2 STRINGS

Mixed Signals

Friday, September 27

I woke up to my phone buzzing with pictures from last night's party—mostly of Melody and Jessica, laughing and hanging out. I'd barely slept, and those photos definitely didn't help. Then another ding—a message from Mason, saying he'd noticed what was going on at the party and asked if I wanted to talk about it. I didn't expect that from him, but it actually felt... nice. So, I opened up a bit, telling him about how hurt I felt with Melody leaving me alone like that and even apologized for my attitude toward him. After talking it through, I did feel a bit lighter, like maybe things weren't quite as bad as they seemed.

Still, I dreaded school. The hallways of George Washington High were already buzzing with everyone's voices and laughter as I walked through the front doors. The sunlight spilled through the windows, catching glimpses of last night's memories that I just wanted to forget. Just as I reached my locker, I spotted Melody coming toward me with an apologetic look.

"Jamie, I need to explain," she started. "Last night, I was hanging out with Jessica on purpose. I thought if I left you alone with Mason, you'd have a chance to actually talk to him."

I let out a sigh, mixed with relief and frustration. "Melody, you should've told me. I felt abandoned. Like I'd lost my best friend in one night."

She put a hand on my shoulder, her eyes soft with regret. "You're right. I didn't think it through. I'm sorry."

I softened a bit, shaking my head. "Just... never do that again, okay?"

The tension finally broke, and soon we were back to our usual banter, talking about soccer tryouts and Mason—especially after he showed up in the hallway, asking if I'd join him for lunch after school.

After the final bell, Mason drove us to Sunset Brew, a cozy little cafe on Main Street. It had a warm, vintage feel, with records on the walls and deep leather booths. We laughed over our sandwiches and iced teas, and for a second, I forgot about everything else. But just when I thought things were going well, Mason suddenly got a strange look on his face, checked his phone, and muttered something about needing to go. He didn't even look me in the eye as he said it—he just left.

As I watched him walk away, frustration bubbled up inside me. "What a dick," I muttered, grabbing my bag. I had no idea what his deal was, but I wasn't going to let him ruin my day.

On the walk home, I found myself humming one of Mom's favorite songs, something she used to sing around the house when I was little. I don't know why, but singing it made me feel a bit better, like I was grounded in something familiar. Mom's always been my rock—beautiful, strong, and full of life, with that contagious laugh of hers. People say I look like her, but she has this glow about her that I don't know if I'll ever have. She's driven, too; she's working so hard to make her restaurant a success, and nothing ever seems to slow her down.

When I finally got home, I found my little brother, Kooty, bouncing with excitement. "You promised to play with me today!" he reminded me, crossing his arms with a smirk that reminded me I had no escape.

So, out to the backyard we went, where we made up a chaotic mix of tag and soccer. We had our own set of rules that made no sense to anyone but us—points for tricks, bonus points for goofy moves, and a lot of laughing until we were both out of breath.

Later, I joined Mom in the kitchen where she and Dad were laughing together as they cooked dinner. "What took so long after school?" Mom asked, looking at me curiously.

"Oh, just a project," I replied casually. They didn't pry, so I guess they bought it.

Dinner was full of laughs, and afterward, I caught up with Melody to tell her about my lunch with Mason. I couldn't help but admit how confusing it was, how one minute he seemed so interested, and the next, he was out the door. Melody listened, teasing me a bit but also being the supportive friend she always is.

Finally, I tried to put my thoughts down in my diary, but before I could finish my entry, my eyes started to droop. The pen slipped from my hand, and I fell asleep mid-sentence, leaving all the emotions of the day hanging between the pages.