Chapter 33
MASON
Mason knocks on the Brown household door.
His teeth chatter and snowflakes cling to his eyelashes.
He knows it’s a bad idea to be doing this, but he doesn’t want to be anywhere near his house anymore. He just wants to be somewhere else.
He didn’t even text Callum; he just wanted to see him.
The door opens, and Callum’s stepmom, Tammy, answers the door, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
A sinking feeling pools in his stomach, realizing he’s at the Brown household and didn’t even tell Callum he was coming. He just made one of the dumbest decisions, ever.
“Mason...?” Tammy asks.
He nods.
She looks behind her, like she’s trying to hide the fact that he’s here.
“You must be here to see Callum.”
Mason nods and sniffles, hoping his previously tear-stained eyes aren’t giving him away.
She doesn’t appear like the monster that Callum makes her out to be. She seems almost sympathetic. She tugs down on her maroon knitted sweater.
She twists her mouth in apprehension.
“We just finished dinner, but he’s in the living room with Mr. Brown now. Just give me one second and I’ll get him.”
Mason nods and she smiles sympathetically at him before closing the door softly behind her.
He sighs and leans on the pillar.
He really shouldn’t be here. Not only is he putting himself in danger, but he’s also putting Callum there, too. It’s only going to make his father angry.
How could he make such a stupid decision? He’s the smart one. He utilizes logic all the time. This is one of the most illogical things he’d ever done.
But being with Callum is illogical.
He glances at the door and backs himself off the pillar, shaking his head as he walks down the stoop back down the driveway.
He shouldn’t have come. He should have just called Callum instead of going headfirst into the worst idea he’s ever had.
He skids as his running shoes glide over the ice. He left in such a saddening stupor that he forgot to put on his boots.
“Mason?”
Callum’s voice comes like an angel’s, making Mason stop in his tracks.
He turns around, and Callum appears in the front door in a dress shirt and dress pants, his breath billowing out of his mouth.
“Cal,” Mason cries, his chin wobbling as he tries walking toward Callum.
Callum takes a step back. “What are you doing here?”
He notices Mason wipe a tear from his face. “What happened?” Callum asks, his tone worried and serious.
Mason wipes another tear from his face.
Callum’s looks over his shoulder, likely waiting for his dad to appear in the doorway.
“He—Joel. He—he told my family everything. He—he ruined everything.”
Callum’s eyes widen and his face softens briefly from the previously anxious disposition he had earlier.
“Mase…” Callum exhales sharply. “I’m gonna break his legs. Where is he?”
The door creaks open and Mason’s heart stutters as he sees Mr. Brown come out, with Tammy right behind him, practically tugging on his arm.
“Daniel, just leave them alone, okay? Come back inside.”
“What the hell is going on out here?” Mr. Brown asks, his eyes ablaze with fury already.
He practically swats Tammy’s hand away and stands next to Callum, staring daggers at Mason.
Mason used to think he wasn’t scared of Mr. Brown. He was all bark and no bite. But with what Callum had told him about his abuse, and how furious he appeared now, Mason is terrified of him.
He has the menacing presence of an attack dog; he’s just missing the drool coming from his bared teeth.
“Mason was just saying Happy Thanksgiving,” Callum says immediately, his voice taut and frame nearly frozen on the stoop.
Mason nods.
He glances between Callum and his father, and he can’t help but notice how tense they are with each other, with Callum practically frozen in fear from just hearing his dad’s menacing voice, like any second, he could get slapped.
“We don’t need anything from the Fannings. They’ve already said enough,” Mr. Brown barks.
Mason sighs and shakes his head. He wants to retort, but for once, Mr. Brown is right. He can’t try to defend his parents when his mom is one of the biggest gossips in town. And he’s being just like her by writing about Callum for the paper.
The Browns succeeded, and all the Fannings ever did was write about it. It’s a never-ending cycle that has been passed on to Callum and Mason.
But Mason has had enough. The cycle can’t continue. It starts and ends with him. Mr. Brown needs someone to stand up to him, and if it’s going to be anyone, it’s going to be a Fanning.
“Like help your wife when she was in the hospital? Dedicate their time to taking care of Callum when you wouldn’t?” Mason hisses back at Mr. Brown.
Mr. Brown takes his hand off Callum’s shoulder and slowly slinks down the steps to stand in front of Mason.
Callum’s eyes flood with panic, but he stays where he is. Tammy does the same, crossing her arms as she tries to shield herself from the cold.
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Mason. Callum got to where he is because of me. As soon as Callum left you in the dust…”
He laughs, glancing back at Callum. “He started succeeding. And he’ll go pro without any of your help.
All you have are your stupid words and headlines, and they do nothing for my boy.
He’s where he is because of me. April was sick and she wouldn’t have done any better or worse without your bloodsucking family. ”
“Dad.”
Callum balls his fists, his body shaking now, but Mason knows it isn’t from the cold. It’s from something much more burrowed. Something dormant for years.
“Yes, Callum? Is there something you’d like to say?”
Callum blinks, like he wasn’t expecting his father to actually listen to him and just continue to dig into Mason.
Callum opens and closes his mouth like a fish underwater as he looks between Mason, Tammy, and Mr. Brown.
Mason wipes away at a tear. He desperately wants Callum to stand up for him. He’s at his lowest right now, and he just needs someone to tell him that everything will be okay.
That he’s been making the right decisions.
“No, Dad. Mason was just saying goodbye.”
Mason’s heart decelerates to a halt. His jaw slackens as he stares at Callum.
Callum’s eyes are wide as he looks at Mason, his eyes full of panic and regret.
Tammy furrows her eyebrows at Callum, like she’s watching someone unfamiliar to her. The feeling is mutual for Mason.
“I think it’s best you leave now, Mason,” Mr. Brown says, crossing his arms and staring Mason down like he’s a burglar on their property.
A slight croak escapes Mason’s throat. Icy wind blows through them, and Mason stares at Callum.
“Cal—”
“Just go, Mason,” Callum interrupts. He puts his hands in his pockets and studies the floor of the porch as if it’s suddenly very interesting, averting his eyes from Mason completely.
Mason could burn a hole through Callum with the way he’s staring at him.
After all this time. Everything they’ve been through.
All of the apologies and the make-ups.
All of the times Callum stood up for Mason.
It’s all washed away. Callum can’t stand up for him when it really matters.
In his darkest moment, Callum is telling him to leave. He’s choosing his father and football over him. Just like he always knew Callum would.
“Fine. Goodbye, Callum. Have a nice life.”
Mason sniffles and storms off the porch, not daring to look over his shoulder back at Callum and his dejected disposition.
He sobs as he trudges aimlessly down the roads of Northwood, with nowhere to go and nowhere to call home.
He made Montgomery his home, and now he’s paid the price.
He would have stayed forever if Callum had just stood up to his father. If he said that Mason was one of the best things that ever happened to him. That Mason understood him and wanted him to succeed.
But Callum didn’t. And he never would.