An hour later, I am stepping out of the shower, still angry at myself for getting in it in the first place.
What happened to not getting dressed up for him? What happened to being in control? Do the words 'spineless' and 'jellyfish' mean anything to you?
I ignore the questions in my head as I turn to look at what to wear tonight; deciding on a pair of jeans and a green halter top with my favourite ankle boots. Simple and casual. I almost want to high-five myself for not putting in too much effort.
But then I have to acknowledge the fact that I shouldn't be putting in any effort at all.
I line my dark brown eyes with liner and then sweep some mascara across my lashes, finishing off the look with pale pink lip gloss before starting to blow dry my hair.
Which by the way, isn't putting in effort because it's wet from the shower and I don't want to go out and catch pneumonia because of damp hair.
Oh who am I kidding?
I glance at my watch again. It's now twenty past six and Mason is nowhere in sight.
I don't know why I am surprised. I don't think Mason has ever been on time for anything in his life. The man would probably be late for his own funeral.
I also don't know why I am standing on the sidewalk like a loner as I wait for him. I could be in the comfort of my apartment. Instead, I awkwardly shift my feet and pretend to be interested in something on my phone.
Yes, the picture on my home screen of me, Alexa and Hailee is very fascinating.
Just then a black Mercedes pulls up next to me and Mason steps out of it. "Sorry I'm late Di, you know how it is."
Well, no I don't, actually. As excuses go, it's a pretty poor one. In fact, it's non-existent. But I just nod my head slightly as he gestures towards the passenger door and climbs back in his car.
I get in and glance around the leather exterior. The inside is spotless, not a wrapper or piece of clothing anywhere in sight. Completely different to the truck he drove when we were teenagers. I can remember all the times I had to push rubbish off the seat just so I could sit down.
Maybe he has changed since then?
"I'm glad you came." He smiles warmly at me and reverses the car, pulling back onto the road.
I just nod again. If he thinks it's weird that I haven't said a word yet, he doesn't say so.
I guess he's used to my silence by now.
"I can't believe how different you look, Di." He smirks as he changes gears. "But good different."
I blame you. You were the one who made me so self-conscious about my weight.
"Thanks," I mumble, staring at the road. "Where are we going?"
"My favourite café." He turns right and then almost immediately left, before pulling into a parking space outside a small building with the words 'A Latte Coffee' emblazoned on the front in bold, white letters.
Hailee would love this place just for the name alone.
We walk towards the Café together and I am careful to keep some distance between us. I don't want to get too close to the warmth that always radiates off him.
Once inside I glance around, and it is not the kind of place I would have expected Mason to choose. Its cosy interior is coloured with creams and pastel colours, blackboards line the walls declaring the specials, the tables are metal with glass tops.
There's no tablecloths, fancy menus or ridiculously expensive paintings hanging anywhere. Which is usually the kind of place that Mason favours.
"So Di, what do you feel like?" He looks at the blackboard, the lists of different coffees written in chalk.
I glance at them and one in particular catches my eye. "Hmm that coconut and caramel latte sounds pretty good."
His nose wrinkles in distaste. "Do you have any idea how many calories are in that thing? How about a cappuccino instead?"
I want to argue but I can't seem to find it in myself, so I just shrug. I am so used to Mason ordering for me or telling me what he thinks is best. I know I should stand up for myself and order what I really want. But his personality is so strong, especially compared to mine, and he always seems to get his way.
Screw the cappuccino. I need to order a back bone, and quick.
He places our order with a passing waitress, electing to have the same as me. And then he turns back in my direction, his mega-watt smile almost blinding my poor corneas. "So what are you doing with yourself these days?"
"I am currently working at Statton High as the guidance councillor, and studying to get my Master's degree in Psychology."
"Psychology?" He asks as though the word is foreign to him.
"Yes. I just recently got one for counselling, but I wanted to take it further." It's a decision I had thought long and hard over.
At twenty-four I had been hoping my days of studying were long behind me. But after my coursework and internship were over and I got my qualification, I found myself wanting to do more.
I wanted to help people, maybe have my own practice one day.
"I never would have thought you would go into that, Di." Mason's face is a mask of confusion.
Why? Because I used to let you control me?
