I Wish You The Best

21 - Delilah

If I look at another line in this textbook I think my brain is going to explode. I've been studying nonstop since the moment I woke up, and my stomach is caving in. When Mason texted all I saw was an opportunity for food.

And maybe to see him.

A part of me has been missing him, and missing Mason is a dangerous thing considering he doesn't even permanently live here anymore. Danger can also be exhilarating which Is what I'm choosing to focus on considering I invited him over for dinner.

Two adults just catching up and having dinner.

The front doorbell rings and I stand up, straightening out my sweats and hoodie. I chose comfort today and almost every day that I don't work. Since exams were happening I had the week off from work which was a blessing in disguise. I think I'd take the rush of the hospital and long hours over the panic of studying anyway.

"Hey," I greet Mason.

He smiles and I move over letting him in. I watch him as he looks around the house. He's wearing dark faded jeans and a jacket over a long sleeve black shirt. His arm is still in the sling and I remind myself to ask him how much longer that's going to be. Even though he's dressed casually he still drives my head wild.

"Your Dad home?" When he turns to look at me I clear my throat and step around him.

"No, he's out meeting some friends. Thought it'd be good for him to get out of the house." I push my notebooks off the couch giving him a place to sit.

I wouldn't call our living room small, but it wasn't nearly the size of Masons' own house. The moment he enters it though, it feels as though we've entered Alice in Wonderland and taken a bite of the "eat me" cake. His presence fills up the room and reminds me of just how much of an impact he has on a space.

All six feet and five inches of him.

"We never really talked about your mother and how your father's doing. We don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd like to hear it." The couch dips from his weight and he leans forward resting his elbow on his knee.

We're sitting on opposite ends of the couch and I find myself wanting to move closer to the heat of his body, but I don't.

Friends remember.

"Maybe another time." I try to smile. "I've had enough depressing talks this past month that will last me a lifetime." I reach forward, taking a sip from my water bottle. I feel his eyes follow my movements, dropping to my lips when I drink.

I gulp.

"Yea, yea." He clears his throat.

I wonder if being back in my house is weird for him, like the first time I visited his home. Like coming back to a place that was as familiar as the back of your hand but now different and forgotten.

I watch him look around, taking in the living room. He scans the pictures on the walls and the frames on the side tables. He stops on one of my father, mom, and me before looking away.

I remember the first time he told me about his own mother, and what had happened to her. I remember the devastation and guilt he held from it. I consistently told him nothing was his fault, and that he is not to blame for his mother's actions. Her choices were hers, her own mind working against her.

"Big test?" He grins, pointing to my stack of books.

"Unfortunately. I have exams coming up." A reminder of how little I've actually been studying but it doesn't matter, that was another day's problem. This moment's own problem was how I was going to get through this night, with my friend.