My Heart's Choice (On Hold)

Chapter 53

Mason dropped me home from school an hour ago and I am still on my bed, stinking like trash and gazing up at my ceiling. My empty white ceiling.

I realize that my bedroom ceiling has undergone a lot of changes over the time that we've lived here. I remember it being blue at first and then Mom changed it to pink because I was a girl. At some point I insisted that it be purple, like Penny's.

And then came my first visit to the planetarium before dad moved to New York. It was his last day with us. So I wanted to hold onto it, in the form of recreating the scene on my ceiling. Next was high school and I decided that I was a tad bit too old for planets and glow-in-the-dark space-stations, which resulted in the current version of my ceiling. Boring. And White.

Now I realize that there are other things I don't want to leave behind apart from my friends. How much it sounds stupid, I still don't want to wake up to another ceiling. Ever.

Mom and Dad are at the kitchen making plans for our big move out. But I don't want to go!

My phone buzzes with a text message.

Mason : Park. Now.

When was he ever going to type explanations? Never, probably.

Despite what is going in my mind right now, I decide that it's best to try and go out for a change. A change from the hour of gazing up at my ceiling, that is.

After a quick shower and extra perfume, I pick up a novel lying on my bed and head downstairs.

"Mom! Dad! I'm going to the park," I call out to them.

A loud clang, a resonating thud and a few curse words later, Dad's head pops into view at the kitchen door. His hair and face are white in places with what I assume to be flour. Mom pops behind him a few seconds later with a large patch of sauce on her apron.

She grins widely, "We're making pizza! More like... Dad's making pizza and I'm helping him."

I give them an understanding nod, hoping that they don't burn the house down by the time I come back.

"I'll be back for dinner," I say, without much emotion as possible.

"Where did you say that you're going?" Dad furrows his brows.

"The park." I hold my book up, "For a read."

Both of them give me blank looks. Well, it is - was - universal knowledge that Dana Sanchez never leaves the comforts of her room to go out for a read.

Nevertheless, I wait for an answer. And after about a minute of them processing the information with dazed expressions, Mom gives me a smile.

"Enjoy your read. And look forward to pizza!" she says in an extra cheery tone, which somehow makes me think that she finds the whole go-to-the-park-for-a-read thing a bit fishy.

I arrive at the park, slightly breathless and clutching the novel to my chest, much for physical support. I know it sounds crazy. That is why I don't go out for a read. Ever. It does nothing other than exhaust me, that I want to go back home to my comfy bed to read.

Mason watches me from far, leaning against his car with both his arms crossed over his chest. As I approach him, I try to decipher if he is finding me funny or stupid, since he has a smile and a frown on his face at the same time.

"Hey," I say with an awkward wave.

"Hey," he smiles back.

And before I can do anything else, he grabs my arm and pulls me in for a hug. With my innocent novel squashed between us, he holds me for a while. I inhale puffs of his new cologne, which I don't remember on him before.