All Because Of Him

seventy eight.

The sound of my car screeching to a stop in front of Jessica's house silences all of the rambling thoughts piling up in my head. I barely remember running back inside the restaurant and telling Aiden I had to go, I forget the excuse I told him and I'm not quite sure how I even managed to get back to my car and drive over here as quickly as I did.

It all happened so fast.

And since I've gotten that call I swear every minute that goes by makes it harder and harder for me to breathe.

'It's Mason. Something happened.'

It was vague; 'something happened'. It could have meant millions of things, and each reason I scrounge up in my mind is worse than the last.

The burning, wallowing pit in my stomach is growing at such a fast pace I'm afraid it'll swallow me whole.

Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble?

Fuck.

Breathe, Isabelle.

I look out the side window to see if I can spot Jessica's car anywhere, and the weight on my chest adds ten pounds when I can't find it. Fuck, I shouldn't have let him leave. I knew he wasn't in a good place, I never should have let him walk away from me as angry as he was.

I thought I knew him, the person he was and the changed person he's become, but three hours ago proved just how wrong I really was on the subject of him. I never realized how little I actually know about Mason until seeing him- the real him- the broken, beaten and damaged him.

The two of us are playing a dangerous game, we have been since our first night in the garage at the party. We're so different; he has the power to get on nerves I didn't even know were there, he makes me second guess every single one of my actions, and sometimes I can feel myself actually start to lose my mind.

But being apart from him, knowing that he's out there somewhere, possibly hurt or worse, is threatening the tethered string between the two of us to almost ring around my neck, suffocating me and making it harder to breathe or think clearly.

I had hoped that we could have fixed that broken bridge separating us from letting each other in. I wanted to talk, to work things out and give him that side of myself I've been longing to, but I never would have opened my mouth if I had known it would come to this.

My fingers toy with each other until they start to pick at my cuticles while my eyes dart down to my phone resting on top of my lap. I impatiently tap on the glass, the only thing being reflected off the screen is the time, 8:02 p.m

Breathe, Isabelle.

The small techniques I use to slow down my breathing is interrupted when I see the two blinding lights blazing behind me, piercing through the darkness. And just like that, my nerves are set on fire again.

He's here.

There's a mixture of emotions drowning inside of me as my feet instantly jump out of my car and over to Jessica's. I feel nauseous, an overwhelming, sickening amount of qualms that he doesn't want me here because of what happened the last time we were together. I feel worry, doubt, an overbearing weight that I won't be able to conceal my feelings in front of either of them.

And then there's the burning, fluttering feeling inside my chest that he's here now.

And even though my breaths are labored, exhausted and heavy to execute, I find it easier to breathe again.