RED [BXB]

EIGHT

"I'm saying," Luke repeated, shooting Mason an exasperated look, "that there's no reason for us not to do it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give us a reason to do it, either!"

"But, why not? It's something you've never tried before. And we'll both enjoy it!"

"How can you be so sure?" Mason doubted, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I know for sure I'll enjoy it," Luke countered, smirking. "And you might. But you'll never know if you don't at least try."

"But I don't like fairs!"

Luke rolled his eyes. They'd been at it for almost half an hour now, and it seemed like they always managed to get back to square one. Luke really wanted Mason to tag along with him and his friends to the fair, but the latter seemed as if he'd be more willing to amputate both his legs.

It wasn't even anything grand. There was one held every year during spring break to get students motivated for their finals. It was basically a compilation of shitty carnival games, an anti-climactic roller coaster, and a Ferris Wheel that looked at the brink of collapse.

But it was fun.

For college students, it was free, and it provided a well-needed distraction from everything. The overplayed top 40s music blasting from the stereos and the greasy food both stimulated a feeling of detachment—as though the college kids had been freed from their hectic schedules and their troubled lives and transported somewhere simpler, somewhere brighter, where the biggest problem they ever had to deal with was trying not to step in someone's vomit.

And Luke wanted Mason to experience that. More than anyone else, Mason could use a break. He deserved to be absolved of his mind and all the poisoned thoughts it spewed—cortisol and vitriol and internalized homophobia—if only for a few hours. Maybe the fair could help him forget. Maybe Luke could help him forget.

Try as he might, Luke couldn't help but let that final thought linger in the back of his head. He knew it wasn't what Mason needed; hell, he knew it wasn't what he needed. Mason was full-well in the closet, so far back in there that he, himself, didn't even realize how close he was to Narnia.

He was stuck in there, the doors bolted from the outside, and his oxygen content was slowly running out. Mason was suffocating in a prison of his own making, the walls getting closer and closer together with each tick of his brain. He was a time-bomb, inevitably destined to detonate: to either self-destruct and shatter everything—including itself—into a million pieces, or to burn out and choke before it has the chance to.

Luke saw the danger in the situation—knew that with every second he allowed his eyes to wander over to Mason's body, that with every second he allowed his mind to envision fantasies of them together, he was setting himself up for major disappointment.

It wasn't as though Luke were in love with Mason. But he couldn't deny the attraction, couldn't ignore the spark, and he was pretty sure Mason felt it, too. And maybe that spark was what was destined to blow the whole thing up. Maybe it was what would light their whole worlds ablaze.

But Luke couldn't really find it in him to care, not when he'd always actively sought out danger and laid himself open for its taking. Why wouldn't he play with fire when his goal had always been to get burned?

"Listen," Luke began, suddenly serious. "I'm really not taking no for an answer. Sorry, but I won't let you miss out on something as fun as this."

Mason opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Luke jumped in before he could. "We'll go for an hour. If you don't like it, we can leave."

Mason really didn't want to go. It was going to be smelly and nauseating and exhausting—not exactly an ideal way for him to spend his weekend. He didn't want to cave into the puppy-eyed pout Luke was blackmailing him with, but, oh boy, it was hard.

And just like that, Mason found himself seated in the passenger seat of Luke's car, frowning grumpily as he mourned the loss of a beautiful Saturday afternoon ruined by clowns and kids. Luke, too distracted with the glory of victory, wore a million-watt smile that was almost meant to taunt the other's sour mood.

"Aw, don't pout," Luke cooed, leaning over the armrest to pinch Mason's cheek.

Annoyed, he swatted the hands away, scowling. "Shut up and drive, Hale."

Luke threw his head back, laughing giddily. And, though discontented with their current situation, Mason couldn't help but smile slightly, Luke's excitement far too contagious for him to resist. It was a short drive, and when they pulled into the overcrowded parking lot, Mason began to regret every life decision he'd ever made which led him to that moment.

They were supposed to meet Luke's friends there, and Mason wasn't ready to admit how much he'd actually been looking forward to that. It'd been a while since he last saw them, and he had missed how easy it seemed to converse with them. Maybe this time around, he'd even make an effort to get to know Zoya better. With what he'd learned about her and Luke's relationship, Mason couldn't help but take interest in her—an odd sense of respect for her confidence and self-security.

It really wasn't hard to spot the trio. In a sea of people who all looked painfully average, Eric, Nicky, and Zoya stood out like sore thumbs. Reluctantly, Mason forced down the happiness and excitement that threatened to overcome his features.

"Mason!" Nicky exclaimed joyfully, throwing an arm across his shoulder. "I'm so glad you made it!"

Mason smiled down at her, then greeted Eric with slight enthusiasm. "Good to see you again, guys."

He then turned to Zoya, who was too occupied sucking faces with Luke to spare him a greeting. As if feeling eyes on her, though, she abruptly turned, locking gazes with Mason. Her expression was smug, almost condescending.

"Hi, Marcus."

"It's Mason, actually," he corrected. She didn't react much: only offered a tight-lipped smile with a fake apology communicated through her irises.

Mason raised an eyebrow, puzzled. There was a certain animosity surrounding her that he just couldn't seem to comprehend. Last time he checked, Mason had not done anything to particularly or purposefully harm her. For that, he didn't really understand why she was being so aggressive towards him.

Luke must've sensed the tension, because he broke in to save the day—as always. "Oh, lighten up, Marcus. I only have an hour to change your mind, remember?"