Sounds of Silence: A Contemporary Romance

by Candace Wondrak

  “It was fine.”

  “Just fine? The world didn’t spin? Or stop spinning?”

  I wasn’t sure whether she was asking me that seriously or not. I mean, when Calum’s lips had been on mine, I’d felt a lot of odd things, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that…

  She must not have wanted a real answer to that, for she went on, “Calum said he had a good time. He likes you, Bree. Kyle told me he’s mad at himself for messing up your first date.” And then, when Michelle said what she said next, I felt like I was punched in the gut: “He wants to see you again.”

  You might be wondering why I felt punched in the gut. That wasn’t a good way to feel, after all, but it was the only way I could describe how I felt hearing Michelle say that. It couldn’t be true. Calum must’ve known Kyle was only spying for Michelle, who would come home and tell me everything. He was just being nice. He didn’t really want to see me again.

  Michelle got up, climbing onto my bed with me. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “but he does. Calum wouldn’t say he wants to see you again and not mean it. He’s not like that.”

  I shook my head once. “He’s going back home sooner or later, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Dude, a few hours away isn’t that far. Now, if we lived in California and he lived in New York, that would be different. Come on, Bree. You have a car. He’s got one, too. A few hours is nothing. Plus, you know, cell phones have been a thing for a while now—” She stopped when I whacked her with my pillow, giggling.

  “I just…” I trailed off, once again hugging my pillow. “Why would he want to continue to see me when there are tons of women closer to home that are better than me?”

  Michelle responded to that by yanking my pillow out of my hands and hitting me on the back of the head with it. “Shut up,” she said. “Don’t think like that. The worst that could happen is you try to go long distance and it doesn’t work. Sometimes things happen. That’s life.”

  Getting a lecture from my eighteen-year-old sister again. Wonderful.

  What she did not understand was that I’d rather not go through that heartbreak. I’d rather not try and fail.

  My phone buzzed, and before I remembered who it could possibly be, I went to pick it up, to glance at the screen. Mason’s name appeared, along with a snarky and jealous message about how, if he was miserable last night thinking about me on my date, I should be miserable, too. That it was only fair.

  Dear God, that one was ridiculous.

  Michelle watched me, saw my reaction to the message. “Who’s that? Is that Calum?”

  I met her inquisitive stare, suddenly realizing I was smiling. Oops. I set my phone down before I responded to him. “No, it’s…it’s someone else.”

  “Someone else? Another boy? Please tell!”

  I shushed her, not wanting Mom or Dad to hear. “No one,” I said. “Just a boy I have to work on a group project with.”

  “You were smiling at your phone,” she said. “You don’t smile like that to just another boy. You like him. Is that why you’re hesitant about Calum?”

  “I do not like him.”

  Michelle smirked, as if she knew something I didn’t. “What’s his name?”

  “Mason.”

  “Is Mason funny? Tell me about him.”

  I knew my sister would not leave this alone until I told her everything she wanted to know about him, so I heaved a long sigh and did just that. I told her how we’d met, how he’d been late to class one day. I told her how insistent he’d been about sitting beside me after that, how he’d basically forced himself to be my partner. She was not too thrilled to hear that we’d already met outside of class, that I’d kept him from her for this long.

  I did not tell her what Mason told me, though—that he was jealous of my date, and everything else he’d said. I also kept the morning hot chocolate routine to myself, too, figuring it’d be best. This way, it would sound like Mason and I were just classmates trying to do a stupid group project.

  “Sounds like he likes you,” Michelle remarked with a sly grin.

  Ugh, it sounded like that, even with me keeping a few choice things to myself? What the hell.

  “He does not,” I said, even though a teeny, tiny part of me hoped it was true. I had no idea why Mason and Calum made me feel these things, but they did. I hated it, because I knew, eventually, I’d be let down, destroyed, my heart torn out of my chest and ripped into a dozen pieces, whether they were purposefully cruel to me or not.

