An hour and a half later, Mason and I leant back in our seats, both filled with a tired relief. After Mason had made the tea, we decided to sit down and start the booklets, thinking they would take no more than thirty minutes.
We were filled with an irritated dejection when an hour rolled by and we had only just passed half way.
The books were filled with loads of stupid, personal and irrelevant questions which required answers that consisted of six lines each.
Mason and I worked through the booklets in a relatively civil manner. After what happened before, I think we both didn't really have the energy to pick another fight.
Thus, other than the one occurrence during the middle, the working process was altogether peaceful.
The only mishap was when we got to question eleven. The question asked us to 'Give an honest and detailed description of your partner with words in which you think describe his/her personality.'
But in all honestly? That one was just asking for trouble.
In all fairness to myself, I had tried to be mature, using words like 'strong-willed' and 'confident' to describe his difficult nature.
However maturity flew out of the window when I looked up from the tortuous task to see Mason smirking down at his page, writing words down in an easy manner.
Warily, I leaned over my book to see what was causing him such enjoyment. My eyes narrowed when I read his words and I turned my head up to glare at him.
He didn't notice though so I shoved him hard in the shoulder. Mason's head jerked up in surprise and his pen rolled off of the table onto the floor.
"What?" he snapped, slightly pissed.
I gestured at his paper angrily. "Stubborn? Dramatic? Talks way too much for own good? What the hell?"
Mason lifted a shoulder, eyeing me with a bored humour. "It says 'give an honest' description, see?" He underlined the word with his finger. "You can't expect me to lie."
I stared at him wordlessly before thinking screw it.
I gave him a helpless smile. "You're right."
In a swift motion I scratched out my pitiful attempts at kindness and wrote what I thought. Arrogant. Rude. Lacks maturity and any form of seriousness.
I looked up to see Mason narrowing his eyes at me. With a sweet smile I said, "You're right. Honesty is the best policy after all."
Anyway the moment finally did come and we both closed the stupid books in a fed up tiredness.
Mason groaned and ran both his hands through his hair, leaving the locks to stick up in random tufts, reminding me of a male peacock. I chuckled quietly to myself.
"What the hell was the point of all of that?" Mason asked irately. "We've been answering all of those damn questions for the entire year now."
I just shrugged. I didn't have an answer because he was right. It really had been a futile task.
"I swear if I get asked what the most difficult challenge I've lived through is, one more time, I will punch somebody." He grumbled, running a weary hand across his face.
Tired myself, I just watched him as he ranted, wondering idly what the most difficult challenge that he'd lived through was.
Somehow, I couldn't seem to find a problem in Mason Tanner's life. He seemed to have it all. A problem would be him having to choose a girl, out of the thousands, to go with to prom. I thought dryly. But then I frowned slightly.
I didn't even know the guy and was already casting him off with having a perfect life. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, mean even. But it was hard to hear the voice of reason in my head when all Mason Tanner had ever done was bully me.
I bit my lip, worried about my line of thoughts. Was Mason already having a negative effect on me?
Groaning inwardly, I sat up straight and folded my hands in my lap, a little too tightly. Looking around the room I suddenly realised for the first time how alone we were in the big house.
"Hey, where are your parents?" I asked, searching the kitchen as though they would suddenly materialise.
Mason shot me a glance before grabbing the mugs and standing up, taking them to the sink.
"Out." He replied shortly and I fought the urge to roll my eyes and reply with a 'Duh.'
Instead I just rolled my eyes. "I got that much."
Something in Mason's shoulders tightened and I frowned, wondering if I had crossed some kind of boundary.
"My dad's out at work. He'll only get back at six. My mum left us two years ago."
Mason spoke the words so nonchalantly and smoothly that he could have been reciting a grocery list.
And somehow in that moment, I knew Mason had slipped beneath a facade. Call it intuition, or whatever, but I had a sense that Mason wasn't as easy-going on the inside as the demeanor he was currently portraying.
However, I wasn't going to pry. Though I was surprised, surprised to find out that Mason only lived with his father. And there I had been thinking his world had no flaws. A wave of guilt rippled though my stomach.
I opened my mouth to say that I was sorry but stopped when I realised he probably wouldn't appreciate pity, especially when it was coming from me. So instead I just nodded and searched for something else to say.
Spotting a football resting in the corner of the room I asked, "So, how long have you been playing for?" I nodded my head towards the ball.
Mason followed my gaze and then looked back at me with something inkling in his eyes. Gratitude, I realised. But then it disappeared and was replaced with a comfortable look.
"Since I was old enough to hold a football. My dad had played at school and taught me from young." Mason answered casually. His back was to me as he rinsed off the mugs.
"I guess he kind of just assumed I would love it. And I did. We played a lot together when I was younger."
I watched Mason from my seat, wondering what had brought on the slight strain to his voice?
Maybe he just really didn't like talking to me.
I opened my mouth, suddenly feeling awkward in the moment of silence, but Mason beat me to it.
"It's late." He stated, glancing at the clock on the wall.
I followed his gaze and saw that it was quarter past five. I nodded slowly, catching his more than obvious hint. Not that I minded. It wasn't like I wanted to hang out and watch movies with the guy.
So I scooped up my bag and pushed myself from the table. "Yeah, I should probably go."
Mason nodded before standing up as well, and for a second it was pretty awkward as I silently put on my scarf and jacket again. My body had heated up after the second mug of tea, forcing me to strip off my layers earlier.
After another second Mason apparently got impatient with my dressing and left the room with an indistinguishable mutter. I walked after him with a roll of my eyes. He always had something to grumble about.
