When Hope whispers it’s never good.
*********
I set a plate of homemade spaghetti on the coffee table in front of Hope. She sets her book aside and sits forward.
“Looks good,” she says. “You sneak any veggies in here?” When she smirks at me I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Just tomatoes.” I grin as she takes a bite. “And mushrooms.”
“Freaking fungus.”
I chuckle as I go back to get my plate. I sit on the floor across from her and watch her swirl her fork around on her plate. “How were classes today?” I ask. It’s usually a safe subject. Pretty much the only thing she ever talks about.
“Okay.”
Or not.
I set my fork down and search her face. “Hope. Talk to me.”
She doesn’t look up, but she slides off the couch, sitting on the floor as well. “I started going to the new therapist.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday was my third visit.”
Third. So three weeks. Pretty much the entire time we’ve been here and I didn’t even know. “How’s it going? Do you like her?”
“Him. And I don’t know. I don’t know if I like him. I don’t know how it’s going.”
I wait because her voice dropped with each sentence until I could barely hear her. There’s more and I don’t want to push her or she’ll pull even further away.
“He thinks I need to spend some time by myself.”
“What?”
She lifts her head to meet my eyes and I can’t read her at all. It scares the hell out of me. “He recommended we take a break so I could figure some things out.”
“A break,” I repeat flatly. A break. Like the break she took from Park? Hell no. “Well fuck him.”
She squints at me, her nose crinkling. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t listen to him for starters,” I spit.
“I just need some time, Mason. I’m confused.”
“About us?”
She looks at me blankly and I feel sick. I stand up, taking my plate with me, and throw it at the wall. Hope startles and pushes herself to her feet.
“Hope,” I utter. She’s shoving her things into her backpack and all I can do is watch her helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Mason. I just need to go write that paper.”
“What? You can’t go—”
“I can’t stay. I can’t…” She shakes her head. “I just have to go.” Her voice cracks. My lungs contract.
“Let me get my keys.”
“It’s fine. It’s not far and I need the air.”
“Hope,” I plead. God, please no. Please don’t do this. I know—I know if she walks out that door it will change things for us forever.
“I’ll call you,” she whispers before slipping out my door.
16 Hope
I lie back on my bed and place my phone on my chest. I told him I’d call, but I haven’t. It’s been three days. He didn’t try to contact me the first day, but since, he’s called several times a day and sent countless texts. He showed up here yesterday and I begged Tatum to lie to him. She reluctantly sent him away. I had to dodge him at school this morning. Now with the weekend upon us, I have no idea how to avoid him.
The calls from Guy started about four hours ago.
I turned my phone off two hours ago.
I close my eyes to keep the tears back and my mind won’t quit spinning. I’m a myriad of emotions. Just a big blob of feelings and I wish it would just stop.
I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
Without opening my eyes, I reach over and pull the nightstand drawer open. I glide my fingers over the items inside, moving to the very back until I feel the small box. I grip it tightly and bring it to my chest. Drawing the blanket over my head, I drift to sleep.
It feels like seconds later when the blanket is ripped off me and I open my eyes to see Guy and Chase standing above me. And they’re seriously pissed.
Guy pries the box from my fingers and hands it back to Chase. “Get the fuck up.”
“Go away,” I mutter as I reach for my comforter. Chase stomps his foot down on it, shaking his head.
“Get up,” Guy says again, “or I’ll drag your little ass out of that bed myself.”
I glare at him. “I’m tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Maybe if you answered your God damn phone we wouldn’t have had to drive out here. But since we’re here, we aren’t leaving.”
Chase crosses his arms, tucking my box into his armpit and nods his agreement. “You scared the shit out of us.”
I groan. “Did you tell Jenny and Alec?”
“Not yet,” Guy replies. He sits beside me and pulls my arm. “Did you cut?”
I point at Chase. “The box is still sealed.”
“That doesn’t mean shit and you know it.”
I elbow my way up. My head hurts and my eyes burn. “No. I didn’t cut myself or do harm to myself in any other way.” And then I laugh because seriously—didn’t I? Didn’t I hurt myself when I told Mason I needed a break? Didn’t I hurt myself when I didn’t call him? When I ignored his calls?
