Chapter 31 #2
“I’m only taking one physics class as an elective,” Mason mumbles, his confidence from earlier seeping out of him quicker than it had entered.
His mom squints her eyes at Mason so imperceptibly that only he could notice. But he knows it’s suspicion. She has her antenna up.
“Oh really? You’re allowed to take that many electives in one semester? Only one physics class as part of your major?”
His dad clears his throat. “I think you’re confused, Joel. Mason’s a journalism major, he’s doing physics as a minor, or he’s taking some physics classes as electives,” his dad says as he twirls his fork in the air aimlessly as he tries to figure out what Mason’s classes are.
Joel juts his lip out and widens his eyes in fake surprise. “Oh. I thought Mason was a physics major.”
Mason clenches his fork in his hands, wanting to kick Joel’s shin from underneath the table. But he can’t be completely upset; Mason is the one who started it.
“No. He’s on The Goldberg. It would be quite silly of him to be doing the paper while doing a major other than journalism or english,” his mother says hastily.
“It really would be,” Mason mumbles out as he digs a spoon into his mashed potatoes.
“I must have heard wrong, then. As far as I knew, Mason was doing the paper just to kiss Callum Brown’s ass.”
“Joel,” Mason hisses through his gritted teeth.
Elena furrows her eyebrows. “Joel, what’s going on?”
His mom leans forward in her chair, putting her elbows on the table, likely also interested in why Joel is being so cryptic.
“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Mason a physics major? I mean, he’s always in classes in the physics building, doing physics labs, talking to physics professors. I hardly ever see him in the Journalism building unless it’s for the paper.”
“Have you been stalking me or something?” Mason immediately interrupts.
“Joel, we’re having Thanksgiving dinner,” Elena mumbles to him, but everyone can hear her.
“What is Joel talking about, Mason?” his mom asks with thick accusation in her tone.
Mason’s pulse races as the entire table turns to him.
“I—I…”
He feels as if the air in the room is stifling him, like he’ll keel over at any second because he can’t get enough air into his lungs. They’re going to find out. Everyone will know. They’ll know about his classes. Callum. It will all be taken away from him.
“I lied, I took two physics classes this semester,” Mason blurts out. He’s on his way out of the prison, with one foot out and one foot in.
“Why would you lie about that Mason?” his father asks.
Mason opens his mouth but is interrupted. “Because he’s lying about everything, Mr. and Mrs. Fanning.”
Mason nearly throws his spoon at Joel and his smirk. What did Mason do to deserve so much malice and hatred directed at him by Joel? Why is Joel so adamant to take him down?
His parents’ eyes dart back and forth in between Joel and Mason. His Aunt Josie is living for all of it, a playful smile on her lips as she also looks between them. Elena’s more concerned and looking at Mason with sympathy.
“Mason. Why is Joel saying you’re lying about everything?” his mom asks, her voice firmer now.
Mason gulps. Everyone’s leaning forward in their chairs except for Joel. He’s leaning back like he’s got Mason in checkmate, and he pretty much does. There’s no way out of it now. Maybe he can still keep Callum a secret, but his schooling is out of the question now.
“I—I lied about the-the classes I’m talking at Montgomery.”
His mom and dad raise their eyebrows at him.
“What did you lie about, Mason?” his father asks.
Mason inhales and rubs his eyes, like he’s trying to keep himself from crying.
He wasn’t anticipating having this conversation so soon.
He pictured it years from now, while he was in his last semester or even just before his graduation.
Not at Thanksgiving dinner where it’s being forced out of him like he’s being waterboarded.
“M-my major. It’s—it’s not… journalism.”
His mother inhales and bites her lip, likely keeping herself from being too harsh with him. They’re at the dinner table with guests, after all.
“What are you majoring in then, Mason?” she asks, her voice taut, her gaze unwavering like she’s shooting laser eyes at him.
“It’s—it’s…”
A sob almost escapes Mason’s throat, like his secret has been lodged in his lungs and needs to be hacked out or have CPR done on him to cough it out of him. Like his sob is his secret.
“Physics. Joel’s right.”
Long, hard, sighs come from his parents’ end of the table. His mom nearly throws her cutlery down on the plate, and his dad twists his mouth as he leans back in his chair.
His cheeks burn with embarrassment. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. It isn’t supposed to happen in front of the rest of his family and Joel himself.
It’s supposed to be his secret to tell. His confession to make.
Mason stands up, his chair screeching behind him as he focuses on Joel like a heat-seeking missile. “Are you happy now, asshole? That I had to be forced to tell my parents and not on my own time, huh?”
