Blindspot (Daydream, Colorado Book 1)

by A. M. Rose

  And in the middle of it all, the branches and the snow, a treehouse. Looking like it was plucked directly from fairy tales. With mismatched planks, slanted rooftops covering different rooms and a canopy over a little balcony they used to sit on and watch the stars. There were lanterns of different shapes and colors hung wherever there was room to hang them, and even though they hadn’t been lit in ages, Mason remembered the magic they brought to the place.

  He had built the treehouse with Drew, ages ago. Well…Drew had built it for the most part. He did his best to help, but tools weren’t his thing and magic wasn’t Drew’s, so he was only allowed to hold things or put them away. Drew had insisted on building it by hand. It was important to him for it to be built with no magic. He had started out small, with a little plateau and a couple of walls. But when those managed to stay upright, he had gotten cocky. Started adding to it until they had the outlandish structure he was looking at. Mason didn’t care what it looked like at all. Spending time with Drew was enough for him. Whatever they were doing. And they did so much.

  They hid there to prank call their classmates. They used to celebrate their birthdays there, just the two of them, as they both felt it should be. They collected things they thought were cool at the time and stashed them inside the treehouse as if anyone in the world would be interested in stealing it. They cried and laughed and supported each other as best as they could, sitting on the floor covered in potential splinters and eating whatever snack Mason brought with him that day.

  Drew was there when Mason’s parents finally decided they preferred traveling and having fun than playing family with him. He was there when Orson stepped up and took the confused fifteen-year-old in, so he’d have some semblance of stability in his life. Drew was there when Mason finally decided to tell him he liked him.

  He had been stressed the entire day. He was terrified about confessing these wild, bubbling feelings in his chest to his best friend.

  They had been inseparable since the day Mason picked up his shit and moved it to Drew’s desk in protest at kids being assholes to him. He’d had Drew by his side for almost a decade, and he wasn’t ready to lose him over this, but he couldn’t hide it anymore.

  “You gonna stand there the entire day?” he heard Drew call out from the treehouse.

  Mason shook his head and made his way up the rickety stairs they’d hammered into the tree trunk. Years have made them less stable, which was saying a lot since they were shit in the first place. Mason kept trying to get Drew to let him fix them with magic, but he refused, promising he’d fix them. He never did. Asshole.

  “Move over, you big lug,” he said as he stuffed himself into the treehouse. It was getting harder to fit them both inside. Mostly because Drew decided to grow until he could feed the streetlamp fireflies without a stepladder.

  “Aw, you say the nicest things to me.” Drew placed a hand over his heart dramatically, and Mason rolled his eyes at him, but he could feel the smile tickling the corners of his lips.

  “God, you’re annoying,” he said, wiggling around, trying to find the most comfortable position, ending up sprawling on the floor, back to the wall and legs thrown over Drew’s. His tone must have been harsher than he thought because Drew cupped his palm over his knee and gave it a little shake.

  “What’s up?” he asked, and Mason knew he could feel something was bothering him. Drew always knew.

  “I…”

  “Mase?” he prompted.

  “I wanted to tell you something,” Mason said, twining his fingers in front of him and trying to figure out how best to say it.

  “Okay… go for it.”

  “I… um… well the thing is…” he tried his best, but the words just weren’t coming.

  Drew nudged him again, and he looked up to find him smiling gently. “Whatever it is… just say it.”

  “Don’t rush me!” he snapped, before sighing into the ensuing silence. He didn’t want to shout at Drew, this was the opposite of what he wanted. “Drew?”

  “Still here.”

  “I’m… I like boys,” he said finally, and silence fell over them. Mason screwed his eyes shut against the world and waited for Drew to see straight through him. Put two and two together and call him out on it.

  Instead, he felt him move, letting his legs drop from his lap as he crawled closer to him. He looked up to find him inches away from him. That warm smile was still firmly set in place and the look in his eyes still warm.

  “I know,” he said softly, and Mason stared at him in horror.

  “What?” Did he already know?

  Drew shrugged. “You come to my games a lot for someone who hates sports.”

  “You’re my best friend, and I’m supporting you,” he said indignantly, voice pitched high in terror. Had Drew known this whole time?

  “And I love being your excuse. But you do spend a lot of time looking at Daniel,” he said with a smirk.

  “Daniel?” Mason asked, half in relief, half in disappointment, as he thought of the handsome blond boy on Drew’s basketball team that he had glanced at once or twice before realizing he liked dark hair and dark eyes much better.

  “Yup. Saw you scrawl M+D in your notebook too,” he said, winking at him and Mason almost choked. He did write it in his notebook. But it wasn’t Daniel he thought of when he wrote it.

  “Drew…” He ran a hand over his face, trying to figure out how to say the rest of his confession.

  “It’s all good, Mason,” he said, and Mason looked through his fingers.

  “It is?”

  “Of course, it is. You’re my best friend.”

  No, no, no, this was all wrong. “Drew…”

  “Besides, Nathan asked me out last week, and I said yes… hey, maybe we can double date somewhere?” he said casually, and Mason felt his heart freeze over at the words.

