I'm On Your Side

4 | I can make friends, huh, maybe that's bad.

(Back to) Isha's POV

OUT OF ALL the things I could possibly do to Mason Ferguson, I would never have thought that I'd hurt his feelings. I mean, I already managed to hurt someone else's feelings and I thought I had learned from that, but I guess this is the Universe's way of saying think again.

It's not like I want to hurt people's feelings either. Hell, I don't even want to say anything to anyone! I just want to be that person who sits in the corner and is rarely talked about. But my subconscious mind has other plans for me and I hate that.

I hate it so much that I was actually considering skipping therapy class today, but then my conscious mind made me think of all the cons that would happen if I didn't show up (like Mason thinking I'm too scared to own up to my mistake, which, I mean, I am, but I guess I gotta act like I'm not) so I carried my ass all the way to the waiting room―where I am now and am currently contemplating whether I should apologize to Mason or not.

I mean, I should, but is right now the appropriate time? Like, what if one of the people from the therapy group comes while I'm apologizing to him? That would make things 10 times worse, I think to myself, but then again―they don't even go to Lincoln High, so... (yes, if you couldn't already tell, I do care about what other people think about me).

Fuck it.

"I'm sorry," I say, filling in the silence. When I don't get a response, I continue talking, "I didn't know what you were going to tell me meant so much to you. I understand if you don't want to tell me that thing anymore, but I just want to let you know that I'm going to learn from this lesson and also―"

"It's okay," Mason says, interrupting me and I look at him shocked. I didn't think he would take things so lightly, "I shouldn't have rushed things." I open my mouth, about to agree, but then I pause―is this a trap? "Um, I just want to know something," Mason says and I nod my head.

"Yeah?"

"Are you fri―well, do you know Kyle Keen?" he asks with such skepticism that I don't know if knowing Kyle is a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well, I'm not friends with him, b―"

"Yeah, I meant if you knew him," Mason says.

"Yeah," I say, looking at Mason, "I know him."

"Knew or know?" Mason asks me in what seems like a challenging question.

"Um," I start as I analyze the question. I'm not friends with Kyle, but he used to be in my math and history class back in eighth grade, so, "Knew?" I answer in a questionable tone.

"Oh, okay," Mason says.

I scrunch my eyebrows. "Why?" Even though I already have a plausible idea of why Mason's asking me this―Kyle's his friend and I might've had a crush on him in 8th grade, but how would Mason know?―it still intrigues me to know what made Mason ask me this question.

"I just wanted to know," Mason says, shrugging it off like it's not that big of a deal, which, come to think of it, really isn't since he just wants to know if I know someone, but my mind pays no attention to that small thought and instead decides to interrogate Mason.

"You're friends with him, right?" I ask and Mason looks a little surprised before nodding his head.

"Yeah, how do you know?" Well, those tables turned really quick.

I scramble for a reasonable response to that question because all the honest responses I have to those questions are weird af. I mean, how do you say I saw your pictures on Instagram with him without making it sound weird? I mean, I guess you can, right? Like, it's not impossible. Okay, I think to myself as I open my mouth, here we go.