The Layers of His Mask

19. You've Been Sort of Odd

"Remind me why I've been stuck here for the past week?" I ask Tim, laying beside him on his childhood bed, hands clasped over my torso, auburn hair fanned out across his pillow. My eyes float to the ceiling above us.

"You did the naughty with a long time friend of dad's, no longer have an internship, and you refused to take dad's money therefore causing you to be flat ass broke and living at home with your parents all over again... like me," my brother Tim thoroughly explains with a grin. It stings less when he mentions these things versus me actually speaking them aloud to my family. I hadn't mentioned to my family or friends that I had been struggling with my rent and now here I am, stuck with my parents again.

I crank my head slowly his way and smirk at him. "Thank you for that slap of reality." I scoot up, my head flat against the headboard.

"No problem," he returns, elbowing me in the side then looking back down to his phone.

"I just realized our lives really suck right now."

"They do."

Who the hell is he texting anyway?

"So have you and him been sneaking phone calls at night?" he teases.

"Some nights. Most nights he's working... with her. Did you know that b***h cheated on him with his cousin Chase?! I mean...Chase didn't even welcome her advances, but she practically jumped him at her and Alex's engagement party. Like what the f**k? He was like fifteen at the time. She had to be really f****d up in head to be eyeing a fifteen year old while she was pushing thirty."

"Lay off the wine sis." The rim of my glass is already at my lips when he tells me to halt on the liquor.

"Nope," I say, twirling the glass between my fingers. "Tell mom and dad not to stock so much of this s**t then I won't have a reason to drink it."

"Just because it's there doesn't mean you have to touch it."

"Uhhhhhh, yeah, it does. It's practically calling my name." I have another small taste of the burgundy red.

"Alright... And how did you know how old she was exactly?" Ugghhhh, must he question me right now?

"I Googled her," I answer simply, rolling my eyes into my glass. "And I did the math," I mumble onto the rim. "She was twenty-eight at the time, Alex was twenty-seven, and Chase was f*****g fifteen. The w***e," I growl.

"You really need to put down the liquid courage. Alcohol makes you very irritated, but also a lot less filtered." I narrow my eyes at Tim then lap up the last drop of burgundy.

"Does that mean I'm more fun?"

"No," he laughs, "just bitchy...but you are funny."

"I am not bitchy!" I shout, a bubbly laugh falling from lips.

"You can be," he smiles. "Look at how many variations of the word f**k you used in one sitting."

"f**k, f****d, f*****g, fucker, mother f*****g, mother fucker... I would continue to list more," I grunt, lifting myself from the bed, "but unfortunately I need to tinkle."

"Way too much f*****g info," he calls from his bedroom as I partially stumble down the hall to the bathroom. I giggle to myself.

I glance up to my fathers pleading eyes. I'm going to start calling him father for now on. Father, father, yeah I could do with that.

Wiping the smile from my face I reach for the gold door handle. He reaches for my hand at the same time and I retract it. "Please, don't touch me right now," I fire at him, backing myself away to a safe distance.

"How many times am I going to have to apologize? Forgive me, please?"

"How about you just stop, and no," I slur, shaking my head. "I don't want your "I'm sorry" and I don't want to be here, father. You embarrassed me in front of his entire family - you punched Alex. And you practically blew up the fact that him and I were sleeping together to everyone." I throw my arms out at my sides, tears begin brimming in my eyes. f*****g stop tears. "You cost me my graduation, my internship. That means that's money I'm going to have to shove out my ass to pay for the course all over again!"

"I will give you the money Rebecca, if you would just take it!"

"I don't want your f*****g money!"

"What is going on here?" My mom asks, lightly putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing," I reply shortly. My eyes remain burning a hole in my father. "I hope you feel real good about yourself father, because I sure as hell don't."

"Rebecca Ann Daniels, have you been drinking?" my mom questions, turning my body to face her. Her eyes turn to saucers when she picks up the alcohol on my breath and redness to my eyes.

