Chapter 25
MASON
He finishes a large chunk of his semester project and this week’s article in record time, with Alex’s words having emboldened him with a new passion that he didn’t ever have for writing.
He slams his laptop closed and stretches back in his chair, yawning as the exhaustion hits him. He looks at his watch.
It’s midnight, well past the time he should be awake, but it’s what he’s used to after the Armageddon that was midterms week.
His phone buzzes as he leans back in his stretch.
He grabs his phone and looks at it.
Callum
Are you free?
Mason smiles. It’s like they’re operating on the same wavelength.
Mason
That depends, are you trying to whisk me away somewhere new?
Callum
Not entirely. Just wait for me outside of the library, assuming you’re still there.
Mason
I’m actually in the newsroom, but I’ll head to the library.
Callum
Okay, see you soon, get ready for a “Callum exclusive”
Mason snorts and puts his phone away, gathers his things, and heads to the library.
He can’t stop thinking about what Alex said. What does it mean to use his writing for himself?
His writing goes through countless rounds of editing and with a fine-toothed comb with the help of Fiona. There’s no way writing the way he wants to would fly with her, even if it is good. Especially not with his parents reading all his articles either.
Imagine how horrific it would be if he told them his secrets in an article. A snark-filled kiss-off detailing all of the things he was hiding from them.
He wouldn’t lie to himself and say he hasn’t had fantasies about doing such things.
He imagines himself sitting them down in their living room, saying he’s made his best written work yet, handing them each an issue of The Goldberg, and watching both of their eyes widen in utter horror and shock as they read his profession of his adoration for Callum while also saying they are tyrannical prestige-obsessed parents who care more about attention than the quality of their son’s writing.
He knows it’s harsh, but sometimes he thinks about giving them a taste of their medicine.
To have his writing just be “good” and not have to serve a higher purpose.
He knows at the end of the day, physics is his home and passion, but writing can find a place in his life, as long as it’s fun and something he doesn’t have to constantly prove himself with.
Hell, he’d probably always write about Callum if he has the chance.
He enters the library’s foyer and sits on the bench, letting the heaters lull him into a sense of comfort and ease after it feels like he’d been tense the entire day.
The doors to the library open not long after, and he’s whisked out of his fantasy to be thrown into another one, with Callum’s towering frame making its way into the foyer.
Mason immediately gets up, his heart racing like he’s going to have an anxiety attack and hugs Callum. It’s their typical greeting now. It lasts longer than normal hugs do, because Callum never seems to want to let go.
When their chests touch, Mason feels safe and all of the humming crowd of people in his head telling him what to hide and what to do dulls and it’s just the two of them.
Callum’s the only one who can do that.
“How are you?” Callum asks, his voice muffled by Mason’s coat.
“I’m exhausted. I’ve been studying all week and doing equations in my head, and I can’t stop picturing doing the chain rule for trigonometric functions.”
“I truly have no idea what that means.”
“I know you don’t. You’re too pretty to know stuff like that.”
Callum snorts and parts from Mason, taking Mason’s face in his cold hands. Mason doesn’t care that his hands hurt simply from the cold, the warmth Callum brings with him like he’s a heater is calming enough.
Callum quirks an eyebrow at Mason.
“What?” Mason asks after chuckling.
“You don’t see how pretty you are do you?”
Mason’s cheek flush, and he looks down. “Callum.”
“I’m serious, Mase. People can be pretty and be good at science. You’re the prime example.”
Mason looks up at Callum who smiles at him like he means it. Mason can’t help but think Callum’s just trying to be nice. He’s the quarterback of the football team and is a good one at that.
It’s hard for him to accept that someone so seemingly otherworldly and out of his league could think that way about him. He doesn’t think too much about how attractive he is or isn’t, but hearing those words from Callum, he can’t help but be forced to think about it.
Girls were all over Callum in high school, and they surely still are now. But Callum’s still here, telling Mason that he’s pretty when a whole other world was out there waiting for him and its adoration.
“You’re really special, Callum.” Is all Mason could muster. Callum has a way of shutting Mason up and making him utterly speechless. Ever since they were kids, all Mason could do was marvel at Callum and how much amazed him.
“You are too, Mason. And come to think of it…”
Callum pats Mason’s shoulder once, but there’s meaning behind it, like it’s more than just a “bro” thing, and more of a Mason thing.
