Page 49 of Escape Velocity
Callum walks in front of him and puts his hands on Mason’s shoulders. “Mason. Tell me what’s going on.”
Mason pushes himself off the brick wall and shoves Callum’s hands off of him. “Why do you suddenly care? This whole friendly act? After what you did to me? Youwanna be friends with me? You want to suddenly forget how you treated me?”
Callum stares pointedly at the ground.
Mason points his finger at Callum. “You already haveeverything. You have the team, you have the girls, you have the fans, you have the scholarship, the money, you have the prestige, what else do youwant?” Mason says, shoving Callum hard, sending him a few steps back.
He’s angry. He’s seething. This has festered for years and now he finally has the chance to say all the things he’s wanted to say to Callum. How much hurt and loss he’s endured at Callum’s hand.
“Whatever it is you want from me, I sure as hell amnotgoing to give it to you! I’m not some loose end you need to tie together. I was yourbest friend!” Mason’s voice breaks.
He holds the back of his hand up to his mouth and his chin wobbles and tears stream down his face. He swipes away at them, hating himself for crying in front of the person who’s causing them.
He’s been able to hide his hurt for years, behind willful ignorance and sarcasm, but with one red solo cup of beer and he’s back to square one again.
Callum says nothing. There’s nothing to say. It’s the reality of their situation. Mason begs for answers, but Callum seems to have none.
Callum finally looks away from the ground to Mason and locks eyes with him. “I’m sorry, Mason. You didn’t deserveanyof it, I?—”
Mason scoffs. “Oh, you’resorry? Don’t you think I deserved that apologyyearsago? Your apologies mean nothing to me now. I don’t—I don’t want to hear it.”
He feels like he’s out of his breath, his chest clenching and his stomach churning as he looks at Callum.
He feels lightheaded, like he’s going to faint. It must be some kind of somatic response to all the suppression he’s done over Callum.
Callum hangs his head. “There aren’t any words for what happened. I want to explain. IwishI could?—”
Mason interrupts him again. “How was it soeasyfor you? You saw me sitting alone at that lunch table. You were about to sit with me, and then your stupid jock friends came up to you with their stupid fucking handshakes. And you—you justletthem make those… snide remarks about me doing my homework at lunch like somedweeb. And then you just looked at me and walked away, like I meantnothingto you anymore.”
Callum clenches his fists and his jaw ticks. “Mason.Please. Let’s not do this while you’re drunk?—”
Mason shakes his head. “No! I never want to see you again. I’ll get the editors to put me on some other section of the paper, or I’ll leaveThe Goldbergmyself just so I don’t have to say anything good about you ever again!”
He feels so stupid. He feels utterly clueless. The past couple of weeks was just his naïve thirteen-year-old self letting his crush come back up again, clouding his judgment and the reason why he hates Callum in the first place.
He has good reason, and now he’s being reminded of it. He should never have given Callum a chance.
Mason storms past Callum, thinking he can probably walk back home from where he is. Jenna will understand.
Callum grabs Mason’s arm and forces Mason to look at him. “It wasn’t easy, Mason. I question myself every single day ever since. I remember it, Mason. I’ve thought about you every day since,” Callum pleads, his voice small and strained, like his words are being carved out of him with a scalpel.
Mason’s chin wobbles as he looks at Callum. He looks like a kicked puppy.
Mason has done most of the kicking.
Mason stares at Callum. They’re both staring at each other.
They both feel so much smaller than before, like they’ve stripped each other of their armor and discovered who they were protecting underneath all the pomp and prestige.
Mason sighs, looks at the ground, rips his arm out of Callum’s grasp, and walks away. There’s nothing else Mason can say.
He needs to get away.
He walks down the sidewalk away from the party. Something bubbles up in his throat, and he thinks it might be a cough, but as the bubbling turns into a full-on retch, it ends up being puke.
He lets it all out on the grass, his chest heaving, his eyes stinging from the effort. He sighs and stands back up, feeling oddly emptier than before.
He continues walking around aimlessly, hoping his brain will somehow allow him to find his way back to his dorm subconsciously.