“What the hell’s going on?” Guy hisses. “Mason said you broke up with him.”
Dread shivers through me and I just start crying. I can’t stop. I sob in a really gross and loud way because I know I fucked everything up and I have no idea how to fix it.
Guy pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. His fingers comb through my hair, but I still cannot stop crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Tell me, honey,” Guy murmurs into my ear as he rocks me back and forth.
I try to catch my breath so I can get a sentence out, but air just won’t come.
“Shh. Calm down.” I feel his head lift and the blanket swarms around me. “Go get her some juice and a big bag of Skittles.”
I shake my head, crying harder, but I can’t get the words out. I don’t want Skittles. It can’t be Skittles.
“Shit,” Guy hisses. “Sorry. Starbursts. Get her Starbursts. And Twizzlers.”
I realize it doesn’t even matter because they all hold a memory of Mason.
“And call him. Let him know we got her.”
I’m not sure how much time passes, but the tears slow, and I can catch my breath a little easier. Guy wipes my face with the corner of my blanket and I slip off his legs, settling back on the bed.
“It’s nothing like I imagined,” I whisper. “We get here and everything is so different. I feel like I’m drowning, Guy. I can’t figure out which way I’m supposed to swim, so I just keep sinking. I need to breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.”
I gasp and push against my chest because it hurts so badly.
“He’s there and I’m here. I’m struggling in all my classes. I have nobody but him. I can’t count on him for everything. He needs a life too. He deserves his own life.”
I grasp handfuls of hair and tug.
“I thought I’d surprise him a couple weeks ago. I went over to his campus. I just needed to see him… He didn’t know I was there, so I watched him, waiting for him to notice me.” I shake my head and fist my hands. “He was laughing and talking. All these people—all these girls were surrounding him. I realized that he could have any one of those girls. Hell, Guy, I think he could have all of them. And all I could think is why me? Why would he be with me when he could have these beautiful, normal girls that don’t hurt themselves? Girls his mom would like. That Kellin wouldn’t be afraid of. That he could have a good life with.”
Guy clears his throat as he regards me. “Mason loves you. He wants you. He doesn’t want other girls.”
“Yeah, but why? I feel like he’s only with me because he has this need to save everyone.”
“No,” Guy says, his voice harsh. “He was head over heels before he knew about your demons. Jesus. Why are you trying to kill this?”
I gape at him,
speechless.
“Seriously, Hope. This is such bullshit. You drop everything and everyone to move out here for him and then you pull this? Give the man some credit. He’s been with you for a year—” His eyes go wide with realization and I duck my head.
“You dumbass. Get the hell up. We need to fix this now.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late. We can’t go back from this.”
“Shut up. You don’t get to talk anymore. I am so mad at you.”
The door cracks open and I’m expecting to see Chase, but my gaze locks on Mason’s green eyes and my entire body trembles.
“Chase called me,” he explains softly.
“Ah, good,” Guy says. “Get over here. You two need to talk.” He stands up and as he passes Mason, he pauses. “If you can manage to not murder her, I’ll buy you dinner. If not, I’ll see you in ten to twenty.”
Mason cocks a brow and reluctantly lowers himself beside me.
“Hey,” he utters.
“Hey.”
Guy closes the door behind him and Mason and I sit in silence for a moment as I try to gather my thoughts. I inhale until my chest burns and let it out in a rush. My body won’t stop shaking and I close my eyes.
“Is is too late for us?” I ask him.
“No,” he answers immediately and I open my eyes. He’s watching me and there’s something in his gaze that makes my heart flutter.
I lean forward, needing to feel the soft warmth of his lips. I mean for it to be a quick kiss, just something to give me the courage to say what I need to say, but Mason has other ideas.
His hands grip my neck almost painfully, holding my mouth to his, and his tongue brushes over my lips. When I take a surprised breath, he uses it to his advantage, slipping inside and deepening the kiss. I shiver and a sound bubbles up my throat.
Mason growls and his mouth moves against mine fiercely.
“Do you still love me?” he whispers into my lips.
“Yes,” I moan.
“Then it’s never too late.”
17 Mason
One year later
Because our one year anniversary was spent apart—I still count it even if we were kind of broken up—I’ve made sure that our second anniversary will be memorable in a much better way.
