14. Lilah
LILAH
After fleeing the pool house, my “sleep” mostly consisted of fitful tossing and turning. I’d given up at three a.m. and crept back across the lawn bleary-eyed to get my uniforms, only to find the washer and dryer empty.
A nauseating sadness slid over me. What the hell had he done with my uniforms? Thrown them away? Given them a bleach bath? The yearning that flashed in my mind at his tailor-precise, guilt-ridden words felt stupid now.
He’d wanted something. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t have been good for me. Now I could only hope that whatever he lashed out with next wouldn’t hurt any more than what he’d done already.
Before anyone else woke up, I got dressed and hoped I could find a uniform that fit in the lost and found bin or take the demerits.
I put on my coat, grabbed my backpack, headed outside and stopped short at the large sage-green lidded box sitting on the top step.
Crouching, I leaned away a little and flicked off the lid, expecting…a snake? A glitter bomb? A powdery explosion that covered me like a dye pack from a bank robbery? Just nothing good at all.
The lid thunked to the stone step. Peering inside, I scrunched my face in bewilderment. A single piece of paper with a handwritten message sat on top.
Sorry I interrupted you last night, but I thought you might need these. M
The paper shook in my trembling fingers as confusion ricocheted in my chest, a painful, ping-ponging mess.
My uniforms. Clean. Dry. Folded. Here.
Looking around, I brought the box back inside as if wild animals might scent fresh meat and attack. My survival mode switch was broken when it came to Mason.
Everything I’d put into the washer was here. One blazer, three shirts and three skirts. And the rest, even my underwear, at the very bottom. They looked clean and ironed and smelled like Mason.
I ran my fingers over them, checked every inch for a fray or mark that hadn’t been there before. Even after his confession last night, I’d expected a little punishment for running out on him. But this…
I stopped myself. Do not get sucked in, Lilah. A nice gesture didn’t mean anything Mason had done to me was forgiven, just like dropping off my homework. It didn’t mean he could be trusted.
If anything, it proved that his anger could switch off as quickly as his sweet, sweet words.
I picked up my shirt and sniffed it. His sandalwood scent filled my nose.
It was the detergent he’d used for his gear over the summer.
He’d rewashed it all. A pang nudged at my heart.
Unsure, I got dressed, still running my hands over the clothes, searching for a stray pin or hole.
The school day was uneventful. I’d parked myself in the library before the first bell since I was awake so early and dedicated the uninterrupted hour to studying for my genetics test. The early morning quiet with the smell of old paper and polished wood helped me absorb the material.
I concentrated on my notes and nothing else.
During lunch, Mason hadn’t shown up to the sewing lab, although I’d been checking the door so often there was a knot in my neck. I went to my locker to grab my English notebook.
Paige rambled about the prom theme announcement. I had no interest and wasn’t going to drop hundreds of dollars on a ticket. “Didn’t someone show up in a helicopter last year?”
“Only a two-seater.”
I got my locker open and tugged my English notebook free. The class I shared with Mason. Maybe he was out sick today.
As if I’d conjured him, he walked down the hallway with Galen, Erik and Calder. People moved out of their way as usual. It was easier to gawk at them from the sidelines.
I turned away, almost wedging myself into my locker, hoping the door blocked me enough for them to walk right by.
Beside me, Paige gasped. “Hey, Mason.” She said over my shoulder.
“Paige. Lilah,” he said, his tone softening at my name. A kind of velvety caress.
A heated flash sparked through me. With nowhere to run, I closed my locker and turned to face him. “Mason.”
Curious eyes watched us, fingers flying on semi-pocketed phones. Where was a teacher when you needed one?
“I’ll get out of your way.” I stepped back and Paige yelped, not getting the clue at all to move. Instead, she stared at Mason like he was her new best friend, not moving a muscle, keeping me sandwiched between her and him.
“I’ll walk with you.” He reached for my bag. “Let me carry that—”
I jerked back and elbowed Paige in the right boob, nearly walking up the front of her.
“Ow!” she yelped and finally took the hint to move back, giving me a little more breathing room and rubbing the spot on her chest that I hit.
“No, thank you.” I glanced around at the dozens of eyes on us. This would whip around the school faster than a Hawthorne Hawks slapshot and probably hurt just as much when it hit me. Steeling myself for whatever came next, I met Mason’s gaze.
