Chapter 31
MASON
“The football season’s been crazy. We’re doing even better than last year, right Mason?”
Joel’s voice sends fury through his veins as Mason mashes the potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner.
Joel’s holding court with Mason’s parents, Aunt Josie, and his cousin, Elena in the living room, smiling like he’s won the championship game already. He popped in with Elena and his aunt earlier today much to Mason’s chagrin.
Mason smiles thinly, trying to keep himself from flipping Joel off. Not like anyone else would see it, they’re too enthralled by Joel and whatever he has to say to even turn to look at Mason.
Cooking is one way Mason feels like he can calm down on Thanksgiving. His parents usually take care of the turkey and the important food, but he always does the potatoes.
This time of year comes with stress, and getting to use a potato masher is one way he can get his frustrations out and forget about all the hiding and lying it comes with. The gritted teeth and the clenched knuckles.
“Callum Brown is always getting most of the fanfare, and the team itself doesn’t get enough credit. It’s always Callum this, Callum that. He’s great, but it’s getting tired that everyone’s always singing his praises.”
Joel’s gaze flits toward Mason again, with a playful smirk on his face like he knows he’s getting under his skin.
Mason wants to throttle him, but he continues mashing the potatoes, tuning into the crackle of the fireplace like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
His mother scoffs. “It’s been that way for a while. I’m sure you saw it at Northwood, too,” his mother chimes in before taking a sip of her merlot.
Mason huffs and mashes even harder. These potatoes are going to be liquid by the time he’s done with them if Joel doesn’t shut up.
It’s one thing to hide Callum, but it’s another to have people actively dunk on him, especially when he can’t come to his defense.
“I thought you were close with Callum? Aren’t you guys roommates?” Elena asks, her eyebrows furrowed at him, her intuition already questioning Joel’s pomp.
“On the field, maybe. He’s always thought he was some kind of hotshot. He plays great, but I’m tired of all the praise being about him. It’s time the rest of the team gets time in the spotlight.”
“I suppose that’s true. One thing about the Browns is that they always need to be the center of attention, especially Mr. Brown,” his dad says.
Mason freezes at the mention of Callum’s dad. He wonders if they know of his treachery and extended that disdain toward Callum merely by association. But they don’t know what he’s gone through. They don’t know what Callum has seen.
“He was at the last game wasn’t he, Mason?” Joel asks Mason directly.
The entire living room turns to him now, covered in potato on his apron and on his cheeks.
He tries wiping some off his cheeks with his sleeve to buy himself some time. He wants to tackle Joel like he’s a football player himself. He’d probably fail miserably, but he still wants to do it anyway like he could. Maybe he has a secret tackling ability deep down that he doesn’t know about.
“He was,” Mason deadpans.
“And how was he?” Joel asks.
Mason sighs. He doesn’t know what Joel’s angle is right now. He doesn’t know about Mason and Callum, but he surely knows it’s a sore spot. There’s history between them, and Joel can seek that out like a predator trying to catch its prey.
“He was pretty belligerent if I’m being honest. He was being really hard on Callum. He was sitting behind Jenna and I.”
His mother squints at him, trying to gather some kind of information from him that he doesn’t want her to know.
“So you agree then? The Browns always want to be the center of attention?” Joel pushes.
Mason opens his mouth and his gaze darts between his parents and his cousins.
Now he knows without a shred of doubt that Joel knows about them. He’s not sure how. They’ve been discreet. They’ve only hung out in private. But the way Joel looks at him and the questions he’s asking, he knows about Callum and him being more than just friendly.
It’s cruel. He wants to see how far Mason is willing to go to lie to his family, and not only to lie, but to lie at the cost of Callum’s integrity.
“By the way you’re holding court in the living room and dunking on your own teammate and roommate, I would think you like to be the center of attention yourself, Joel.”
He almost slaps his hand to his mouth as he says it, but it flows out of him like his pen to paper when he writes about Callum.
“Mason,” his mom chides, her eyebrows furrowed like she’s surprised at him for his snark.
Joel laughs. “Good one, Mason. I knew I could rely on you to have a good comeback.”
The rest of the room starts to laugh as they realize that they think it’s a joke rather than a diss.
Mason doesn’t understand Joel. What is he getting out of antagonizing him? He took the bait and bit back. But Joel’s playing it off as a joke instead of exposing Mason.
