Star Crossed

Chapter 31: A Second Encounter

Mason

"Are you sure it's okay for me to come? I mean, I don't even know these people," I say into the phone, awaiting an answer.

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I don't wanna sit around being bored the whole time," Hawk replies.

"Alright, I'll be over in half an hour," I state, then hang up the call. I slide my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and wander downstairs. Last week Hawk invited me to this work party thing that his dad's hosting at his house. I was apprehensive about going at first, especially since I don't know anyone there except for Hawk, but he somehow wore me down.

I pull my coat out of the closet, slipping my arms through the material, then heading out the door. Not before yelling to my Mom who's in the living room that I'll be back sometime after dinner. I begin walking in the direction of Hawk's house, stuffing my hands into my coat pockets to keep them warm. I had forgotten to put on a hat, and simply neglected mittens, so I walk as fast as I can, not wanting to freeze in the cold, late February wind.

It doesn't take longer than twenty minutes to reach Hawk's place. I step up onto the porch of the large, white mansion, then ring the doorbell. I wait less than a minute before the door opens, revealing Hawk. He's clad in a pair of black overalls that go down to his ankles, with rips in the legs. Underneath that he has on a lime green and white stripped, long sleeve shirt. I glance down to his feet, eyeing the familiar black combat boots covering them.

"Nobody's here yet," Hawk explains, leading me inside. "So, I figured we could hang out for a while first."

I take off my jacket, handing it to Hawk to hang in the closet beside us. I follow Hawk into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the stools at the island.

"Want something to drink?" Hawk offers, peering into the fridge behind him.

"Got any root-beer?" I ask, resting my arms on the cold counter top beneath me. Hawk turns around, sliding a can of root-beer towards me, then popping the top open on his own can.

"So who's all gonna be here?" I question after awhile, gazing up from the phone in my hands.

"I'm not even really sure, most of them are a bunch of middle-aged white men," he replies, laughing slightly.

"So then why didn't you just ditch?"

"Cause my Dad said that this guy around our age is gonna be here, so I have to be here."

"Really? A kid our age would willingly come to something like this?" I retort, taking a rather large swig of my root-beer.

"I don't know, I know my parents aren't allowing me to skip, so that's why you're here."

We talk for a about half an hour longer, until people start showing up, most of which are older couples. Or even younger ones. Hawk and I are currently sitting in the living, trying to avoid most of the other guests. It's so awkward. I've been asked what grade I'm in three different times, all by women, which somehow hurts my ego a bit.

"So, is this where the cool kids hang out?" A voice behind me asks, and the person sounds vaguely familiar. I turn around, since I'm sitting on the couch, and look to the person standing there. It's a guy, with bleach blonde hair and a slender build. His piercing, brown-eyed gaze penetrating me.

"Guy from school?" I say, blanking on his name. This prompts him to laugh and sit down in a chair to the left of the couch.

"Brandon, actually," he corrects, resting his arms on the sides of the chair.

"Wait, you know him?" Hawk questions, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, I met him at school a while ago. I had no idea that you two knew each other," I explain, gesturing to both of them.