The drive there was torture, and the idea of family time was definitely turning into
his
crappiest idea yet. He cringed, rolling his eyes as he gripped the steering wheel
as his mother’s nagging voice growled in his ear.
“Mason! Slow down, son. The speed limit is only thirty, and you’re pushing forty!”
“Are you being serious right now, ma? Everyone else is going at least forty-five around
us!”
“Well, Mase, I just dealt with a trauma patient last week in the ER who got into an
accident right along this very road due to speeding. He suffered a concussion and
a broken collar bone.” She sat back with her huffy puffy attitude and crossed her
arms over her chest. She was pouting like a seven year old.
He let out a breath of relief when they finally pulled into the parking lot, and still
as they headed inside, the woman wouldn’t let up on him. “I’m telling you, Mason.
You need to start wearing a warmer coat! This is
not
November in Santa Cruz, son.” He bit his tongue, too distracted by his pleading sister
for one of his smart mouth retorts.
For Maisy, he’d keep his shit in check.
Maisy saw a couple of friend’s from school and headed over to talk to them while
Mason’s mom made small talk with the hostess. Annoyed, Mason glanced around the place
spotting a few people he knew but nobody he cared to talk to. The restaurant was narrow.
Pictures of past customers adorned the wall while the booths and tables sat off to
either side. The buzz of his cell phone from his pocket eased his jitters. He knew
exactly who it was.
I miss you. Call me before you go to sleep.
His fingers flew rapidly over the keyboard before he slipped it back into his jeans.
A
small cheesy smile played out on his lips as he slipped into the booth next to Maisy.
“Can’t you for once just put that stupid phone away, Mason? Every time I look at you
you’re either texting or searching the web. It drives me nuts. You know they say all
electronic devices are hazardous to your eyes,” Mason stiffened. The woman was killing
him. He inhaled and exhaled trying, but failing miserably, to keep his temper at bay.
“Sorry, Mom,” he growled, gritting his teeth together. His mother stared back, her
own
eyes narrowed briefly before her attention turned back onto the menu.
Good. She could stew on that apology for a while. She wouldn’t be hearing it from
him
again anytime soon.
The conversation was minimal at dinner. The atmosphere was tense. Mason knew things
had gotten bad between them, but dammit, this was beyond miserable. He’d never actually
figured out the actual breaking point in their mother-son relationship, but if he
had to take a stab at it, he’d guess it was right after his father died. Hell, most
likely she blamed him for his death anyways.
“So, Maisy, how’s school going, sweetheart?”
“Fine, Mom. I love my classes this year, especially pottery and sculpture! We’re working
on an awesome project. I can’t wait to show you guys!” He smiled at his sister’s energetic
spirit.
He hadn’t seen her so excited about something in a while.
“That’s great, sweetie! So good to hear. How about you, Mason?” She stiffly glanced
his
way, as if it pained her to ask. Still, he was shocked she’d even had the guts to
try.
“Good, Ma,” he replied shortly twirling his straw around in his pop, itching to end
the
conversation, eat his food, and then leave.
The silence continued until his mother cleared her throat, “So have either one of
you
spoken to any friends from back home since we left?”
Mason shook his head as he took a drink. Most of his friends were too wrapped up in
surfing to give a shit about him anyway. He was jealous of the thought but only for
a second. He had something they didn’t have, a Harley Anderson. He smiled at the thought
as his sister’s excited attitude took over the conversation. He’d let her. She was
what mattered in the family, not him.
“OMG, Mom! I completely forgot to tell you. Kylee called a couple of days ago and
told
me that her parents were going to fly her out for Thanksgiving weekend! Please tell
me that it’s okay!”
Shit, shit, shit, shit. Not Kylee. He stiffened, praying a
no
would fall from his mother’s lips. That bimbo of a girl had been his one final hurrah
before they’d left Cali, and Maisy had no idea. Honestly though, Mason never thought
he’d see her again, so scratching that itch before leaving town was doable. Now though,
it was quickly becoming his most moronic moment ever.