I fill our apartment with tulips because Hope isn’t into roses—she insists they smell funny. Bringing in pieces of our first date, I light candles, and set our dinner of mushroom ravioli on the table. For desert, Oreos.
Just to make her smile, I leave a trail of Skittles leading from the door to the table just a few feet away. Then I put on her favorite love song playlist.
When I hear her key in the door, I glance around quickly and take a deep breath.
This is it.
I’m met by a huge grin. She lets her eyes drift through the room before returning them back to me.
“Happy anniversary,” I choke. Shit. My hands won’t stop shaking. My knees are even trembling and that just pisses me off. I need to quit being such a pussy.
“Are you okay?” she asks, moving toward me with concern. “You’re really pale.” She straightens suddenly, placing her hand on my arm. “Are you shaking?”
I grab her face and pull her into a long kiss. As her taste touches my tongue, I feel myself relax. Her body molds to mine, her leg sliding up to lock around mine. I love that I can still affect her like this.
We break apart and I grin at her. “I’m perfect,” I murmur. Guiding her into the chair, I brush her hair back so I can fully see her face. “I made you dinner.”
“Did you put vegetables in it?”
I nod. “Mushrooms.”
“Freaking fungus.” She beams at me. “Happy anniversary, Mason.”
“Two years,” I say.
She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Two years,” she agrees. I sit down across from her, but I can’t eat. I’m pretty sure I’d just choke on it, or puke.
Hope narrows her eyes and crosses her arms on the table. “Okay. What’s wrong? Is this the year you freak out?”
I bark out a laugh. She has no idea. “No. Not freaking out.”
Liar. Liar. Liar.
“Okay… Well everything looks great. And just so we’re clear, I’m totally eating those Skittles, floor or not.”
I laugh again, the sound full of the nerves I can’t shake.
“All right,” Hope hisses. She stands up, placing her hands on her hips. “What’s going on? You look like you’re dying over there.” She takes a shaky step toward me. “Cheese and rice, Mason. I’m the only one around here who is allowed to get crazy. If there’s two of us that’ll just be too much insanity in one room. We’re on a budget—I can’t afford straightjackets.”
I give her a crooked smile and stand up. God damn I love this girl. “I have a gift for you.” I take the little papers from my pocket and grab her hand. As I slide the Starburst wrapper ring onto the finger of her right hand, I take a breath, holding it for a moment. “This is what I was going to give you last year, but… Well you know.”
She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I know.” With a twist of her wrist, she admires the silly paper ring.
I lower myself to one knee, and her eyes widen. Her left hand is trembling as badly as my entire body is when I lift it toward me. “And this is what I got you this year,” I whisper as I slip the small diamond engagement ring past her knuckle. I gaze up at her, holding her blue eyes. “I’ve loved you ever since the moment you kicked Christian Dunkin’s ass. I’ve never stopped and I never will. I know this is early—we’re still in school—but I figure if I ask now, that gives you time to freak out, and maybe by our third anniversary we’ll be able to make the engagement official. I guess it’s typical to be engaged for a year or two, so by our fifth anniversary, we’ll have graduated, you’ll be ready, and we can get married.”
She lowers herself in front of me. “You’ve thought this all out.”
I nod. “Pretty much, but it’s all subject to change. If you want to go to Vegas tonight, I’m game.”
I’m still shaking. She still hasn’t said yes. Of course, she’s still here, so there’s that.
“I don’t need to wait until next year to make the engagement official. We can do that now. But you’re right, a wedding better wait until after graduation. I don’t want to piss your mother off again.”
I freeze, my eyes flicking over her face. “Is that a yes?”
She laughs softly, her gaze now glossy. “It’s a hell yes.”
I tug her into me and our mouths meet fiercely. “I can agree to that. We can forgo the whole graduation party and just throw one hell of a reception.”
I run my palms down her sides. She moans and shoves my shirt up. I pull back and raise my hands, helping her get it over my head. She reaches for hers and I stop her, shaking my head.
“No,” I utter hoarsely. I look down at her Beatles tee shirt and grin. “Leave that on, Blackbird.”
“Kiss me,” she sighs.
And so I do.
Blackbird Page 6