"Maybe," I angrily mutter back. I move away from her touch and shove past him, slamming the bathroom door behind me. I can hear the muffled arguing of my mother and father outside the door. I can't make out any of it, but I know that my dad isn't very happy about what went down just from his tone alone.

I guess this is why they call it liquid courage. I never would have been able to speak those words sober.

Fishing my phone from my grey sweatpants pocket, I dial Violet's number. She's the only one I can think of to talk to who won't give me a bias answer about anything.

"Hello?" she answers. Upbeat, loud music can be heard in the background.

"What are you doing?" I childishly ask, leaning my body on the white painted door.

"I am at Ian's about to play Just Dance with a couple of his friends. Why, what's up?"

I release a breathy exhale. Afterwards I go to the shower and turn it on. With the phone to my ear I'm back at the door, leaning my back to it and slowly sliding down. My backside thumps to the cold tile.

"I can't do this Vi...I'm miserable." my voice starts to crack. "Everyday I have to look at my dad's face, remembering how he ruined not one," I mumble, "but two of my relationships. I have to live in this f*****g house...with no where to go -" I cast my eyes to the ceiling, willing my tears to stop.

"Pause for a minute love," she says, politely interrupting me. "Ian, I'll be right back you guys go ahead." the sound of a door creaking open and clicking shut is heard. "Okay," she breaths, "continue."

"I. Hate. This. Place," I say between sobs. "I feel like the only reason I can even tolerate being here is by drinking." Using the sleeve of my red shirt, I dab the tears from the corner of my eyes.

"I thought you were talking to Alex all week?"

"I lied...we talked the first two nights then my dad came in on the third night to apologize and he caught us. He told Alex not to call me anymore if he values their "friendship" and to respect me enough to, let me go."

"I think your dad has taken it a bit too far."

"You think?! If he had eyes - if he truly loves me like he says he does - he would see how much I care about Alex. He makes me feel like my life is actually worth a damn. He makes me happy, truly happy."

"Awww, Becca.... Do you want me to come and get you? We can get you out that house, do some job searching, maybe something to eat?"

"I guess," I nod.

"Alright well go get you some Aspirin and a snack or something. Put on some clothes and I'll be there in about thirty minutes, okay? "

"Okay." We say our goodbyes and then hang up. A light knock on the bathroom door causes me to jump. "What?!" I yell.

"It's me, Tim. Can you please open the door?"

"Give me a minute," I say, crawling to the bathtub and shutting off the water. I anchor my hands on the countertop, pulling myself up before unlocking the door and answering it.

"Are you okay?" he inquires, hazel green eyes staring into mine.

"I'm fine," I lie, wiping at the sides of my eyes. I open the door fully and step out of it. "Is dad still here?"

"No, he left to the restaurant five minutes ago."

"Good...well Vi is coming to pick me up in about thirty minutes. You coming?"

"I wasn't invited."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. We both need out of this hell hole."

"If you say so. I'll go get ready. Oh, and who's the eldest sibling here again?"

"Me," I smile.

****

My mom is at the counter prepping for tonight's dinner when Tim and I walk through the kitchen. She stares at us both for a few seconds before she actually speaks. "Where are you two going?" she cheerfully asks.

"We're going to hang out with Vi," I say, dropping my dufflebag to the floor and walking to the fridge, pulling from it a jug of filtered water. I pop the three Aspirin that I retrieved from Tim's room, swallowing them.

"With overnight bags?" she asks, turning back to the cutting board to finish the julienned carrots for the chicken soup.

I remember my mom telling me when her and my father first met that she couldn't cook at all, and now look at her. She's learned how to julienne vegetables and how to make chicken stock using the leftover bones from the chicken.

"Yeah, she said it would be okay if we spent the night at her place just so we can get out the house. I'm going to go stir crazy if I don't."

"Technically we're going straight into another house, but that's cool."

Mom laughs. "Well that's good," she says with a genuine smile.