Is it fun to keep torturing Mason like this? Is Joel waiting for the perfect moment to put him under the microscope?
Joel goes back to holding court and Mason goes back to attempted murder on the potatoes.
He turns around, takes out his phone and texts Callum.
Mason
Joel’s making this the Thanksgiving from Hell.
He won’t stop dunking on you.
You need new friends.
And a new roommate.
Mason looks back at the living room and catches eyes with Elena, who looks at him curiously, like she can sense the tension between them and doesn’t think Mason’s snark was a joke or a comeback. That he was being truly honest with Joel.
He smiles at her briefly and looks back at his phone as he starts getting a call from Callum.
He gives one final glance at the family before going to his room and closing the door so no one can hear him on the phone.
“Please come and save me,” Mason says as he answers the Callum’s call.
“You know I would in a heartbeat if it didn’t mean both of our families would spontaneously combust.”
Mason plops onto his bed. “Well, our families are not made of hydrocarbons, so that would be pretty hard.”
Callum laughs on the other end. “You’re such a dork, you know.”
Mason grins. “So I’ve been told many times by a very cute football player.”
Silence falls between them for a bit.
“I wish I could come to your place for dinner. It would be better than just me, my dad, and Tammy.”
Mason turns over onto his stomach on his bed. The telescope Callum got for him stares at him on his dresser, making Mason’s heart flutter.
“I think it would be a shitshow. You, Joel, and my parents all together? It would be one for the ages.”
“Better than my dad pestering me about everything and anything football.”
Mason sighs and looks out his window, admiring the dancing Christmas lights hanging on the trellis through the frost-covered window.
How he wishes things were easier for them. He just wishes they could live their lives doing what they loved. Callum is doing it, but he’s so anchored to feeling pressured and so self-effacing in his methods that it made it impossible for him to fully enjoy it.
A knock raps at his door.
“Dinner’s almost ready, Mason,” his mom’s voice calls from the other side.
“I have to go. I’ll call you after dinner, okay?”
Callum sighs through the phone. “Fine. Just—let me know if you need to escape, okay? I’m one call away, Mase.”
Mason grins. “Same for me. If you need to get away, you’re welcome here. I’ll hide you in my room.”
Callum laughs. “I might take you up on that.”
Mason sighs. “Alright, gotta go. Talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Mason.”
Mason hangs up and groans as he gets off his bed and leaves his room.
He’s expecting the worst but hoping for the best. Dinner is always the most tense, especially with Joel holding court.
Maybe it’s time Mason pestered Joel for once.
“I like to think that I’m a more underrated player on the team being a running back.”
Mason rolls his eyes. Joel’s still going on about football. Does he have nothing else to talk about? There has to be something deeper to him than snark and football.
Something awakes inside of Mason as no one else decides to respond to Joel.
He takes a forkful of green beans and smiles with mirth at Joel. “What do you like about football, Joel?”
He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but he’s trying to get under Joel’s skin now. He’s stoking the fire, and he knows it, but what does he have to lose?
If Joel wants to do something about Mason’s secrets surrounding his major, he would have done something about it already.
If Joel has some kind of agenda, he would have revealed Mason’s secrets ages ago. All he’s doing is bothering Mason just for the fun of it, because he can.
Joel furrows his eyebrows at Mason. “I like the game obviously.”
Mason shrugs. “Yeah, but what is it about it that makes you feel so alive? That makes your heart soar? I haven’t heard you ever speak a word about what you love so much about it,” Mason says innocently.
Joel scoffs. “I think it’s fun,” he mumbles.
Mason knows he’s setting Joel on edge. All he talks about is the prestige of being on the team and wanting more attention, but he has nothing to say when it comes to actually liking the sport itself.
“Well, I’m sure if I ever do a player profile on you, you can tell me more about what you love about it,” Mason says, taking another bite of his green beans.
Elena darts her head back and forth between Mason and Joel like she’s watching a tennis match. The rest of the family seems impartial or unaware of what’s really going on, but if they notice anything, they’re decidedly ignoring it.
Joel nearly slams his fork down on his napkin, his disposition morphing from displeasure to bitterness. “Will you have time for the paper with your physics classes in the winter semester?”
That gets his parents’ attention. They stop mid-chewing and glance between Mason and Joel with confused glances.