The machines have been taken away now. There’s no beeping, nothing apart from the sound of his shallow breathing as he heals.
I stare at him, praying that he’ll do something to show me he’s coming back to me. I’m so focused on the stillness of his face that when his eyelids flicker, it actually scares me.
“Oh my god, Mason. Can you hear me? I’m here, baby. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
There’s nothing for long seconds and I start to wonder if I imagined it. But then, right as I’m starting to believe I hallucinated, he does it again, only this time they open. Not a lot, but they open nonetheless.
I move closer, taking both his hands in mine. “Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.”
Then the most incredible thing happens. His fingers tighten in mine. “Oh my god, Mase.” A sob rips from my throat and I carefully prop myself on the edge of his bed, being careful of the tubes he still has coming from his chest.
“They made me go home. Can you believe that? I’ve been here since the moment you arrived, and when they make me go, it’s when you start waking up. Are you trying to tell me something with that?” I ask with a laugh, because I’m fully aware that he has no control over what his body does right now.
“Everyone’s been here. Jake and Amalie, Ethan and his whiskey bottle, your mom, my parents. We’re all here for you, Mase.” I sigh when there are no other signs of him waking up.
“What the hell were you playing at?” I ask. “Do you have any idea how fucking scary it was to watch you run that light and a car impale itself in the side of yours? I thought you’d fucking died, Mase. I thought that was it. I already lost you for four years. I only just got you back and I thought you’d fucking died on me.” My tears make my vision blurry, but when I look up from our joined hands, it’s not enough to hide the pair of eyes that are staring back at me.
“Mason, fuck. Oh my god.” I wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands and wait to see if he’s going to do anything. The second I connect our hands once again, he squeezes them tightly.
His lips part, his tongue sneaking out to wet his dry lips.
“Wait, hang on.” I reach over for the cup and straw that’s been sitting unused for the past two days and fill it with some water. Lifting it to his mouth, he sips a little before I pull it away again and place it down.
I look into his dark eyes, my heart thundering in my chest as I read everything he wants to say to me. I see his fear, his confusion but also relief, and I hope that’s there because I’m here with him right now.
When his lips part again, one single word manages to break free.
“Sorry.”
The small amount of control I had on my emotions snaps and I cry. I’m desperate to crawl in beside him and feel his arms around me, proof that he’s here and that he’s awake, but I know I can’t and it kills me.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re here and you’re going to be fine. I love you. I love you so much.”
His own eyes fill with tears, and when one trickles from the corner, I reach out and catch it with my thumb, cradling his cheek in my hand.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I repeat, sensing that he needs to hear it again.
We’re still staring at each other when Nicky comes back in, cradling her coffee in her hands.
“Mason? You’re awake.”
A small smile twitches at the corner of his lips when he sees her, but his eyes are starting to get heavy, and after another few seconds he’s drifted back off to sleep.
37
Mason
I was aware that everyone had been here. I’d heard their voices, I’d felt their touch, I just wasn’t able to open my eyes. It freaked me the fuck out the first time it happened, but hearing everyone around me talk and a few hazy memories, I quickly figured out what had happened and where I was.
No sooner had I got frustrated with the situation than I’d fall back to sleep and forget all about it, until the next time I woke again.
I knew Camila was here. I’d heard her voice many times and I could feel her tiny hand in mine. She was all I needed, and every time I heard her say that everything was going to be okay, I believed her. But it was one thing she said that gave me the strength to finally open my eyes and see her.
“I already lost you for four years. I only just got you back and I thought you’d fucking died on me.”
The guilt that hit me hearing that statement had my eyes flying open. How could I be so fucking selfish? I should have been paying attention to where I was going, not busy thinking about the past, my dad, but instead, I once again caused Camila pain. Pain that I’m not going to be able to do anything about, other than to apologize, and that is nowhere near what she deserves after witnessing what she did and sitting beside me all this time.
Over the next few days, I manage to stay awake longer and longer. Every single time I open my eyes, she’s there, sitting in the same chair, wearing the same clothes, looking equally as beautiful as she does exhausted, and I wish she’d take some time to look after herself.
“Hey, you’re awake,” she says, pulling her chair closer before standing and dropping a kiss to my lips.
“Hey,” I say, my voice rough and croaky after being asleep for fuck knows how long.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better actually. I feel like I can breathe again. My head kills though.”
“I’ll call the nurse. Get you some more painkillers.”
I want to say no, to keep it just the two of us, but I know she’s doing the right thing. If I want to get out of this place anytime soon, then for once I need to learn to listen to those around me and do as I’m told.
I have no idea how many days might have passed. Sometimes I wake up and it’s dark out, other times it’s light. I have no sense of anything, and it’s seriously disorientating.
“What day is it?” I ask Camila when I wake up once again to find her sitting in the chair beside me on her tablet.
“Friday.”
I think for a few minutes.