Stepping into the main foyer I became aware of the pressure in my bladder. I cleared my throat feeling slightly embarrassed to ask Mason where the bathroom was.
"Hey... um, where's your bathroom? I just need to go.... before, um- yeah, where is it?" I felt my cheeks redden at my clumsy words, and they only grew worse when that amused smirk appeared on Mason's face.
"Down that hall, second door on the right."
I nodded quickly, muttering a 'thanks' and left so that I wouldn't have to see Mason's humoured expression.
I followed his instructions as best as I could and I was finally relieved when I opened up the door to see a slick tiled, polished marble bathroom. Walking through his house was like walking through a maze. Everything was white, shiny, big and similar.
I was quick in the bathroom because, well, I didn't want Mason to start guessing what I was doing there. So I exited the room while drying my hands on my jeans and walked down the hallway trying to remember if I had to turn right or left to get back to the foyer. Unable to remember, I picked a random direction and started walking that way, however nothing looked familiar.
I spotted a door on my left and decided to open it, hoping that that foyer would magically appear behind it. But as soon as it creaked open I knew that it wasn't the door to the foyer. The first tip off being that as soon as I stepped through, I was instantly transported into darkness. Out of a curiosity I couldn't quite place, I hesitantly slid a hand over the wall on my right, trying to find a switch. My fingers eventually found the switch and I flipped it on, instantly lighting up the room with an orange glow.
My eyes widened in faint surprise when I took in my surroundings. I was in another hallway, surprise, surprise. This hallway was wider than the others however, almost as wide as a room. And instead of the bare and naked walls that ran all along the house, this one sported hundreds of different frames, all different shapes and sizes, and all holding a different photograph. They ran right down the wall and came to a stop three quarters through.
I took a hesitant step forward, knowing I should go back to Mason, but was also overcome with curiosity. Mason could wait a few more minutes, I told myself distantly. I stepped closer to the first photograph. It was in a small, round frame and held a black and white picture. In the picture held a young man and lady, both wearing big grins. The man's arm was slung casually over her shoulders and she had her head tilted slightly, looking at him with an adoring look, but it was the hint of humorous exasperation in her eyes that made me smile.
Just by looking at the set of the man's strong shoulders and the way in which his mouth curled up slightly at the corner in a familiar smirk, showed me that it was Mason's father. Like Mason, he was also very handsome, as much as I hated to admit it.
Whilst Mason's dad had dark hair, the girl, Mason's mum I assumed, had light flowing hair and light eyes that matched. Just like Mason. She was beautiful. My heart felt a pang while looking at the both of them. You had to be blind not to see the love they had for each other.
But then why would she leave? I wondered.
I took another step and my eyes swept along the photos. It was more of Mason's parents, slowly evolving from black and white to colour. There were more casual photos like before, one at the beach, another in a bowling alley, one randomly perched against an old red car, which then turned to wedding photos, their honeymoon, and then in the hospital with Mason's mum looking pale and tired in bed, but wearing a look of such love and joy that I couldn't help but smile. Her arms were curved around a small child, and then there was Mason's father, perched on the side of the bed, one arm around his wife while the other rested on his baby.
I realised then that it was Mason when reading the little inscription at the bottom of the photograph. 'Mason is born!' I moved on feeling captivated by the family's story, because that's what it was, a story. The photos moved in a chronological order and I wondered who had been the person to set this all up. Mason's mother? Father? The whole family?
The pictures all suddenly became focused on one person. A person with a round adorable little face, a shock of blond hair, and light shining eyes that resembled two little suns. Mason, of course. He started to consume all of the pictures, one of the first being him in a baby grow, tucked firmly in his mother's arms and smiling a big, toothless smile.
I stopped when I found myself staring at a picture of Mason's mother, who was sporting a giant belly. I frowned... was she pregnant? I quickly skipped to where Mason's mother was lying in a hospital bed again and there underneath the photo read 'Sarah is born!'
I frowned again, utterly confused. Why would-
"What the hell are you doing?"
A small scream leapt from my lips and I jumped a meter into the air. I quickly spun around and found myself staring at a very, very angry Mason. I ran a shaky hand through my hair and swallowed.
"I'm sorry, I got lost -"
"Obviously." Mason snarled and I flinched at the tone in his voice.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled, trying very hard not to look at the ground. "I shouldn't have pried, I had no right-"
"No." Mason barked, his eyes raging. "You didn't. And yet there you were, up in other peoples business again. God, could you give it a break?"
I bit my tongue hard, forcing away the sudden lash of hurt.
"I'm sorry." I muttered uselessly. What more could I do?
I waited tensely, waited for him to blow up and scream at me and call me a horrible person. But it never came. Instead, in a low, almost incomprehensible voice, Mason muttered, "Just get out."
And so I did. I moved quickly down the hallway, past all of the photographs and past Mason's tense body. He didn't acknowledge me when I shifted past him, instead he just stared ahead, jaw set and eyes as hard as if they had frozen into dark stones of amber.
I swallowed and bit my lip, wishing I had never entered the stupid room.
So without so much as a goodbye, I left the house, walking into the blistering cold wind and marching across to my little car. I gave the house one more look before pulling out of the driveway and getting myself back onto the main road, suddenly just wanting to be home.
And as I drove away from Mason and his grand house, I knew that I had definitely misjudged him. His world wasn't as flawless as I'd thought. Mason had secrets like everybody else. And now I'd just gone and pissed him off right before we'd be spending three months together.
I sighed.
Good going Pierce.
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