I am SO SO sorry that I have taken so long to update. I have absolutely no excuses, but I've tried to make it up by giving you guy's two chapters instead of one this time.
Yeah- TWO. Chapter 27 AND 28.
I hope I'm forgiven. Anyway read away and enjoy!
~~~
It was Friday, the day of the ball. And the school was in a frenzy. Decorations were hanging off of the walls, the ceilings, the doors- all proudly gloating a theme of The Great Gatsby. It wasn't entirely creative, with the white feathers boas and strings of pearls appearing slightly typical, but who was I to judge? Last year, the theme at our school had been A Starry, Starry Night.
However, the excitement in the air was palpable, and the blanks faces and silence that usually accompanied breakfast in the morning was replaced with energised expressions and a constant chatter.
The anticipation was contagious, hearing girls joke about not being able to walk in heels and guys kid about spiking the punch, and all in all, I realised that Mason had been right. I was happy that I'd be spending my last day and night here in such a positive spirit.
As I made my way to my first class, my mind slowed slightly as I thought of Mason.
Mason had been acting weird. Period. Ever since the talent show he had been off and I assumed it was because of what I had almost said, something I was still kicking myself about and majorly regretting. Seriously, what had I been thinking? I had been high off of adrenalin and relief and had mistaken those emotions for my feelings towards Mason.
God, if I could go back and take back the words that had left my mouth on a whim of emotion, I would. But I couldn't. And now, I was terrified that I had screwed things up between us.
And if the look of shock on Mason's face hadn't been a big enough indication, him abruptly leaving the show and not calling or messaging or even seeing me afterwards was.
I went back to my room feeling humiliated and upset, and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that night, my thoughts curdling with worry. What if I had scared him away? Made myself look desperate and over-attached?
The guy already had a ton of family issues, adding me to the equation- the person who had nearly told him that she loved him after only three months of properly getting to know him- definitely wouldn't help.
I dreaded seeing Mason the next day, dreaded that he would avoid me and shut me out- and my panic only grew worse as twelve o'clock ticked by, one, two- with nothing to distract myself but my own spinning thoughts.
However, the next morning, I discovered that staring at the ceiling for six hours straight had been a colossal waste of time. Because Mason had greeted me with his usual smile and witty remark, leaning up against my locker like nothing at all had happened the night before.
I had walked up to him hesitantly, wondering if I had to explain what had gone down the night before, try and rectify the situation, but was stumped by his easy grin and normality. I wanted to question why he had left so abruptly after the show, but the question lumped in my throat, and cowardly I let it go.
If he was prepared to act like nothing at all had happened, then I definitely wasn't going to be the person to bring it up. I still had a little pride left intact. Thus, we went on normally with the day, as well as the days following that, without any mention again of what I had nearly, stupidly, blurted out.
However, that didn't stop the continuous nagging in the back of my mind that something was wrong.
And that something was Mason.
He had kept up his light, easy demeanour, retorting sarcastic remarks like it was his job- but there was something off. And I didn't know what it was- but it was there.
Maybe it was the slightly distant look he'd been wearing in his eyes, or the tug of his lips into a smile that seemed slightly strained, or his kisses that seemed to be shorter than usual, like he was in a constant rush.
And this weird behaviour only seemed to be growing worse by the day. Each day a little more distant, a little less cheerful, and I felt like I was missing something. Surely it wasn't due to me nearly blurting out those three crucial words last Friday? Had Mason's whole attempt at normality been a façade? Had he only pretended to be okay with what had happened?
I sighed as I entered the classroom. I was getting tired with my own thoughts, constantly jumping from one stressful scenario to the other. I needed to calm down and stop reading so much into things. I needed to stop being so sensitive. Mason was probably fine and I was probably just exaggerating, acting pathetic and anxious for no reason at all.
I took a breath and put a smile on my face as my eyes instantly moved to where Mason sat.
My smile slipped when I realised that the seat was empty.
I frowned slightly, but moved to my seat anyway, conscious of the ringing bell that indicated the start of class. I groaned internally at the thought of a whole hour of Biology. Especially with Mason who loved to gloat about his science knowledge, answering every question before sending me a furtive glance, knowing his smirk made me want to hit him.
However, we were ten minutes into the lesson now and I hadn't had the urge to hit anything, purely because Mason hadn't come to class yet. Which was strange and uncharacteristic of him, however I passed it off, presuming that he had overslept or something.
