The Masks We Wear

CHAPTER 3

*Trigger Warning: Profanity*
(12:15 a.m.)

          Tyrone sat in his room scrolling through his phone, his dark face illuminated by the glow of the text bubbles on his screen.
"Bro u should go for it"
Tyrone blushed for a second.
"Nah"
"Dude just talk to her"
          Liam was being pushier than usual. The two had been talking about Evie for a while now, and Liam grew tired of the same conversation.
"What would I even say tho lmao"
"Just say 'can I take u to hoco'. I did this last year, u dont need a fancy sign and shit like that"
          Tyrone felt anxiety slush in his stomach like water in a rapid river. He'd had a crush on her for the longest time, but they'd been friends for longer. The question he had had forever nagged once more: Should he?
          Just then, he saw Evie's instagram icon change. A green circle had appeared in the corner. She was still awake. Tyrone went back to his texts and typed quickly to his friend.
"Imma do it"
"Bet"
          Tyrone closed his phone. His hands shook so hard he almost dropped it. He pushed his dirty blond curls away from his face and went to his closet. He threw on the nearest T-Shirt and jeans, laced up his sneakers, and walked to his bathroom.
          His eyes sparkled for a split-second in the light, a dazzling crystal blue. He checked himself over twice in the full-length mirror before walking down the beige hall, through the dimly-lit living room, and out of the front door onto the porch. His parents might have heard, but he didnt care. Bigger fish to fry. He leapt into his hand-me-down car and was on the road in two minutes, before his mom could realize he was gone.

~*~*~*~

          The drive was cold and long, but it didn't bother him. He parked on the street and got out of the car to walk up the pathway. He took his phone out of his jeans pocket. The familiar screen-light had just flickered on, when a scream came from inside of the house.
          Then... silence. Tyrone waited for a moment, almost in disbelief, waiting for another noise. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. A muffled thud came from inside. Panic. Tyrone raced to the door and jiggled the handle. Nothing. His head spun as he struggled to remember where the spare key was hidden. His fingers remembered before he could, digging through the topsoil of the fake porch plant until they hit metal. He burst through the door only to see the back door slam on the other side of the hallway. Tyrone sprinted through the hall, grabbing a vase off of the accent table and emptying it along the way. He ran onto the back porch, but it was too late. The fence had been jumped, and all that could be heard was crunches receding into the forest. Tyrone stood in a state of frenzied helplessness, looking around for anything that could be useful, but he found nothing. He reached into his back pocket, defeated and frightened, and opened his phone. The police were on their way within minutes.