Love worth fighting for is a story about a girl named Angelina and her boyfriend Mason. Angelina struggles with her mental health and all Mason wants to do is help. This story follows the journey of the two of them as their relationship grows and th...
Angelina stood in front of her closet staring at the rows of clothes that seemed too bright, too bold, too bold, too everything of things she didn't want to be right now. She tugged at the hem of her faded comfort hoodie, debating whether to change into something more "party appropriate" like a dress or something. But why bother? It's not like she wanted to be there anyway.
Mia had texted earlier, her text filled with exclamation points and smiley faces:
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Angelina groaned, already feeling the anxiety in her chest that came with social events. She could picture it. Crowds of people talking too loudly, their laughter deafening in the small space.
But Mia was her best friend, and it wasn't like Angelina had left her apartment much this summer anyway. The longer she stayed home, the easier it became to retreat into her own world. A space where she didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or being too awkward.
Her anxiety gnawed at her whenever she stepped into the world outside her door.
She tossed her phone onto the bed and finally decided on a pair of baggy black jeans and a loose sweater. Her usual "blend into the background" attire. She told herself she'd go, make an appearance, and leave after an hour. No one would even notice she was there in the first place, so no one would notice she was gone.
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The party was already at a deafening volume when we pulled up to Matt's house. The music thumped, the party spilling out into the yard where people were scattered in small groups, talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves. My stomach flipped, and I'm now wishing I hadn't come. But it was too late. Mia was already pulling me inside, her hand wrapped around my wrist like a lifeline.
"Come on, Angi! You need to loosen up a little. It's summer!" Mia grinned as she dragged me through the crowd.
I tried to smile, but my brain was already spiraling. Too many people. Too much noise. I could feel my heart speeding up. My hands started to get clammy. "Just breathe Angi, just breathe."
It wasn't the first time I felt like this, but that doesn't make it any easier.
Mia let go of my wrist and disappeared into the crowd, already spotting someone she knew. And I found myself standing alone by the kitchen counter next to the 'non-alcoholic' section of the bar, which was unsurprisingly empty. I grabbed a cup of soda and sipped it slowly, trying to calm down, and look like I was doing something. I am counting down the seconds until I can leave.
After about twenty minutes, I slipped out the back door onto the deck. The cool night air felt good against my skin which was starting to feel like it was going to fry off my face. I was getting ready to leave when I realized that I didn't drive here myself, so I didn't actually have a ride home. I sat down on the steps in defeat, hugging my knees to my chest. It was easier and calmer out here. I didn't have to worry about small talk, forced smiles or the loud music that you can't hear anything over.
"Not a fan of parties either?"
The voice startled me. I looked up to see a guy standing a few feet away. His hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He had dark, slightly messy hair, and his posture was relaxed and casual, like he wasn't in any rush to go anywhere.
"No, not really," I said, my voice coming out more like a whisper, "Needed some air."
He smiled. Not in a flashy, look-at-me I'm trying to seduce you kind of way, but in a way that made me feel calm and at ease.
"Same here. Thought I'd take a break from the chaos inside."
He came and sat down on the step next to me, leaving a comfortable distance between us.
"I'm Mason, by the way."
"Angelina," I replied, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. Maybe he's been in one of my classes, or maybe I've seen him around campus. Because I certainly didn't see him at a party.
We sat in silence for a few moments, but it didn't feel awkward. If anything, it was nice, just sitting there without the pressure of making conversation. I relaxed a little, my shoulders loosening for the first time all night.
"You go to these parties a lot?" I kind of just blurted it out, wanting to break the silence.
"Not really," he said chuckling softly. "I usually make an appearance, but I'm not a huge fan of crowds. I'm really only here for Matt. He's a good friend, so I figured I'd stop by. What about you?"
I shrugged. "Mia dragged me here. She thinks I need to get out more."
He laughed at that; a genuine laugh that made me smile.
"I get it. Sometimes it feels like people expect you to love this stuff. But it's exhausting."
I nodded, surprised by how much he understood. Most people didn't seem to notice how overwhelming social situations could be. Mason's understanding tone and body language made me feel more comfortable than I had all night.
We started talking. About school, about music, about the weirdness and stress of senior year looming ahead. Turns out he's a junior just like me. Mason was easy to talk to. He didn't ask too many questions, didn't make me feel like I had to perform or pretend to be more interesting than I am. He was just there, present in the moment, and for once, that felt like enough.
The party continued inside, the bass thumping through the walls, and shaking the steps we were sitting on. But out here on the deck, time seemed to slow. I found myself opening up a little, telling him about my favorite bands, the shows and documentaries I've binge-watched, the books I love and so much more. I've never felt this comfortable around someone, let alone someone I've just met, but Mason had a way of making everything seem... easy.
As the night went on, the tension in my chest eased, and my shoulders weren't tense anymore. It was one of those rare moments when my anxiety wasn't front and center, and for a little while, I forgot about the worries that usually filled my mind.
When Mia finally came looking for me, ready to leave, I felt a twinge of disappointment. Has it really been that long? I didn't want the conversation to end, and didn't want to retreat into the shell that is my room. For once I felt happy to be out of my room. Despite that I stood up, brushed off my jeans, and turned to Mason.
"It was nice talking to you," I said with a smile, feeling a little shy now that the night was ending.
"You too," he said standing up as well. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."
I smiled. A small smile, but it was genuine. "Yeah, maybe."
Mason pulled out his phone, glancing at it for a second before looking back at me.
"Actually, do you mind if I get your number? In case we, you know, don't run into each other?"
I felt my heart skip a beat. I hadn't expected that. But I handed him my phone, watching as he added his name and number to my contacts. When he gave my phone back, our fingers brushed, and for a moment, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time.