  I was more fragile than most people, I think.

  “Why don’t you invite him over here to work on that project of yours, then?” Michelle suggested. “Be alone while you two work and see what happens. I bet I’m right.”

  I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from my know-it-all sister. “And if you are? What about Calum?”

  “What about him? You’re not exclusive yet, so as far as I’m concerned, you can date anyone you want right now. Maybe it’ll make him jealous. Maybe it’ll make him want to ask you to be his girlfriend officially before he goes back home.” Michelle shrugged. “Or maybe you’ll realize you really do like this Mason. Either way, you have to try.”

  I did not agree with her there. Personally, I didn’t think I had to try anything, but I knew, now that Michelle knew about my recently complicated life, she wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. For both our sakes, it would be easier if I did as she suggested.

  Damn it.

  “I guess,” I said, glancing down at my phone again. Having Mason come over would mean I’d have to ask Mom and Dad about it, which would then mean I’d have to spend the day cleaning the house, because heaven forbid we had someone new over and a hair was out of place.

  Really, it would be so much easier to not have Mason over, to just continue as we had been.

  That’s…that’s not what happened, though.

  Chapter Ten – Mason

  I knew I probably shouldn’t have texted Bree last night. Talk about sounding desperate. And jealous. Very, very jealous. So jealous I hardly got any sleep because I was so wrapped up in my own head, wondering if she was having a good time with him.

  Not that she could only have a good time with me, but…

  I texted her way too much last night. Probably came off sounding like a huge idiot, an idiot who did not know when to shut the hell up and take a seat. Oh, well. If there was one thing I was good at, it sure wasn’t shutting up. Anyone who knew me would say that I liked to hear myself talk.

  I went to work early on Saturday, doing a six-hour shift and getting off at twelve. I came home and showered, changed out of my work uniform. There were a few things I had to do for my classes, some online quizzes I had to take and another paper to start drafting, but all of my plans went out the window the moment I got a text message from Bree.

  Another one. I’d seen the one she’d sent earlier—I’d been working, so I didn’t respond. And then I went home, trying to keep it cool, keep it together. Basically trying not to sound like an idiot yet again.

  But it seemed now that Bree did want to talk to me. She wanted to talk to me so much she was inviting me over to her house to work on our project.

  I mean, how the hell was I supposed to say no to that? Maybe her family would be home, or her roommates, but we’d be more alone than we were at the library, that’s for sure. Could I handle being alone with her? I mean, of course I could. I wasn’t going to go apeshit and make a move she didn’t want me to make, but that’s not what I meant.

  Being alone with Bree would test me, that’s for sure. It was easy to talk and laugh when we were surrounded by other SCC students, when we were walking together on campus. But to be alone with her, in her room…I might say some things that would get me into trouble. Talk about things I shouldn’t.

  For instance, I might be tempted to say how much I wanted to ask her out, how badly I wanted to take her out on a date and make her happy. Bree didn’t know how to respond to me half the time, so I co
uld only imagine how freaked out she’d be if I went ahead and said something like that.

  I didn’t want to upset her, or freak her out. I only wanted to make her happy.

  Before I persuaded myself out of it—although, who the hell was I kidding? There was no way I could ever turn down an invitation to spend more time with Bree, no matter where we would be—I texted her back with an affirmative. She told me a time and her address, and I was practically exploding with giddiness. In fact, I didn’t think I knew when the last time I’d been so excited was.

  I went through my closet, trying to find an outfit that said I cared, but not an outfit that said I was trying too hard. Trying too hard was kind of my specialty, and I liked to think it made me endearing, but you never knew. Bree was unlike any other girl I’d ever met, and I didn’t want to scare her away.

  The only thing I wanted to do was the opposite, actually. Reel her in, hook her and not let her go.

  Okay, that analogy took a weird turn, but whatever.

