by Emily Lowry
“I don’t even remember the last time I was in the treehouse,” I said.
“Feels like forever,” Mason said. He nodded to himself, his expression resolute. “We should do it.”
“Do what?”
“A treehouse movie night. Get some popcorn, some snacks, and set up your laptop in the treehouse. Then watch a bunch of movies. Just like when we were kids.” Mason opened the refrigerator. “We can head over to High Street and grab everything we need. My treat.”
Was this actually happening? Mason was picking me over a party at Hideaway?
I imagined spending the night watching movies in the treehouse with Mason. Visions of snuggling up to him flew through my head, completely uninvited.
My stomach flipped.
Calm down, Zoe. It’s Mason. He wants to revisit childhood memories. Childhood. No snuggling involved.
We walked to Highstreet to grab snacks: cheese popcorn, salt and vinegar chips, sour candy, and Highline Soda — Root Beer for Mason, Blueberry Blast for me. I rummaged through our storage room and pulled out our old sleeping bags. They smelled musty, but they would work. Before I knew it, I was climbing the rickety wooden ladder to the tree house.
“If I fall, you better catch me,” I shouted over my shoulder.
“No promises,” Mason said. I could practically hear his smirk.
The treehouse was different than I remembered it. Smaller, somehow. There was a tiny table, which we used to play cards on, and then a raised bench in the corner that was just large enough to squeeze in two sleeping bags. I set my laptop on the table.
Mason climbed into the treehouse. He bumped his head and winced. “I think this place has shrunk.”
“No,” I said, “your head has expanded so it could fit your massive ego, and now you can’t stop bumping it on things.”
Smiling, Mason unfurled the sleeping bags. “You’re probably right.”
I poured our snacks into giant plastic bowls, then set up the laptop. “Our first movie is ‘It Came from Beneath the Stairs.’ The remake, not the original.”
“Opening with a horror movie?”
I climbed inside my sleeping bag, careful not to disturb the snacks. “Just like when we were kids. We’ll alternate between horror movies and romantic comedies. The cheesier the better.”
“I wonder what’s cheesier: a really bad horror movie, or a really bad romantic comedy?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. Either way, we’ll be cringing a lot.”
I was right. Our horror movie opened with a scantily clad teenager hearing a thump in the basement. She went to investigate, and sure enough, that was the end of her screen time.
“Just like the original,” Mason said. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“You remember the original?”
“We watched it when we were kids.”
“Back when everything was simple,” I said.
Mason laughed. “Remember the types of problems we’d have when we were eight or nine?”
“Mom made me eat broccoli,” I whined playfully.
“I don’t want to go to bed — I’m not tired!”
“My bike isn’t as fast as Tyler’s.”
Mason bumped me with his shoulder. “Maybe you were just slow?”
I bumped him back. “Says the boy who never tried to ride a bike in his Sunday dress.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe I did try to ride my bike while wearing my dress.”
I laughed. “Yes, I distinctly remember you in your frilly Sunday dress. Rose print, was it?”
“Lilacs,” Mason said, grinning. “Now stop bumping me. You’re spilling the popcorn.”
I bumped him once more for good measure. When I thought about it, it was amazing how different life was back then. How different it was now. If life could change that much in a few years, how different would it look five years from now? Ten years from now?
“What’re you going to do after school?” I asked.
“According to Life Skills, I’m moving to Colorado to become a radio personality,” Mason said.
“And not according to Life Skills?”
Mason twisted the top off a soda bottle and took a drink. “I’ve got a football scholarship to UCLA.”
He said this with all the excitement of someone reporting on tomorrow’s weather.
“Are you going to take it?”
“Dad’ll kill me if I don’t,” he said. He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped his lips shut.
“But…?”
He sighed. “But I don’t know if I’m smart enough for college.”
My brow furrowed. He looked… serious. Did he actually not think he was smart enough? Sure, Mason wasn’t on the Honor Roll, but he was a decent student. “You’re smart,” I said. “You get good marks.”
“I don’t know if I’d call them good,” he said. “Let’s settle for above average. But that’s beside the point. I’m the starting quarterback, and I only get above average marks. If you’re on the football team and your grades fall too far, they don’t let you play. And let’s face it — our school is big into football.”
I waited.
Mason stared at the movie. “It’s such a cliché, but I know that regular rules don’t apply to me. If I skip class, the teachers ignore it so I can still play. It seems like it would be awesome, but any time I get a mark back on something, I wonder whether I got a good mark because I deserved it, or…”
“Or whether they’re giving you a good mark so you can play.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Hard to know if you’re actually smart when everyone is bending over backwards to prove you’re smart.”
Instinctively, I squeezed his hand. “I think you’re smart. Look at everything you did to set me up with Kevin. If nothing else, you could be a private detective.”
“Solving dating mysteries for girls everywhere,” Mason joked.
“If you can figure me out, you can figure out anything,” I said.
He squeezed my hand. “You’re not as awkward as you think. How are things going with Kevin?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I think they’re going well? But I’ve thought that before, then — boom. Everything goes pear-shaped. That’s what it always does when I like a guy.”
