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But he was a kid then. A nervous, angry kid, still hoping for his asshole dad to come back. It wasn’t him…
“Just forget it,” I urge strongly, quietly, so as not to alert any nearby faculty. “It barely even stings.”
His angry gaze finds my pleading one. “And you’re full of shit.”
I flinch, and he winces.
Stepping back, I hunch my shoulders, hiking my bag higher up my back.
“Sorry,” he mutters, before releasing a sharp breath. His hand comes up to his ashy brown hair, and I don’t miss the tremble in his fingers.
I frown. “Seriously. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“But it is,” I mumble. Shaking my head, I look down at the floor. It’s not carpeted in this hall. I scoff lightly, and it’s an ugly, bitter sound. And before I can think better of it, jagged words tumble from my lips. “Just another fucking day being me. What else is new?”
I regret it immediately.
Not so much the words themselves, as the brokenness behind them.
“Jer—”
Blood roars in my ears, and I can feel my pulse quickening, throbbing in time with the ache in my jaw. My chest squeezes, and much to my horror I feel tears surging to my eyes.
No. Not now. Not now, please.
Instead of trying to get past Mason this time, I turn around and start striding quickly for whichever exit I find first, mindless of the fact that I might get caught if I go this way. Who fucking cares? What are they going to do to me that’s worse than what I’ve already gone through today?
I hear my name being called after me. Sense the footsteps thudding toward me. A hand clutches my shoulder, a hold I quickly try to rip out of.
“Let me go,” I grit out.
“No. Hold up. Jer?—”
I whirl on him. “Let go!”
His eyes round at my graveled outburst.
“Just fucking let me go,” I beg, my voice raw and as hopeless as I feel inside. My nostrils flare, and my vision blurs. My chest rises and falls rapidly.
Mason’s shaking his head, and all I can think is?—
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so much.
I don’t know where it comes from. I don’t even know if it’s him I’m aiming those words at, or me. Maybe both of us. Maybe every single person in this school. The whole world…
He darts a look around us, his jaw steeling over, and then my hand’s engulfed in his warm, strong grip. I don’t even have a second to process it, before I’m being dragged into the nearest boy’s bathroom.
Inside, he releases me, and the next thing I know, I’m being crushed in a hug.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hand clasping the back of my head. “It’s gonna be okay.”
A broken sound erupts from me, muffled by the flannel and cotton covering his shoulder. My jaw smarts at the rough contact, but I don’t make it known. I relish in the pain. Let it mingle with the sweet ache that comes from being wrapped in Mason’s arms.
Mason…
My best friend.