  Drew was gay too. But he was going out with someone else.

  He slid his back down the tree trunk until he was sitting on the cold ground. He could feel tears freezing on his cheeks at the memory. It would be years until he told Drew that he had been in love with him forever. Five years to be exact. Five years from that moment until Drew took him in his arms and kissed him like he had known his entire life they were made for each other. Five years from that moment until Drew ruined him for everyone else… and then left him.

  So much of their pain was caused by silence, and he didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. He pulled out his phone and typed a quick text to Sage.

  Mason: Can I have his number?

  He had been reading the text over and over since the moment it popped up on his screen. Just a couple of words from an unknown number, but he knew instantly who it was. And he refused to close the thread in case it just disappeared on him. Those words that gave him hope.

  Unknown: Thursday, 5PM, park

  It was that time now, and he was sitting on a bench overlooking the small pond tucked into the far-right corner of the park from the main entrance. It wasn’t visible from the regular walking paths, but Drew knew Mason would know where to find him. He had always liked the scenery there. And back when he had his camera, he liked to take photos of the birds and the butterflies flying over the pond. He didn't even mind the little dance display the water was spelled to do every full hour. It made for a stunning background. He took photos of Mason too. So many of them. Some that he allowed Mason to keep because he liked them. Some that he kept for himself because it was so obvious in them how he felt about Mason that he couldn’t show them to anyone.

  So many good memories were there. He just hoped Mason remembered.

  “Hi,” he heard a voice coming from behind him. He jumped up and turned around to find him standing there, the dying light of day coloring him in a rainbow of color and… god, how beautiful he still was. His fingers itched for a lens again.

  “You found me,” he said, and he knew he sounded way too happy about it. His hands were clammy and shaking, and he was so nervous he felt like his
heart might burst out of his chest.

  “Yeah. I was counting on your coming here,” Mason said, glancing around them.

  “Why?”

  “It’s where we…” Mason paused, eyes meeting his for a split second that captured a thousand memories of meeting up at this exact spot to start whatever plans they had for the day. “It seemed logical. It was the only place in town we ever met up. It was this or…”

  The treehouse, Drew finished for him.

  He watched as Mason rounded the bench to sit at the opposite end, as far as was physically possible, and Drew felt a bubble of apologies build up in his throat. He was desperate to fix the way Mason couldn’t even bear to speak of their past, anxious to remove all those tense lines around his eyes and mouth.

  He didn’t even know where to start.

  The last time he had Mason alone with him, he had broken both their hearts, and now they were standing in the rubble.

  He cleared his throat, trying to rally. “Fair. Um… these are for you,” he said, lifting a box of triple-choc cookies. A bright red bow was sitting on top of it.

  Mason looked at it, palms clasped in front of his chest as if the smallest touch would burn him.

  “I don’t need gifts,” he said tersely, and Drew dropped his eyes down, wishing he could do just one thing right by Mason.

  He put the box down on the bench between them, ripped the bow off and opened the box. He pulled one cookie out and bit into it, cringing at the taste.

  “Now it’s not a gift. It’s just a snack,” he said around his bite and Mason frowned at him.

  “You hate chocolate chip cookies,” he said, and Drew watched him freeze as the words left his mouth. Just like with the apple pie, just like this spot in the park, Mason still remembered these details about him. He still knew him.

  “Not when they include good company,” Drew said, and apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. Mason dropped his arms and clenched his fists by his thighs, the frown line cutting through his forehead getting deeper.

  “I didn’t come here for cookies or company,” he said, and his voice betrayed just how on edge he was.

  “I know, Mase—”

  “Don’t call me that,” he snapped angrily.

  “I’m trying…” he started, but Mason stood up and turned to face him.

  “You’re stalling,” he accused and… yes. He wasn’t wrong. Drew had jumped at the chance to talk to him, but now that they were together, he had zero idea what to say. He had to find a way to explain why he ran away all those years ago, but there were things he just couldn’t talk about. And he had a feeling whatever he was able to say, it wouldn’t be enough for Mason after all this time.

  “I want to make things right… or… at least better between us,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, head hung low and chest hurting.

  “There is no us, Drew. I just want answers. That’s all,” Mason said and Drew nodded.

  "Okay..."

  "Okay... well... the stage is yours," Mason said after a tense few seconds. "Explain."

  Drew took a few deep breaths, only now realizing that he had no way to actually explain. “I know. I want to explain, I just…”

  “You just what? Want to pretend like everything is good first?” Mason snapped and Drew shook his head. This wasn’t going well.

  “Mase…” He raised his hands up in surrender at the look he got for using his nickname again. “Mason, I truly want to explain. I want to let you know what happened. But I…” can’t. He cringed even thinking about the pain it induced.

  “But what?”

  “There are things... Mason, please, certain things I just…” I can’t! he screamed in his own head. I can’t, I can’t!

  “Are too chickenshit to own up to?” Mason finished for him, oblivious to his silent pleading.