“Not this time,” Mason said. “Not with me as your sidekick. But even if it does, it’s not a big deal. You’re still awesome. You’ll find someone.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said. It was never that simple. “My parents met in college. Love at first sight, or something like that. And despite the divorce, my mom keeps telling me that college is the best time to meet someone. Don’t worry about meeting boys in high school, she says. College boys are way better. Way smarter. But I know that if I don’t have any experience dating before college, even if I do meet the one, I’ll just blow it.”
Mason didn’t reply.
That was probably for the best, as I wasn’t done. “And what if the world’s like that? What if there is only one person you’re supposed to be with? And what if I meet that one person in college, and I screw it up because I don’t have any experience? Then what? I live alone with my cats?”
There it was. All of my insecurities laid bare. The truth that I had known for a long time was that it was never about Kevin. Yes, I had a crush on him. A crush I’d had since forever. But it was so much bigger than him. I needed to know that I could do this. I needed to know that if I liked a boy, I could get him to date me.
“You probably think it’s stupid,” I said.
“It’s not stupid,” Mason whispered. “And I’m sure that if there is one person for everyone, your one is going to be pretty understanding. He’s going to be amazing, too.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve dated before. You know what you’re doing — I don’t even know how to kiss.”
Mason shrugged, still staring straight ahead at the laptop. “You can learn how to kiss. Heck, I could teach you how to kiss.”
&n
bsp; My heart practically stopped. Suddenly, I was hyper aware of everything around me. The warmth of Mason’s hand, his fingers entwined with mine. The scent of his body, fresh laundry and ocean salt and sunscreen. How handsome he looked in the darkness. “You would teach me how to kiss?”
“If you want to know,” he said casually.
Of course I wanted to know. I tried to keep my voice steady and prevent my hands from trembling. “Sure, if you’ll teach me,” I said, trying to match the casualness in his voice.
We both sat up.
His eyes met mine with an unusual intensity. They were exceptionally blue in this light. “When you kiss someone, it’s not about being fancy. There’s no trick to it. Just think of it as an expression of how much you like someone.”
My hands were still trembling with a nervous energy, so I folded them in my lap. “I’m going to need more than that,” I said. “Do I lick my lips? Put my tongue in their mouth? Ooh, or bite their lip? I heard that’s a thing.”
“For your first kiss, I’d recommend trying exactly none of the above.” Mason grinned. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. The key is to take it slow. The best part of the kiss is the anticipation. There’s this sweet spot, when you know you’re about to kiss, but you haven’t actually kissed yet.”
“And how am I supposed to know when that’s happening?”
“Because he’ll do something like this.” Mason brushed my hair away from my eyes, but left his hand on my cheek. His touch felt like an electric shock. “If a guy touches your face, that means he wants to kiss you. So if you don’t want to kiss him back, this is when you pull away, turn your head, or tell him he’s got food in his teeth.”
“Spinach in his teeth, got it.” My heart was beating so loudly I was sure Mason could hear it.
“You need to watch his eyes,” Mason said. His eyes were locked with mine, a perfect blend of ocean blues and greens. “His eyes will move to your lips. Just a quick glance. Just like this.”
Mason’s gaze flickered from my eyes, to my lips, then back to my eyes.
My stomach flipped. Why was I suddenly finding it so hard to breathe? And was it hot in here?
“Okay,” I croaked. “What’s next?”
“You do the same thing,” Mason said. “Glance at his lips. Just for a heartbeat. If he knows what he’s doing, he’ll know this means you want to kiss him.”
“I didn’t think there’d be so much science involved,” I said.
Mason smiled. “It’s chemistry, isn’t it?”
“Clever,” I said. I glanced at Mason’s lips. They looked soft, and I had the almost insatiable urge to press my mouth against his. I resisted.
“Then you both lean in.”
Mason leaned in slowly.
I leaned towards him.
“You need to close your eyes,” Mason said as his face came close to mine. “Close your eyes just before your noses touch.”
His nose brushed against mine, and I closed my eyes. I felt the heat from his face, and I tasted his scent. Warm, fresh, earthy. Like a summer day in a forest. At that moment, I wanted to kiss him so badly it almost hurt.
“Tilt your head, like this,” Mason whispered.
I felt something rough on my lips. Not soft, like I expected his mouth to feel. Startled, I open my eyes.
Mason was still there, his face next to mine. But our lips weren’t touching. He’d cleverly positioned his thumb in the space between our mouths.
I had the urge to bite his thumb just so he would move it, just so I could feel his mouth on mine, but before I gave in, he pulled away.
“Obviously, you won’t put your thumb in the way,” he said. “I just did it because you should save your actual first kiss for someone you care about.”
My breath caught in my throat. “How long is a kiss supposed to last?”
“Just long enough to feel like you want a bit more,” Mason said.
I already knew exactly what that felt like.
25
Zoe
Sunlight filtered through the window, burning my face.
