Chapter 1

When the campus beauty, Janelle Muller, ripped off my mask in front of everyone to humiliate me, Frank Willard, who was usually so laid-back, went cold for once. He slapped Janelle, then pulled me into his arms, shielding my scarred face.

"Every scar on Eva's face," he said, "came from her carrying me out of that fire. She saved my life. If you touch her, I'll make you pay."

Like every time before, he stood in front of me, blocking out those stares.

But on my eighteenth birthday, I saw him pin Janelle against the wall.

"You haven't touched Eva all these years. What, can't bring yourself to kiss a girlfriend that ugly?" Janelle asked.

Frank curled his lips, tilting her chin up. "You're absolutely right. Now let me give you a kiss. Be good."

The umbrella slipped from my hand and hit the ground.

I called my dad. "Dad, schedule the reconstructive surgery in Viranland as soon as possible."

*****

Janelle said, "Frank, you really are something. You managed to get that freak to take off her mask, letting everyone see how ugly she really is.

"I suppose I'll graciously forgive you for slapping me the other day."

Janelle laughed sweetly, wrapping her arms around Frank's neck.

Today was my eighteenth birthday party, and Frank had promised he'd finally make our relationship official in front of everyone.

But just now, he was nowhere to be found, so I went out to look for him.

Frank paused for a moment, then said, "Janelle, if you call her a freak again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Janelle laughed, "Dang, you're guarding her like she's some treasure, huh? Tell me, after seven years together, have you two ever kissed, even once?"

My heart skipped a beat.

Frank and I had never kissed. We hadn't even snapped a single picture together after we turned ten.

"I'm guessing you haven't," Janelle said, her voice getting closer, like she was right next to Frank. "Is it because her scars are so nasty you can't stomach kissing her?"

"Shut up," Frank snapped.

"Am I right?" Janelle's voice went soft, almost seductive. "Frank, admit it. No one could fall for a face like hers."

I held my breath, waiting for Frank's answer.

I expected him to fire back, defend me, and say, just like always, that I was the one he cared about.

But instead, I heard Frank's low chuckle.

Then came Janelle's startled gasp, and the shuffle of clothes.

"You're right about everything," Frank said, his voice low and husky, with a flirtatious tone I'd never heard from him before. "Come here, let me give you a kiss. Be good."

The scars on my face, ones that hadn't ached in so long, suddenly flared up, burning hot.

I pressed my hands to my face, and a sudden gust of wind swept my umbrella right out of my grasp.

I didn't have time to chase after it. Rain poured down on me as I ran back, soaked to the bone.

Janelle fell for Frank the moment she saw him during our freshman military training.

She chased after him relentlessly, but Frank never spared her a glance.

That was until she found out the one Frank kept closest to his heart was me, a disfigured freak.

To get Frank's attention, she never stopped insulting and mocking me.

And she did get his attention, because every single time, Frank would step in front of me to protect me.

I ran back into the venue of the party, drenched from head to toe.

Whispers started up all around me.

"Why isn't she wearing her mask today? Her face is freaky as hell."

"Frank stuck with her out of guilt. Is he really planning to pay her back for the rest of his life because of some childhood favor?"

"Honestly, Frank and Janelle look like a total power couple, like those love-hate pairs one see in movies."

The whispers were crushing me. I buried my face in my hands and crouched down on the floor.

Yesterday, Frank's eyes looked especially deep and intense under the desk lamp.

He said, "Your birthday's coming up in a few days. I want to throw you a party. I'll invite some friends and finally introduce you as my girlfriend. Don't wear your mask. Just wear the prettiest dress you designed."

"Frank, I..." I hesitated.

"Promise me," he insisted. "Treat it as a birthday gift for me. Let me prove to you I don't care about your scars, or what anyone else thinks. All I care about is you."

His eyes looked so honest. For a moment, I almost let myself believe him.

Suddenly, I felt a warm jacket draped over my shoulders.

I looked up and saw Frank crouching in front of me. He gently wiped away my tears with his thumb. "Hey, little crybaby, why are you crying again?"