Behind the Mask

Peter shook his head with another cough. "I don't think so."

"But how do you know?" I challenged him. "How do you know that guy wasn't with those crazy delinquents that are trying to get revenge?"

"Because, he was probably just mistaken. There were fourteen people in that building, they must have miscounted them all." He gently shoved me away so he could rise from the chair and find a bottle of water.

I had so many comments to throw at that, but I didn't know where to start. It came out in a bunch of splutters, and I sounded like a beat-up car trying to start.

"Hey, calm down." His voice was taking on a scratchy tone, due to the smoke inhalation. "I'm fine."

I folded my arms over my chest, pumping with frustration. "One of these days, you won't be. Especially if you keep running around thinking everything is dandy and no one is trying to kill you."

Peter almost choked on his sip of water. "You think I don't know that?"

"You told me the other day that you don't care what people think."

"Yeah, I don't. That doesn't mean I don't know they're out there."

I hated how his snarky replies were always so good. The only other person that could do that to me was my mother. "Start acting like it, then."

"Where are you going?" Peter asked when I started for the door.

I paused, noticing that this was the first time I was leaving Peter because I was frustrated with myself for caring too much. "Home." I said softly.

Without turning around, I heard him sigh heavily and set down his water. "I'll be more careful, okay?" He waited for an answer, but I didn't respond. "Just for you."

He said those three words in his scratchy voice and I could barely contain my emotions. How could I feel that way after knowing him for four days? "Thanks." I left before he could sense something weird.

I opened the door to the apartment and immediately smelled the beer. I seemed to have grown accustomed to smelling it, especially with Chase around.

"There you are, Ms. Appear." Chase snickered, digging for another bottle in the fridge. He saw the concern all over my face. "Don't worry, this is only my second."

"And your last." I warned him. He blew me off, as usual. I didn't remember buying any beer in the first place. "Where did you get that?"

Chase rolled his eyes obnoxiously. "The Beer Fairy." I assumed he bought it himself. "Help yourself, the Rangers are playing the Devils, and I don't have to work until after lunch tomorrow."

I glanced at the television. That was another of the very few things Chase and I had in common ; we were die-hard hockey fans. I used to watch the games all the time with Greg...this was the first I'd seen of my Rangers since.

The sudden heart wrench altered my opinion of the beer. I snagged one from the bottom drawer and popped the cap. I didn't like drinking beer much, but it worked just the same as anything else. I found a seat on the sofa next to Chase.

He grinned at me. "That's my girl."

. . . . . . . .

I woke up the next day in my bed, frozen with a fear I'd never known before.

I could already feel the bareness of my body against the sheets. I felt it without even moving. I stared in horror at Chase's back, facing me from across the bed. My heart would beat so fast that it didn't even have time to make a motion out of my chest.

I moved my fingers first. They were curled up in my chest. I felt the fabric of my bra, and my bra alone. It allowed a bit of relief to flow through me, but not much. I was lying in bed wearing only my bra and underwear after a drunken night I barely remembered. I wasn't out of the woods yet.

I knew I would never agree to sleep with Chase while sober, but I didn't know what I was like while I was drunk. One beer turned into three. It didn't take much for my fragile body to succumb to the alcohol.

Chase stirred in his sleep, almost as if he sensed I was awake. He turned to face me, and I stayed in my frozen state. He opened his eyes, slowly and carefully, noticing the fright in mine. "What?" He mumbled.

I had to call up enough bravery to answer. "What happened?" I asked in a small and controlled voice.

It appeared that he'd gotten slapped in the face with the memory, and he coated his face with his hands in a soft groan.

"I asked you a question." I reminded him in the same voice. "What happened last night?" He looked over to me again, his eyes trailing down to my chest. I covered myself sensitively with the sheets. "Answer me, damn it!" I nearly growled at him.

"Nothing!" He gave in to my aggression. "Nothing happened."

"You're lying." I suspected, watching the regret grow in his face. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." He insisted. "Nothing happened, I promise."

"Then why the hell am I almost naked?"

"Because," He looked uncomfortable, caught in the filthy lie. "You wanted to...it was your idea, but I stopped you after you stripped down. I knew you were drunk, way worse than me. You were pissed and passed out right after, that's all."