But after twenty, twenty-five, thirty minutes passed, all of which I spent subconsciously glancing at the door ever couple of seconds, I was starting to doubt Mason attending class at all. Where was he? Was he sick? Maybe that was why he'd been acting so strange of late? He could have just been coming down with something and I had totally misinterpreted it as a personal detachment from me.
It surprised me how much I missed his presence, despite his cockiness in class, and I thought about quickly running down to the sanatorium after class to see if he was there. However, as I began making the mental calculations in my head about how quickly I could get to the san and back in time for class, Mason himself walked through the door, and my thoughts fell away.
My lips automatically pulled up into a small smile, glad to see him even if he was forty minutes late. But a second later, when my gaze settled and zeroed in on Mason's face, my smile swiftly fell.
Mason looked... haggard.
I watched in slight shock as the teacher addressed him.
"Class is nearly finished Mr Tanner. Why are you so late?"
I assumed that he would have just responded with some clever excuse, charm dripping from his words, and then gotten off with a quick apology. As per usual. The effect he had on teachers was infuriating.
However, Mason took me by shock once again when he simply shrugged in response.
My eyes scanned his face. His eyes were dull and red, accentuated by bags which looked like dark bruises under each one. The exhaustion on his face was blatant and I wondered if he had slept at all last night. This was only enforced by the ashy pallor to his skin, his face a ghostly white which gave him a slight hollowness to his cheeks. Was he sick?
"Is that it?" The teacher responded, his eyes narrowing. "Is that all you have to say?"
The look on Mason's face, so uninterested, so... distant, caused a swirl of worry to move through me.
"Yeah." He replied flatly.
The teacher pursed his lips. "Well in that case, you can leave as you entered."
Mason simply rolled his eyes, before turning and exiting the classroom again, muttering a "whatever" under his breath.
I stared after him in shock, not knowing who I had just seen back there. The class broke out into conversation after Mason left, all sending furtive glances my way as though I had the answers to Mason's sudden change of behaviour.
However, I didn't have a clue what was up with Mason. And that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
I raised my hand.
"Could I please go to the bathroom?"
I rushed through the door, my eyes sweeping down the hallway, before I spotted Mason at the far end, his head down and fists deep in his pockets.
"Mason!" I called.
He stopped, and I watched as his shoulders lifted and then fell again, as though he had taken a breath. He turned slowly to face me.
I was already walking towards him, my eyes taking in his dishevelled state, his hair that was tussled more than usual, as though he hadn't even bothered to run a hand through it, let alone a brush.
As I reached him, an almost non-existent smile tugged at his lips, and I found myself thinking that even despite his current state, Mason was still undeniably handsome.
"Hey." I said gently, looking up into his red-rimmed eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Peachy."
I sighed, familiar and weary of his aloofness.
"Mason tell what's wrong." I pleaded, looping my fingers around his wrist. It was cold.
Mason shrugged his one shoulder, his eyes slightly hooded and his half smile becoming strained.
"Nothing's wrong Pierce. I promise, I'm all goo-"
A buzzing from Mason's pocket interrupted his speech, and I let out a small sigh before crossing my arms.
"You can answer." I said.
"It's okay. I'm talking to you." He replied, before slipping a hand into his pocket and turning his phone on silent.
I raised an eyebrow before shaking my head and getting back to my point.
"You look ill Mason." I argued, looking over his exhausted features. My eyebrows furrowed in concern at his washed-out colour, clenched jaw, tight mouth.
Mason sighed, and turned his head to the side, obviously uncomfortable with my intent gaze on him.
"I'm fine." He insisted, his tone becoming slightly sharper.
"Fine?" I repeated. "You look like death, came to class forty minutes late, and just acted like Mr-Freaking-Bad-Boy bad back there."
"Thanks for the cross examination."
"I'm being serious Mason-"
"And so am I." He snapped, his eyes darkening. He pulled his hand out of my own.
"I said I'm fine so leave it."
He let out a sharp breath lined with irritation and flickered his eyes towards me, appearing somewhat detached.
"Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get to my next class before I show any more 'bad boy' tendencies."
I recoiled as he turned.
What the hell?
"Mason." My voice came out rigid, disbelief colouring it slightly.
He stopped again with his back to me, spine straight and head facing foreword.
