The Renovation Complication

41. The Truth

                  

Mason pushes my face away, into view despite my attempts to hide. My eyes are swollen shut, face flushed, nose running.

He's stroking the hair away from my face even though it's glued with tears. Crystal irises and brass eyebrows furrow in pain. My pain. His hands cup my face as he murmurs that it's okay, it'll be alright, but I can't stop talking.

"I t-told her that I w-wished she was dead and she jump-jumped out the window."

They told me that it wasn't my fault, but they lied. Everyone lied. Everyone was lying through their teeth about the entire situation.

Your mother was fighting depression long before that, Victoria.

Yes, but she wasn't jumping out of windows into pools four stories down until I invited her to. I didn't know, I didn't know, I was conceited and naïve and I didn't think I could ever bring someone to that. I don't think anyone ever thinks that they could.

"She was so cold," I sob and it looks like Mason's heart is being ripped to shreds. I suppose he doesn't do well with girls crying. I need to stop talking, everything I say makes the pain even rawer. "It was all my fault –"

"Shhhh," His forehead crinkles like he can't stand to hear me blame myself. "It's not your fault, Tori."

"It is," I insist and he shakes his head forcibly. I open my mouth to argue and he places his hand over it, strong but gentle.

"Shut up, Tori." He smiles weakly, "Don't argue back anymore. Please." He places a kiss in my hair and I think I'm turning into puddle of nerves. I need a distraction from all of these emotions, all of this crashing and battles between what I'm feeling and what I should be feeling and what I'm unsure of feeling.

My eyes wander down from his weary expression and I realise that I'm curled up on his lap. I take in our surroundings to find that we're in Mason's room, on his bed.

I said that I couldn't go home so he brought me into his.

I sniffle and nod absentmindedly, finally paying attention to the situation. I really do like Mason's room. I mean sure, all boy's rooms are a mess I guess, but I pay attention to the actual décor. It's all rich mahogany, just like the rest of his house. Deep colours that I'd take over pastels any day.

It also smells like him.

I don't get long before a ping sounds from Mason. Well, from his pocket.

And then another and another and another. Someone is frantically texting him and he groans. He pulls away slightly as it starts to ring. I read the caller ID before he declines the call to find Dylan's name.

Mason rolls his eyes and reduces the volume to silent before slamming it on the bedside table. I watch his movements silently, trying to figure out why Dylan is calling him. And then Alex.  I shudder a little, but cover it up with a shiver.

Mason's eyes pay no attention to his phone as it vibrates non-stop. Instead, they're focus on me as I watch the names pop up on his screen. Dylan. Alex. Austen. Coach Kerr.

Wait.

He finally picks it back up, and when I think he's going to pick up for his coach, he switches the thing off. Completely off.

Why are they calling him?

I gasp and my eyes widen in shock at his baffled face. "The football game." I try to make him remember, but he gives me a blank look. "You're the quarterback, Mason." He nods slowly at my realisation and I check the clock.

The game was supposed to start five minutes ago.

"What are you doing?" I ask frantically, scrambling out of his arms. He looks at me as if I've grown a third head. "They can't win without you."

He snorts and raises his eyebrows. "They're will be other games, Tori."

"Not the finals, Mason." I jump back from him, further down on the mattress and he stares at me, confused. He's acting as if it's not that big of a deal.

It is. It is a big deal. "If you don't go, they'll lose."

He rolls his eyes, "They have subs. I'm not going."

"Why?"

My neighbour half smiles at me, pulling my frail body back toward his. "Because I found you broken down on the sidewalk when I was about to leave." Oh. "And because I'm not going to let you sit alone in your room, crying your eyes out in the middle of the night."

Oh.

This is not good.

My mind is thrown back to the night I woke crying from the dream of the argument I had with my mom. I sobbed and broke down and curled up against my window. And I woke up Mason. He called out to me and I panicked. I hid from him until he went back to bed.

Because I am a coward. Because I can't face my fears. And I'm certainly not ready to now.

I meet his eyes, frightened. "You heard that?"

His eyes fall miserably, "I hear every time. I can barely sleep anymore knowing that you're crying in the other room, Tori." He spits the words, angry with himself for some unknown reason. It's not like it's his fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

"I'm sorry," I whisper and he growls. I cower into his sweater at the noise.

"Don't be. Don't ever be."

There's silence and a feeling of vulnerability overtakes me. I've revealed everything to him. He knows everything.

"Tell me something," I pull away from him and he looks confused for the thousandth time. He really doesn't know how my head works. To be honest, neither do I.

"Like what?"

"Anything. The truth." I add quietly.

He sighs and deflates a little. Chuckles humourlessly. "Remember when you asked why I was nice to you?"

"Mmmh," My face instantly takes on a displeased expression at the mention of his insensitive comment. He laughs at my reaction.

"I lied."

I narrow my eyes at him. Let me guess, I's because he thought I was ugly. Terrific.

"I, umm," He rubs his jaw as he searches for the right words. He better hope he finds them, otherwise he's going the right way for a black eye. "I knew who you were."

I tilt my head, questioning.

"Alex hadn't stopped babbling about his sister moving in at practice for a week, and I... found out the details."

I flinch at the last part. He didn't just know who I was when he first saw me, he knew what had happened to me.

"So, what?" I snap, unable to remove the disgust from my voice. "You wanted to... Express your condolences?"

"No." He exhales, "I thought you could use some... genuineness. I thought you would be tired of the sorry's and the you poor thing's. I was just trying to be... kind."

I'm unsure if I choke on a sob or a giggle at the distaste he expresses at the word. His eyes flicker to me and he chuckles also. "And then I actually met you and, well, I don't have much experience with tempers much like mine."

He's so right. I must have seemed like an absolute nutjob to him when I began scolding him for volunteering to fix my room. I guess Mason Donovan doesn't usually have people fighting back at him. They usually just cower and let him win.

I'm certainly nothing like he expected.

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I AM SO KEEN TO BE DONE WITH EXAMS. FAIL ME, I DON'T CARE. I JUST WANT TO CURL UP A REWATCH A L L OF VAMPIRE DIARIES AND CRY FOREVER AND EVER.