"Well, you weren't really interested in what I wanted to do with my life back then." I'm actually quite impressed at myself for saying that. Although, it has no relevance to our current conversation. In school, I wanted to become a Reflexologist and take after my mother.
But that was before Mason changed my life.
His eyes darken in annoyance, but he recovers quickly. "Let's not dredge up the past. Let's just enjoy our evening shall we?"
Ah deflection; Mason's number one weapon. Apart from that annoyingly perfect smile.
The waitress finally returns with our cappuccinos and places them in front of us. I don't miss the flirtatious smile she shoots in Mason's direction, one that he returns without hesitation.
"What about you?" I ask him, genuinely curious. At school there had been much speculation about what Mason would do once he graduated. The opportunities for someone like him were endless.
"Well I went to Northbridge, which you probably remember." I try not to flinch at those words. "And did my degree in Finance. I now work at Global Bank as the Branch Manager."
For some reason, I had expected, I don't know, more I guess? I had assumed Mason would be famous or have his own business or something like that.
His parents had literally handed everything to him on a silver platter and he had been the school's golden boy. He was so good at everything; academics, sports, breaking hearts et-cetera. And now he was working at a bank?
That seemed like an anti-climax.
But then, who am I to judge?
"I'm the youngest Branch Manager the company has ever had," he boasts, taking a sip of his drink.
"Well done," I try to sound enthusiastic. I'm not exactly sure what else he wants me to say. Good for you?Congratulations? The company is lucky to have you?
Oh Mason, you over achieving wonder child perhaps?
"Thanks Di." He reaches over and pats my hand softly, almost like I am a dog who has performed well for its master.
Which to him, I probably am.
I force a smile on my face, tempted to ask the waitress if they serve tequila. I have to make do with my coffee instead, which doesn't do much to calm my racing thoughts.
Mason starts talking about how his life has been since high school, not needing any prompts from me. He tells me about his friends at University
How his parents had bought yet another country house. How important his job at the bank is.
I just sit, nursing my coffee which is slowly going cold. He doesn't even need any input from me, taking my silence as an urge to keep talking.
Ah, just like old times.
Although if I am being completely fair, I can't really blame him for that. Mason is just one of those people whose personalities are larger than life; Mr Popular himself. And I am just the wallflower he happened to notice in the library one day, one who shrinks into themselves when they are uncomfortable.
My doormat personality doesn't help with that either.
I realize he is looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. "Sorry Mason what was that?"
"Another one?" he asks pointing at my now empty coffee cup, I hadn't even realised I had finished it.
"Um no thanks, I should actually get going."
I need to get away from him while I still have some semblance of will-power. I have to stop seeing that adorable smile that turns me to mush if I'm going to make it out of this unscathed.
While Mason has talked the sky has turned from a pale grey to an inky black, the stars shining brightly like diamonds scattered on velvet.
"Okay," he nods and throws a bill on the table, ignoring my offer to pay for my own. "I always pay for my date," he smirks.
"Is this a date?" I question. I honestly hadn't thought it was, when he asked me for coffee he had mentioned that it was just a catch up.
I don't even remember him asking me if I was actually single. What if I had a boyfriend? Who smiles flirtatiously at other girls while they are on dates?
All questions that go unanswered.
He reaches for my hand as we stand up and leave the coffee shop. "The first of many I hope."
I want to pull away but I can't. My will-power has officially slithered down to the floor and is about to be run over by Mason's car. Something about the warmth of his hand in mine again brings me back to the good times we had.
And we had so many. It wasn't all bad with him. It really wasn't. I had been so happy to be his girlfriend back then, to be on his arm.
To be wanted by him.
Although I was never really sure that he loved me, I knew that he definitely cared about me. On the other hand, I had loved him, possibly too much.
And you never forget your first.
We get back in the car and he drives me home, placing a soft kiss on my cheek before I get out. I close the door behind me and watch as he speeds away again, clutching a hand to my cheek like the love struck teenager I've clearly reverted back to.
My dignity has fled in shame. My will-power is a mangled mess on the road.
I'm back to being starry eyed over Mason Hayworth, grateful that he would even look in my direction.
Well, shit. That didn't take long.