The Chord to my Heart

14: Tell Me A Secret

                                                                  14: Tell Me A Secret

           I wanted to hold Mase. I longed to wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze tight enough until all of his scattered pieces were pressed into a corner. Only then would it be possible to match them up and make him whole again. So I did just that. As we raced down a main road towards the highway, I held Mase. While my arms remained wrapped around his torso, I pulled myself closer to him and held on tighter than necessary. I would practice fixing him. So maybe, when it was my turn to be fixed, I'd know what to do.

           We left the bowling alley soon after Mase mentioned his little sister. He didn't tell me anything about her though. And even as the curiosity was gnawing at my insides, I didn't ask him for details.

           "So what'll it be? The Sour Patch Kids or the Cookie Dough Bites?" I asked, holding up two boxes of candy for him to choose from. Before today, I didn't realize Mase was a bit of a rebel. His sleek, and much too fast, motorcycle should've been a sign.

           We were currently standing in the candy aisle of Walgreens, picking out snacks I could easily stuff into my purse and sneak into the movie theater. Not only were we planning on sneaking in food and drinks, but we were also planning on sneaking ourselves in. This, of course, was Mase's idea. I was all for paying the six dollars and seventy-five cents. He claimed it'd be more fun this way.

           Mase was rubbing his jaw in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed. The second thing I learned about him today was his lack of abilities in decision making.

           "You're going to age really early with all the over thinking you do about petty things," I said to him. I couldn't help but to laugh at his offended expression.

           "You can't just pick up two random candies and expect me to choose without a thought," he said, seriously.

           I rolled my eyes. "Which one do you feel like munching on more?" I asked.

           After a few moments of hesitation, he finally said, "Both."

           "Fine. Now, come on. Off to get drinks. We'll miss the movie if you don't hurry," I said, tugging at his t-shirt.

           After a lot of consideration, and by a lot I mean another fifteen minutes, Mase finally picked out a bottle of lemonade.

           We paid for the food and were standing in the parking lot now while I stuffed the drinks and candy into my purse. Mase watched with an amused expression.

           "You know, I never understood why you girls carry around huge purses. But now it all makes sense," he said, nodding his head in approval.

           We climbed on his bike then, but before he started driving, he turned back towards me.

           "It's my turn next, right?" He said, a crooked smile forming on his lips.

           "Your turn for what?" I asked, confused.

           "I asked you about this morning. And you asked me about her," he said, lifting his sleeve and running a hand over his tattoo before continuing, "Now it's my turn to ask a question."

           "Ah, the famous question game. I'll play, but we need some rules," I said, my competitive side surfacing.

           "No one-word answers. You gotta tell the truth, no matter what. And there's no limits to what we can ask about," he said.