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Arielle Evans 

I love him. I really do. Although we have already said the dreaded three words to each other, I remind him every chance I get; I really don't care if it annoys him. I like him to know how I feel. Ashley hardly ever comes near us anymore, which makes me feel guilty but good. At least she's not one of those jealous ex-girlfriends.

I walk hand in hand with Mason as we stroll the streets of downtown, the sun's heat beating down on us. Mason lets go of my hand briefly to wipe the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. Just as he is about to take my hand again, my phone lets out a shrill shriek, and I pull my hand away to reach into my pocket for the annoyingly loud cell phone. Harry is displayed on my lock screen, and I swipe my index finger over the smooth surface, holding it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I say.

"Arielle Jessica Evans. Haven't heard from you in a while." Harry replies.

"Same to you, Harold." I tease.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Nothing, just touring downtown with Mason." I tell him.

"Who is Mason?" Harry inquires, and I can just imagine his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

"My boyfriend." I bite my lip, my teeth grazing over the raw, pink skin.

"Oh..." Harry's voice softens, and I instantly feel bad.

"Um...well, I gotta go. Talk to you later, Haz." I press my front teeth down on one area of my lip until I can taste blood.

"Bye." he says softly before ending the call.

"Who is Harry?" Mason asks as we continue walking. I groan internally at both of the boys' curiosity, but choose to answer him anyway.

"He's Marcel's twin brother. I met him the other day." I sigh, raking a hand through my thick hair, I quickly tie it in a messy bun before taking Mason's hand once again, swinging it back and forth between us.

"Oh, I didn't know Marcel had any siblings." Mason said.

"Well, he has Harry, obviously, and then they have Gemma, who is a few years older. She's really nice." I explain.

"Oh." Mason nods in understanding. "I wish I had a sibling."

"Me too." I agree. We walk in silence for a while, merely observing the buildings around us. To my surprise, it is not a comfortable silence. Instead, it is an awkward, uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air. "We should get going, yeah?" I clear my throat.

"Yeah." he agrees, nodding quickly. He drops my hand, and I look down at the ground, hurt. I shove my hands in my pockets and speed up a littler bit, walking a few steps ahead of Mason. "Why are you walking so fast?" he asks.

"I'm just tired and I wanna get home, that's all." I lie swiftly.

"Oh. Okay." He nods, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. I slow down so that I am walking next to him, and we reach his car within the next few minutes. I sit in the car, and we drive home with the same uncomfortable silence as before. Mason quickly pecks my cheek, his cheeks flushed, as I get out of the car.

"Aren't you going to come inside?" I ask. Ever since we made up, he has been walking me inside and making conversation with my mother.

"I should get going, but I'll text you later." He looks away, and my eyes narrow in frustration.

"Alright, whatever. Bye." I snap before stalking inside the house and slamming the door behind me.

"Ari?" Mom calls.

"What?" I snap.

"Where's Mason?" she asks, quickly scanning the area.

"He clearly had somewhere to be. I'm going to shower." I say furiously before stomping up the stairs and going into my room, shutting the door behind me so that Mom doesn't get angry with me for slamming doors. I yank off my clothes before stepping into the scorching water streaming from the shower head and letting the droplets hit my skin like daggers. I scrub my hair angrily, letting a fraction of my fury out with every scrub. When I'm finished, I wrap a towel around my thin figure and step back into my bedroom, quickly slipping on my pajamas. I flick off the light and climb into bed, my eyes closing automatically.

The window opens and I gasp in fright, shooting up from my bed to see a tall silhouette. I turn on the lamp to see not only the figure by the window, but also the confused expression their chiseled face holds.

a/n-

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