"What?"
I winced at his biting tone and angrily opened my mouth to throw back an equally snappy reply.
However, nothing came out.
I could see what Mason was doing, attempting to allure me into an argument instead of having to confess his feelings. It was a typical trait of his, so I took a breath and forced myself not to rise to his bait. I didn't want to fight with him.
"I'm just worried about you." I said steadily. "I'm not trying to make you angry, I just... I just don't know what's wrong."
I cringed when I heard my voice catch at the end. Mason heard it too. Because he then exhaled and ran a hand through his messy hair, before turning to face me again.
I was relieved to see that his eyes had softened considerably.
"I couldn't sleep much last night." Mason confessed, wrapping his arms around his chest with a slight shrug. "I then overslept this morning and didn't feel like explaining myself to that asshole back there. That's it. There's nothing wrong with me, thus nothing for you to worry about."
The reassuring smile he gave me looked like it hurt.
I prevented a sigh, a groan, an accusatory shout that he was lying. Because he was. He was lying, and I wasn't sure whether I was more concerned or angry about it. However, as I had learnt from the last three months, Mason wasn't one to be pushed. It was a tedious and futile task that usually ended up effecting me more than it did him.
So I took a breath, my body a conflict of emotions ranging from concern to anger to affection, before I took a step closer to him.
Gently I reached my hands up to cup Mason's face, aware of his steady eyes on mine, and softly, I stroked the discoloured rings under his eyes with my thumbs. Almost against his own stubborn will, Mason's eyes closed briefly, and the weight of his head became more evident in my hands when he tilted it forward, letting it rest momentarily in my palms.
We stayed like that for a moment, with me gently caressing his face and Mason's breaths becoming slow and even, when I murmured, "You know you've got me, right?"
Mason didn't respond instantly, but then slowly he forced his eyes open again, only to stare into my own. I took in his amber coloured iris's, noting the darker shade of them, the redness rimming them, indicating a lack of sleep.
His chest lifted and fell before he said back, his voice slightly hoarse, "Yeah. Yeah I know."
However, while watching Mason's retreating figure, I found myself wondering if him knowing actually mattered at all.
~~~
I entered our room, Molly in tow, with a heavy sigh and threw my bag onto the bed.
"Well you've officially finished your schooling at Prescott Academy- how do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a moving van." I grumbled, falling back onto the mattress. "Seriously? Couldn't they have cut me some slack seeing as I'm leaving tomorrow? I wrote three Goddamn essays today."
Molly flashed me a bright smile before pulling a sweater over her head.
"Why do you think the British are so intellectual?"
I leant back against the wall. "Propaganda?"
She pulled her hair out of the ponytail it was in. "I'm sensing some discrimination."
"You stereotyped me as the chick from Wild Child on my first day here." I pointed out.
She beamed. "And look how far we've come."
I chuckled as Molly lay down on the bed, knees bent in the air, and phone in her hands.
She fixed me with a knowing look before glancing down at the screen.
"Anyway- we both know it isn't the workload that's been bothering you today."
I snapped my eyes to Molly's, however her blue orbs were transfixed with whatever she was scrolling through.
"What?"
She glanced up at me. "I know you're obviously worried about Mason, Rose. You've been showing it all day. Which is understandable because he looked like shit today- what's up with him?"
I stared at her for a second before dropping my gaze to my legs. I wasn't aware that I had been so obvious with my concern for Mason today, but I suddenly felt relieved that Molly has also noticed his out of the norm appearance and behaviour. At least I wasn't the only one.
I let out a sigh, realising that talking about it wouldn't do any harm.
"I don't know what's wrong with him. I tried to talk to him this morning but he blocked me out and totally avoided the subject, claiming he was fine."
I rolled my eyes. "Which he clearly isn't."
Molly frowned, fingers still lazily swiping at her screen. "Where was he at lunch today?"
I shrugged and let my head rest heavily against the wall. "Who the hell knows."
He also didn't pitch to his last two lessons, according to Nate and JT who shared classes with him.
I hadn't seen him at all since our talk this morning in the corridor, and despite calling him three times, Mason was still nowhere to be seen. With 6 hours until the dance, and less than a day until we were leaving, one couldn't deny that Mason had the worst timing when it came to having a personal meltdown.
"I'm sure he's fine." Molly offered, shifting slightly on her side to face me. "Maybe he doesn't want to leave tomorrow?"
