotten louder as they’d gotten closer to the speaker—the dance floor had morphed into a bubble, absorbing everyone around it.

“I think I’m going to go. Do you want me to drive you home, or will you be okay?” she continued.
In response, Sara nodded, her face expressionless. She’d slowly stopped talking as it got later. Poor girl, Lynn thought, this is probably the first time she’s been out this late.

Taking Sara’s hand, she pushed them towards the door. She’d been in this house before, first when she and Leora were girls and best friends, and later as Leora asked her for help with ninth-grade History. But then it all fell apart.

Lynn stopped as she saw that her brother Xavier and Leora’s brother Mark were chatting near the door. Her heart rose to her throat as Leora sashayed up to Mark and said something to him. Then Leora noticed Lynn, standing there and holding Sara’s hand.

Leora’s eyes glittered, and Lynn knew that they were both remembering the same evening in freshman year when Lynn had first confessed to Leora how she felt. Leora had been shocked—didn’t call Lynn for weeks. When they met in school Leora looked the other way or pretended Lynn just wasn’t there. The few times Lynn tried to talk to Leora, she’d gotten blank eyes and plastic smiles. Then Lynn just stopped trying, reminding herself that the people who minded didn’t matter.

Lynn shook off the memories and surged forward.

“Xavier, I’m leaving—I’m driving Sara home first. Are you sober enough to get home?”

The high-pitched laughter she got in response was answer enough. “Okay, you’re coming with me. See you guys,” she said, addressing herself to mostly Mark, because Leora was pretending that she wasn’t there, and instead was examining the wallpaper.

They exited the house, heading towards one of the many cars that was parked outside the Elliott’s home. Sara got in the passenger side and Xavier conked out in the back.

After asking Sara’s address, Lynn drove efficiently straight to her door. They lived in a small enough town that she knew where most things were, and it turned out that Lynn’s house was only two streets away.

“Well, here you go.” Lynn was at a loss for words. The snores of her brother in the backseat filled the air, and it was only a matter of moments before the two girls started giggling.

“Thank you, Lynn. Thanks for everything. You made my night really special.” Something in Sara’s eyes made Lynn believe her all the more.

“I’ll see you around, Sara,” Lynn said softly, not quite believing herself.

“You’d better,” Sara rebutted joyfully as she climbed out of the car.

“I will,” Lynn murmured, watching her walk up the driveway. “I will.”

A/N: I was told to write a short story with as many kinds of love in it as possible. I think I got about five before the characters took over—hence the rather strange relationships.

I was also asked by a couple people if I was going to continue this. I thought maybe if enough people were interested I would…what do you think? R&R, please—don’t “hit and run.”