"I've never seen you this cool about things mom," Tim mentions, elbows bent on the island in the middle of the kitchen. His light brown curls fall over his forehead.

Mom drops her knife and swivels back around to face Tim and I, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. "I noticed that about myself recently," my mom says with a smile. "I've learned from you both that I can't control you anymore than your father thinks he can. You are both twenty-three and twenty-seven years old. My job is to raise you and pray that you make the right decisions, not to enable you and shelter you." My mom is saying all the right things to make me feel a little bit better about what I have been shoved into.

"If only you could convince my father of that..." I roll my eyes.

"He'll come around eventually. Right now he's just living in the past and not in the present. I know that Alex is a good guy and so do you. And I also saw the way he was looking at you that night," she smiles. My lips frown and my eyes lower.

I haven't spoken to him in five days on account of my father well, being a father. He doesn't see that I'm old enough to make my own decisions and old enough to be in a responsible relationship.

****

"So, where to you guys? We have Maggiano's, Slice of Pie, Chick-fil-A, Cheesecake Factory." Paramore is faintly playing in the background while we try and decide on a place for lunch.

"I don't have any money for any of those places Vi."

"I got you sis," Tim offers.

"Thanks bro. Well if he's paying I could go for some Benihana."

"You okay with Benihana Tim?" Vi asks him.

"Yeah, Benihana is fine. It's always cool to see them sling around knives and do tricks and stuff. Oh and when they do that thing with the onion volcano... so cool." I chuckle to myself and roll my eyes.

"Tim is a bit obsessed with fire, always has been. Remember that time when we were younger he was burning a roach with a lighter outside on fourth of July?" I laugh.

"Yes," she squeals, laughing breathlessly. "Your mom had to take the lighter away from him because she feared he would turn into a pyro."

"Yeah, and I covered for him by saying he was protecting me from it." Tim's high pitched laughter rings from the back seat. His laugh causes a snowball effect. Vi and I join in on his laughter.

"Tim you have always been sort of odd," Vi jokingly points out.

"Yeah, but you always were there with me Vi. I didn't burn that roach alone. You left out the part where you ran away," he smirks.

Vi puts the car in park then stares at Tim through the rear view mirror, a devilish smirk on her face.

"Can you two stop flirting in front of me? It's weird..." I ask of them.

"We're not flirting," they simultaneously dismiss all too quickly.

"Yes you are," I nod. "It's weird...stop."

***

Flames shoot up from the hibachi grill, eliciting gasps and squeals of excitement from the crowd. The looks of pure joy on Tim and Vi's faces are one of pure weirdness, and cuteness. Vi grabs on to his arm, pointing at the slowly decreasing waves of fire.

The chef does a sort of dance with his clever and turner spatula: tapping, banging, and flipping them on the grill surface.

Our steak sizzles on the grill top. He slices through the flank steak diagonally then slides them onto their waiting plates along with the fried rice I specifically requested to include no shrimp. I can't afford to have another breakout in here.

The chef cleans the flat top grill, hands up our plates then departs. Vi and Tim are too busy chatting, exchanging pictures, eating. I've barely taken a bite. I truly feel like a third wheel, like I am ruining their date. This sucks.

If Alex and I weren't stuck at an intermission I would have suggested he come along too so that I don't feel so crappy right now. But then again, if we weren't, I wouldn't be stuck in this damn situation to begin with.

Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I try and text Alex again. Can we just talk? I'm going crazy and I really need you right now. Whatever my dad said to you that day, please just ignore it. He knows nothing of our relationship and probably never will. I lov -, I type out the beginnings of I love you but decide against it and just hit send.

What was I thinking? Is it even possible to fall for someone in two and a half months? I know that Tim and his ex-wife had been dating for only a month before he went out and married her. I suppose people fall in love at different stages of relationships.

"Isn't that right Becca?" Vi asks.

"Huh?" I glance in the direction of Vi's voice.