I bit my lip in contemplation. I knew that Mason didn't have the best home life with his slightly screwed up family dynamics, but I couldn't believe he was dreading going home that much. Not enough for him to miss class and walk around like someone had just died. It was way out of character for him, and the fact that I still hadn't discovered what was wrong with him was beginning to eat away at me.
"Maybe." I muttered, unconvinced.
"I can't believe you guys really are leaving tomorrow."
I glanced up at Molly, hearing the slight shift of tone in her voice. She had her gaze settled on the floor, her hair cascading across her cheek.
"I know." I murmured, thinking back to the first day when I had woken up to her clear British voice, battling to remember my name. "It's all gone so quickly."
Molly pouted. "I don't want you guys to to go."
I laughed at her childish gesture.
"Aren't you excited to see Annabel again?" I questioned, referring to the girl I had swopped with for three months.
She responded by rolling her eyes. "Yeah, of course, but that doesn't mean I was to see you leave."
My mom's highly used phrase 'all good things must come to an end' flowed through my mind, and I let out a sigh.
"I don't want to leave you guys either."
I thought about not hearing Molly's playful voice calling me 'USA', or not seeing JT's constant, self-assured smile, or not being able to watch a game of Rugby or take a weekend trip to London.
I would miss it all so much that a sudden wave of emotion had me biting my lips to restrain the tears that were threatening to fall.
Attempting to get a hold of myself, I let out a sharp exhale and shook myself from the dampening feelings.
"We still have tonight though." I stated brightly, wanting to pull Molly out of the melancholic mood that had suddenly appeared within the room. "Let's focus on that instead."
Molly glanced up at me before she too let out a short gust of air and pulled herself into a sitting position. "You're right. No point on moping about now."
She moved aside slightly, her eyes already brighter. "Come here, let's see what we're going to do with your hair."
Molly, who had a fetish for turning people into Barbie dolls, had offered to do my hair and make-up for the dance, and I had accepted with indifference. I wasn't too bothered about it, with my my focuse rather on Mason and leaving the next day, and accepted Molly's offer more to indulge her than myself.
I raised an eyebrow. "We have like- five hours until the dance."
"Are you getting to your point?"
"It is not going to take five hours to do my hair." I replied flatly.
Her blue eyes rolled. "It's just experimenting- humour me. I mean, it's a better alternative than sitting around all day worrying about your lover boy."
I looked down at my phone screen and stared at the two unanswered messages.
"Okay fine." I conceded, and in a spontaneous act of defiance against my conscience, which was currently urging me to go out and look for Mason and not stop until I found him, I swiped the power button off and watched as the screen went black.
I ignored the apprehension that settled uncomfortably in my stomach through doing so.
~~~
I gazed at my reflection's finished product in the mirror, eyes bigger and darker as they swept over my features.
I wasn't suddenly looking at brand new person nor was I realising my profound beauty for the very first time- my flaws were all still intact and I was still me- however I was just a little shiner around the edges now.
Molly had proven herself once again in the beauty department, fixing me with smoky eyes and a deep shade of red lipstick that matched my dress. She put my hair up into a messy yet sophisticated looking up-do, which exposed my neck and framed my face with loose hanging tendrils.
I turned away from the mirror to see Molly shimmying her own dress on. She eventually did find a dress, surprisingly with the help of JT. After the guys had finished buying their suits, JT had offered to continue looking with Molly for her dress, while the rest of us went to get coffees.
Em and I had protested, feeling bad about leaving Molly, but she had insisted that she didn't mind, giving us the hint that she actually wanted some quality time with him. They proved to be successful however, as an hour later, the two arrived back with an extra shopping bag and a beaming smile on Molly's face.
My eyes widened as I saw the dress on Molly for the first time, marvelling at the way the black, skin tight fabric accentuated her body's graceful lines. It was long-sleeved and like mine, floor length, with a high straight neck line. She had curled her usually straight hair so that it fell in loose, jet black waves down her back and her make-up was flawless.
Molly's eyes, which were a shocking shade of blue, met mine and she grinned.
"You look amazing."
"Me?" I questioned, sweeping my gaze down her attire. "You look amazing! JT's going to be drooling the entire night."
Molly smirked, before stepping forward to adjust a curl that had come loose from my hair.
