"Miss Woods." I hear the professor snap and I flinch.
"Sorry, I'm listening." I lie.
"Then you won't have any trouble telling me what I was just telling the class." he raises his eyebrow at me and by this time all eyes are on me. Jess didn't show up to class today so I have nowhere to turn to.
"Miss Woods? I'm sure you can repeat what I said, since you were listening so intently." he says with a smug look on his face. Actually, no I can't because I wasn't listening to a single thing you said since I was fantasising about my makeout session with my friend last night, and how I'm going to ask him what dangerous shit he's into hoping we can talk about it without losing whatever we have.
I clear my throat, "Um, something about sterilisation?" I mutter, knowing I'm wrong.
"Miss Woods if you aren't going to pay attention in this class, I would strongly advise you drop out." he snaps and I don't know what to say.
"Sorry." I sigh. He's so frustrating.
"As I was saying, the signs of noticing hypoxia are things such as confusion - due to lack of oxygen to the brain, hallucinations, reduced levels of consciousness and pulmonary hypertension.." I try to concentrate on his words and take notes but my mind keeps wandering. I already know how to notice somebody is hypoxic already - I've studied it before. I try my best to tell myself I'm not missing anything as my mind wanders back to the thoughts of Mason. I'm going to call him after class and hopefully we can talk. I need him to talk to me. I need him to tell me why he is the way he is, I don't expect him to tell me everything, but I need something to go off of. It's driving me crazy how he's so hot and cold because he's scared I'm in danger. If he can't tell me what I need to know, I can't see myself with him - even as friends.
I spend the rest of the classes concentrating slightly and worrying majorly. I'm very particular about my notes and the way they are laid out, as well as keeping on top of my work - so I know after my chat with Mason, depending on how it goes I'll rewrite my notes, using highlighters and coloured pens.
I pick up my phone to check the time as I leave my class, and see a text from Mason, it made my chest feel weird just seeing his name.
*Hey, can we talk?*
I wanted to talk to him anyway, but my heart still pounds as I read the words. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about? I really hope it doesn't stop me from talking to him about everything.
*Sure, I'm just about to drive home. Pick me up in half an hour?* I would invite him in, but it's not a good idea since my mom literally acts like he's some sort of descendant of satan.
My mom's car isn't in the drive when I get home, at least I don't need to deal with her right now. I don't need to change since I just wore comfortable clothes to class and my hair is tied up. I twirl my hair round my fingertips and tap my foot against the wooden floor as I wait for Mason, I'm nervous and I don't know what I'm going to say. I tried to plan a speech but I can't remember any of it now, and I know when it comes to it I'll freeze.
I hear the door knock and I walk outside to meet him.
"My mom isn't home but it's best we don't talk here, in case she comes home early again." I tell him and he nods, opening the car door for me.
"We can go to my dorm, Matt isn't there he's probably at the library or some shit." he rolls his eyes and I glare at him.
"You're so mean to Matt." I scold him.
"No, Matt is annoying." he sighs.
"No he isn't, you just provoke him." I chuckle and he shakes his head.
"So.. what did you want to talk about?" he asks me.
"Shouldn't we wait till we're at the dorm? The car isn't the best place to talk." I avoid the question, I really am just putting off the inevitable but I'm too nervous.
"So it's bad?" he raises his eyebrow at me.
"No, not exactly." I mumble.
"Is your's bad?" I bite the inside of my cheek from nerves.
"No.. not exactly." he copies my words as he focuses on the road.
"That isn't exactly filling me with confidence." I rest my head against the seat.
"Same goes to you." he mutters.
When we arrive at the dorm, like he said, Matt isn't home. For some reason I found myself hoping he was, so we wouldn't have to talk about it. But of course, it's inevitable. It's better I know now rather than later.
I take a seat on my usual spot on the bed and bounce my leg up and down slightly, a nervous habit of mine. Mason takes a seat beside me, not too close.
"Do you want to go first?" he asks me, noticeably uncomfortable.
"Not really, you?" I furrow my brow.
"Mine is more.. important, not as easy to say." he avoids eye contact, as usual. His words make the tension in the room rise, I'm more nervous than I was, which is a lot.
"How do you know that if you don't know what I'm going to say?" I mumble.
"Damn it, Amara. You're so damned difficult." he snaps and runs his fingers through his hair. It makes me feel one hundred times worse that he's already irritable and I haven't even mentioned it to him. Whatever he has to say must be bad.
"I'll go first." I stutter, and he nods in agreement. Even in this moment I don't know what I'm going to say. But I know I need to be blunt, honest, straight to the point.
