From Enemies to Enemies

Chapter 11- Finding Out More

"Thirty dollars." He tells me, and I drop the jacket exactly where I found it. I find from our outing today that mason likes company, but he likes the Dum minded company. Silly words. Not someone like Rachel who's a go-getting in everything that she does. He likes the quiet sometimes too. He just wants a spectator. And I'll willingly be that for him. Anxiety maybe? Whatever his reasons are for inviting me today, I'm glad he did. Because, I'm having such a nice time!

Eventually, Mason grabs my arm and drags me to the sweater section. "You don't want a jacket?" Mason shakes his head no. We've spent quite some time looking in the jacket section. I wouldn't be surprised if he was bored of the options. "Don't wear 'em." He admits. Finally, we find a couple of things. A nice pair of black pants and a red sweater. We get tired of shopping and check out. I see on the illuminated screen at the checkout station that the total is thirty-five dollars.

Mason sighs and frowns. "Here, I've got it." I pull out my wallet and hand the cashier with the red sweater another five dollars. She checks Mason out and we bag our stuff. When we leave the store and begin walking over to the laundry mat, Mason looks at me. "Thank you. You didn't have to pay."

"It's no problem. You made me a milkshake, so I bought your pants."

We decide were hungry after tossing Mason's clothes into the washing machines at the laundry mat, so we decide to stop in the café for a snack. Mason looks uncomfortable, having to be there and not be on the cashier's side of things. When we order, he puts in his employee discount, and doesn't order anything for himself to eat. Just a plain black coffee.

Mason watches as I down another milkshake and order a third. I think about the first time that I met him. How he was standing behind that counter, same scowl on his face. Then I think of that scowl when I walked in on him changing. All those bruises cascading down his body. Someone put them there! They put him in pain. It hurts me to think of mason in pain. Or maybe, he was just clumsy like my mother is and runs into things all the time. I have to keep an open mind.

"They don't hurt." Mason says abruptly, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?"

"The bruises. They don't hurt. I know you were wondering about them." I nod and frown. "How'd you get them."

"Uh, I just did something wrong, and it was the consequence."

"No consequence should ever leave you with scars Mason. Who did that to you?" I clench my fists. I may not know Mason well, but I know that he doesn't deserve that. Anything but that.

"My father." Mason whispers, looking down at his lap. He must have felt so weak and small. Frail. The fact that his father, someone who's supposed to love and care for him can do that is vile.

"I could never imagine my father doing that." I tell him, though I'm sure it provides no aid to him. I thought my father was bad for divorcing my mom, but this is much worse. "You didn't deserve that." I slide my hands onto the table towards him. I don't know why. What's he going to do, grab them?

"It's fine okay! It doesn't matter." His hand pushes my hands away from his and he turns to look out the window.

"If you say so." I wonder if Rachel knows that he was being abused. How long ago did it start? How long did it go on for? Is it still happening? So many questions that I want answers to.

It gets awkward so we decide to leave and go back to the laundry mat. When the clothes come out of the dryer, Mason goes into the bathroom to try on all his clothes. When he comes back, he's looking very cozy.