Behind The Mask

Thirteen

My body's trembling, my hands are clammy, and my heart is pounding against my ribcage. But I know what I have to do.

Before reaching in front of me to twist the doorknob to my house, I reach behind me and grab Dallas' hand. Amazingly, he holds it tight instead of letting go to wipe the sweat on his jeans.

Aunt Bea gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze and I take a deep breath. 'Well,' I tell myself, 'it's now or never.'

Seconds later, the door is open and I'm inside with two people I love behind me and two people I used to call family in front of me. When I realize that my father has a suitcase in his hand and my mom has a hand reaching out to him, I have to hold back a scream.

I pull Aunt Bea and Dallas inside, slam the door, and turn to my father. "Sit your ass down." I growl.

He almost argues, but I glare at him harder. So he drops the suitcase and slams his butt onto the couch. My mother follows suit, tentatively sitting right next to him and attempting to slide her hand over his. He sneers, yanks his hand away, and childishly scoots away from his wife. Before her disappointment can take over her already weary face, I rip my hand away from Dallas (suddenly, I don't need the comfort) and stomp over to the man who has become a stranger to me. "Strike one, you bastard." I snarl.

From then on, for almost an hour, I'm screaming and throwing things (like the closest china lamp). I end up spitting on my dad. When he jumps up and slaps me hard across the face, I'm too dizzy to see my Aunt come over and push him back down while she holds Dallas back. I hear her tell Dallas to give it up and see if I'm okay. But when he comes over to me, I don't fall into his arms. Instead, I lunge for my father. Luckily (for me or for him I couldn't be sure), Bea pins my arms behind me, but I still manage to get in his face. I'm spitting and inhuman sounds are rising from my throat, but I manage to scream, "I HATE you! Get the hell out of my life! Go leave on one of your damn business trips and don't bother coming back! I'm having your wife file for divorce, and if you even think about ignoring the papers, I'll hunt you down, you-"

The rest of my sentence is lost when I suddenly collapse. Dallas falls to his knees behind me and wraps me gently in his arms. Some part of me manages to be surprised that he hasn't run away yet; the rest of my mind is focused on forcing myself to not pass out. Dimly, I hear my father throw himself off the couch; snatch his suitcase from the floor, and leave. He slams the door behind him. I hadn't known how much I had wanted to hear that sound. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to do this. And now that it's over, I can barely hold myself together.

After the sound of his car racing away fades, the room is silent expect for my haggard breathing and my mother's sniffling. Dallas presses his cheek next to mine and I breathe in the smell of his cologne.

A sudden gasp of words rips me out of my comforting trance.

"Oh God..."

I look up at my mom. Aunt Bea has her arms around her shoulders, but she doesn't notice. My mom- who used to be so strong- is rocking back and forth, eyes closed and tears on her cheeks.

"You haven't been acting much better than him, Mom." I find myself saying, "You've let him walk all over you. You weren't always this way. You left me to deal with life all on my own while you retreated into your own little world of constant colors and paintbrushes. I've been so alone. You weren't there for me when I needed you. You haven't been for years. Not even when-" I have to swallow hard, even now, before I say his name "-Jason died. Not even then..."

Now the whole world seems silent. I wait anxiously for her answer, not even completely expecting one.

"I'm sorry." is all she says.

Then my aunt speaks up. "You two go do something. I'll stay here and sort things out. Gwen, ask your friend to keep Max until tomorrow morning. We'll pay her extra. Oh, and it's okay if you guys get a hotel or something if you don't want to come home. I trust you two." Then, she tosses me her credit card and smiles lightly.

I take that as my signal to leave. I stuff the card in my back pocket and slip my hand into Dallas' before leading him to his car. He opens my door (who says chivalry is dead?) and I curl up in the passenger seat, suddenly shivering and numb. Dallas starts the car and then looks over at me.

"Sweetheart, you've got to buckle up."

I can't move. Can't look at him. Can't think. I won't. I'm scared of what I'll see in his eyes. I'm scared that I've lost the only male that I love in this world.

Dallas carefully reaches over me and clips my seatbelt in place. I still don't move.

The purr of the car engine soothes me. I start to relax. But I still can't bring myself to look at my boyfriend. What is he thinking of me now? I just cussed out my dad and forced him out of my house. No normal teenage girl does that!

When the car stops, I tense up again. Dallas turns off the engine, comes over to my side, and opens the door. I catch a comforting whiff of his scent when he unbuckles me. Then, when he picks me up bridal style, my heart starts pumping faster and harder. What the hell is he doing?

He carries me for a good five minutes before setting me down on... grass? Just where are we?

I look up and around me. Just as I figure out that we're in a park, I look straight into Dallas' eyes. Every part of my brain warns me to look away or close my eyes so I won't get hurt, but my heart won't let me.

I see nothing but love in his eyes. No confusion, fear, amusement... not even sympathy. Just love.

My eyes widen when he leans in. I lean back until my head hits the ground, and then I manage to turn my head to the side. I have to squeeze my eyes closed because I'm feeling dizzy. What's going on? How can he look at me like this after everything that's happened?

His body rests very gently on mine while his lips move to my ear. "You've been so brave, Beauty Queen. But you don't have to be brave for me. It's over. Let me be the strong one. I'm here for you. I love you. I'm so proud of you for standing up for yourself. And I'll never, ever let you go."

Then, Dallas kisses me, just to the left of my mouth. He's so gentle and tender in his actions, and I know that his words are completely sincere. Any other day I would've kissed him and never stopped, but after everything I've already been through today, I can't handle this. So I just start crying.

He pulls me into his arms and runs his fingers through my hair to push it out of my eyes. I sob into his chest until his shirt is soaked and then I push my face into his shoulder, breathing the comforting smell of his cologne in deep. Dallas squeezes me tight- but not too tight- and then, once my shuddering slows, he picks me up bridal style again. I have a death grip on his shoulder until he whispers, "Sweetheart, relax. I've got you."

How could I not trust that beautiful voice, or those gorgeous eyes?

•••

He takes me to a hotel, and, even though it's only 2 in the afternoon, I'm practically dead on my feet. We lock the door behind us and he carries me to the king-sized bed. A chill runs down my spine when he curls up next to me. I twist his shirt in my fingers and bury my blotchy face in his chest, trying not to let my thoughts wander to how gorgeous he looks and feels, because I know this isn't the best time. Time slows. Dallas runs his fingers through my hair, over my cheeks, and down my back until I fall asleep. And, for a while, I'm perfectly okay.

-Alyssa <3