"Thank you." I added, watching her bright eyes narrow with concentration. "For the hair and make-up- I love it."
"No problem." She said breezily, and then stepped back to assess my face. She smiled with approval before turning around to grab her clutch from the bed. "You ready to head? The boys are probably waiting for us by now."
I nodded, and tried to ignore the seed of anxiety which had formed at the mention of 'the boys.' With it came thoughts of Mason, and due to his behaviour today, I was beginning to wonder on whether or not he'd actually show up tonight. I had pushed him and his affairs out of my mind for the remainder of the day, convincing myself that Mason was alright, but now he was all I could think about.
Molly flicked off the light and we both stepped out of the room and made our way down to the foyer where we had all agreed to meet up. Anxiety was simmering within me, and so I focused on my heeled feet instead, counting each step as though they were important.
I held my breath as we stepped into the open room, sweeping my eyes over the figures; JT, Chris, Emily, Nate and his partner- but as I had predicted, Mason was nowhere to be seen.
My heart pulsed heavily with disappointment, and with it came feelings of emptiness and worry. I didn't even have the capacity to feel rejection in that moment.
I faltered in my steps, sweeping the room with my eyes again as though Mason was just hiding and would suddenly jump out and show himself.
I watched as Molly hugged JT, watched as he whispered something into her ear causing her to chuckle, and swallowed at the dryness of my throat. I distantly noticed everybody attires, the shimmering beauty of Emily, the boyish good looks of Nate in his navy suit, Chris's hair which was neater than I had ever seen it. However, my growing panic prevented me from appreciating any of my glammed up friends, and so a little desperately, I cut my gaze to JT, hoping to get some answers.
He was already making his way towards me, his expression teetering between a smile and pity. I tried to bite back my annoyance.
"You look beautiful Rose." JT complimented upon reaching me.
"Thanks." I mumbled, attempting a smile. However, I quickly cut to the chase.
"Do you know where he is?"
JT's shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh. It appeared that Mason's absence had been playing on his mind too.
"No idea."
If possible, my stomach dropped further. I pursed my lips though and tried to keep my face neutral.
"Have you seen him at all today?"
Again, JT shook his head. "Not since my second class with him this morning, and he didn't pitch to our last two periods. I tried looking for him after school down at the fields, thought he might be tossing a ball around or something, but he wasn't there either."
JT's warm brown eyes met my owen, his mouth firm and straight. "Did he say anything to you? Is something going on?"
The question sparked a feeling of anger within me simply because the answer was a no. I had no idea what was wrong with Mason, and I was beginning to think that perhaps I didn't know him at all. And perhaps I never would.
"He hasn't said anything to me." My gaze fell to the floor and I wrapped my arms around my body, feeling a chill slowly run its way through my bones.
What had I missed? I racked my brain, eyes planted on the tiled floor, and tried to think if Mason had mentioned anything in the last couple of days that could give me an indication to his sudden behaviour.
Maybe I had gotten it wrong. Maybe his strangeness of late had nothing to do with me and what I had nearly said to him, but rather a different issue altogether. One of those many 'issues' that Mason couldn't seem to share, no matter how hard I pushed.
I bit my lip. Was he fighting with his dad? Was Molly right? Was he dreading leaving because he had to see his father again? And if so, why hadn't he mentioned it to me?
"I'm here!"
I whipped my head around to see Mason jogging into the room, clad in a suit, and a loose grin on his face.
"No need to cry any longer- Mason Tanner has arrived."
I stared at Mason in shock and relief, as he ran a hand through his barely kept hair.
"Dude!" JT had already marched up to Mason.
"Where the fuck have you been?" He demanded, simultaneously punching Mason in the arm.
"Hey!" Mason exclaimed, bringing a hand up gingerly to rub his bicep. However, it couldn't have hurt that much judging by the sloppy grin on his face. "Calm down there 007."
JT ignored the snub, knowing Mason was poking fun at his bowtie, and crossed his arms.
"Seriously though mate, where have you been all day?"
I hadn't said anything yet, standing in a guarded silence as I watched Mason closely. There was something off about his gestures, his speech. There was a freeness to them that was unfamiliar. A looseness to his grin, a flush to his cheeks.
His expression then lit up mischievously, his mouth and eyes holding a certain slackness to them.
"Oh, 'round and about, here and there. You know how it is."
