That evening, I called both my mother and Kate for entirely different reasons.
I called my mom because I was missing her, craving the sound of her voice and lame little jokes.
I filled her in on everything that had happened since I'd last spoken to her, excluding some details, and ended up running my mouth dry with descriptions of London and all the places Mason and I had visited.
She had almost been more excited than me, asking me question after question, and gasping in delight at my answers. She informed me that everything was fine at home, work was busier than ever, and she missed me to the moon and back. I was surprised when I felt a pang of homesickness settle in my stomach.
I had been so wrapped up in this different and chaotic world that I hadn't had much time to stop and think about my mom. About her amazing cooking, or sweet perfume, or her laid-back, ever-optimistic attitude. I wondered if she was all right, if she wasn't too lonely, and wished that, just for a second, I could be with her.
After saying goodbye to her, a little rapidly so she couldn't catch on to my sudden emotions, I made the next call to Kate, bracing myself for her reaction to the news I'd soon tell her.
I hadn't told anybody about what had happened between Mason and I a few hours earlier. Not Molly or Emily or JT. For some reason I had wanted to keep it to myself. Just for a little longer, I had wanted to keep what had happened a secret between myself and Mason, undisturbed by everybody else.
But now I needed to tell someone about the kiss, as I was beginning to drive myself crazy going over and over the moment in my head.
I quickly scrolled down my list of Facetime contacts until I got to Kate's and clicked the call button, praying to God she would answer.
She did. Her face suddenly popped onto my screen, an image of blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a grin that almost split her face in half.
I couldn't contain my own giddy smile upon seeing the familiar face of my best friend.
"Hey there," I said, giving her a little wave through the camera.
"Rose!" she exclaimed, beaming excitedly. "God I've missed you. What have you been up to? How's England? Cold? According to the news it should be snowing over there in a couple days. How's Mason? You haven't killed him yet have you? I've honestly missed you so much—"
"Jesus, Kate calm down!" I finally interrupted with a laugh. But, God, had I missed her and her excessive babbling too.
"Everything is amazing here. The people are great. My roommate Molly— you'd love her."
Kate looked relieved. "Thank God. I was scared you were going to end up stuck with some psychopath or something, who'd become, like, obsessed with you. You know like in The Roommate?"
"The movie?"
"Yeah."
I rolled my eyes. "Tad dramatic."
But that didn't stop the huge grin on my face as I stared at Kate, taking in her Barbie locks and pursed smile. Silently, I regretted not calling her sooner. I had been so caught up in this whirlwind of new people and places that I had neglected the people I loved back home.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry for not making contact sooner, Kate. It's been so hectic here, not that that's an excuse—"
"Oh God, relax, Rose. I get it. I know you've been super busy so don't sweat it. And besides, you're calling me now."
Again, I was filled with affection for my best friend, and so taking a breath, I decided to tell her what I hadn't told a soul yet.
Glancing to check my door was firmly shut I said, "So about that. There's something I need to tell you."
Kate raised one eyebrow and sat back in her seat. "Shoot."
I swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. "It involves Mason... and me."
There was a beat of silence before, "OH MY GOD. Oh my God! Oh my FREAKING—"
"God," I finished drily.
"You're kidding me!" Kate exclaimed, looking so closely into the camera that she had to squint. "You and Mason? Mason Tanner. The same Mason Tanner that you hated not even two months ago?"
I sighed and flopped back against my pillows. "I know, I know. I didn't see it coming either. It just..." I thought about Mason and I, how our less than civil relationship had turned into a friendship and then into... whatever we were now. "It just happened, I guess."
Kate leant back in her own chair, shaking her head with bafflement, before asking, "So how did it happen?"
"The kiss?" I asked.
"No, human creation. Yes the kiss, you idiot! I want all of the details— now."
I bit my lip, letting my mind wander back to when we had been walking only a couple of hours ago, together on the streets.
"Well, we were fighting."