He searched my eyes as if trying to determine if I could be swayed. His shoulders dropped an almost imperceptible amount. At whatever he saw, he put more space between us and the grip on my lungs loosened.
He turned to the guys. “I’m going to walk with Lilah.”
Galen and Calder raised their chins in acknowledgment. Erik grinned and waved to me.
“Not like I can stop you,” I grumbled. Without waiting for Paige, I took off toward our shared class, trying to determine how long it would take him to get bored and find a new shiny interest. Clinging to a razor’s edge in my rank, a weekend away from submitting the last of my college applications, I couldn’t add anticipating when and where Mason was going to pop up and in what mood to my mental tasks.
Mason and Paige chatted like they were old friends and I was the third wheel sandwiched between them. Mason kept trying to get me to join the conversation. Paige, happy to pick up the slack, sounded chipper as a chipmunk as we blew past her classroom door and continued to mine.
Mason paused and hovered as if I couldn’t make it the ten steps to my desk from here.
“I need to talk to Paige about something.” I squeezed my backpack strap. “Privately.”
Reluctantly, as if he were Velcroed to me, he nodded, peeled himself away from us and ducked inside.
I grabbed Paige’s arm and tugged her a few steps away. “Since when are you a Mason stan?”
Her eyes widened before shuttering like she’d been caught. “He’s being nice.”
“So?” I stared at her, trying to figure out when I’d slipped into this alternate universe where I was the only one with a non-goldfish memory.
“So, there’s nothing wrong with being nice back.”
“There is when he might turn around tomorrow and have the whole school shun me or tell me to get the hell out.”
She fidgeted with the end of her hair, flicking it with her fingers. “I don’t think he’s going to do that.”
“You don’t think…” I sucked in a deep breath and released it. “That’s the whole point and I hate that you aren’t backing me up.”
Her hands shot out to my arms, eyes a little watery. “Of course I’m always on your side, Lilah. I’m sorry. I—I just didn’t want to go into bitch mode, if you and Mason are okay now.” Her grip on me was frantic, bordering on hysterical. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
I sighed, confusion keeping my annoyance and anger from ratcheting any higher. “I’m not mad at you, Paige. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of my only friend here.”
She lunged forward and squeezed me chokingly tight.
I patted her back because she felt like the one close to a breakdown. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”
She released me and stared into my eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” I massaged my temple. “The Mason situation is messing with my head.”
She patted my arm. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s screwing with you.”
I cut a glance at the classroom door. “If only I had a way to know that’s true.”
Her mouth opened and snapped shut before she nodded. “I’ll see you at the pep rally.” The bell rang and the last of the late students scurried through the hallway.
Paige squeezed my arm. “When it comes to Mason…just give it some time.”
“Not like I have any other choice.” I slipped into the classroom, glad Mrs. Turner hadn’t said anything about me coming in after the bell, but stopped right before my seat.
Mason wasn’t in his normal spot at the back of the class. That would be too easy. No, he’d gone full barnacle-mode and sat in the desk beside mine in the front row like he’d always been there.
Nervous wings flapped in my stomach as he watched me slide into my seat and set out my tablet and notebook.
Mrs. Turner didn’t say a word about the new seating arrangement, and getting up to move to the back of the classroom would only draw more attention. So I sat there, keenly aware of every time he looked over at me.
All around me, while Mrs. Turner attempted a lesson on the class and reputational implications in Pride and Prejudice, my classmates pulled face paint out of their bags, readying themselves to get on the supporter buses and head to the game.
With twenty minutes of class left, our teacher closed out the smart board screen and reminded us we’d be heading down to the Hawthorne Hockey pep rally, like she wasn’t sitting in front of twenty students with faces painted red, white and gold.
Mason peeled his fingers off the edges of his desk and left before the rest of the class.
A wave of relief washed over me. I’d at least be able to walk to the rally on my own, and then home since he’d be on the team bus to his game after the final bell rang.
Droves of students filled the hallway, excitedly chattering and cheering for the game.
My stomach twisted into a puzzle of knots.
Paige caught up with me in the hallway.
“I forgot or I would’ve pulled the concussion card to get out of this. Why didn’t you remind me?” I grumbled.
She turned to face me with red-and-white stripes on both her cheeks and gold on her eyelids. “Come on, it won’t be so bad.”
“Fully converted, huh?”