“How long were you trapped in that room, anyways?”
I couldn’t read her face. She shifted in her seat and answered, “I wasn’t. Once I overheard that conversation, I tried the door and it wasn’t locked anymore. When I told the janitor, he said I must have been confused. That door doesn’t have a lock. It never did.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I looked at the three masks I wore and realized something — they were all monsters of my own making. I did this. Nobody else. It was my choice. And I had chosen wrong. —Gabe H.
Gabe
“You ready?” Wes asked for the tenth time.
“Just do it already,” I grumbled leaning my head into the shower as he started rinsing the black out.
“So this is a fun bonding experience.” Wes laughed and started whistling.
“Please don’t whistle,” I grumbled. “Do anything but whistle.”
Wes started to hum one of the songs from my first albums.
“Freaking hilarious.”
“I thought so.” He continued humming.
“Just—” I tensed my hands against my knees as I leaned farther in. The black swirled into the drain as if my sins were getting washed out right along with my hair. “Just don’t do anything.”
“Gabe…” Wes dunked my head farther under the warm water. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”
“It’s true.”
“How do we know this doesn’t backfire and shoot me in the ass?”
“We don’t.”
“Imagine, there was once a time I thought you should be a therapist. Do you want me to kill myself?”
Wes laughed, pissing me off more. “Sorry, man, but think of it this way. The worst has happened and you’re still alive.”
“I—”
Holy hell he was right. The worst had happened. My dad knew where Lisa and I were. He was going to expose us. He knew about Kimmy, and Saylor hated me. My life was over, but I was alive.
“I can literally hear your brain frying right now.”
“Shut up.”
Wes turned off the water and threw a towel over my head, using a little bit too much aggression as he did so. The ass.
When I turned around he brandished a pair of scissors in his hand and a smile I can only describe as way too eager.
“No.” I shook my head. “Hell, no.”
“Oh, come on.” He held the scissors up in the air and snipped. “Go big or go home.”
“No.”
“Afraid?” He tilted his head.