“That’s wonderful, Maisy! It will be good to see her again. She was always so sweet
to
you.” Mason covered his laughter with a cough. Nobody knew about the girl’s ulterior
motives.
The one where she’d only been friends with Maisy to get to him. He shuddered and cringed
as both his mom and sister narrowed their eyes at him. Luckily neither made a comment,
and they turned back to their conversation like he wasn’t even there.
“Are you sure it’s okay, Mom? I know it’s our first Thanksgiving without Dad and
all…”
“That's fine, sweetie. Your dad would want us to be happy, so if having Kylee here
makes you happy, then that’s what we’ll do.” Mason’s insides cringed as he shuddered,
sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Having Kylee under
their roof for three days was the worst idea ever.
“Mase, isn’t this awesome?” Her giddiness was infectious, and he smiled back at her,
even though his stomach churned with unease. “Maybe you could get a friend to come
visit too!”
“Nah, I’ll just hang with Harley that weekend,” he looked down as the waitress set
his
plate before him. Suddenly, food was the furthest thing on his mind.
“You and this
Marley
girl are getting awfully serious, aren’t you? Does she know you plan on leaving in
another month or so?” His mom clicked her tongue; her all-knowing attitude had him
gripping the table, so he didn’t slug it instead.
“Actually, Mom, I told
Harley
that I wasn’t sure what my plans were yet.”
“Really?” Her entire demeanor changed – her face softened, her eyes were wide with
what appeared to be hope, and for the first time ever, it seemed he’d apparently caught
her off guard. “You mean to tell me that an actual
girl
is going to keep
you
from fulfilling those lovely
surfing
dreams of yours?”
There went his hope for a good finish to their meal. God, she was riding his last
nerve.
“Mom, I told you. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Harley means a lot to me,
but
surfing for the ASP has been my dream, Dad’s dream too.” Her fork hovered over her
lasagna, and she didn’t respond. He’d hit her buttons.
His mother hated surfing and blamed it on his father’s death even though he wasn’t
actually doing it when he died.
She nodded as her fingers shook ever so slightly. Mason was on the edge of the seat.
Would she make a scene? Would she let it go? He bit his lip, staring over at his sister.
Her face had paled, but her eyes were downturned. Nobody said a word. Maybe he shouldn’t
have brought his dad up, but if it got her off his back, then that would be enough
for him.
The rest of the dinner was strained, yet another failed attempt at family bonding
time.
Hell, nothing was the same anymore.
An hour later, Mason found himself in his room dialing Harley’s number faster than
he’d
ever thought his fingers could move. He needed to hear her voice. It was his cure
all today, most days actually.
“Hey, surfer boy, how was dinner?”
He smiled at her question. It was always about him first. Harley’s selflessness was
something he was still getting used to.
“It wasn’t the greatest, but I made it through.” She giggled, and Mason melted into
his
bed at the sound, his eyes drifting shut as he sighed. “I would have much rather been
with you tonight though.”
She sighed too. The noise took his breath and kept it hostage in his lungs. He could
almost picture her face, her snuggling into his arms, using his chest as a pillow.
“I know … same here. Therapy was crappier than usual because David’s super
temperamental right now.”
“Oh yeah? What’s up with him?”
“Well, you know how I said he told Abigail that he didn’t want a relationship with
her?
Well apparently she’d decided to start dating around now, and he saw her with her
new flavor this afternoon.”
Mason was all ears as she went on with her story. He threw one hand behind his head
against the pillow, and found himself truly feeling for her brother. If that was him,
and Abigail was Harley, then he’d be a mess too.
“Well, maybe now that he sees that she’s serious about moving on. Maybe he’ll get
his
act together and make a move.”
“Yeah, but I think it’s too late. Abigail was obviously upset with his decision and
was
probably even more pissed due to the fact that he led her on for so long. Now I’m
stuck in the middle of them brooding over each other, and there’s nothing I hate more
than taking sides.”
