Behind The Mask

Ch. 3

Blake's P.O.V

We finished our research for the abuse and child labor part of our project. We haven't even started researching orphans, and I don't really want to. It is just to hard to bare. I know Olivia can see me shift tensely.

"Are you okay? You seem....uncomfortable." She asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I uh, was just thinking." I rush the words too quick. She knows something is up.

"Are you sure? Did I do someth..." I cut her off before she can even finish.

"I said I'm fine!" I immediately feel guilty. She is taken aback from my loud voice. Her beautiful eyes go wide.

Did I just say... Beautiful?

There is no time for this. "Gosh, I'm sorry Olivia. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm really sorry."

"It's fine. I shouldn't have persisted on you telling me what you were thinking. I should be the one saying sorry." I can see the guilt in her eyes. Why is it so easy for me to read her feelings?

"No, really, it's okay. I snapped because...because I, um..." I was at a literal loss for words.

"It's okay Blake. You don't need to tell me anything." She reaches over and touches my hand with hers. She hesitates at first but doesn't pull back. I feel my skin go on fire and I know for a fact that I am blushing. I look into her eyes and see dead seriousness.

As if she was reading my mind she says, "I am serious."

I laugh because I know she is trying really hard not to laugh from her failed seriousness. In the end, she gives in and laughs with me. We are both laughing hysterically.

We are interupted by a janitor walking in the room.

"Sorry to interupt, but i need to clean this classroom. Would you mind finding a new place to work. Sorry again for the inconvenience."

"No problem, sir." Replies Olivia to the janitor. We both leave the room and sit down in the middle of an empty hallway. No one usually passes through here anyways.

"Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still want to know why I freaked out in there?" Her eyes dart to mine.

"Blake, do don't have to tell me. It is okay if you don't. I don't want to make..." I cut her off.

"Olivia, it's okay. I trust you." And to be honest, I do trust her. I know I have only really known her for two days, but I feel as if I can really trust her. It is a conection that I can not explain. She wants to object, but couriosity gets the best of her and she stays silent.

"Alright, where do I begin?"

What are you thinking man!? You barely know her and you are about to tell her you life story? Maybe my sub-conscience is right. What am I doing?

"Blake?" She asks.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." I'm really going through with this, aren't I? "Okay," I begin. "When I was nine, my mom was diognosed with brain cancer. She was literally the best mom in the world. She was patient and kind to everyone. She fought with all she had to stay alive. My dad and I stayed by her side for two years to help give her hope, but cancer won the battle. After she passed away, my dad couldn't handle it. He went insane with the my mom's absence, I mean, he loved her. One day I came home from school and found a letter on the counter. It was from my father...." My voice trailed off as the memory of a younger me reading the letter came into my mind. I was only eleven.