I tried recalling the information, but I couldn't. Something else was telling me that he wasn't lying after all. I still didn't care. I closed my eyes and cuddled myself close, praying that the tears would hold off until I was alone.

I whispered it first. "Get out."

Chase waited for it to sink in. "What?"

"Get out!" I screamed now, and the sudden loud volume caused him to jump.

"Why are you mad at me? I stopped you before you tried to --"

"Chase, you better get the hell out of my apartment or so help me I will --"

"I don't see why I'm the bad guy here!"

I sat up in the bed, holding the sheets to my chest as protection. "You did this to me! I was never like this, I was never so drunk in my entire life that I couldn't control my own actions! This is all your fault, so get out of my life!"

He rolled out of the bed, wearing a pair of shorts. "What will you do, huh? What will you do when I'm gone? Give yourself away to some other loser?"

"I'd give myself to anyone but you."

He laughed humorlessly. "Okay. You know, the only reason I stayed with you is because I felt bad you lost your brother that way, but now I see what you really are."

"And what's that?" I shouted, certain that any of my neighbors could hear.

He grabbed his backpack and threw on his t-shirt. "You're just a hopeless little schoolgirl lost in the big city without her big brother here to protect her, and you try to act tough and scary, but you're not. You're too afraid of the world and of yourself. You're a coward."

The tears arrived just on schedule. "Get the hell out of here."

"Gladly." He spun on his heels and headed for the door with the impression that he was the one that ended the relationship. "You need to grow up, Liv. Greg isn't going to save you anymore."

I became so enfuriated that clutched the sheet around my body and raced after him. I caught the door with my foot and stood halfway in the hallway. "You are the nastiest, most terrible person I have ever met! I hope I never see you again! I hate you!" The screaming and crying drowned out most of it, but I knew he got the picture. He never looked back.

It took me a few seconds to realize I was exposed in the hallway. I almost didn't care, but I assumed someone might call the police if they saw me. I watched at the end of the hall as the elevator opened for Chase. Someone stepped off as he stepped on. The doors closed, and I watched helplessly as Peter approached me.

His head was down, verifying that my camera was as good as new like he promised. He rose his head and stopped a distance away, viewing my situation from afar. "Your camera." He said hesitantly.

I held the sheet with one arm and shakily reached for the camera with the other. "Thank you, Peter."

He made sure to keep his eyes elevated. "Is everything okay?"

I brush my hair back and away from my face with a sigh. "Yes. Now, everything is okay."

He noticed me watching the elevators. He looked back himself at the closed doors. "Did he do something to you?"

"It doesn't matter." I told him.

He wouln't buy it. "Olivia --"

"No, really." I felt somehow at peace with myself, even though I'd been insulted and humiliated by the fool that had just walked out. "I just need some time alone. I have to throw all of his things out the window."

Peter tried to smile, but I could see his mind working up a story that never happened to me.

"Thank you, though." I redirected the focus to my camera. "It's perfect. How much do I owe you?"

Peter made a zero with his fingers.

"No, I have to give you something for this." I peeked inside the apartment to see if I had spare change sitting on the desk near the door.

"I don't want any money." He said. "You can repay me some other way."

"Like how?"

He pulled a photo out of his back pocket. I nearly cringed at the candid of me from the day before. "Oh, God, no."

"Let me use this for the uncommonly beautiful assignment." I would think he enjoyed making me crazy.

"I'd rather pay!" I was actually smiling, regardless of my half-nudity and low self esteem.

"Fine." Peter slipped the photo back in his pocket. "Then you owe me about four billion dollars."

I dropped my eyebrows and gave him a look, the sort of look my mother gave me when she knew I was being mischevious. "Really?"

"Really."

I pursed my lips, torn between two overpowering thoughts. One was how I was going to survive photography the next day with Peter and that photo. The second surprised me ; would he ever stop making me like him so much?

"You're sure you're okay?" Peter asked one more time.

I nodded, slowly coming back down to earth and becoming conscious of myself. I stepped backwards into my apartment and held the door knob in my clammy palms. "I will be."