Chapter 24
MASON
In a surprising turn of events, Mason ends up going to the newsroom to work on his next article.
It’s late at night on a Saturday, and mostly everyone else has better things to do and better places to be, but he’s neglected his journalism responsibilities. His “community service” he likes to call them.
Midterms have taken over his entire life, and he’s studying for four different physics and math classes, feeling like his brain is being pulled in so many different directions and dimensions, literally.
On top of everything with Joel, his family, and Callum, it’s too much to bear, so it’s nice that he can escape somewhere that he’s welcome, even if he doesn’t feel like he fully belongs.
He’s alone for most of the night, until the familiar jingle of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings makes their way down the hallway. He looks at the entrance and pales as Fiona walks into the newsroom with her usual thermos in her hand.
She raises her eyebrows at Mason as she places it down on her desk.
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He knows she’s questioning why he’s even here, especially on a Saturday night, but in reality, he has nothing better to do. Jenna is at her sorority doing some kind of mixer, and Callum is at a frat party that he invited Mason to, but Mason declined.
“Fun Saturday night plans?” Fiona asks as she rifles through her file drawers.
“Yep, just me and my pen,” Mason replies.
Fiona clucks her tongue as she continues searching. She finds what’s she’s looking for and closes the filing cabinet.
“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a book, my blanket, and my tea waiting for me back at my dorm, so get whatever you need to get done fast so I don’t have to look at this sad state of affairs,” Fiona says as she gestures to him.
He scoffs. “Goodnight to you too, then.”
She does a singular wave and is out of the newsroom as quickly as she came in.
Sometimes he hates how rude she is. She’s funny, he’ll give her that, but would it kill her to just say goodnight and go? He’s already feeling lonely, not being able to see Jenna or Callum, and he doesn’t need salt in the wound.
He settles his work set-up on his desk, and like he’s starting a race, he cracks his knuckles and tilts his head, cracking his neck and puts his headphones in to block out any noise.
He pulls out his notebook and his pencils and starts the first sentence of his semester project, but before he can even start, he jumps as someone taps his shoulder.
He sighs, taking his headphones out without having been able to start playing music, was Fiona back just to tease him again?
He gasps slightly as he realizes it’s Alex, his disposition tentative, like it took him an hour to muster up the courage to even tap Mason on the shoulder.
“Alex, hi,” Mason says after clearing his throat. He half expected Alex to never talk to him again, especially after it seemed like he continually tried to ignore Mason after that frat party. And Mason in all honesty deserved the cold shoulder after dipping like he did.
Alex breathes out a long sigh. “Hey.”
Mason looks at him questioningly, wondering if Alex is just merely trying to say “hi” or has an ulterior motive.
Alex seems to notice this. “Oh—uh. I was wondering if you started the semester project for class yet. I… know you’re still on sports and I have to do mine on sports and…”
Mason smiles at Alex’s embarrassment. It’s endearing.
“I was wondering if you had any tips?”
Mason tilts his head from side to side. “I might.”
Alex smirks. “Fiona actually forced me in here.”
Mason squints. “Did she?”
Alex nods. “She saw me walking in the hallway, said you were in the newsroom alone on a Saturday night, and that I should give you company because the sight of you alone was pitiful.”
Mason rolls his eyes. “Of course she did.”
“But I needed to see you anyway, so it works out for me.”
Mason smiles and pushes the chair in front of him out to make space for Alex to sit.
Alex blushes and grins, sitting down and taking out his notebook from his bag, his pen poised to listen to Mason.
“And that’s how you get the patience to learn everything about sports without losing your mind.”
Alex laughs, shaking his head at Mason.
“I mean, the guys already are worth wanting to know everything.”
Mason nods. “That’s definitely part of it.”
Alex closes his notebook and sighs.
“Thanks Mason, I really appreciate your help.”
Mason smiles. “Of course. It’s… it’s the least I could do after…”
Mason doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t want to utter the words out loud. He had no intention of bruising Alex’s ego, but he did.
He behaved exactly like the person he didn’t want to become.
Alex rubs his face. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, Mason. I—I was a little embarrassed by what happened.”
Mason sighs and nods, looking down at his lap, unable to meet Alex’s eyes.
“You had every right to, Alex. I’m the one that’s sorry. Something happened that night and I—I had to go. And I’m sorry for leaving like that,” Mason says, still focusing on his lap.
He can’t bear to see any hurt flash in Alex’s eyes. He knows he’ll just see himself be reflected back. All those years of Callum ignoring him and choosing football and his friends over him. He just knows that if he looks, he’ll just remember it all again and how painful it was.
And how painful it can be.
Alex rubs his cheek. “I figured something else was going on. I just—I don’t know. I have this thing about me that when I feel rejected that I just pretend whoever rejected me doesn’t exist. It reminds me that I don’t feel good enough… I don’t know.”
Alex sighs and shakes his head, putting his hand over his mouth and his gaze going somewhere else, thinking about something or likely someone else.
Mason wants to touch Alex’s hand, but that might make things worse. He doesn’t want to lead him on or to confuse him. He feels Alex’s words deep in the marrow of his bones, like they were etched into his skin when he was born.
Mason hates rejection, and he can’t bear to face it. And neither can Alex. Maybe they don’t know much about each other. But they both know that they hate feeling like they aren’t the first choice.
That’s where they can start anew.
“Alex, you are worth so much more than you realize.”
Alex turns with his hand still covering his mouth looking at Mason, his eyebrows knit together in concern, like he might cry.
“Being in college… it’s all about acceptance or rejection.
I used to think it was high school, but no, it’s college.
Figuring out what we want to do, who we like, if it’s meant for us.
What we want to do for the rest of our lives.
That’s the core of who we are. And take it from me, trust me, you’re going to be rejected, and it’s going to hurt like hell.
But don’t avoid it. Run toward it instead. I know I still have to learn that.”
Mason puts his hand on his chest, like he’s spewing out endless words and that if he doesn’t put his hand on his chest, he won’t be able to stop.
He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but there’s something so vulnerable about the way Alex is being that makes Mason feel like he can finally open up and not feel like he has to lie to anyone anymore.
Alex takes his hand off his mouth and smiles. He slowly gets up and puts his hands on the table, towering over Mason as he smiles.
“There’s a reason why you’re on the paper.
There’s a reason why I liked you so much from how your words jump off the pages of The Goldberg.
There’s a reason why you’re cooped up in here on a Saturday night instead of doing anything else.
Maybe you’re meant to do this, or maybe not.
But what I do know is that you shouldn’t hide, Mason.
You have a platform and a way with words. Use them.”
Alex takes his hands off the table and walks out of the newsroom and back into the hallway, leaving Mason stunned in his wake.
A group of laughter echoes in the hallway, and he quickly looks over to see if they’re laughing at him as anxiety sears through his chest and radiates in his body, but they’re not looking or listening to him. They’re in their own little world.
Mason keeps his hand on his chest like he’s making an oath. A promise that Alex’s words will stick with him even if he stops writing for The Goldberg and never pursues writing again.
He has to live his truth. Maybe it won’t be now, but he has to live it, eventually, and he needs to write about it instead of avoiding it.