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“Yeah, okay.” Scottie gave me the smallest smile.
I gave him a little wave in return, ignoring his big brother’s eyes drilling holes into the side of my face.
“Bye, Harper.”
“Bye, Scottie.”
I watched them leave, hardly surprised that Mason didn’t say goodbye or give me a second glance.
Even if it did sting a little.
“Someone has a crush,” the volunteer—an older woman named Mary—said.
“Sorry, what?” I gawked at her. Because surely she didn’t think that Mason—
“Scottie. That boy looked at you with stars in his eyes.”
She was talking about Scottie.
Oh, God.
How embarrassing.
“I’m sure that’s not—”
“Been working here long enough to see it over and over again.”
“He’s just a kid,” I scoffed.
“A kid with all kinds of hormones raging inside him,” she chuckled. “A beautiful young girl like you, and I’m sure all the boys are looking in your direction.”
The conversation made me super uncomfortable. I was here to help. Not be a poster girl for teenage boy fantasies.
Thankfully, when she signed the next kid out, their parents had a bunch of questions, which meant I could slip away. I headed straight for the staff room to grab my purse and jacket. I didn’t expect to walk out of the center and find Mason trying to coax Scottie into his car.
He glanced up, his jaw clenching at the sight of me. I had two choices, and his tense expression told me which one to take, so I hurried to my car and climbed inside. But I couldn’t resist glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
Mason had crouched down to look Scottie in the eye as he spoke. It was hard to imagine someone like Mason handling a boy like Scottie with the patience and compassion he required. He always seemed so cold and rough around the edges. Whatever he said worked though, and Scottie climbed into his brother’s car, and Mason went around the driver’s side.
I’d been staring long enough, so I jammed the key in the ignition, the car rumbling to life beneath me.
After my disastrous conversation with Mason the other night, I’d promised myself to stay out of his way. But I wasn’t volunteering here to piss him off. It was great experience for my future, and it beat working in Lakeshore, where I would run into too many people I knew from college.
I didn’t want to give it up or swap groups; I didn’t.
But could I really survive seeing him here, knowing that he didn’t want me working with his little brother because he disliked me that much?
Mason Steele’s opinion of you does not define you.
Screw him.
I wanted to work with Scottie’s group.
Mason Steele was just going to have to get over himself.
* * *
By the time I got back to my dorm building, I was tired, hungry, and cranky.