Kate scoffed. "Typical. You sure you didn't mistake him trying to tackle you or something for a kiss? "
I gave her a flat look. "Ha ha." I thought back again to the moment, remembering how angry we'd both been. "Yeah, well this time it wasn't one of our usual petty fights. It was more... serious. I don't know. Honestly it could have ended up going both ways. I guess we were lucky we were able to make up."
"You mean make out?"
I gave her a deadpan look and her bell-like laugh floated through my laptop.
"Okay, so what exactly was this fight about then? And when the hell did you start generating these feelings for Mason?"
And so I let out a large exhale and started from the beginning. I began with the small things. Like when Mason had let me sleep on his shoulder during the plane ride over, or how he had leant me his sweater, which I still had sitting in my cupboard.
Or the way he had lost his cool in the common room that one day, and I had seen a completely different side of him altogether, a vulnerable side. Or when he told me that I looked good the night at the club, or carried me home, or tucked me into bed.
Or today, when he came on the London Eye with me, despite his phobia, just so that I would have company.
Or maybe it had just been the casual things that had changed my perception of him. The casual chatter, the jokes, the sincere smiles, knowing that he came from the same place as I did, knew the people I knew, shared a common and familiar background that separated us from the rest of the people here.
I didn't know exactly when my feelings had formed, but I did know the moment when I had suddenly become aware of them. And so I proceeded to tell Kate about our fight, told her my worries about how he didn't share anything with me, was a constant closed book, and that I had a sick feeling that something awful had happened in Mason's past. Something that still tormented him today.
"And then somehow, all of a sudden, we were kissing."
Kate blew out a low whistle before slumping back in her chair.
"Dude, you could write a book about all of that." She shook her head a little dazed. "I still can't believe it's Mason Tanner we're talking about. So did you ever find out why he was such a dick to you for all of those years?"
I let out a sigh and set my chin heavily in my hand. "No. After all of that, I still didn't get anything back from him. He's got these walls, Kate, and it's like he has this fear, or something, that if he lets them down he might, I don't know, go down with them."
We were silent for a moment, both contemplating my words, before Kate said, "Just give him some time. He'll open up. If whatever happened to him was as bad as you think it might be, well then you can't expect him to be completely confident sharing his life story. Have a little in faith in him."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I'm trying not push him, it's just really hard sometimes, you know?"
Kate gave me a sympathetic smile. "Yeah I do. It'll be okay though. Promise."
I smiled back at her, wondering if she knew just how much I appreciated her and her friendship.
"So..." Kate said abruptly, suddenly looking extremely sheepish. "I have something to tell—"
A short knock on my door interrupted her words and I shot her an apologetic glance. "Sorry, hold that thought."
Peering over my computer screen I called, "Come in."
"Who is it?" Kate asked eagerly. "Is it this roommate of yours? Because I really want to set some best friend ground rules straight before some British babe tries to replace—"
"Mason," I blurted, cutting off Kate's rambling. He looked as though he had just gotten out of the shower, his hair a dark mop of gold, and his cheeks slightly flushed from the hot water. His lips were pursed in a faint smile as his eyes made contact with mine.
"Hey," he said, amusement dancing in his voice.
"What are you— I mean— um— is there... something you wanted... or um... needed?"
I cringed at my pathetic sentence. He was still Mason for God's sake. Just Mason. Calm the hell down.
"Smooth dude," came Kate's amused voice from the laptop.
Mason raised an eyebrow while my cheeks flushed red. "You got company?" he inquired.
"Just Kate," I replied, gesturing lamely to my laptop. "I was just Facetiming her actually."
"Oh," Mason said in understanding. "Well I won't interrupt you, I'll just—"
"Not interrupting anyone here," Kate butted in, a little too eagerly. "Stay. I was just about to hang up."
Mason let out a small chuckle. "Hey Kate."
"Hi! How've you been? Rose was just catching me up on everything that's been happening."
I gritted my teeth at Kate's slight suggestion to what exactly I'd been catching her up on, and reluctantly turned the computer around so that she could see Mason as they talked.
