I'm On Your Side

1 | The Universe Has, Once Again, Failed Me

"Yes. Yes, please."

He puts his hair back which was previously falling in his face as he moves his chair back which causes my heart to do a belly flop. Fuck. Seriously, Universe? What have I done to deserve this?! Ironically enough seeing his curls makes me wonder how it would feel on my skin. Like, would it be hot if his curls fell onto my neck as he gave me a hickey? I know, I know; it's weird, but I didn't have my first kiss yet (like I ever will) nevertheless a hickey so that's excusable... right? "Wait. I know you. You're in my English and History class, right?"

"No. I'm just another girl named Isha," I say, sarcastically.

"Um," Mason pauses. "I know that you're in my English and History class. I just wanted to ask that question just to acknowledge that we already know each other."

"So that we don't need to do the ice breaker?" I say, figuring that's what he means.

"What? No! No, no. I―I mean unless you want to," he runs his hand through his hair and I watch it silently. God, I really hope his hand gets stuck in a knot in his hair the next time he does that.

"Um," I start. To be honest, Mason's confusing me with all these mixed signals. First, he wants to acknowledge that we already know each other by bringing up the fact that we're in the same classes and then he does or doesn't want to do the ice breaker. Suddenly, a phone beeps. I freeze, wondering if the phone that's beeping is mine, but then I realize that I don't have that ringtone. Apparently, Mason does because he pulls out his phone and starts chuckling a little bit. My heart sinks a little. It's probably that girl who he was commenting with on that girl's friend's Instagram post. I eye the classroom and notice that everyone else is talking. Should I say something? I open my mouth and then stop. What the fuck am I supposed to say? I think to myself. That we should probably do the ice breaker, right? I respond back in my head. Right. I look at Mason about to open my mouth when he suddenly puts his phone away.

Well, that was easy. I guess I didn't need to do all that mental thinking.

I look around me to spot April walking towards us. I silently applaud her. Good job, April! Putting Mason where he should be: scared. Okay, maybe I'm being a little too harsh (I'm not), but Mason deserves it. "Why aren't you two talking?" April says, stopping right in front of us. She towers over me like the Empire State Building. Damn, I didn't know that she's this tall! In fact, she reminds me of the movie Tall Girl. Suddenly, I have to bite back on the urge to snicker at how cringe that movie is.

"Uh, my mom was texting me so I had to text her back," Mason quickly replies back. I roll my eyes. Such a typical lie. Fortunately, this isn't April's first time having someone tell her this.

"Okay, well, when you get home, tell your mom to not text you during therapy class. Therapy class is for you, not for you to text your mom―you can do that during school," she pauses, waiting for a response. "Okay?"

"Okay," Mason says, nodding his head as quickly as ever.

"Alright. Well, I better see you talking," she says directly to Mason before giving me a nice smile.

She walks back to the desk area just as Mason says, "Okay, so do you wanna go first or should I?"

My eyes focusing on April, I say, "You can go."

"Oh, well, I like soccer. That interests me. And history too, I guess."

"You like history?" I blurt out. I turn so fast that I'm pretty sure if someone were to get whipped my ponytail during that moment, it would leave a mark. My cheeks turn red when I look at Mason's face; he seems hurt. "I-I mean history's great and all, but the graded discussions and the tests are..."