Nothing's Fine

• 10: Coffee •

I blinked away my shock at Mason's question. I guess I should have seen it coming... it would make me curious if I was him. I bit my lip as my mind raced with questions I would probably never get the answer to.

Could I trust him? Why should I? What if  in a couple months, he turns around and does what Tiffany just did?

"I...uh," I started unsure how to respond. I watched as Mason's face fell a little bit.

"You can trust me... but if you really don't want to talk about it, it's okay."

"It's not that... it's well– I mean it is, but it's not your fault," I mumbled, actively looking anywhere else to avoid meeting his eyes. Mason took my hand gently and shifted so that he was looking directly into my eyes. He seemed to hold my gaze with those forest green eyes because I was frozen as he spoke.

"Charlie, I'd never do anything to hurt–"

"Don't promise me that Mason. Please," I said, interrupting him. I swallowed hard and tore my gaze away.

"Why not?" he asked. I held back a sigh at the realization that I now had two difficult questions to answer. I let my curls fall as a curtain between us and took a deep breath.

"Because you're going to break that promise. Eventually. Everyone does eventually," I said quietly. In my peripheral, I watched Mason frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asked. I sighed and bit my lip, unsure how to answer yet another one of his questions. Mason squeezed my hand lightly in encouragement, making the heat rush to my cheeks at the reminder of his hand holding mine.

"Eventually everyone leaves... or breaks your trust," I whispered. "Of course, it's going to hurt." I glanced over at him quickly and saw that he looked thoughtful.

"I'm going to keep that promise," Mason said after a moment. I stared at him skeptically.

"Why?" I asked. Mason gave me a small smile as he met my gaze.

"There's something about you that makes me want to," he said. I mentally kicked myself for blushing and broke eye contact with him. Before I could respond, we heard the bell ring, telling us class was over and it was time for our last classes of the day. I wrinkled my nose.

"I should go... I have to perform for marks today in music," I said grudgingly, making Mason chuckle in response.

"Yeah, I guess I should go to class too..." He let go of my hand as we got off the swings, and it left me wondering why the absence of his warmth felt so obvious as we walked towards the school.

***

Throughout music class, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to Mason. A million questions kept swirling in my mind like a tornado of confusion.

Why does he want to know more about me? Why does he care if I think he's a jerk or not? Why does it matter to him if I'm okay? Why does he want to promise me he won't hurt me?

I knew he couldn't keep that promise, even with the best intentions. He'd get bored of me or if I actually let him in, he'd get tired of all my baggage. He'd give up on me simply for the fact that it wouldn't make sense for him to stick around. It didn't make sense for anyone to. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

"Charlie!" my music teacher, Ms. Baker, yelled. When I glanced up, I noticed the entire class was staring at me and it looked like Ms. Baker was trying to get my attention for a little while. One of her hands was on her hip and her expression was a mixture of annoyance and concern.

"I'm sorry, Miss," I mumbled. "What did you say?"

"It's your turn to play," Ms. Baker replied with a small smile. She was a pretty laid-back teacher in her late twenties. She thought a more fun assignment would be to take a pop song and play your instrument to the karaoke version of it, provided we handed in the sheet music.