Page 1 of Studious
Prologue—Alden
Iexit Mason’s mom’s royal blue BMW X3 and stand on the sidewalk outside the large Mid-Wilshire home, trying to hide my shaking hands.
I can do this.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper into Mason’s ear as I eye the mass of chattering kids sipping Cokes and loitering on the front porch. It’s early October. Hip-hop music blares through the open door, and I wince at the sound of raucous laughter as if it’s directed at me—even though I know it’s likely not. Old habits die hard.
He slaps me on the shoulder. “Yes, you can. It’ll be fun!” He shuts the car door behind me and waves at his mom, who drives off. While I’ve never thought of Mrs. Gray as anything other than warm and welcoming, as I watch her taillights head down the pretty, tree-lined street, I’m feeling rather abandoned, and my urge to run after her zooms to stratospheric levels.
I shouldn’t have let Mason talk me into coming to the party today. He’s my polar opposite and has no problem making friends. I have no idea why he latched on to me way back when we were eight, but he did. Basically, I’m friends with no one but him. I don’t mean just at this party, I mean in real life.
It’s fine. I don’t want any other friends. Okay, maybe I do, but I’ve never felt comfortable around people I don’t know. I always clam up or say the wrong thing.
And my loneliness is more acute now that we’re in a new school. While a few kids went to the same private middle school as us, for the most part they’re strangers—although I recognize some of the honors kids.
“This is going to be awful,” I mutter. I have trouble peopling under the best of circumstances. Taking me out of my comfort zone is a recipe for absolute disaster. “No one’s going to want to talk to me, and I barely know anyone. I don’t belong here.”
“Kayla invited everyone,” he says.
“I bet she didn’t mean me. I should just leave. I’ll call my mom and have her pick me up.”
Mason grabs me by the scruff of the neck and pushes me toward the house.
“Ow,” I complain, although he wasn’t that rough. Not really.
“All you need is confidence. Which you’ll never get if you don’t put yourself out there. It’s not like you’ve never been to a birthday party. I went to yours last month.”
“You were the only guest besides my grandparents,” I huff. “And middle school wasn’t like this,” I say, gesturing at two kids making out by the hibiscus bush. Where are Kayla’s parents? Maybe they don’t care. I know it’s not cool, but I’m not ready for a wild party. I’d have enough trouble with a normal one.
I’m used to the people in my grade being older than me, because I started kindergarten early, but I feel really young at times like this. Kind of like when the girls started wearing bras and makeup and the guys started growing facial hair. Meanwhile, I stayed… me. Younger than everyone else, and small for my age on top of that.
“You’re building it up in your mind. Come be social.”
“What if I don’t want to do anything social? What if my goal in life is to be Supreme Hermit of the World?”
He grins. “You said that in capitals, didn’t you? You, my friend, are shy and introverted, but not a hermit. I wouldn’t be forcing you if I didn’t think it was a good idea. Stay for this party, and I won’t make you go to any more.”
His words make hope bloom in my chest. “You mean that?”
Mason nods. “Yeah. Unless you end up actually liking it, or there’s some really good reason for a different party—like, oh, it’s mine—I won’t make you go to any other party with me. Even if I’d want you to.”
My best friend is braver than I am. He’s more…everythingthan I am. But he’s right. I should figure out how to be more social.
“I know this is hard for you, but chances are you’ll likesomeone.” His voice takes on a gently teasing tone. “I bet Sean is here.” Sean’s my crush.
I shove Mason.What’s good for the goose…“I bet Ben is here, if Kayla invitedeveryone.” Mason’s ears pink, but it’s just for a moment. Ben’shiscrush.
“Come on!” He grabs my hand and strides confidently toward the house.
Mason is bi, but he’s not my boyfriend or anything. We don’t like each other that way. His hand feels like friendly comfort.
Guess there’s no turning back now. I take a deep breath and follow Mason up the walk into the party, squeezing past groups of chattering kids everywhere. Leaning against the porch columns, sitting on furniture, standing on the lawn. Mason drops my hand and greets a girl in a crop top and high-waisted shorts, giving her a hug. After they say hi, he excuses himself quickly, gesturing to me, and we make our way to the heart of the throbbing party.
When we get inside the modern mansion, it’s worse. Since Kayla invited the entire ninth-grade class, it’s like we’re in the crowded, locker-lined hallways of our private high school, but there are no uniforms to equalize us. I stare down at my T-shirt of a cat with laser eyes riding a llama unicorn. I’d thought it was funny, but now I’m scared that I’m completely out of place, given how many trendy outfits and school sports jerseys I’m seeing. I don’t see anyone wearing intentionally geeky or ironic clothes. Oh well.
“Want something to drink?” Mason asks.
I shrug. “Okay.”
