I almost laugh at the thought. I was a complete outcast in high school, overshadowed by my popular football quarterback twin brother. I was the weird kid who didn’t understand social cues and corrected teachers in front of the class.
“No,” I say firmly. “I didn’t sleep with girls in high school. Or boys. Or anyone, really. Not until undergrad.”
Mason gives a low whistle. “Wow. That’s surprising.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he says, gesturing to me vaguely, “you’re, like, the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
I stare at the floor and shake my head. “Even if that were true—which it definitelyisn’t—you’re forgetting the fact that I’m incredibly awkward.”
“I think your awkwardness is charming,” he says, smirking.
I roll my eyes. “You’d be one of the first to think that.”
Mason scoots closer to me, dragging himself across the floor. Our thighs brush, and the warmth makes my skin buzz. He sandwiches my face between his hands, staring at me intensely.
“I mean it,” he says after a moment. “I like that you don’t hide your weirdness.”
“I’m not trying to be weird,” I mutter.
“Exactly! You’re just being yourself. I like that you know the scientific names for basically every plant. I like that you put rainbow stickers on everything you own. I like that you yelled at that guy on the beach for throwing a soda can in the trash instead of recycling.”
His words melt inside me, gooey and soft. I keep waiting for a punchline—like all of this is too good to be true, and soon he’ll admit that it’s all an elaborate prank. But he’s just staring at me with an honest smile on his face.
Instead of saying anything, I lean in and kiss him. Our lips meet, soft and a little clumsy. My glasses shift crookedly between our faces, and I know they’ll have smudges on the lenses afterwards, but I don’t care.
When we pull apart, his hand stays on my cheek. “As much as I’d like to stay here and keep kissing you, I have to go back to work. Andyouneed to get back to your precious plants.”
I groan, but he’s right.
He laughs and stands, offering me a hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.
We grab our empty lunchboxes and start walking down the trail again, shoulder to shoulder. We don’t hold hands, but our elbows knock together every now and then.
When we reach the beach, he gives my arm a gentle squeeze. It’s too crowded here to sneak in a farewell kiss, so the touch lingers as our silent goodbye.
I head back toward the dunes with the sun on my back and his warmth still buzzing under my skin.
Chapter Sixteen
The next few days pass by in a blur of flirty texts, fleeting touches, and lunchtime makeout sessions.
Logically, I know Mason’s a busy guy. He’s juggling two jobs and raising his little sister. His mom just got diagnosed with cancer. I get it. Really, I do.
And yet, every time he turns down my invitation to hang out, there’s this tiny, stupid pang of rejection in my chest.
He always lets me down gently—apologizing as he tells me he has to drop Maddie off at a sleepover, work a closing shift at the burger joint, or drive his mom to another doctor’s appointment. None of it is his fault.
But there’s a voice in the back of my head that won’t shut up. The same voice that whispered in gym class when I was picked last for dodgeball. The same voice that tore into me when I didn’t get asked to prom. The same voice that taunted me the night Travis left me.
No matter how much I want to believe Mason likes me, part of me is still bracing for the moment he realizes he made a mistake.
But tonight, he finally texts me to tell me his schedule is freed up, and he’s coming over to see me.
My body vibrates with anticipation as I scurry to the bathroom. I take a ridiculously long shower, scrubbing every nook and cranny of my body with my favorite lavender-scented soap, like I’m trying to wash away every trace of insecurity.
Afterward, I repaint my nails, fully aware Mason probably doesn’t care about that. Still, it feels like something I can control. I agonize over the color for a few minutes before eventually settling on a mossy green. Earthy. Grounding.