"I said don't you think Tim should cut his hair. Even though his curls are to die for, I want to see him with something low cut. I figured if he did it would be like he's saying out with the old and in with the new you know?" she smiles and weaves a hand through his brown curls. Tim shakes his hair out and then pushes the fallen curls away from his forehead.

Now that she's mentioned it, a low cut style would look good on him. And when his forehead was clear of the beautiful curls that I am extremely jealous of, I see a glimpse of a potential haircut. So it appears that Vi is right.

"Yeah..." I nod, "I could see him with a low cut. We should take him to Hannah and let her work her magic on it."

"Yes, that's perfect!" She grins and shoves her empty plate aside.

"I'm trusting you two on this. If I end up hating it I'm turning it into a bet and then one of you is shaving your heads bald." The seriousness to his voice scares me.

"It won't be me," I say, clutching a fist full of hair. "I love my hair too much."

"I'd go bald, I wouldn't mind," Vi shrugs with a closed mouth grin. "I could donate it all to Locks Of Love."

Tim smiles and stares deep into her eyes. "That's very admirable of you. You were always the charitable, advantageous type." he's looking at her in a way I have seen Alex look at me before.

Thinking back on our childhood, Vi has always had a crush on Tim - still does. She'd always tell me "I love his personality Becca, I mean come on, what girl wouldn't? It's too bad he has a girlfriend." Even when she had a boyfriend her fascination with him never went away. She would appear partially hurt when he brung a new girlfriend around the family, but she'd try and cover it up with a smile.

Tim was the same way too. With all of her boyfriends he would find something not likeable about each and everyone one of them. Their hair, their personality, the size of their ears, too many tattoos. It was an endless list and he could never be satisfied with just being her friend. In the end they both wanted more, and still do apparently.

They do look adorably cute together, I'll give them that. But Vi also has Ian. If she's going to start anything with my brother she needs to cut ties with Ian first. I don't want him dragged into any crazy love triangle s**t.

"No use in letting my hair go to waste. Why not donate it to someone who needs it?"

"You have a point. What the hell, let's do it," Tim says eagerly.

****

"I have an idea in mind for you Tim," Hannah mentions, rubbing one hand on her chin. The other is running through his curls.

"I hope it's not s*x," he says, chuckling.

Hannah smiles and says, "No, unfortunately that's someone else's fantasy."

"Whoa, and who might that be? Do I know her?" Tim asks.

"My lips are sealed," she says, zipping her mouth closed. Vi and I exchange silent giggles.

Hannah escorts Tim to the shampoo bowl, washing and conditioning his hair before bringing him back to her client chair. She places a cutting cape around his neck then pulls out blue hair clipper. She begins at the top, leaving more if it than on the sides. Ringlets of his curls float to the ground and he already looks like a different person even though we aren't seeing the finished product.

She shuts off the clippers, laying them on the top of her station. She then blow dries his damp hair and then uses her fingers and a comb to lay his hair the way she envisions it. When she's finally finished she grins and swivels his chair around to face the mirror.

"What do you think?" she asks, one hand on her hip, the other on the back of his seat.

Tim is speechless and for five minutes he says nothing, he's just bent over in front of the mirror, running his hands over his hair. "I - I... It's different, but it's a good different. Thank you Hannah," he says, hugging her tightly.

He saunters over to the chairs that Vi and I are occupying and picks Vi up from her chair, wrapping his arms around her. Vi is taken aback - eyes wide. She doesn't register that his arms are really around her and so when it does sink in she closes her eyes, smiles, and embraces him.

"Thank you," he whispers to her.

"You're welcome," she mumbles.

"Well shit...Ian who?" Hannah teases, sweeping the hair from around her station. I snort and pull my phone from my pocket.

The chime, accompanied by door opening stops our laughter. A woman with raven hair, sunglasses, and a beige Trench coat comes walking through, specifically requesting Hannah. She tells the woman to have a seat and when she removes her glasses I recognize this woman.

Laura...