12. Tristan
12
TRISTAN
F rustration courses through me like electricity. Ducking under Amir’s fist, I throw a punch towards his ribs while I try to block out the annoying thoughts in my head. We’re at a cage fighting gym downtown, and it’s our third workout session of the week, but I still feel restless and frustrated.
A jolt shoots through my arm as Amir yanks his own arm down and rams his elbow into my forearm, redirecting my blow. I block his strike to my stomach and then twist around to kick at his hip.
But my mind keeps churning. Keeps returning to that afternoon outside Elle’s dormitory. I was watching her, because I still wasn’t sure if she was going to try to send campus police after me, when she paced back and forth. Then she called someone. I was too far away to hear what she said, let alone what the person on the other end of the line said, but it must have been something awful because her face transformed into this completely expressionless mask.
And then she just broke down .
The sight of it stunned me so much that I didn’t know what to do at first.
But I couldn’t just stand there. I couldn’t just stand there and watch as she collapsed to the ground, hyperventilating and gasping for air.
Pain spears through my heart at just the memory of what she looked like back then.
It’s immediately followed by a flash of anger.
Lurching forward, I throw my shoulder into Amir’s chest, tackling him. He stumbles back from the force of it and slams into the chain-link fence that cages in the fighting area. A metallic rattling sound echoes through the gym, mixing with the noise from the sparring sessions in the other cages throughout the large room.
I slam my hand towards Amir’s face. He yanks up his forearm to block it. I use that moment to drive my other fist into the side of his ribs. A huff escapes his throat.
But it still doesn’t make me feel better. I still feel angry. I still feel frustrated and confused and guilty.
I shouldn’t have helped Elle last Sunday.
She ruined my life. She destroyed my future. I shouldn’t care about her. Shouldn’t have cared that she had a panic attack. Shouldn’t have felt a stab of pain at watching her claw at her chest and struggle to breathe. I should’ve enjoyed watching it.
But seeing her perfect mask slip to reveal something that raw was… surprising.
I didn’t even know that she was capable of feeling something like that. Capable of feeling something so strongly. But between that panic attack and the wild fury she displayed when she showed up at our house, I’m beginning to think that Elle Summers might not actually be as perfect and put together as she has always made people believe.
Amir kicks towards my knee, and I’m forced to jump back to avoid it. He quickly pushes off from the chain-link fence and goes on the offensive. Slamming my palm into the side of his forearm, I redirect his blow while swinging at his own face. He blocks it with his other arm. I twist around, smacking my leg into the side of his thigh. He grunts but doesn’t go down.
A grin shines on his face as he locks eyes with me and attacks again. I grin back.
It’s interesting… This thing about masks. Amir would never have guessed that I was a quiet and unassuming nerd back in high school, because he has only known me the way I am now. Lethal. Authoritarian. He has only seen me with the mask I choose to show him.
It’s the same with all the people that I beat up on Bracken’s orders. They only see me as the terrifying punisher who will break their bones unless they do as I say. They have no idea that I’m also studying to become an engineer.
It applies in reverse as well.
Most of my professors would never have guessed that I’m a member of the White Serpents. Because as soon as I put on a long-sleeved shirt, which I always do before entering their lecture hall, I just look like a normal athletic guy who simply likes to work out. To my professors, I’m always polite. Always respectful. I never exhibit any of the threatening or cocky behaviors that I use in other situations. Again, they only see the mask that I want them to see.
It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but maybe Elle has been doing the same thing. Maybe she has also been hiding parts of herself underneath carefully constructed masks .
The thought of it fills me with a sudden burst of dark and depraved excitement.
I just want to rip off all her masks and see what’s underneath it.
While ducking another punch from Amir, and throwing several more of my own, I let my thoughts settle until I feel that my head has cleared again. Until I have made a decision.
Comforting Elle, helping her through that panic attack, was a mistake.
From now on, I need to do the exact opposite.
I need to turn up the heat even more so that she will completely and truly shatter.