Free Removing the Mask by Aimee Whitmee Page A

on your technique.”
    My mouth goes slack at her polite way of insulting me, if you can call it that. “Practice makes perfect, huh?” I ask to her back before turning back to the poorly dressed cupcake.
    “Exactly!”
    Balancing the cupcake on my palm, I examine the lopsided buttercream swirl. It’s dented from where I bumped it with the nozzle of the piping bag and in places is thicker from where I added more pressure.
    I shake chocolate shavings over the top before trying to cover the smudge with a chocolate curl. I place it back in its spot on the tray before picking up another. This is going to be a very long afternoon.
    Twenty cupcakes, numerous pastries, one batch of ginger bread men and sixteen batches of icing later, I’m walking out the bakery with my phone in hand. Bessie said this morning that she’d come pick me up when I’d finished, yet looking around, there’s no Range Rover to be seen and dialling her number gives me nothing but the knowledge that her phone contract is with O2.   
    Before I can slip my phone back in my pocket, it rings. I answer it without looking at the screen as it’s obviously Bessie calling me back. With the phone to my ear, I start my way down the street.
    “You said you’d come pick me up.”
    “No I didn’t.” The amused voice causes me to freeze. That voice. I hesitate before checking the caller ID, just to make sure I’m not imagining this.
    “Wrong person. I’m surprised you’re calling me, after all, it’s been, what? Six months!” I spit out as I side step a man walking a golden retriever; he gives me a wary look but looks away when I meet his gaze.
    “Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy!” I hear noise in the background and then her excusing herself.
    “Don’t give me busy! You have no idea what’s been going on the last couple of months for me, you skipped out. Come on Poppy, you were my best mate, my only mate. How do you think I felt when my only mate stopped returning my calls?” I spot the Bessie pulling over to the side of the road up the street and speed up my pace to keep her from waiting.
    “I thought if I stopped, you’d come out your shell and it’d force you to make another friend or two. I done it bec-”
    “Out my shell? I’m not shy! Jeez, you make me sound weak.”
    “You’re not weak; you couldn’t be weak even if you tried. Look, I’m just saying that you became very dependent on me and that you became more of a loner. I wanted to see if you could open up a bit more, trust someone for once. But no, that didn’t work. Instead I get a phone call from Uncle Archie; you got your butt kicked out of school. Seriously Missy? Expelled? What the hell happened? Where’s the girl who was doing well in school and yeah, okay didn’t have any friends yet managed to get along with everyone?”     
    “That girl got lonely! That girl got sick and tired of the pressure being put her by her own mum! That girl evolved to survive!” With a thick throat, I open the car door and climb in. My finger acts on its own and ends the call. I close my eyes to avoid looking at Bessie, not wanting her to see tears in my eyes.   
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    I barely give her a glance before shoving my earphone in. Her face is a mask of concern, and a softness that makes a part of me want to open up. But that part isn’t as big as the part that wants me to burrow down into my writing.
    ***
    Before Bessie can corner me and start the interrogation, I run straight up the two flights of stairs before locking myself in my room.
    “I’m not hiding; I’m giving myself time to think.” I tell myself, though I’m not sure I even believe it.
    My eyes travel to the bed where the suitcases still sit. My stuff! Is it down stairs? Did he bring it today?  Probably not, he teaches today. Doesn’t particularly matter, it’s not like I need anything, I’ve got enough clothes here and I’m not desperate for my stuff, though at some point I