27. Mason #2
I throw the shot glasses in the sink and run upstairs to my room to grab my keys before walking over to the Gamma house, looking for Simone.
When I don’t find her there, I take the long, dreadful walk over to her dorm.
I’m standing at her door, feeling kinda pathetic all of a sudden.
Is it weird that I’m here?
Before I can turn around and leave, one of her roommates comes out of the room laughing and almost runs straight into me.
“You scared the shit out of me!” she says breathlessly, holding a hand to her chest.
I laugh a little. “My bad. Is…is Simone here?”
She looks back into the room and then back at me. “Um, yeah, she’s here.”
She walks past me, heading down the hall, and I just stand there for a second, staring into the room where Simone is sitting on the floor, pulling clothes out of a dresser and folding them into her suitcase.
She looks up at me and smiles.
A little wave of relief hits me that she’s not obviously mad at me.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asks, face lighting up in that way that warms all the cold parts inside of me.
I rub the back of my neck, feeling those earlier shots starting to really hit now.
“I…I um, I haven’t heard from you all morning, and you know…with how last night went. I just didn’t know if…if you were mad at me, or if I ruined the night for you or anything.”
She looks so confused, and then a small smile spreads across her lips. She frantically looks around for her phone, and when she finally finds it and turns it on, she sees the missed texts.
She lets out a little laugh. “I’m so sorry, Mason. I never even saw your texts. It’s been a hectic morning with packing and still trying to convince Lydia to come home for the break…I—” She looks up at me, trying to reassure me. “I wasn’t upset about last night…worried, yes. Mad? Never.”
“Why would you be worried?”
She raises a brow. “I don’t know, maybe because I’ve never seen you that wasted before…and because of some of the things you said…”
I try to pull more memories from last night and what I could have said, but mostly come up blank. I remember flashes of the night, but nothing I said.
“You don’t remember, do you?” she asks.
I lean against the doorframe to play off needing to steady myself a little, and cross my arms, shaking my head no.
I watch her fold a couple pairs of leggings as she weighs her words. “Well, the one that stood out the most to me was…you wanting to put a bullet in your head over going home for the holidays.”
I wince, wishing that wasn’t a thing I had said out loud…especially to her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to what? Have emotions?”
It’s silent for a moment.
“Why are you always apologizing for the way you feel, Mason?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Cause I…I didn’t mean for you to hear that, or for it to upset you. I was just drunk and…the holidays kinda…suck for me.”
She stands up and walks over to me at the door. “Don’t ever apologize for feeling your emotions. I only worry that they come out loud and messy in ways that can hurt you when you don’t let them out when you need to.”
“I—I don’t really have anywhere to let them out at. Never have. It was something I was taught not to do, actually. Don’t have anyone to talk to, even if I knew how.”
Her face drops, and I see the sadness written all over it. “You have me. I’m your friend. I care, and I’m always here to listen.”
What is it about this girl? I’ve never talked to anyone this easily since…since probably my mom.
I tried to with Jackie…and we see where that got me…hurt. But that risk isn’t here with Simone. She genuinely cares…with no motives, no gains, and no benefits out of it.
I’ve literally never met anyone like her. Never felt this safe around someone before.
I just nod, unable to respond without getting emotional. It feels like instinct to quickly push it all away.
She looks up at me and smiles, shaking her head, then pulls me into a full hug I wasn’t prepared for. She wraps her arms around me, and I have to pull my arms out from her grip to hug her back.
I’m not normally a big hugger, so I don’t really know how this works, but it feels like the hug lasts a really long time. She melts into my chest, and I can feel her laugh.
“What?” I ask, a little offended because I know she’s laughing at me.
“You’re stiffer than a board, Mason…does no one ever hug you?”
“Um…” I say, thinking about it. “No…no, not really.”
She pulls back. “I can tell. Maybe we need to fix that.”
I’ll take her hugs daily like a drug if she’d let me.
“Thank you, Simone.”
“For what?”
“For being you. For always being there. For…actually caring.”
She pats my arm before turning back to her stuff and sitting back down on the floor. “Ask anyone, I don’t let my friends suffer in silence. I’m loud with my caring. Sorry if it’s annoying.”
“Simone? Annoying? Not possible,” I tell her, walking into the room and sitting down next to her suitcase.
She looks confused but still smiles. “What are you doing?”
I pick up a pair of cut-off shorts and hold them in the air. “What does it look like I’m doing? Helping you pack…and also wondering why you have a pair of booty shorts in the pile of clothes you’re packing for winter break?”
She laughs and snatches them from me. “The temperature is supposed to be in the 70’s all next week in Charlotte.”
I roll my eyes and toss them in her suitcase. She instantly snatches them up like I offended her, and then neatly folds them to fit perfectly in her overpacked luggage.
“Since you’re here…grab me the other bag I have to fill up that’s by the closet.”
“You have more stuff you’re taking?”
“Rule number one, Mason. Never ask a girl about how much she’s packing…it’s all very, very necessary.”
I walk over to the closet and grab her ridiculously bright pink luggage that could easily fit the rest of this dorm room in it, and walk back over to her.
“Mason…did you shower last night?”
I put my hand over my chest, acting offended. “Do I stink?”
She laughs. “No, you just smell like the liquor from last night still. Geez, it must be coming out of your pores. I think you drank enough for everyone there, all by yourself.”
It’s definitely the fresh alcohol she’s smelling, but I let her think what she wants. Makes me look less like a loser.
“Excuse me for celebrating,” I tease.
She gives me a knowing look.
“Okay, fine. Excuse me for trying to cope with having to go spend the next four to five weeks with the devil himself.”
“Yeah…I’m…sorry about your dad,” she offers, getting serious.
Little does she know I’m a professional steerer awayer from seriousness.
“It is what it is. I’m a big boy. Come on. Let’s finish getting you packed.”
I help her squeeze everything she owns into her suitcase before going to leave.
When we’re standing at her door, I pull her in for another hug because that last one felt too good, and it’s already something I know I’ll miss while she’s away.
“Say hello to Mama Edwards for me…and tell Tyler I said he better take care of you over the break and get you back to us in one happy piece.”