Page 95 of The Young & the Sinner

“Something wrong, kiddo?”

I shook my head and looked away. I didn’t think I could speak in a way that would convince him otherwise.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I ordered us some takeout on the way home. It should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

I looked up, nodded, then looked away again.

I felt like crying. And I hated how emotional I was getting.

Max patted my shoulder. “I’m going to get out of these work clothes. Why don’t you stay here and wait for the food to come?”

I let out a small “Okay,” then went back to staring at my hands on my lap. Max hesitated for a moment or two, then quietly made his way upstairs. My lips trembled as I looked outside. The sun had set long ago. The further away from summer we moved, the quicker the days ended, and something about that depressed the hell out of me.

It was like I no longer had the energy to do anything as soon as the sun disappeared from the sky.

Was this the part of the seven stages of grief?

I was mostly in shock for the majority of summer. I didn’t go through any of the grief at the loss of my innocence. I couldn’t even remember all the stages, but I knew there was anger, bargaining, depression… and that was all. I didn’t bargain. I knew what happened to me. I knew there was no way to undo it, though, given the chance to redo everything, I would have rejected Lorenzo from the very beginning and not give in just because he did something nice for me.

As for anger, I had my moments, but those never lasted. They happened in bursts and dissipated just as quickly as they had come.

Was I now entering into depression?

Was that the explanation for my dark mood?

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair.

Mason and Max held the conversation for most of it, as I sat quietly, trying to make sense of my emotions.

Aside from asking me how my day was, they left me alone with my thoughts, and I was pretty grateful for it. I finished my meal quickly, and excused myself, ignoring the looks of concern shared between the two of them. I made my way upstairs and into my room, where I got ready for bed, despite the early hour.

I just wanted to crawl into bed and not get up for a long time.

Yet I quickly realized I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for hours and was still wide awake by the time midnight came around.

I was debating on whether or not I should go see Mason, like I had done the night before, and the night before that. But I wasn’t sure if he wanted me there, especially with the way I acted at dinner.

Truth be told, I was a little embarrassed now that I looked back on it. I didn’t have a good enough reason for my bad mood. Only that it was there.

I knew Max had retired for the night, though. I heard him coming near my room at around ten-thirty. I held my breath while he stood outside, and exhaled softly when he walked away, back to his room. He closed his door with a soft click.

I let out a frustrated groan. I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight; I was sure of it. I laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling, like I had done so many nights ago when I called Mason.

I stilled when I heard a noise outside. Was Max coming in to check up on me again? Was he thinking that I would sneak out in the middle of the night?

But then my door softly opened, and a large figure stood there, taking me in. And I knew right away that it wasn’t Max.

We stared at each other in the dark for a long time before he closed my door and walked further into my room.

I moved over to make room for him on my bed, and Mason climbed in. He hesitated for a long second before he wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me in closer to him. I sagged against him.

I hadn’t realized how tense I was until he held me.

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me tonight,” I whispered against his neck.

He tightened his arms around me a little more, keeping me grounded. “I was waiting for you,” he said, just as softly. “Then I got tired of waiting. Are you okay, sweetheart?”

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