“Mason?” Mom’s voice cuts through the haze as we reach her. She’s standing at the goat-milk soap stall with Maddie. Hereyes—sharp despite their tiredness—focus on me. “You okay, sweetheart?”
I nod too quickly, clutching the pint of cherries. “Yeah.”
We move slowly down the next row, the wheels of Mom’s walker rumbling over the cracked pavement. Maddie flits ahead with bubbly enthusiasm, stopping at every stand, pointing out sunflowers taller than she is.
I can’t focus.
Everywhere I look, I feel eyes glued to me. The couple at the peach stand. The old man buying green beans. The teenage girls whispering by the bakery tent. My whirling mind supplies their thoughts.That’s Mason Burke. Didn’t you hear? He kissed a guy. He’s with that boy now. Isn’t that his sick mom? How sad. How shameful.
My grip on Hunter’s hand tightens, then loosens. The noise in my chest builds until I can’t stand it anymore, and I pull away, shoving both fists in my pockets.
Hunter glances at me, confusion flickering in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but I catch the way his hand drops back to his side, empty.
Mom and Maddie stop at a fruit stall and buy a bag of chocolate-covered blueberries. They tear into it right away, Maddie giggling as she shoves one into Mom’s mouth. The sight should make me smile, but the noise inside me only roars louder.
Hunter shifts closer, lowering his voice. “Mase, are you okay?”
I nod quickly, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah. It’s just… crowded.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go, slipping his hands into his pockets like me. We walk in silence, the space between us suddenly feeling wide, even though we’re shoulder to shoulder.
And then someone laughs behind us—loud, sharp, careless. My stomach knots. It probably has nothing to do with me, but I hear it anyway:They’re laughing at you. At Hunter.
The pressure in my chest snaps like a rubber band.
“I need some air,” I huff sharply.
Mom and Maddie look back, their smiles faltering. Concern washes over Hunter’s face as he reaches out to grab my hand, but Iflinch away. I don’t miss the pain that stings in his eyes when I reject him.
“Mason,” Mom scolds, eyes narrowed at me. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m fine,” I snap, louder than I should. Heads turn. Heat burns up the back of my neck. “I just—I need to be alone for a few minutes.”
Before anyone can stop me, I rush down the sidewalk, cutting between stalls, shoving past a couple with a stroller. The market blurs around me in a haze of color and chatter. I don’t stop moving until I’m clear of the crowd.
I find a bench tucked against the edge of the parking lot and drop onto it, elbows braced against my knees. My lungs heave like I’ve just finished a sprint, though all I did was run from a crowd of people buying fresh fruit and craft beer.
This is what I signed up for, isn’t it? The cost of not hiding anymore. I told myself I was ready for this—stares, whispers, strangers deciding who I am before I even speak.
I drag a hand through my curls, tugging hard at the roots. Their judgment feels like it’s seared into my skin, and I hate it. I hate that I’m letting it get to me.
Still… I can’t ignore the truth that pulses under the shame and panic: it’s worth it. All of it. Because I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with Hunter. I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m holding his hand.
I sit there until my breathing evens out, until the shaking in my chest settles into a dull ache. Then I push myself up and head back into the market.
When I find Mom and Maddie again, they’re sitting on a bench near the flower stalls, the walker parked neatly at Mom’s side.
Hunter isn’t with them. My stomach sinks.
“Where’s Hunter?” I ask, scanning the crowd. Maybe he just stepped away to buy more flowers.
Mom’s face softens, but there’s a pinch of disappointment around her eyes. “He said he was going to walk home. He thought you didn’t want him here.”
The words land heavy in my stomach. “What? That’s not—” My voice cracks, and I bite it back, ashamed of the desperate edge.
Maddie folds her arms across her chest, glaring at me like I’m the world’s biggest idiot. “Can you blame him? You stormed off like a toddler having a tantrum. No wonder he thinks you don’t want him around.”
I open my mouth, but no defense comes out. Because she’s right.
