CHAPTER 23- Hide and Seek

Belle's POV

What just happened? Ariel was right. Adam did have feelings for me, and I could see the proof in his eyes. How was I supposed to handle this? How could I tell Adam that I didn't have the same feelings for him that it seemed he had for me? My thoughts kept going to my mysterious hero. If he didn't reciprocate the feelings I had for him, I knew I would feel crushed. So how could I do this to Adam?

"I'll just avoid the topic altogether!" I told myself sternly in the bathroom mirror with a dignified nod. After I undressed, washed my face, and put my nightgown on, I returned to the mirror once more to brush out my hair. The soft brown waves hung below my shoulders, just covering my breast. I realized how much hair had grown since the summer. I combed my fingers through my hair as I fantasized about my tavern hero.

I realized that I didn't even know what he looked like. Did he have a short conservative cut? Or did he have a casual look about him, like Eric? Or did he wear it in a handsome ponytail like Gaston? Or perhaps he had it wild and loose, the way Adam could pull it off. Adam had the most handsome…wait! Why were my thoughts drifting off in admiration to Adam again?

Since my start at the Parthenon, I found myself fantasizing about my tavern hero one minute, then Adam the next. But I was clear to myself, wasn't I? It was the tavern hero whom I adored and longed for, and no one else!

"No one else!" I exclaimed to myself one last time in the mirror as I set the brush firmly at the side of the sink.

Climbing into bed, I knew I would have to do my utmost to deflect any advances from Adam tomorrow. I can do this. And it was only fair to be honest to Adam. He had become very honest with me, and I treasured our friendship too much to spoil anything in it. Not now, not after we had come such a long way.

ADAM'S POV

I woke up on the floor. How did I get here? The last thing I remembered was crashing on the bed in pure exhaustion. The taste of whiskey was still in my mouth. My head was pounding, and I hissed as I cupped my forehead in agony. I looked around. I couldn't find the bottle of whiskey anywhere, but the shattered shot glass lay in a million pieces on the floor against the furthest wall. I looked up at the ceiling, grunting as I managed to get up, holding my head in agony, trying to suppress the pain. I was still wearing my dress pants from the night before, but Ibut I was in my undershirt.

Suddenly I realized there was knocking at the door, along with the muffled cries of someone who sounded like they were panicking. The knocking was loud and insistent, as if itif it had been going on persistently for a while. I wondered how long the person had been out there knocking.

As I reached for the handle, I looked through the peephole and saw Belle. Of course. Our project!

I took my hand off the handle and bolted, rushing to my desk to see the time. I clumsily searched for my pocket watch, sweeping papers and objects from my desk, creating a whirlwind of chaos, which didn't makedidn't make it any easier to find the thing! I suddenly noticed how dizzy I was feeling. How much exactly did I drink? Finally I found my pocket watch under my sonnet book. I squinted, trying to make out the time, which looked blurrylooked blurry thanks to my very well apparent "drunk as fuck" self. My pocket watch indicated 1:00 pm. I sighed. We had never specified a time to meet up, but I knew this was pretty late.

Great! This is not going to sit well with Belle.

"Adam! I know you're in there…I just heard some shuffling," she bellowed from behind the door.

I groaned, louder than I had intended to.

"I heard that! Is everything okay?" Belle asked worriedly.

I marched over and opened the door about an inch, just enough so she could see me...just a little bit of me. "Now is not a good time, Belle," I stated firmly. I was trying to talk through the pain, but at this moment it was becoming harder and harder to bear. The deafening ringing I had heard when my mother died was back in my ears. Any time I was inebriated, I'd hear that damned ringing!

"I can see that," she said softly. Her gaze was piercing and I thought I heard her gasp, but being inebriated and seeing fuzzy as I was, I couldn't be certain. Belle continued, "I just got worried when you didn't come down at all today. Especially when we had planned-"

"Yeah, well, you don't need to worry about me," I grunted, cutting her off. She frowned, but I could see the familiar compassionate look Belle was known for in her hazel eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked firmly.

I closed my eyes. I knew she was concerned and she needed an answer.

"I'm just not feeling well. I'm sorry, Belle. I must have gotten ill after last night." I hated lying to her, but I had no other choice. "I'm sorry I didn't send anyone to notify you of my current condition. I guess I was too sick to have the energy to get up or anything."

"It's Okay,AdamOkay, Adam, I understand. Look, I'll be around if you feel up to working on the project later, but don't strain yourself. We're way ahead of schedule anyway. Just focus on getting better."

"Thanks, Belle," I said sheepishly as I scratched my eyebrow. It occurred to me we were still talking through the little crack of the door. Relieved she couldn't see the disastrous status of my room and that she had bought my lie of not feeling well, I nodded and started to close the door.

"Adam, wait! Is there anything I could get for you?"

I was touched. I wasn't use to this amount of concern, having never been on the other side. "No Belle. Thanks, though. I'm going to go and—"

"Yes, of course. Go rest now," she said as she vacated the hallway back down the stairs.

I retreated back to my sanctuary, pleased that I had just saved face from Belle, and decided to sleep off the rest of the day.