Dissonance | ✓

26 | Simply Happy

     Jitters ran loose through my body after Ximena left the hall. I still stood there, bouncing on my toes, with aching cheeks from holding in a wide smile for so long until my face finally cracked into one. Not only had the endless back-and-forth between the two of us finally ceased, but the bitter taste that settled on my tongue during every petty bicker sweetened after each graze of Ximena's lips on mine; the pressure pinning me down was released, and I could begin to focus again; I was simply happier, and I only hoped that the same could have been said about Ximena (although, I was fairly confident that it could have).

      I strode proudly out of the hall, as if emerging triumphant from battle—which, if the actual situation was twisted, I had. Ximena and I had long been fighting against each other, though we shared the same goal. Once that was realized, we came together. Quite far-fetched, but a fair analogy, all the same.

     While becoming Ximena's girlfriend was the highlight of my day, it must have exhausted the last of my good karma points, as what happened next tarnished the rest of my day and spring break.

     Right when I left the assembly hall, an all-too-familiar hand curled its fingers around my wrist and tugged me backwards. 

     I ripped away from the possessive grip, whipping around. "Can I help you?" I groaned.

     "C'mon," said Mason, smirking. "don't act like you're not happy to see me." Matted hair sat atop his head like he just woke from a night of tossing, and I wondered if he was having an off-day: Mason never stepped out onto campus looking disheveled.

     I scoffed, "It's not acting."

     "Whatever. I know you still want me." The impudence emanating from him was almost tangible, making me retch internally.

     "You're the last person I'd want."

     Another smug smile crept onto Mason's face. "You know, I wouldn't have believed that, before. But now? I do."

     I furrowed my eyebrows. Mason rarely made sense, but in that instance, it was as if he was hinting at something he knew and I did not. I asked him to elaborate, but he only chuckled a malicious laugh. "There's nothing to expand on."

     "Then what was the point of pulling me aside?" I was near zero-tolerance with him.

     "To tell you about my day," Mason said, drawing locks of hair away from my face and behind me ear: I slapped his hand away. "I woke up this morning and felt like crap. Went straight to the cafeteria for food. You're friend, Miranda, spat on my neck when I walked in. She's lucky she's a chick, or I would've—"

     I cut him off. Are you getting anywhere important with this?"

     "I would've reached there if you weren't so impatient." Mason leaned against the wall. "I was pissed, but I let her go because she's got enough, dealing with Josh.

     Then I had practice, and you're other friend, Joey, tripped me. Didn't hurt, but I knew he did it on purpose. If I didn't care about playing next season, I would've killed that dumbass."

     Mason brought his story to a few minutes before, when he had seen me entering the hall and decided to unleash all his frustration on me—his reasoning being that I was the common denominator between all of his misfortunes that day. "I wanted to, but then I saw that you weren't alone. And you weren't with Zoe. It was Ximena. I wasn't sure wether to just walk in or not, so I waited, and, damn, am I glad that I waited!"

     What Mason was hinting at could not have been any more apparent. He heard my entire conversation with Ximena: he knew how we felt for each other.

     He knew I was gay—or bisexual (I was not even sure of that, myself).

     There was no more from him that I needed to hear, so I turned my back to him and flounced away.

★ 

     I could not go to Ximena to tell her what had happened, in fear that she would explode and we would, for the umpteenth time, end up fighting. For the last few days I had been avoiding her, which may have come off as me being ashamed of our relationship, even though I was only confused and anxious about what Mason might have done with his newly-uncovered information.

     Spring break was only days away. The dread towards going back home continued to mount with every passing hour. Where was home, though? Certainly not anywhere Mr. Baker was, so he could not shower me in hate. All I wanted was to find solace in people that loved me equally as much as I loved them, and right then, that could have only been in my mother—but who was to say that she would not have had a change in heart between winter break and then, and favor Mr. Baker over me? It had been quite a while since our last conversation over the phone, and, even then, we still seemed distant.

     I was curled into my sheets in my dorm, while Miranda hunched over her desk, straining herself with Impossibly difficult' algebra problems. She has been at them for over an hour, and had barely progressed with her work. I would have tried to help her, if not for the throbbing in my head, as a result of Michelle's constant whining during the committee meeting; nothing seemed to please the girl; there was always something to complain about.

     "So, I'm buying my dress next week and I want it to be unexpected," Miranda was cooing over every subtlety of spring formal night, rather than focusing on her work. If Josh had not sworn to make that evening the best he could for her, she would not have been as ecstatic as she was. Seeing Miranda that radiant brought me so much joy. Although I knew less than I would have liked about her past I knew being with Josh was somewhat therapeutic and alleviated her pain.

     Miranda tossed a pen at me. "Did you hear me?" she said. "No, sorry. I was thinking." I apologized, sitting upright. "I said, what are you planning to wear?"

     "I haven't actually thought about that," I realized. "I'll find something with my mom."

     Shopping with my mother for dresses. I was suddenly looking forward to that; at last, having a bonding experience with my mother that Juliet always had. My headache began to clear at the thought of being with mother. I cherished the image in my mind, as my eyes slowly fluttered closed. The thought of it continued well into my dreams and gave me something pleasant to wake up to, the next morning. For the first time, that year, I could not have been any more excited for a break as I was, then.