"All's good thanks. Shit cold but good." Mason then cocked his head at the screen, a slight smirk playing oh his lips. "I'm assuming all's good with you? Well from what Ryan's told me, that is."
Kate's mouth dropped open before she scowled. "How the hell do you know about that? You're halfway across the damn world."
Mason gave her an unimpressed look. "You hooked up with the guy I've known since kindergarten. Tell me how I wouldn't know that?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa— hold up," I finally butted in, holding my hands up to stop both Mason and Kate.
I set my gaze on Kate who was now looking extremely awkward. "You hooked up with Ryan Travis?"
She gave me a small smile. "Surprise?"
"How did you not get to telling me that you got with Mr. Hit-on-everything-with-a-skirt?"
"Best friend over here," Mason said, raising his hand in small wave.
"Rich coming from you Ms. I'll-never-hook-up-with-an-egoistical-player," Kate retorted.
"Still right over here guys."
Mason then suddenly turned to look at me. "Wait, you said that?" He then had a second revelation. "Wait— she knows? You already told her?"
"You hooked up with the girl I've known since before kindergarten. Tell me how I wouldn't know that?" Kate replied, throwing Mason's own words back into his face with a dry smirk.
"Oh my God," I muttered, embarrassment leaking into every pore of my body. "Can we please just stop. We're not talking about me or... or Mason... we're talking about the fact that you hooked up with this idiot's—" I gestured at Mason— "idiot best friend and you didn't manage to inform me about it."
Mason merely rolled his eyes.
Kate let out a big sigh before leaning back in the desk chair she was sitting in. "I was going to tell you, obviously, but I was pretty preoccupied listening to your own little love story happening over there."
"Kate!" I snapped, feeling the room heat up considerably.
Mason let out a loud bark of laughter, his lips pulling up in amusement.
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gain some composure, before opening them again.
"Maybe it's better if I call you again tomorrow." I bit out in an attempted sweet voice. "You know— when we're alone."
Kate quickly caught the warning in my voice by rewarding me with a big, old, 'why so embarrassed?' grin.
"Okay, I get you. I'll leave you guys alone now. Night friends, speak soon, and remember Tanner, protection is your friend—"
I slammed the laptop lid shut, abruptly cutting off Kate's last words.
There was a beat of silence where I just stared at the comforter I was sitting cross-legged on, humiliation affecting my vocal chords.
"So..." Mason attempted.
I groaned and flopped onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. "You can leave if you want," I mumbled between my fingers. "Actually, I'd really love it if you left."
I couldn't face Mason now. I had already been nervous about facing him after what had happened, and now with Kate embarrassing the hell out of me on top of that? Not going to happen.
Mason however didn't listen— as per usual— and instead let out a low chuckle. "You don't need to be embarrassed."
I shot a glance at him through my fingers and saw he had his arms crossed and was leaning a firm shoulder against the wall.
He was so good looking. In those black sweat pants and tight, grey long-sleeved top, little was left to the imagination. I was then reminded that earlier I had actually been kissing him, feeling his firm torso pressed up against mine. Feeling his fingertips pressing into my lower back. Feeling his lips move against my jaw.
All at once I was flustered and hot and wanted more than anything to skip all of the awkward talk and just kiss him again.
"Haven't you noticed?" I forced out. "It's my thing."
Mason shot me a small smile before taking a tentative step towards the bed.
"So, you told her?" He dropped his hands to casually tuck them into his pockets, his whole demeanor nonchalant, but I knew Mason, and the way he was looking at me right then with those eyes, gold and deep and direct, told me there was nothing too relaxed about him right now.
And that shook me and gave me a boost of confidence all at once.
I cautiously slid my body up so that it was resting against the bed's headboard and met his gaze. "I did." I tilted my chin up. "Is that a problem?"
"Yeah, she might tell people and there goes my reputation."
My jaw dropped and I stared at him, hurt lashing me like a whip.
Mason saw this instantly and his expression changed to one of panic. "Rose, I was kidding. I'm kidding. Pierce, it's me— what's up with you?"
