Innocence at its Worst

Day 4 - 10

Brook barely walked into school that morning when she "bumped" into Mason causing everybody in the hallway to collapse to the floor like a row of dominoes. Mason managed to keep his balance, shot his hand out for Brook, and caught her mid-air while everybody else crashed into one another.

"Easy there, Princess." 

Brook gaped at him, yanking her wrist out of his grasp as fast as she possibly could, only to fall back to the ground.

"Well, if you wanted to fall, you could have screamed like everybody else," Mason shrugged. 

Brook's cheeks burned with anger. "Why--!?" she had no words for this outrage. Brook scrambled to her feet and ran down the hall. She hates herself for doing it, but here she is, in the bathroom once again because of this stupid Mason guy. 

Brook stares at herself in the mirror, meeting her own eyes with determination. I'm not running this time.

She promptly strides out of the bathroom boldly, looking left and right for any sign of a living soul. Perfect.

One step forward, and Mason is right there at her side, ready to trip her again. Like a ghost. Brook pushes him away, "Will you stop?" she crosses her arms, already fuming again. It's bad enough everybody in the entire school saw us doing the Tango, but does he seriously have to be everywhere that I am?

"Stop?" Mason cocks his head.

"You know what," Brook says with spite. She would have shoved past him, had she not been too timid. Instead, Brook attempts to move past him, but he doesn't budge. 

Mason studies her closely.

Brook stares at him, trying to gauge his emotions, but he isn't showing any. Normally she can read everybody's faces quite well, but Mason is-- a mystery to her. She glares at him, hoping he understands her hate for him and whirls on her toes, heading the exact opposite way she needed to go. Crap.

Stopping in her tracks, Brook spins around, storming past Mason again. She swore she saw the barest trace of a grin on his face. Clenching her fists, Brook seamlessly blends into the crowd of rowdy teens, all shocked and excited about the Domino. 

"Brook," Mason calls out, but she doesn't answer. 

"Hey Bro--" Charlie waved at her, only to be rejected by Brook's ice cold glare as she glided past.

Now is not the time, Brook fumed. She quickly found her locker, twisting the knob too fast and missing the numbers. Closing her eyes, Brook counted silently from ten backwards. Having already calmed down, she tried again. Except Mason was there at her side. She didn't dare look at him.

Mason sticks his thumbs in his pockets, "Why do you keep running?" he asks.

Brook bites her lip, her fingers resting on her locker. She cast a glance at her sister, silently pleading for help, but Charlie is too busy talking to Rhea. Looking back up at Mason, she wanted to hit herself for doing the exact thing she didn't want to do! His lips quirked up in a smile before disappearing again.

Brook's eyes widen. She saw that! She read him! Almost. Raising an eyebrow, she leaned against her locker, mimicking Mason.

He cocks his head, mirroring her blank expression equally. She purses her lips, hating him already. He smiles again.

After a long inner debate, she finally says, "Why won't you leave me alone?" 

He shrugs, "You're interesting."

"Trust me, there isn't anything interesting about me," Brook immediately thought of her hidden jewels. Her emotions. Nobody is to find them. 

"If you say so..." Mason squints, peering at her from every angle. His gaze slides across the hallway, drawing Brook's attention. She sees Arian give Mason a significant look, wondering if they are confidants of one another. 

Turning her attention back to Mason, she shot a glare at him. She would have said something outrageous like, "You're trying to get into my pants, aren't you?" Probably resulting in an awkward staring contest and Brook calling the cops. Unfortunately, and fortunately, she isn't like Rhea. Instead, Brook settled for a question, "Do you know him?"

Mason seemed taken aback. "Not really," he answers slowly. 

Brook can tell there is more story to it than that. She lists her head, inquiring the backstory.

Sighing, Mason relents. "Something happened. I walked through him-- I walk through everybody, but he's the only one that noticed it."

"You don't walk through me," Brook states.

Mason nods once, a question mark still painted on his face. 

It then dawned on her. No wonder Mason is still following her everywhere. "Prove it." She inclines her head, demanding evidence before her mind gets too far ahead.

Mason shrugs and stretches his arm straight out; a couple holding hands walk by, passing through his outstretched hand like it instantly became a silvery grey smoke, yet oblivious to him entirely. "It's new," Mason explains.

Nodding, Brook reaches out to touch him, withdrawing at the last second. She never liked being touched. She sighs, already knowing that he can touch her without becoming a ghost. "When?"

Mason looks uncomfortable with the question, "Three days ago," he mutters.

Brook frowns, puzzling this through when her head implodes in a sharp pain. Suddenly everything around her was too bright in color and noise. Her focus was split everywhere at once, seeing everything, hearing everything...

Her mind felt like it was being torn apart by the outside world. She curled in on herself, seeking safety within her own self. 

A watery voice echoed through the depths of her mind, "Easy there." Her eyes fluttered, the only piece of her she could still control.