  By the time I was finally happy with my outfit choice, it was time to leave. Her house was twenty-five minutes away, apparently on the other side of the map from SCC as me. Hopefully, by the time I got there, my nerves would calm down.

  That was probably too much to hope, with how much I liked this girl.

  I couldn’t even say why I liked her so much; I just did. I thought about her a lot. Her bright green eyes that usually held a seriousness that killed me inside. Her almost obscenely pink hair that hurt to look at in the sunlight. The way her shoulders slouched anytime she was sitting down, how she seemed to curl into herself, as if she didn’t want to exist. Her smile, her laugh. I’d only seen and heard them a few times, but I wanted so much more.

  Before I knew it, I was pulling up to her house, parking on the side of the street. She lived in a small development, so cars on the street were allowed—a good thing, because it seemed like their driveway was pretty full already.

  This did not look like a rented house. This looked like a house Bree would live in with her family.

  I was about to meet her family, I realized. As I got out of the car, I glanced down at myself. I’d chosen dark blue jeans, a thin jacket, and a clean grey shirt. Did I look okay? Did I look like someone a girl would want to introduce to her family? I had no idea.

  I’d had girlfriends before, a few, but it’d been a little while, if I was honest. Though, even with those past girlfriends in the picture, I couldn’t say whether or not I’d ever wanted to date someone as badly as I wanted Bree. She had somehow built her own altar inside my head, and I couldn’t stop her.

  Well, it was too late now to turn around and change. I was here, so I had to suck it up and meet her family while looking like a loser.

  Not sure what I would’ve worn, but whatever. Maybe it was time for me to go shopping and buy some new clothes. Dress to impress and all that.

  My palms were sweaty as I headed up to the front porch, going to the front door. I rang the bell, waiting for someone to answer the door. Hopefully Bree. Hopefully she could introduce me to her family, and I wouldn’t be thrust into meeting some stranger immediately.

  Thankfully, it was Bree’s pink head that I saw first, her small frame that greeted me as she opened the door. “Hey,” she said, sounding just like she did yesterday.

  God, had it only been twenty-four hours? Felt like forever since I’d seen her.

  That was crazy, I knew, but I also knew that meant I had it bad for her. I had it bad for Bree, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she felt anything for me. She seemed like she had her walls up, but fortunately for her, if I was anything, it was persistent.

  “Hi,” I said, grinning immediately the moment I saw her. For a few moments, we stood there, staring at each other, neither one of us making any moves or saying anything else.

  I saw an older woman walk by, her blonde hair pinned to the back of her head with a clip. “Oh, let the poor boy in, Bree. Don’t make him stand out there all afternoon.” Judging by her age and the tone of her voice, I knew she had to be Bree’s mother.

  Bree’s cheeks reddened a bit, and her eyes fell to her feet. “Come in,” she said, the words coming out as tiny, unconfident squeaks. She stepped aside, letting me in. “That’s my mom,” she said, gesturing toward the blonde woman who’d just walked into the kitchen.

  I went to shake her hand, not knowing what else to do. “Mason.”

  As Bree closed the front door, her mother gave me a smile. It was very reminiscent of the smile I’d seen on Bree’s face every now and then. “Good to meet you, Mason.”

  Bree led me into the living room, where an older man sat reading something on an iPad. He had glasses on, and he was still holding the iPad an arm’s distance away, squinting a bit. Typical dad behavior, if I ever saw some.

  “Dad,” Bree said, causing the man on the chair to set down the iPad and look at us, “this is Mason. We’re working on a group project together.”

  “Hello, sir,” I said, offering him my hand.

  He took it, but he quickly went back to his iPad, not saying anything.

  I glanced to Bree, wondering if I did something wrong, but she said nothing, only turning to lead me up the stairs. I followed her like a puppy, watching the way she walked as she took the stairs. Today she wore another oversized sweater, no beanie on the top of her head. Dark grey leggings clung to her bottom half, and since I was behind her on the stairs, I could see the bottom curve of her ass as she took the steps ahead of me.

