Chloe's World

Mason

The boy came over to me before I could even think of coming over to him.

As he got closer, I could make out some of his features in the dark. His hair was light blond and longer than most boys had their hair. He was tall and skinny, looking more like a basketball player than a football player. His smile was hard to make out but I could see that it was small, yet mysterious.

Before I could get a word out, the boy spoke. "Do you want to come up to the roof with me?!" He had to shout over the music. Somebody had decided to crank up the volume so that our ears would bleed. "You know, have a smoke!?"

"Sure!" I said without hesitating. I'm not sure why.

We left the loft. As we walked up the flight of stairs I was able to see I had been right about the features that I had seen in the dark. But now I could see more. His skin was flawless, not a pimple nor birthmark in sight. The only thing on his face was a little scar slapped on the bottom of his chin.

The best part of him was his eyes, clear and blue. Just like the ocean, they seemed to sparkle in the light.

We didn't say anything as we headed up to the roof, which didn't bother me. After being in a loud room filled with screeching teenagers and blasting music, it was nice to take a stroll down silence.

When we reached the top of the stairs, we were greeted by nothing but a rusted red door. It was covered in graffiti.

The mysterious boy opened the door and we walked onto the roof. The night sky surrounded us and the cool air rubbed against our skin. We could see off of the roof. All that was there were telephone polls connected by black wires, the parking lot crowded with cars, and a winding road that seemed to be leading nowhere.

It wasn't much. But for some reason, I found it to be beautiful.

"I like coming here," the boy standing next to me admitted. His eyes were staring at the stars that were decorating the blackness. "It relaxes me."

"So how about that cigarette?" I asked. I didn't come here to talk. I came here to smoke.

The boy just chuckled as he reached into his jacket's pocket. "You are a demander, aren't you?" He handed me a white stick and I gladly put it in my mouth.

"You have a lighter?"

"Of course," the boy replied. He took out his box of matches and lit the flame. Then he put it to the tip of my cigarette. I watched as the tip glowed orange and I felt the heavy smoke enter my lungs.

The boy lit his own before stomping on the match with his boot. "So, what's your name?"

"None of your business," I said back, keeping my eyes locked on the parking lot below.

"Come on," the boy muttered. I could tell his gaze was now on me. "I gave you a cigarette. I also gave you fire. Plus, I welcomed you to this beautiful atmosphere. The least you can do is give me a name."

I stayed silent.

"Well I'm Mason. Mason Troy. Mason Anthony Troy if you really want to get specific."

"Chloe," I didn't give him anything else but the first part of my name.

"It's very nice to meet you, Chloe."

"I've never seen you around school before," I admitted. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't picture Mason in a snobbish suit and tie uniform. But then again, I couldn't picture myself in a uniform either and I now had to wear it everyday.