JT stared blankly at Mason and despite myself, I rolled my eyes. This was typical Mason, acting all clever and evasive and annoying as hell, and it was clear JT hadn't been exposed to this side of him yet.
Unfortunately, I had been, and so I stepped forward to intervene, noting the lack of Mason's usual collectiveness.
"Are you drunk?"
I already knew he was, or at the least tipsy, but I wanted him to confirm it, to confirm my brewing anger. To admit that while we had all been stressing about Mason's whereabouts, he'd been off getting pissed. God knows where he found the alcohol.
Mason's lazy, lit-up gaze dragged its way towards me, his mouth already opening with a response. However, his arrogant expression faltered when his gaze met mine and I suddenly wondered if he had known I was in the room at all.
His blazed eyes swept over my done-up face before they slowly grazed down my body, as if he were oblivious to our audience. My anger momentarily dissipated underneath his hot gaze and it was all I could do to keep my chin up.
"Uh... so I think we'll probably head." Molly suddenly spoke up, her eyes shooting between Mason, myself and JT. "You guys can catch up with us."
I nodded and Mason barely gave the others a glance as they left the foyer.
Gaining some self-control, I opened my mouth to interrogate Mason, but he beat me to it.
"You look ridiculously hot right now." His eyes darkened while his voice lowered, moving though the air like dense honey.
I swallowed, cursing myself at the effect his words had on me. However, when he took a step towards me, his movement slightly swayed, I found some will.
"And you look drunk." I repeated, taking a step back from his advances. "Why?"
Mason let out a dramatic sight before pushing a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "I'm not drunk. I'm just happy to see you, is all."
He broke out into a disarming grin, his face somewhat aloof. "You see?" He pointed at his lips. "I'm drunk off of happiness."
I curled my fist into balls, starting to feel hot from the rage that was boiling within me.
"Cut it out." My voice could have cut glass. "I've been worrying about you all day Mason- where the hell have you been? Did you get my messages? My calls?"
Mason was still the epitome of ease, his eyes regarding me from a distance. Not a physical distance, but an emotional one. Like he was too far gone to care about what I had to say, too far gone to care about anything.
"Yeah, I got them."
He tilted his head, lips pursed casually, as though he were challenging me to ask him why he hadn't replied. Challenging me to play the role of the clingy, over-protective girlfriend.
I bit down on my lip, hard enough to taste blood.
We stared at each other, me in a silent fury, Mason with a calculated calmness.
We stayed like that for a minute, and just before I'd had enough and turned to leave him standing there like a drunken idiot, Mason's face collapsed and his hands dropped to his sides.
A look of weariness took over his face and I got the feeling that he didn't have the energy anymore to hold up whatever 'I don't give a shit' pretence he was attempting to portray.
He looked at me then, and I suddenly felt tearful at the position we were in.
"Please don't be mad with me." His voice was quiet, defeated.
I swallowed, averting my eyes to the floor, wishing I could scream "do you think I want to be mad at you? Do you think I'm fucking enjoying this?".
However, I didn't trust my voice, so instead in a pathetic whisper I said, "Why shouldn't I be?"
I glanced upwards to see Mason's own gaze drop. He was quiet, almost contemplating, before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver flask, obviously his source of liquor for the night. He then walked across the room and set it down on the window sill, his hand lingering slightly, but he stepped away.
He then moved towards me, and I didn't step back this time, watching him carefully as his hooded gaze met mine. When he was in front of me and I was able to look up at him, I was hit with the sharp scent of alcohol. I retrained myself from wincing.
"Because I don't want to fight with you." Mason uttered out, his cheek bones sharp in the overhanging lights.
"Not here, not now." His eyes pleaded with my own, but his expression remained fathomless.
I was so utterly confused, and still so angry. But I was also tired. Overwhelmingly tired.
The kind of tired brought on by stress and hurt and concern and dejection. The kind of tired that sleep couldn't fix. The kind of tired that forced me to yield to Mason's blurry but bright gaze, and accept that this was as close to an apology or explanation that I would get.
Thus with a reluctant and resigned sigh, I nodded before slipping my arm around his. With buried feelings, I mumbled a quiet, "Okay."
For a second, I stupidly hoped that he would respond back with his own 'okay' and then make another lame attempt at a corny joke, just for old times sake. Just for the reassurance that the Mason I knew hadn't completely vanished.
But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all.