“The game.” Tonight’s the final game of the season and the one to seal our fate. We’ve already secured our place in the state playoffs, but if we win tonight, then we finish as district champions, something none of us thought was even a possibility when Coach started getting us excited for it all those months ago.
Jake’s aim was the playoffs. He said he didn’t care if that meant we came first or fourth, as long as we placed, but we all knew that he was desperate for that top spot. And he deserves it after the work he’s put in. He deserves to be able to celebrate something.
“What do you think I’m doing? Amalie is sending me updates. It’s a tight game by the sounds of it.”
She turns the screen to me and hits play on a video that she’s sent through. Every muscle in my body aches to be out on that field with them. After missing those games because I had to work, I’d hoped that we’d be able to finish the season as a team, but it seems fate had other ideas for me.
“You’ve still got the playoffs. There’s still a chance you’ll be okay to play.”
“I know. It just sucks that I can’t even be there.”
“You’ve got loads of games ahead of you yet, Mase. Just think of all the college games to come.”
“If I get in.”
“You’ll get in. Stop worrying. Your grades are good, and you’re shit hot on the field. Maddison would be crazy not to accept you.”
I let out a sigh, hoping that she’s right. From as early as I can remember, Dad and I talked about me playing for the Panthers and that dream is now in touching distance and the risk of fucking it all up is getting higher and higher.
“I need that fucking scholarship.” I’ve got no hope without it.
“You’ll get it, but you might not need it after all. We still have no idea what your dad’s left you.”
The memory of sitting in Julia’s house slams into me, I gave her my bank details. I wonder if she’s already passed them
on?
A more pressing thought takes over. “Have you told my mom?”
She nods. “I have. I hope that’s okay. They wanted to know why we were where we were and in separate cars. I didn’t have it in me to make something up.”
“No, it’s fine. How’d she take it?”
“She was upset. Shocked. She hasn’t said so, but I’m pretty sure she’s been out to his grave.”
I nod, wondering how she’s really taking it. She’s been managing to get her life back on track since moving in with the Lopezes. I fear hearing about Dad might send her spiraling back down again.
“She’s doing okay though. Work gave her this week off to be with you and the boys, but she hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol. She’s good, Mase. Just worry about yourself, yeah?”
I can’t help it. After spending the past four years basically doing her job for her when she was unable to look after herself, let alone her kids, I’m scared of going backward. We might be living under someone else’s roof right now, but my life is better than it’s been in a really, really long time, and I don’t want that to change.
Sucking in a deep breath, I prepare to ask a question I’m not sure I want an answer to. “Cami?” She turns her eyes on me and my chest aches that I’ve put her through this after everything else. “W-what happened to the other car— the people in the other car?”
She reaches for my hand, and I panic. “She’s fine, Mason.” Relief bubbles up to the point I think I might actually burst into tears. “Your mom has seen her and spoken to her. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I nod, images of how different things could have been playing out in my mind.
My thoughts are put on hold as Camila suddenly jumps up from the chair. “They did it. They fucking did it.”
A smile breaks across my face.
“They won?”
“They did. You did. You’re a champ.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t you fucking dare. You’ve given your all to that team, don’t you dare downplay this right now.”
* * *
Two hours later, we hear them before we see them. But seconds after there’s a commotion out in the corridor, Jake, Ethan, and the rest of the team come crashing into my hospital room. Their excitement is infectious, and for the first time since Camila told me, a sense of pride and achievement races through me.
“We fucking did it,” Jake cheers, coming over to my side and pulling me to him, albeit carefully. “We’re fucking champions, bro. We did it.”
I might hate that they were forced to do it without me, but Camila was right, I am a part of this, and as the excitement reaches a whole new level inside my tiny hospital room, I can’t help but get carried away with it. Even Ethan seems to have left his issues at the door as he laughs and jokes with the rest of the team.
“Not that I don’t want you guys here, but aren’t you supposed to be celebrating your win right now?”
Everyone but Jake, Ethan, Amalie and Camila have left, and I’ve been waiting for them to make their excuses to leave as well.
“We are,” Jake says, pulling Amalie down onto his lap.
“No, you’re hanging out in a shitty hospital room when you should be fucking shit up.”
“It can wait,” Ethan says, shocking the hell out of me.
“You’re telling me your place isn’t party central right now?”
“Nope, not without you, man.”
“Don’t stop enjoying yourself because I’m stuck in here. You guys deserve it.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll still deserve it when you’re out of here and can celebrate with us.” I smile at my two best friends. They might be their own brand of fucked up in certain ways, but fuck, I couldn’t ask for two better boys to have my back.
“I appreciate that, but I really don’t want to stop you.”
“It’s all good. Plus, I think we can probably all agree that I need to slow down at bit.”
“Yeah, about that.”
All eyes turn on Ethan as he lets out a huge breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a fuck-up recently.” Jake goes to say something, but Ethan doesn’t give him the chance. “My dad’s been cheating on my mom. She left a few weeks ago.”
“Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.”
Amalie reaches over and places her hand on his shoulder in support when he drops his head into his hands, and I don’t miss the look that passes between her and my girl. It makes me wonder if they’d already figured this out.
“Where’s she gone?”
“To my grandparents in Connecticut. She wanted me to go but...” He blows out a breath. “My home’s here. I couldn’t leave but—fuck.”
Silence falls around us.
“I just needed to get it off my chest. I know I’ve been acting like a dick and I’m sorry, I just—”
“It’s okay, Ethan. We get it. Families are hard fucking work. Parents are hard fucking work. All of us in this room know that. Whatever you need. We’re here.”
“I appreciate that. Anyone want a drink? I just need to get some air.” The girls ask for a coffee, but Jake and I go without.
“Fuck.”
“Well I guess that explains the missing photographs.” My brows draw together at Camila’s words. “You locked yourself in his house for two days. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice all their family photos had gone.” When my face stays blank, she rolls her eyes at me.
“What? My dad had died, I needed a release.”
Seeing as no one looks shocked, I assume that Camila has filled everyone in on what’s happened in my life and excuses my lack of attention. Not that I ever really gave Ethan’s family photos a second glance. I do feel for him though, a family breakup can be seriously fucking tough.
“I wish he’d have said something sooner,” Amalie muses.
“Explains a lot though. He idolizes his dad for the success he’s had, so knowing he’s betrayed his mom must be a serious kick in the teeth.”
“I wonder who the woman is,” Camila adds.
“I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready,” I say, knowing exactly how he’s feeling right now.
“Well, that seriously soured the mood, huh?” Jake says with a laugh, seeing as we’re supposed to be celebrating.
“We’re in a hospital, it’s not exactly the best place for a party.”
“We’ll make up for it once you’re back on your feet.”
Ethan reappears about twenty minutes later. His shoulders seem wider than when he walked out, and I can’t help but wonder if having the weight of his secret lifted was exactly what he needed.
They stay for another hour, the guys filling me in on every play in tonight’s game and how they managed to turn things around at the last minute to take the lead and the title.
“Playoffs, here we fucking come!” Jake announces, slamming his closed fist to his heart.
“We’ve got this. Well, you guys have. Only time will tell for me.”
“You’ll be there. I won’t have it any other way.”
When they see me starting to fade, they make their excuses and leave us to it. I feel bad that they’re only heading to Aces for a burger and not to a party, but I can’t exactly make them.
“Can I?” Camila asks, nodding to the space on the bed next to me.
I shift over the best I can, the pain from my ribs taking my breath for a few seconds, but we just manage to squeeze on. Having her in my arms feels so damn good, and I never want to let her go.
Epilogue
Camila
Mason ended up staying in the hospital for eight days in all. After the fourth day, my parents demanded that I leave each night so I could get some sleep. I argued, of course, but in the end, they won and I can’t deny that I felt a hell of a lot better after a full night’s sleep in a bed and not just a series of catnaps in a hard hospital chair.
I did put my foot down, however, when my parents and Nicky started talking about getting Mason’s room ready for him. The
three of them looked horrified when I announced that he would be moving in with me, but to be fair to them, they didn’t argue. They must have known it wasn’t one they were ever going to win.
They told me that they’d allow it for now, while he recovers, but that it would need to be readdressed in the near future. I fought hard to hide my eye roll. I have no clue what’s going to happen when Nicky decides to move out, but until then, I have no intention of allowing Mason to sleep anywhere but my bed.
My dad had to go back to New York. Mom was planning on going with him again, but with everything that happened, she insisted on staying home and helping Nicky out with Mason and the boys. We both told her it wasn’t necessary, but she wouldn’t have it.
So the following Monday morning, the three of us escorted Mason home and up to my bedroom. I hadn’t told him about his sudden bedroom move, but the smile that curled at his lips as we moved slowly to my room told me that he was happy about it.
I refused to go back to school, much to my mom’s horror, but I’d already missed one week. What was another really going to do? I emailed our teachers and got schoolwork so neither of us fell behind, and we spent the afternoons working.
Spending time together was incredible. We were able to make up for our lost time and talk about everything that happened during our years apart, and Mason totally opened up about what happened after his dad left.
My heart bled for him, and I so wished he could have just talked to me at the time instead of building his walls up so high that I had no choice but to be pushed out. I might understand why he did it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be happy about the years we lost.
True to his word, Ethan held off the celebration party until Mason was able to attend, and that’s where we’re headed tonight. Mason’s still in pain, mostly with his ribs, but he’s insistent that he’s well enough to go. As much as I want to demand he stays in bed until he’s fully recovered, I also know that being stuck inside the house is driving him crazy. I can’t really argue with him that sitting on Ethan’s sofa won’t really be that much different from sitting at home.
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 28