He nods, but his eyes seem so vacant. I'm not even sure he's really listening, he seems like he's in a world of his own.
"You're sitting next to me but you're miles away." I sigh,
"What do you mean? Don't be so cryptic." he groans, I choose to ignore how hypocritical he's being right now—since all he does is tell me cryptic information.
"What I mean is that.. you don't tell me anything." I notice him preparing to interject and I raise my hand, telling him to wait.
"You're the most confusing yet endearing person I've ever met. You lie to me, I know you do. You hide things from me. Simple things. Like your family, or why you moved from Italy, or most of all why you keep telling me you're putting me in danger." as I continue I can hear my voice beginning to raise and my tone becoming harsher unintentionally.
"In fact, I think that's the worst of all. You're so hot and cold, you say you have feelings for m- in fact, you don't. You've never told me how you feel about me. You're present one day and the next you're so cold and distant, yelling that you can't be with me because you'll hurt me. What does that mean, Mason? I need to know. I know you're probably not going to tell me, but I need to know."
I pause, gathering my bearings, "I need to be able to trust you and I can't when you hide everything from me. One of my most intimate secrets about my mother is now yours to hold, and I don't even know what your story is." I finish rambling and I wait for him to blow up, scream at me, I can see the coldness in his usually kind eyes, and the anger he's desperately trying to hide behind them.
"I know." he simply says, not harshly, but quietly, softly, looking me in the eyes.
"You do?" I can't disguise the surprise in my voice.
"I do." he sighs.
"I don't mean to sound rude, Mason. But you know how I feel about you, and I feel like I don't know you at all." I tap my fingers on the bedframe.
"Can I respond now?" he says quietly.
I nod and wait patiently for whatever comes next.
"First of all, I never lied to you." he says, silencing me with his hand the same way I did as I tried to interject.
"I never lied to you, Amara. I purposely withheld information, which may be worse, but I never once told you something that was untrue. I never told you how I feel, but it's because I had good reason, I have good reason. What I wanted to talk about was just that. It's not easy, Amara. You're the one single person who I even fucking considered telling. Jake acts like he knows but he doesn't, he knows I have a bad past, but not the details. Nobody knows the details. I want to tell you, Amara, because if I don't I know I'll lose you and the thought of it drives me fucking insane."
I'm lost for words, partly because I know whatever he needs to tell me is bad, really bad. And partly from his words, losing me drives him crazy. Just as losing him makes me feel like I'm losing my mind.
Maybe we're just as insane as each other.
"I'm sorry for pushing you to tell me." I smile slightly.
"No, Amara. You need to tell me you'll leave and not look back if I don't tell you. You cant tell me it's okay not to. You need to yell at me and tell me if you don't hear the truth right now you'll never fucking talk to me again." he rambles on.
"What?"
"Tell me, please. I need to know you mean it or I can't bring myself to tell you." he stands up and begins to pace, I can tell he's more than nervous, scared even. I'm almost shaking at how nervous he is, he's always so together, I can't stand seeing him like this. I question whether I want to know, based on his reactions but I need to. I need to scare him into telling me just like he asked.
"I'll leave." I say as sternly as I can and my voice cracks, he turns to face me and stops pacing.
"I mean it, I'm not saying it because you told me to. I'm saying it because I planned a whole speech. A speech about cutting you off if you wont tell me." I tell him, partially true.
"I can't be your friend, or more, if you can't tell me this. You're scaring me more by not telling me. I couldn't be more scared than I am right now, despite whether you told me or not."
Lie.
"I don't care anymore, Mason. I need to know, or I'm walking out of that door and we never speak again."
Lie. Lie. Lie.
"Tell me!" I yell, standing to my feet in front of him.
"I was eight." he begins and my mouth opens slightly, I didn't think it would work, that he would actually tell me.
Eight, so young. I feel worried about what he's going to say, whether I really want to know this or if it'll change everything.
"I was eight when my dad started getting mixed in with the wrong crowd. He worked in a bank originally but he lost his job, I never really knew why. He never told my mom or me, he just told us he lost his job. My mom was a stay at home mom, she had to be for me." he exhales deeply, shifting his gaze. "When he lost his job we had no money, we were going to lose the house, I heard them arguing about it every night. My dad took out a loan, but not from the bank. He borrowed money from these men, they sold drugs and they were into a lot of bad shit." he pauses and looks at me, as if for reassurance—to which I smile as best as I can at him for, hoping it gives him what he needs to continue.
"He borrowed enough for us to keep the house and get us by, but they kept coming back demanding bigger and bigger instalments of the money, with added interest of course. My dad had a new job at a pizza place and my mom was working two jobs at once, trying to work up the money to pay them back."
