Masked Attraction

Chapter 37: Victor

Friday Evening
"My mom is asking if I will go to my father's this year," Bash tells me over the phone.

Sitting on my bed eating some popcorn, I am scribbling out notes on biochem. After last night, Bash woke me up when we pulled up to his house. Jamie and Matt were gone and Britt was asleep as well. I thanked him for driving and then I dragged myself to my house into my bed. After sleeping in, I spent most of the day catching up on errands before Bash called me.

"How do you feel about that?" I ask him tentatively.

"Nothing, I'm done with him," he states void of emotion.

"Bash, I don't think you would be telling me unless if you weren't having second thoughts. You go every year for Thanksgiving weekend it will be hard on both of you if you don't go," I say concerned.

"He doesn't deserve it, Emma," he announces defeated.

"I know, but what about you? Honestly, I think you should go. I think it will make you feel better."

He stays silent.

"I could come with you?" I ask.

"Ugh, why are you always trying to make me a better person?"

"Oh, stop. You already are a good person," I protest.

"Only when you're around," he mutters. My stomach flips and I push the rushing feeling deep deep down.

"So, are we going or what?" I ask switching the topic back.

"Alright, fine let's go. I'll pick you up tomorrow after work."

I agree and hang up the phone.

***

Saturday
As we walk through the door, Bash's dad's face instantly lights up making him look years younger. Victor lives in a tiny apartment complex on the other side of our hometown. The dimly lit living room smells like cigarettes and has never been very well-kept from the times I visited before, but I can tell he attempted to straighten it up to a certain extent tonight.

"Sebastien, my boy!"

He walks over and gives Bash a man shake and hug.

"You get even bigger every time I see you," he says looking him over even though Bash has not grown since senior year of high school. His dad is basically an older version of Bash and Matt. Tall, dark, and handsome with just a slimmer build and wrinkles in the creases around his brown eyes.

Victor turns in my direction. "And you brought Emma! Oh, this day just gets better," Victor says his grin broadening. He comes over and gives the back of my hand a brief kiss.

"Dad!" Bash says rolling his eyes but leans against the banister with his arms loosely crossed.

"He's just jealous he isn't as smooth as me," Victor playfully whispers to me. He then swivels to Sebastien. "One day, I am going to steal your beautiful friend for myself."

"You're being a creep."

"Am not. Isn't that right Emma?" He shoots me an outrageous wink and I giggle used to his teasing.

"You better protect her Bash. You know she's my favorite." Victor gives Bash a stern look.

"Yeah, yeah dad," Bash says but the ends of his lips curve up.

Victor walks over and sits down at the dinner table.

"Would you mind getting the oven, son?"

Bash nods his head and I follow behind him into the kitchen putting down the potato salad I made. His dad cooked some
baked mac and cheese, ham, and cornbread for us. The smell is flowing through the kitchen making my mouth water and stomach grumble. I help Bash prepare them as his father sets plates on the table.

We all sit down and start eating and Bash has a shadow of a genuine smile on his face. His dad has always been very charming and happy when sober. I know Sebastien is always in the best mood when his dad is too.

"Have you two started dating yet?"

My face instantly beats scarlet and Bash just chuckles unfazed.

"No, dad. I have a girlfriend Brittany remember?" He tells him.

"Ahh, I see. Brittany. Hmph." He nods his head. "Very good son. Can't have my attractive genes being wasted."

I stifle my laugh.

"Whatever you say dad. Did you watch the game Thursday?" Bash questions him.

Victor stares blankly at him like he grew a third eye. "Of course, knucklehead. What sort of inane question is that? No one is stopping me from watching the game."

Bash laughs and they continue to talk some kind of sports lingo that I don't understand, but Bash looks happy so I shove some more mac and cheese into my mouth it melting on my tongue. His dad pauses and daps a napkin against his mouth.

"So, how is your mother doing," he says trying to be nonchalant, but his eyes are glancing at Bash expectantly.

Bash's eyes twist in irritation. "Dad come on. Let's not talk about her."

"What? I just want to know if she is doing well," Victor says innocently.

"She is well, dad," Sebastien declares flatly.

"And Carl?" He probes.

"He's fine," Bash grinds out.

"So still in the picture then," Victor mutters and makes a small grunt.

Bash swallows deeply in frustration.

"You know, Bash is the co-president of his fraternity," I muster noticing the conversation headed toward dangerous territory.

"Of course he is. He is so smart just like his mother."

Sebastien slams his cup down so hard the water splashes overtop seeping onto the tiny table.

"Dad just stop it. Leave it alone. She left you! Why do you even care? You always let her get to you like this, just stop!" He shouts angrily.

His dad abruptly stands his chair falling backward with a clatter. He walks away without another word to the kitchen. The rough shuffling of cabinets follows, with each one slamming harder and harder. I fidget with my napkin and Bash holds off for a minute before storming after him leaving me alone at the table. It takes two seconds before they are shouting at each other. The kitchen is steps away so I can hear every word.

"You don't understand! You'll never understand! She is the love of my life!"

"She cheated dad! There is no going back! She's gone and you keep drowning yourself and she doesn't give a shit!"

I cringe not knowing what to do. I decide to make myself semi-useful and start packing and cleaning up the spill Bash made. The screaming suddenly stops and Bash comes back out his face emotionless.

"We're going," Bash tells me straight up and grabs our coats. I nod my head and slip mine on as he hands it to me. He grabs his keys and lightly steers my back out the front door. We get in the front seat and he puts his head against the steering wheel taking a deep breath. I want to cry but I bite my lip hard not letting myself. Sebastien is hurting and that's enough for it to hurt me. He doesn't move and we sit in a moment of silence.

"Would you like me to drive?" I offer. He glances up at me and straightens up.

"No, I'm good." He puts the key in the ignition and starts up the car. He glimpses back over to the house his lips falling into a straight line before briskly pulling out of the street. I quickly look back to see what he saw and catch the light on in his dad's apartment. It shines directly on his father sitting in his chair with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.

***

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