“Well, if I could kiss you right now, then I would. Would that help?” Mason shook
his
head and wiped a hand down the front of his red tinged cheeks. Jesus, she was turning
him into a mushy bastard, but at his words, he could have sworn he heard her smile
through the phone. If she liked a mushy mouth, then he’d keep the fluffiness rolling.
She was worth it.
Unfortunately he had to go and ruin the moment. He had to tell her, “I’ve got something
to tell you, Harley, and I don’t want you to freak out...”
“Tell me then,” she giggled. “I promise to keep my freaking to a minimal level.”
He took a deep breath, wincing as the Kylee announcement came out in a rush. “My
sister’s best friend from Santa Cruz is coming to visit over Thanksgiving weekend,
and I wanted you to know because we kind of, sort of hooked up for about a week before
I moved here.” He exhaled heavily, stiffening as he waited for her answer, but the
answering quiet scared him worse than if she would have freaked.
“Um, by
hooked up
, you do mean like, kissing and stuff … right? Or do you mean really and truly hooking
up, like sex-wise, hooking up?”
“I mean the latter,” he cringed, squeezing his eye shut, waiting for an inevitable
dial tone, but he sure as hell didn’t expect the answering quiet he received instead.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Har!”
She blew out a breath into the speaker. Her question came out with a whisper. “Exactly
how many girls
have
you
hooked up
with, Mason, because you sound as though it’s a common thing for you to do.” He sat
up and rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness. He’d been
dreading this conversation for a while, but there was no better time than now to discuss
it.
“I’ve had
sex
with a total of seven girls, but I’ve messed around with, um, several more than that.”
“Seven, Mason, for real? When exactly did you lose your virginity, like, ten?” She
had no
idea that she was only four years shy of the actual number, but he wasn’t going there.
He was a guy. He made mistakes, lots of them.
“It’s not
that
bad, Harley. Hell, I’m practically a virgin as far as my old high school’s standards
are concerned.” She snorted. Her laughter sounded forced. “It’s true,” he shook his
head. The number was minimal, nothing compared to his buddies.
“Hell, then I’d be considered a nun, wouldn’t I?” This perked his attention, and his
brows
rose. Was she going to go there? He felt his jaw clench and his teeth grind. He wasn’t
sure he wanted to know that answer.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m the big ‘V’, Mase. Why do you sound so surprised?
Some
people have standards, ya know?”
He ignored the dig, “Yeah, well, I figured you were with that guy Aiden for a while…”
S
hut up, Mason...
“Aiden and I never got to that point. I wasn’t ready, no matter how much he used to
pressure me about it.” Mason knew the guy was dead, but if he hadn’t been, then Mason
would have hunted him down and … God, he’d do
something
to the dude. Harley deserved better.
Better than you especially, man…
He ignored his internal voice. It was right, but he already working on changing that.
“I’m
sorry for assuming, Harley. I respect you for waiting.”
“Yeah well, it’s not that I plan to stay that way for forever, so…” He sensed a hidden
meaning but let it slide. He’d dig deeper soon.
“So anyways, this girl that’s coming. Is she, like, in love with you or something?
Should I be worried?” Harley’s teasing words were a front. He could hear the underlying
anxiousness in her voice. He struggled with his reassurance, wiping his sweaty hands
on his comforter.
He
could be trusted, but Kylee? No, she couldn’t.
She was a sneaky she devil of the worst kind. No matter what, she had always found
a
way to get her claws sunk into whatever she wanted. He just hoped she didn’t want
to dig them into him anymore.
“No, you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he lied, his heart stuttering at
the
words. “The girl hates my guts, and I don’t exactly like her either. Besides, I plan
on spending as much time with you as possible that weekend.”
“Well, shit,” she groaned. Mason’s smile grew big at her potty mouth. Not a lot of
girls
out there let those words fly like Harley. “There’s only one problem with that, Mase.
I won’t be in town that weekend. We always visit my grandparents in Lincoln on Thanksgiving,
so it looks as though you’re going to have to fend for yourself.”