I struggle to keep a straight face as his story continuous, my nerves ever-growing.
"I was home alone most of the time until one day when I was ten, they showed up at our house, in their usual black leather jackets with the symbol on the side. They had a conversation with my dad and he agreed to work for them, to pay off the debt that way—by doing their dirty work. I don't know what he was doing, he never discussed it, I don't even think he told my mom. He'd come home and go to bed, the same routine every night, they barely even spoke. It was like ships in the night."
He takes another deep breath and I cant bring myself to form any words, so I decide to just let him finish before I speak. I have no idea where this story is going and my heart is pounding. His eyes are like stone, they seem empty and cold as he speaks, his words coming out with almost no emotion.
"Some days he'd come home and the look on his face scared me so much that I wouldn't want to see him. My mom had another baby, my younger sister, River. One day I followed my dad to meet them. I walked for at least twelve blocks, I don't know what I was thinking but I was young and wanted to see what he was doing. I ended up getting lost and my dad was out of sight." I notice him start to get ever so slightly emotional as his voice cracks slightly—but he quickly pulls himself back together.
"Long story short I seen something I shouldn't have seen, and they know I did. They threatened me and as soon as my dad found out he moved us from Italy to London, I thought it was dramatic at the time but these guys don't play around. My dad still owed them money, and they sent people to England to find us, five years down the line, after we thought we were in the clear. My dad moved to somewhere in Spain, my mom and sister to somewhere in the east coast, she was turning 5." he sighs at the mention of his younger sister.
"I moved here, they sent me here to have some sort of education and a chance at being safe I guess, they split us all up because it's the safest option. I keep myself to myself, I don't let people ask questions, I don't let myself get close to anyone. I don't let myself care for anyone. I don't let myself get too attached. It's safest." he tenses before looking at me then looking away.
"Until me." I say, my mouth dry and my head feeling as though it's going to explode.
"Until you." he takes a deep breath in.
My head is literally spinning, I feel like I need to sit down. My heart aches for that curious young boy who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm trying to process the information I was just told but it's almost impossible. I never expected it. I would never in a million years expect him to have such a complex and truly heart-breaking story.
I cant imagine what it must have been like, all of it, and separating from his family. Closing himself off from the world. I just want to wrap him up in cotton and protect him from all the badness in the world, from ever going through that again. Suddenly everything makes sense, how rude he is to people—to push them away.
How difficult he is—to keep them from finding out. How scared he is of commitment—to keep people safe, and because he truly doesn't know how to be cared for.
"Mason.." I can't find any words, his eyes are on the floor and his body is stiff.
He gives me a smile, his soft lips stretch into a smile that didn't quite reach his dark eyes. They were lit with sadness, and the forced expression of the contrary on his mouth would have looked comical to me if it didn't make my heart feel so heavy. It broke my heart seeing him this way. So vulnerable, like seeing a glimpse of the fifteen year old boy losing his family. I'm truly lost for words.
Instead, I walk towards him and wrap my arms around him, resting my head on his chest. It takes him a second to return it, but eventually he loosely wraps his arms around my waist, before tightening his grip and resting his head on top of mine. I can almost feel the pain he went through from his touch. This is the most personal we have ever been, we've kissed, but we've never showed affection like this. True affection.
"I'm sorry, Amara." he whispers into my hair.
"Why are you sorry?" I ask, lifting my head from his chest to look him in the eyes.
"I don't want you to be in danger." he says as he exhales.
"I'm not in danger, I know you won't let that happen." I whisper, bringing my thumb across his cheek lightly.
"You're like nobody I've ever met before, Amara Woods. You know that?" he chuckles and smiles at me, his arms still firmly wrapped around me.
"I know. and you're definitely like nobody I've ever met before—you're far more rude." I tease and return the smile.
I still have so many questions. What did he see that day? Does he still have contact with his family? Was it a gang his dad was involved with? The Mafia? Is he safe here? Am I safe?
He told me more than I could've ever asked for, for now I need to keep my questions to myself. I cant say the concept of him having dangerous people after him doesn't terrify me, but there's a strange serenity in the fact I know he'll protect me, and I'll do everything I can to protect him. He drives me crazy, and makes me angrier than anyone ever has, but he intrigues me more each day, and every time I see him I feel myself become happier. His smile, although it's rare, comes from deep inside to light his eyes and spreads to every part of him.
As a child you're warned about the dangers in life such as drugs, alcohol, the bad men in the street late at night, but never once was I warned of the hazel, honey infused eyed boy which ignited something deep inside me I didn't know existed. That was the most dangerous of all.