I sagged slightly in relief, shaking my head dazedly. What was wrong with me? It was Mason. The same old Mason who used sarcasm as a crutch and was never short of a joke. Just Mason.
I forced out a breath feeling a little overwhelmed. "I... I'm sorry, I'm being dumb. I just-" I looked at him, wishing he could read me, understand what I was feeling, what I wanted.
"Can I sit?" Mason asked, his movements cautious as he gestured towards the bed.
I gave a small nod, and forced myself not to think about the ideas that came along with a bed and two people of the opposite sex.
The bed went down slightly under his weight and I took a steady breath now his face was in line with mine. He was far from me, his back barely brushing my calves, but that was still close enough for my mouth to go dry.
"There was a reason I came to see you," he spoke, his eyes moving lazily from the floor and landing on mine.
"Really? I assumed you'd come to read me a bedtime story."
Mason shot me a quick grin. "In a minute babe, hear me out and then I'll have you falling asleep to your favorite fairytale in no time."
My heart stuttered. Babe. Babe. God, I liked him. I liked him so much. I literally couldn't think straight, all my thoughts consumed by a crush that had exploded out of nowhere.
His face was so beautiful in that moment, with the lamp from my bedside table creating a soft glow over his features, accentuating his cheekbones, his jawline, his black lashes, his captivating eyes. "I'm sorry about today."
My head snapped up, dread curling in my stomach. "You're... sorry?" I barely got out.
"About fighting with you," he explained quickly, seeming to read my line of thoughts. "About shouting at you and... well, being a dick."
I relaxed slightly, trying to shake off my edginess.
Get a grip, Rose. You're being pathetic. It's Mason. Just Mason.
That was beginning to become a mantra for me.
I gave him a nonchalant shrug. "It's okay, I know you—"
"No it isn't," he interrupted, his brows pulling down into a deep crease.
I went quiet in surprise. Mason was staring hard at the bed now, his fingers curling and uncurling into fists. He had something on his chest, something he was struggling to get out, so I stayed silent and let him get to it in his own time.
He took a big breath, his honey eyes fluttering up to mine. "You were right. What you said today about me not opening up. It's true– what you said was true... and it's not fair. Not on you anyway."
I stayed still, careful not to break his composure. But I couldn't help but swallow at his last line.
"I've bullshitted my way through the last couple of years," he said abruptly, his eyes finding mine. I was stunned by the sudden shift in conversation. I didn't know where it had come from, if it had been spontaneous on Mason's part or planned, but it was there and present and suddenly there was an urgency in the air; a crackling tension flowing from Mason into me.
I realized in that moment we were on the brink of something. Or Mason was. He was standing, tilting, falling off the edge of something from which there was no going back. And, through the helpless panic I saw in his wide eyes, I could see it scared him, terrified him,.
However, the panic was mixed with relief. A wild relief. As though he were finally telling someone what had been eating away at him for years. As though he were finally sharing his load and giving some kind of release to his pain. As though he was finally trusting.
Spurred on by his wild emotions, Mason went on, his eyes blazing with intensity. "I've been putting on this whole, big, fake as shit façade— all the jokes and the girls and the 'I don't give a crap about anything' attitude. All fucking fake."
I had never seen Mason like this, completely without control, enraged by his own emotions. "I mean do you honestly think I give a shit about being somebody's Prom King? Or throwing parties where I get wasted and end up sleeping up with some girl whose name I don't remember the next day? Or football? God, football." He choked out a laugh; a bitter, painful laugh that made me wince. "Even that, something I used to love, is now all just part of the act." His words were low and cold and so resentful that I shivered.
Finally, I gathered up some courage and said quietly, "But I thought you loved it? You told me you and your dad—"
I realized I had hit a landmine when Mason's eyes flashed up to mine and he gave me wicked smile. A bitter smile. Like sun glinting off a knife's edge.