His mom looks at him incredulously. “Mason. Sit down.”
He ignores her. “What did you get out of it? Was teasing me at Northwood High not enough for you? Did you have to make me miserable in college too?”
His dad clears his throat. “Mason.”
“Do you really hate Callum that much that you have to implode my life because you can’t destroy his?”
“What’s he talking about, Joel?” Elena says, putting her hand on the table.
Joel snickers. “He’s just all upset that he’s being exposed. He’s a liar, and he’s being exposed for it. And I hate liars, simple as that,” Joel says all high and mighty like he’s some kind of martyr.
“This was my secret to tell them, asshole. I get to make my own decisions. This is my life, and it’s none of your damn business coming into my house and trying to tell me how to live it!” Mason nearly yells.
“Mason,” his mother says as she gets up and nearly pulls him back down to his chair, but he tries swatting her hand away.
“Are you really that jealous of Callum? You whine about him so much and you think it’s because he’s not as good as everyone thinks he is, but really, it’s because you want to be him, right?”
Joel sputters. “That—that’s not true, I—”
Mason points at Joel. “It is! You’re obsessed with Callum, actually.”
“Mason,” his dad warns.
Joel stands up from the table, his chest heaving and cheeks red. “I am not!”
Mason smirks. “Face it, you’re nothing compared to him. You’ll forever have to life in Callum’s shadow Joel, so grow up and deal with it.”
“Mason!” his mom yells, letting her cutlery clatter onto the table.
“I am not jealous of him,” Joel says, his voice nearly breaking.
Mason holds his hand up to his ear. “What was that about being a liar again? Tell me again, Joel. I want to hear the truth.”
Joel sputters as he looks around the dinner table, with everyone’s eyes on him.
Joel gulps, wipes his mouth with his napkin, and leaves the table, rounding a corner and goes off into the nearby bathroom with a puff of dust trailing behind him.
Mason snorts and turns to his parents. “And you wanna know why I hid everything, huh? Because I don’t exist to you outside of my writing.”
His mom opens her mouth to retort, but Mason stops her.
“All I’ve ever heard my entire life was ‘Mason you’re going to be a prolific writer like me someday’, ‘Oh Mason, don’t waste your time on silly equations, your writing will change the world’, ‘Mason, no one will care about what equations you can derive, they’re going to care about who you touched with your words and the legacy of the Fanning name’.
Like, are you really wondering why I lied to you? ”
His dad sighs through his nose and he swallows hard. His dad seems to realize the severity of Mason’s words. His mother, however, is still standing her ground and is rubbing her temples like he’s the most difficult son in the world.
“I have spent my entire life wanting to do physics. I love it with my entire heart. It’s all I think about.
I think about changing the world with my research and teaching kids about how beautiful and amazing science is.
I dream about doing nothing but physics for the rest of my life.
And I’ve said it over and over and over again. But you never listened.”
His dad bites his lip. His mom licks her lips and nods, her neck and shoulders tense, but listening.
“You didn’t care! You said it was all a waste of time. That writing was what I had to do. That what I loved was not important.”
Mason’s voice breaks, like he’s about to sob at how hurtful it is to realize that his parents denied him for so long from what he’s always wanted to do and who he’s wanted to be.
He’s been so scared of them finding out and hiding everything that he’s forgotten how heartbreaking it is for his parents to look down on what he loves and deny him who he really wants to be.
“I like writing. It’s fun. But I don’t love it.
It’s not my passion. So what do I do when I want to go to my dream school?
I apply to both physics and journalism. You would never let me do only physics.
I had to lie and—and cheat and hide myself just so that you’d accept me and pay my way through school.
That I did The Goldberg. That people liked my writing.
That I was getting good grades in journalism.
Because that’s all that ever mattered and that’s all that ever will matter to you both,” Mason says as he slams his finger on the mahogany table.
He sniffles as a single tear falls onto his cheek.
He swallows and backs away from the table. “Congratulations, Joel. You got exactly what you wanted. The truth!” he calls angrily down the hallway to Joel, who’s likely having a meltdown in front of the bathroom mirror.
He turns to the dinner table. “Oh, and thank you so much Mom and Dad, for pushing me so hard to do what you’ve always wanted me to do. Couldn’t have done it without you. Happy fucking Thanksgiving, everyone.”
He wipes the tears in his eyes as he leaves the dining room, shrugs on his jacket, opens the front door and slams it behind him, the jingling of the wreath on the door covering the defining slam of the door he left in his wake.