I wished someone would close the curtains. I rubbed my eyes and squinted against the sunlight. What happened last night? Why was I in my sleeping bag in the treehouse? And what was that steady thumping noise?
The night came rushing back to me. Our decision to watch movies in the treehouse. Our talks about what we wanted for our futures.
Our almost kiss.
And now, my sleeping bag was curled against his, my head resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. We must have fallen asleep in the middle of the night and, when we were both asleep, I rolled over and accidentally cuddled against him. It was an easy mistake to make. The treehouse was cramped, after all.
The excuse didn’t stop the heat from rising to my cheeks.
I pulled away from Mason and prayed that I hadn’t left a drool stain on his t-shirt. The fabric was clean, thank goodness. It would be the ultimate Zoe move to literally drool on the guy I liked.
Whoa.
The guy I liked?
No, that wasn’t right.
I liked Kevin.
Kevin.
K-E-V-I-N.
That was the whole point in spending time with Mason, wasn’t it? So I could get closer to Mason?
NO.
Not so I could get closer to Mason.
So I could get closer to Kevin.
KEVIN.
“I’m a disaster,” I mumbled.
Mason yawned. He opened his eyes, saw me, and jumped backwards.
I winced. I must’ve been a sight to see first thing in the morning. No makeup. My hair pointing out at weird angles. And — the worst part — morning breath. I made a mental note to cover my mouth whenever I spoke. “I know I’m not the hottest girl at school, but I like to think boys don’t jump with fright when they see me.”
Mason chuckled. “It’s not that. I’m not used to waking up next to someone. And trust me, it’s not your looks. The sunlight’s giving you a bit of a halo right now. Like an angel.”
“Smooth recovery, Space Face.”
“I thought so,” Mason said. He sat up and stretched, the hem of his shirt lifting just enough to see his abs. He swore. “Did we stay out here all night? Does anyone know?”
“Let’s hope not,” I said. Tyler would never let either of us live it down if he caught us accidentally — and it was an accident — cuddling in the treehouse. And mom? She would ground me for life for spending a night with a boy. Even if it was just Mason. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“I’ll lead the way,” Mason said. “Take the hit if I need to.”
“It was both of our faults,” I said.
Nervously, we descended the ladder and headed towards the house. I peeked inside the patio door, but everything was dark. Tyler probably crashed at a friend’s, and Mom must’ve been out running errands. Upstairs, my bedroom door was still closed.
“They probably came home and thought I was sleeping in my room,” I said.
“So our secret’s safe?”
“Our secret’s safe,” I agreed.
Mason let out a relieved sigh. “Now that that’s off our minds, you have any plans today?”
“Physics homework.”
“You sound really excited.”
“So, so, excited,” I said sarcastically. “Why enjoy your youth when you can lock yourself in a room and review formulas?”
Mason smiled and ran his hands through his hair. “Well, if you’re looking for a distraction…”
“Please,” I said. “Distract me.”
“How do you feel about breakfast?”
My stomach growled in agreement.
I dug around in the medicine cabinet and hurled a new toothbrush at Mason, before I fled to my bedroom. After a quick makeup application, hairbrush and scrubbing away of my morning breath, I changed into jean shorts and an off the shoulder top.
Before heading back downstairs, I checked my reflecti
on in the mirror. Twice.
What was happening to me? Since when did I care what Mason thought?
We went to High Street to feast. It was Sunday morning, and the cafés were packed with people. We stood in line for a half hour to get toasted bagels smeared with avocado, a slice of tomato, and two strips of bacon, along with freshly-made oat milk flat whites — the latest coffee craze in Beachbreak.
Rather than stuff ourselves into one of the tiny tables, we walked across the street and curled our toes in the sand as we strolled along the beach, the morning surf splashing against our ankles. We chatted a bit, but mostly we just walked together in a companionable silence. Being alone with Mason was starting to feel like the most natural thing in the world.
He took a sip of his coffee and eyed the waves. “Feels like a beach day, doesn’t it?”
“I could do a beach day,” I said.
26
Mason
As I jogged home to get my stuff for our beach day, I couldn’t get Zoe out of my head. I changed into my swim shorts, shoved a towel in my backpack, and briefly considered bringing her surprise present from the Night Market before deciding against it. I’d save that for later, for just the right time.
Zoe had the type of personality that made you miss her, even when she was right next to you — which was why I was so excited to have her to myself on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
I met her on the beach at Highline Hideaway. It was still early enough that it wasn’t packed with kids from school yet. I had Zoe all to myself.
She was standing next to her deflated unicorn. She smiled at me, then nudged the unicorn with her toes. “You’re full of hot air. Why don’t you blow him up?”
“Me? Hot air? Never.” I popped the cap off the spout, filled my lungs, and breathed life into Sparkles. When I was done, we put him in the water.
Zoe set a cooler on the inflatable unicorn, then we both hopped on. There was just enough room for the two of us. Which was good. Because suddenly, I was all too aware of just how cute she looked in her baby blue one-piece bathing suit.