  Don’t ogle her ass, I told myself. If there was one place in this world I should not act like a creep, it was here, in her house, where her father could kick my ass. Not that I thought he would—plus, he wasn’t a very intimidating guy. Kind of thin and nerdy, but that was beside the point.

  I wasn’t a creep. I just, you know, liked her ass.

  Bree was about to turn into the first bedroom on the left, but another girl popped out of the room, nearly knocking herself into Bree. A tall, slender blonde who honestly looked nothing like Bree. Her hair was straightened, makeup lining every inch of her face. She was pretty, but I only had eyes for the pink-haired one.

  “Michelle,” Bree mumbled, not looking happy. Her sister?

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said, puffing herself up as she eyed me up and down. I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, like I was some cow at the county fair being judged. Hmm. Maybe a cow wasn’t the best animal to use. “I’m her sister, and while she might be quiet and nice, I’m not, so keep that in mind, Mason.” She said nothing else, purposefully bumping shoulders with me as she walked across the hall, I assumed into her own room.

  Bree met eyes with me, apologetic. “I’m sorry about her. She’s…protective of me.” She disappeared into her room, and I followed her.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Older siblings usually are.”

  She stopped and looked at me, and then she said something that made me feel like a huge idiot: “I’m the older one.”

  Oh. Right. Had to be all the makeup on her sister’s face, making her look older. Well, call me stupid.

  “Sorry,” I said, glancing around her room as she went to close the door. It was…a very boring room, honestly. Hardly any decorations, and only small watercolors hanging on the walls. No knickknacks, no collections of any kind. It was all very blah, really. She had a bed, which sat longways against a wall, a closet, a tall dresser, and a desk. That’s it.

  “It’s okay,” Bree said, rubbing her arms as she stood before me. “You’re not the first to say that.” Her green eyes narrowed a bit, and she asked, “You didn’t bring your stuff?”

  “My what?”

  “Your stuff,” she repeated, “for the project we have to work on.”

  Well, double shit. Totally forgot that was literally the entire reason I was here. This wasn’t a date. Come on, Mason. Stop being stupid.

  “I, uh, forgot it, apparently,” I said, grinning—and feeling like an absolute idiot.

  She gave me a st
range look. “That’s okay, I have my stuff.” Bree went to her desk. Her bag sat on the floor beside it, and she fell to her knees as she unzipped it. It looked like it hadn’t been touched since she got out of class yesterday.

  We ended up sitting across from each other on the floor. Her house had mainly hardwoods, but she had a large area rug covering most of it in her room. As she got out her notebook, I couldn’t help but watch her. Right now, I think we were at the stage where we were spitting out ideas about how to get a big subject pool for our questionnaire, but that wasn’t what was on my mind right now.

  What was on my mind was Bree and her date last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. As I stared at her, my gaze dropped to her lips. Did they kiss? I didn’t like the thought of those lips touching someone else.

  Why? That much was obvious. I wanted those lips to be mine.

  I must’ve been staring too hard at her, for she said, “What?”

  Blinking, I echoed, “What?” Man, if anyone was handing out awards for the stupidest response, I think I’d win today.

  “You’re staring at me,” Bree whispered, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. That little habit of her drove me nuts, because I wanted to bite that bottom lip, run my tongue over it, taste her and swallow her moans.

  Okay, hold up. That was way too inappropriate right now. Get it together.

  “No, I’m not,” I said, totally still staring at her—but at least now I wasn’t staring at her mouth. Now I gazed steadily into her eyes, their green hue reminiscent of how envious I was another guy had gone on a date with her. Twice, now.

  Bree fiddled with the pen she’d gotten out a few moments ago. “You are,” she said.

  “Maybe I am,” I admitted. “A little.” She lifted her eyebrows, which caused me to further say, “Okay, a lot.”