"My dad. The dad I can't even have a full a conversation with anymore. The dad who hasn't been a dad to me for the last four years. I don't know that dad anymore. The one who taught me to play and love football. And now every time I play the game all I can think about is him. About how it all was." His eyes flashed to mine. "And then I think of my mom. About her laugh and her cooking and how I miss her every Goddamn day. And I go through the motions. Go through those last few days before she left. Wonder if I had paid more attention, looked up from my own fucking world, then maybe I would have noticed, would have been able to help her, make her stay. I mean—" Mason lifted a broken, glinting pair of eyes to me, "how could someone be so unhappy, so low and hopeless, that leaving her family, her son, seemed like the only way out. That day I smashed that mug, my dad had just phoned me, telling me that my mother, my mother who has been absent for the last four years, wants to see me. To speak to me. How," Mason spat, "how could she possibly think she could just jump back into my life like nothing has happened? Like I haven't already learnt to live without a mom and a barely-there dad and no—"
Mason broke off abruptly and I kept my eyes firm on his. Inside I was breaking, shattering, yearning to take away all his pain. But I couldn't. And he knew I couldn't. And I think that was what scared him most. That the only person who could truly take away his pain was him— and he didn't know how to.
He shook his head, tousled hair and pained eyes, and let out a low humorless laugh. "I don't love football. Not anymore. Because when I play, I think about what used to be and what isn't anymore, and it makes me sick. It's a physical game but all I can do is think. Think, think, think, and I swear, Rose, I sometimes feel like I'm going crazy. Like I'll never stop thinking and it'll never stop hurting, because that's all it does— it hurts and hurts and doesn't— ever— fucking— stop." Mason suddenly dropped his head, a choke breaking from his throat, and I was across the bed and pressing my palms to his feverish cheeks in a second.
"Hey," I said, my voice cracking, my eyes burning. "Hey."
I brought his head to my chest and he let me. I rested my chin against his soft hair and held his face firmly against me, my heart wrenching, twisting, gnarling in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from bursting into tears when I felt the slight dampness against my palms.
"It'll stop hurting," I croaked out. "It will. It will."
Mason was silent, his body quivering against mine, and then his arms snaked around my waist, pulling me tighter against him.
And we sat like that, with me holding his face like my life depended on it, and him holding my body like he might shatter if he were to let go.
~~~
Time blurred, seconds into minutes into hours, and it was when I felt myself dozing with my cheek pressed against Mason's head, our limbs still entangled, that I decided it was time for bed.
I caressed Mason's cheeks, knowing he was sleeping due to the sound of his even breaths, and gently lifted his head from my chest.
"Mason," I murmured, once again feeling an overwhelming pull towards the beautiful boy who had been covering up a world full of pain for too long.
Slowly, delicately, his eyelids fluttered open and his eyes slowly searched my face, taking in every inch of it, every angle and flaw and feature, before finding my eyes.
"We should go to sleep," I murmured softly.
Mason slowly nodded, looking somewhat dazed and so raw. Raw and exposed and a person I had never seen before.
"Stay with me," I breathed, skimming my fingertips down the side of his face. "Please."
Mason gazed at my face, his eyes threatening to melt me, before nodding again.
I leant forward to kiss his forehead, before gently untangling myself from his arms and pulling back the comforter. While I put my laptop on the bedside table, Mason toed off his shoes.
When I flipped the bedside light off, sending the room into darkness, we both slipped under the comforter and pulled it up over us. As though it were the most natural thing to do, Mason laid out his arm and I moved closer, letting my head rest against his chest and wrapping my other arm around his warm torso. He secured me closer by bringing the arm that was underneath me up and around my waist, his palm spreading heat through my hip.
There was so much to think about, to try and solve, to try and understand, to still discover- because, subconsciously, I knew the thing killing Mason was still trapped inside of him, unable to get out.
But that was okay. Because we had time. And he had me. And I had him.
And even if we were thousands of miles away from home, in a cold city, in a stranger's bed.
It was okay.
Because I was safe and I was warm and his lips were pressed against my forehead.
It was okay.
Because he had me and I had him.
~~~