Ares
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- Parts 11
Wiping sauce from his eye, he stood, slow and dangerous, fist cocked and loaded. But before he could swing, someone grabbed his arm.
Jameson? Jethro? Whatever.
He turned with fury-eyes now matching the spaghetti-and prepared to wreck the poor guy's life.
"D-dude, that's a girl!" J-name blurted out, halfway to tears and fully in self-preservation mode.
Mason froze. What.
He whipped around-only to find an empty space where Metallica had stood. Vanished with a ninja-level exit.
"Enjoying the show?" Idiot #2 called, loud enough to break the spell and nudge the cafeteria back into its usual entropy.
Mason stood there, stunned, ignoring the tissues being shoved at him like peace offerings from Idiot's girlfriend. He wasn't mad about the sauce. Not really.
He was mad that he hadn't noticed.
Metallica was a girl.
And she'd owned him.
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