“I want to show you something special. Come with me.”
Callum cranes his neck and scans the foyer, only to see no one in sight and puts out his hand for Mason to take.
Mason inhales sharply and thinks that it’s probably a bad idea and that it’s risky, but he does it anyway. He’s getting closer and closer to throwing caution to the wind.
Mason takes it and it’s like the world goes quiet. It’s just the two of them.
His chest fills with electricity as Callum starts running, practically pulling Mason behind him like he’s a dog on a leash.
Surprisingly, Callum already seems to know the library building well, and dashes into a side stairwell and runs up the steps with Mason, their steps echoing around the narrow staircase.
Mason’s huffing and puffing. Callum is remarkably unaffected, and Mason wishes he worked out half as much as Callum probably did.
They finally reach the top and burst through a metal door.
Chilly wind rushes through the door, mussing Mason’s hair and making him squint even behind his glasses. He zips up his coat as a knee-jerk reaction.
They’re on the roof of the library, which Mason didn’t really conceptualize existing until now. He didn’t even know it was accessible to the public.
“Are we allowed up here?”
Callum smirks and glances at Mason. “Not really, but no one comes up here or checks. I always come here when I need some time away from everything.”
Mason’s teeth chatter as he nods. “Even when it’s cold like this?”
“You’re a cold little guy, aren’t you?” Callum says jokingly, but it only comes off as endearing.
Mason nods as his teeth chatter some more like he’s in a cartoon.
“We can go somewhere else if you want.”
Mason shakes his head.
“Alright, but I can give my coat if you need.”
“I’m okay. This place is important to you. I want to honor that, and I refuse to complain.”
Mason swears Callum blushes, but it’s likely the sheer coldness of the wind and having rosy cheeks as a result.
Callum takes Mason’s hand again and guides him to the parapet, and they both take a seat on it.
It’s too cold for Mason’s backside, but he swore he wouldn’t complain, so he endures the cold like a champ.
They sit in silence for a few moments. Mason has this suspicion that Callum wants to talk to him about something, but something that he’s learned about Callum is that he can’t yank answers out of him. He has to be willing to give them of his own volition.
It would upset any normal journalist, but Mason isn’t any normal journalist.
Likely why his mom dislikes Callum so much.
“I’ve been thinking a lot recently. About… what happened with us. Back in your freshman year at Northwood.”
Mason’s chest clenches at the mention of that year. It had been by far the worst.
He met Jenna during that year, but he always thinks of that year as him getting home and spending his afternoons crying on his bed listening to sad music and his lunch periods sitting alone in the library because he was too scared to eat alone.
He’d go hungry, but it was less painful than having everyone watch and whisper about how he was eating alone and make fun of him for it.
He knows it was all imagined worst-case scenarios, but he was so terrified of anyone seeing him that he’d just hide in between the bookcases or in corner tables of the library and carefully snack on small things just so no one had a chance to make fun of him or know that Callum had tossed him aside for something better.
“Yeah?” Mason says, but his voice betrays him and shakes as he says it.
Callum notices and nods solemnly but breathes and takes his time.
“I know I mention my dad as the main reason for it… and I would say he is. I know at the end of the day it was my fault, but—I didn’t tell you everything, Mase.”
Mason shifts in his seat, trying to angle himself to face Callum more.
“I—I was scared to t-tell you. But I think I have to.”
Callum’s voice shakes like it never has and he looks like he’s on the verge of breaking down and Mason has never seen him like this. It seemingly comes out of nowhere, given how playful he had just been.
He’s not sure if Callum had been drinking at the frat party he was at, but maybe it’s only hitting him now if he did.
Mason grabs Callum’s hand softly. “I’m here to listen, Cal. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mason notices Callum’s hands are shaking too, and he’s sure it’s not because of the cold.
“I—I’m not s-sure how… I can’t say it out l-loud. I’ve never told a-anyone—” Callum sniffs and looks away.
“Take your time. I’m right here,” Mason says, his voice quiet like he’s talking to a wounded alley cat.
Callum rubs his face with both his hands, hiding it. “I’m just so stressed about the team. And my parents. And the scouts. Just everything. Everyone’s always watching me and now there’s Joel and you, and—”
Mason’s stomach drops. “Me?”