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Mason:The Walking Deadis a comic book.
Of course he would know that, I shake my head with a smile, then type out my response.
Me: Actually, they also published a book
Dots appear on the screen then disappear, and after a minute of silence, I shrug and go to put my phone down when it beeps again.
Mason: Only a nerd would know that.
I bark out a laugh, then quickly type back.
Me: Are you calling me a nerd?
Mason: I know my people.
Me: Well, this nerd is going to continue reading the book another fellow nerd gave her today.
Mason: Are you free tomorrow after school? We could make a start on our English paper.
Me: Sure. Where would you like to meet?
Mason: Do you want me to come to your house?
Absolutely not. No one comes to my house except Lyndsey, Eric, and, once upon a time, Logan. My mother usually starts drinking sometime after lunch and is always drunk when I come home. She is not a happy drunk and would eat Mason alive if he came over.
Me: Can I come to your house instead?
Mason: Okay
He texts me his address.
Me: I will see you tomorrow, Mason
Mason: See you tomorrow Ava
ChapterFive
AVA
Pulling into Mason’s driveway, I shut off the engine and exit my car, glancing up at the two-story Victorian-style house that Mason calls home. The wood siding is painted a pale yellow with white shutters on every window. A white railing wraps around the front porch, and a stone path leads from the driveway to the porch steps.
Making my way up the path, my vision is assaulted by the kaleidoscope of colors coming from the many floral garden beds surrounding the home and other sections of the lawn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a garden with this many flowers before in my life. There must be at least a thousand of them, and I’m so distracted by the array of bountiful blooms that I nearly trip on the steps to the front porch.
“Shit,” I mutter, quickly correcting myself and then heading to the front door and ringing the doorbell.
“I will get it,” someone yells, followed by the thumping of footsteps growing louder as they draw near. The door opens, and I’m greeted by a young boy with brown hair and blue eyes that look like Mason’s.
“Who are you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in the same mannerism I have noticed Mason do when he’s curious.
He must be his brother.
“I’m Ava. Is Mason home?”
“Mason! There is a girl at the door for you,” he yells over his shoulder, then turns back and sizes me up for a moment before opening the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”
As soon as I step inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies invades my senses. The boy closes the door and runs up the stairs without another word, leaving me standing in the foyer.
I scan the interior of the home. The floors are dark wood that matches the panels that run halfway up the wall. There is a study to my left, next to the staircase, and a living room on my right. All of the walls are beige and lined with family photos. The house has so much character and warmth but what really has my attention is the large number of trinkets displayed. There are glass cabinets, tables, and bookcases filled with all sorts of crystals, weird-looking fairy and dragon sculptures, and some of the most unusual vases filled with flowers I have ever seen.