  “No… Mason… physically I just…” He made a gesture towards his throat and winced for real now as he felt himself cutting it close to saying or showing too much. He felt his lungs ache with every new breath, and that familiar headache was looming around the corner.

  “How convenient for you,” Mason said sarcastically. “I come for answers and you offer me half formulated sentences and words.”

  Drew wanted to cry. It was all he had to offer.

  “I know it’s not what you want,” he whispered, throat still tight, a warning sign. “Please don’t leave, I’m trying… I’m really trying.” He was verging on pleading. Hoping that something he’d said would have Mason sit back down at the bench next to him and allow him to say as much as he could without making himself suffer.

  “Well…” Mason didn’t sit down, but he was studying his face, no doubt seeing his desperation. Drew saw a crack in the armor there, a glimpse of the Mason that was always looking at him with worry whenever he was hurting. It was here now, for the briefest, sweetest moment before he locked it back up again.

  Eventually he did an aborted motion with his hands for Drew to hurry up and start talking.

  “I… You know I’m not magic…” he began and cringed because… yes… everyone in town knew he wasn’t.

  “No, that’s absolutely news to me,” Mason said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at him.

  “That’s not… I… I need to start somewhere,” he said quietly, already exhausted from the conversation that hadn’t even started yet.

  “Your name is Drew, you’re thirty, you were born in Daydream, Colorado in June of 1990, you used to shove your camera up everyone’s nose, you have a terrible singing voice, and you used to be best friends with me until you decided to drop off the face of the planet and forget we all existed. And now you’re back in town. There, that about covers the basics. Now get to the point!” Mason was flushed red by the end of his rant, and the arms he still held crossed in front of him were clenched tight.

  “Right…” He hesitated, wracking his brain for the millionth time for a loophole, a way to explain without torturing himself.

  “Why are you back, Drew?” he demanded, his tone clipped and cold. Nothing like the Mason that used to talk to him in the kindest, warmest tone he had ever heard. He was one of the few who ever got to hear it.

  “My… my parents called me… they wanted to settle some things between us…” he said vaguely.

  Mason huffed. “Seems to be a running theme around here.”

  Drew gave a pained smile. “Looks like it.”

  “What did they want to talk about?” Mason asked.

  “I… I…” he stuttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “Fine. Why did you leave?” Mason pushed, and that was another thing he wouldn’t be able to answer in full.

  “I… It had nothing to do with you… or… or us, Mason. I swear,” he rushed out, saying what he could, while Mason stood stiffly and listened.

  “Are you giving me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ talk right now?”

  “NO… I’m not… but… it really wasn’t you. If there was anything that could have held me here back then, it was you,” he said hastily, hating himself more for not being able to just say it.

  Mason let out a laugh that was so chilling Drew felt himself shivering.

  “Oh… yeah, that explains you leaving me, naked, in bed, and disappearing for ten years without a word. What the fuck, Drew? What the fuck were you thinking?” Mason finally allowed his arms to fall from around his chest. He was tense, and Drew could tell he was barely keeping himself from screaming at him. And he had every right to do it. He deserved everything he had to dish out and more.

  “I didn’t know what else to do! It was all too much…”

  “WHAT?? What was too much? Us? Together?”

  “NO!” Drew jumped up to his feet. “Never you, Mason. You were… you were the best thing in my world.”

  He heard the smaller man gasp at his words. His blue eyes caught his own, and for a moment, his Mason was there with him again. The one only he got to see. Without the s
arcasm and the walls he put up around himself. He realized he never told him how he felt about him before he left.

  “You never said…” Mason tried, but stopped himself, fingers covering his lips as if to catch the words from escaping. As if afraid it would make him too open and vulnerable now when he least needed it.

  “I should have said it,” Drew said, looking at him, taking in the beauty that had only grown over the years.

  “I don’t get it then, Drew. I’m trying, but I don’t get it!” It was Mason’s turn to run his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “If… if I meant that much… why did you leave?”

  “I was never a part of this town…” Drew said, hoping he’d manage to get his point across. Mason frowned at his words but didn’t say anything. “Everyone kept saying they didn’t care about me not having magic. That they were okay with it, but… out of all the people, you were the only one who actually acted like you didn’t care. The only one who treated me like I was normal.”

  “You are normal,” Mason snapped, an old, ingrained response.

  Drew huffed out a humorless laugh. “I’m really not so sure about it anymore.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Not everyone was as accepting as they pretended to be. It was the little things at first. Kids at school being assholes, grown-ups talking behind my parent’s backs. I used to listen to them talk when they thought I was asleep. They thought I was sick. They actually reached out to other communities to ask if anyone had any ideas, any way they could help me. For the first few years of my life they treated me like a project.”

  “I didn’t know…”

  “I never said anything.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t want you to start seeing me like that too.”

  Mason frowned. “Drew… I wouldn’t…”

  “I know that now, Mason. Back then I was a stupid kid, afraid to lose the one person that seemed to accept me,” he said and Mason nodded, face still stoic and seemingly unfeeling, but Drew could see the little vein on his forehead that gave away how much he really felt inside and how hard it was holding it in.