Chapter 7
Mason
I managed to have a decent time at the bar, despite not having any alcohol.
My friends and I didn’t talk about any of the bad stuff, just caught up and reminisced about the good parts of our lives and high school.
A few people stopped at our table to ask how I was doing and gossip about the town, and I managed to lose myself in feeling okay for the first time in months.
At least until he passed by my table. My attention was instantly drawn to Elijah.
He didn’t seem to notice me as he walked by, though it was hard to tell since he’d pretended not to notice me since that day.
I’d seen him sit down alone at the table he shared with his friends by the dance floor, and none of his friends seemed to notice when he left the table and headed for the door.
He looked pretty trashed, like his world was spinning, and I thought he must be going for air, because he’d never been stupid, and I knew he wouldn’t try to drive like that.
As soon as he went out the door, Jaron and Tanner stood up.
I straightened instantly, watching. Derrick was in the bathroom, and Chris was still across from me, but he was talking to a girl I only vaguely recognized.
When Jaron and Tanner whispered to each other for a moment then headed for the door, I stood up and followed them.
Stepping outside, I realized my instincts had been right.
Elijah was sitting on the ledge of a blacked-out window, and they had him cornered there, taunting him.
I heard the word, “fag,” and it was all I needed to hear as he stared up at them helplessly.
He was too drunk to defend himself against one person, let alone an ambush that was completely unfair. Again.
“What the fuck is your problem, you douchebags?” I approached the group rapidly, and I was clearly the only sober person out here.
I was also bigger than either of these assholes, who’d obviously let themselves go once high school sports had ended.
Out of shape and drunk as hell. I could take them both if I needed to.
All three of them jumped slightly and turned to me when I spoke.
Elijah stared for a second, trying to focus.
Even after he saw me, he still looked uncertain, because I looked different, and by then I knew he truly hadn’t noticed my presence at the bar, hadn’t had time to wrap his mind around the fact that I was here.
His eyes finally widened slightly. Surprise was the first emotion, but then fear, because despite my words, all he had to go on was the asshole he knew I was when I left town. The asshole like them.
Jaron and Tanner stared at me open-mouthed for a minute. “Mason, is that you?” Jaron finally said. “What the hell, man? What are you doing here? Leave us alone. We need to deal with this.”
I stepped right up to the group, balling my hands into fists and looming over their drunken frames. “Deal with what, exactly? Because I never saw him bothering you. I saw him come outside alone, then you followed him, unprovoked, after sitting at the bar shit-talking to each other all night.”
Confusion and shock passed through those crystal eyes in the split second I dared to take my attention off his tormentors.
Had he really thought after all this time I’d still be the same asshole he’d known in high school?
I supposed people like Jaron and Tanner were the only thing he had to base his classmates’ growth on.
My eyes returned to my targets. “I think you both need to go back inside.”
“Or what?” Tanner slurred, too drunk to have any sense of self-preservation. “What the fuck happened to you, Hale? You used to be on the right side.”
“I used to be a fucking idiot,” I hissed. “I grew up. Something the two of you have obviously never done.” I shoved forward a little bit more, right into Tanner’s space.
“Fuck you,” Tanner said, refusing to back down. “This isn’t about you. Leave us alone.”
“If you’re out here threatening someone who hasn’t done anything to you, then I’m making it about me.” I shoved him backward with my chest. “So I’m going to tell you one more time. It’s in your best interest to go the fuck back into the bar without making a scene.”
“What, are you a fag now too?” Tanner hissed, moving to shove me.
I caught his wrist and spun him around, pulling him into a headlock as he flailed around.
Jaron rushed forward to help his friend, but as he did so, Elijah stuck his foot out and Jaron tripped, tumbling to the ground.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me, but he got up even more pissed than he had been before.
I sighed and flung Tanner to the ground, preparing for a real fight, but the bar door slammed open and I heard Chris’s voice bellow, “What the hell is going on?” He rushed over to our group.
He’d been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk, and both of the assholes who’d been gathering themselves to fight back paused when they realized a police officer in his own jurisdiction was heading toward them.
“What’s happening . . .” I spoke up before either of them could open their mouths. “Is that these assholes tried to ambush Elijah out here alone. I’ve been listening to them trash talk him all night. So when they followed him outside, I followed them.”
Elijah was looking at me in bewilderment.
Chris just looked pissed. “You two. I swear to god, you’re the biggest pains in my ass.
If you want to keep going, I can take you to jail, off duty or not.
If you want to stop being fools, then get the fuck out of here, sleep it off, and stay the fuck away from Elijah from here on out.
I mean it. My eye is on you, and I don’t give a fuck who your friends are.
The whole force is going to hear about this.
The fact that your alibi for that night isn’t airtight is not looking good for you right now.
Everyone in this town knows you’re the most homophobic dicks here, and we’re all watching you.
I suggest you keep that in mind. Go suck each other’s dicks or whatever you do when the bar closes. Go on!”
They looked furious at his words, but even drunk they knew better than to press their luck with a local cop. They slunk off, away from the bar. Chris looked at Elijah. “You okay?”
Elijah nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just going to . . . I’m going to call a cab. I just want to go home.” His face had shifted completely from the happy, fun-loving guy I’d seen on the dance floor, into someone who looked like he’d dealt with this shit all his life.
I spoke up. “Come on. I’ll get you home. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol all night.”
Elijah looked up at me warily, like he thought I’d take him and beat the shit out of him somewhere. The look shattered my heart even more. “No, that’s okay. I can get a cab.” He started digging around in his pockets, but he dropped his phone as soon as he got a hold of it.
Chris picked up the phone and handed it to him.
“Hey,” he said, touching Elijah’s arm. “It’s okay.
He really hasn’t been drinking. He’s a cop, man.
He’s grown up. He isn’t going to hurt you.
He’ll get you home safe.” Could I feel more like a piece of shit?
“He isn’t the same Mason from high school, I promise.
” We’d barely kept in touch, but I had a feeling Chris understood more than he’d ever let on. He knew I wouldn’t hurt Elijah.
“I just want to make sure you get home and those pricks don’t follow you,” I said softly. “Because I don’t trust that they won’t. And if they try it with me, they’re going to regret it. Severely.”
Elijah looked into my eyes for a minute, almost as though he could read my mind. Like he was assessing my feelings and intentions. He must have either decided he could trust me, or he was too drunk to let himself think about it any further. “Fine,” he mumbled, and stood up on wobbly legs.
I glanced at Chris. “I’ll get him home. Tell Derrick we’ll hang out another time.”
Chris nodded. “Be careful, man.” He gave me a pat on the shoulder and headed back inside.
I inclined my head toward my car and headed off, Elijah stumbling along after me.
He had his phone out and was typing out a text, probably to his friends still inside.
He caught up to me and I glanced down at the phone, managing to suppress my laugh when I read it.
Don feel grade. Good home. Havr a ride. Tslk to you tmorroq.
I wondered if his friends were drunk enough to decipher it.
“That’s me,” I said, motioning to my car.
Elijah glanced at the car, but then slurred, “Hold on. I have to get something out of my car.” He pulled out his keys, weaving through the other cars.
He hit the alarm first, got it to turn off, then locked it three times before managing to get it unlocked.
He was far enough away that I actually let out the chuckle this time.
He climbed into the back seat and rummaged around for a minute, then came out with a bag of damn cat food, locking the door again before heading over to my car.
Elijah hesitated at the passenger door of my car, looking torn. He still wasn’t looking at me. “Elijah,” I said quietly. “Do you remember when we were best friends?”
He paused and looked in my direction, but still not at me. He didn’t respond to the question.