51. Mason #2
I take the bottle and drink straight from it, fast and desperate, like I’m racing against the clock. The burn hits my throat, my chest, my stomach—it’s euphoric in a way I wasn’t expecting.
Like coming home.
The home is beautiful. The front door is grand. The entire way is gorgeous, and the kitchen is magnificent—filled to the brim with liquid drugs.
Sadly, the rest of the house is a complete disaster—it’s full of shame, and feels achingly familiar.
I thought I would have more time to enjoy the good part of this. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.
So I drink more—drown out the shame, drown out the regret, drown out the guilt.
You can’t hate yourself if you don’t even know who you are.
I finish as much as I can stomach before walking over to the sink and trying to rinse out my mouth. I grab an energy drink from the fridge on the way back upstairs, cracking it open and swishing some in my mouth, hoping it’ll mask some of the smell.
Back in the room, I try to avoid Simone as she steps out of the bathroom in just a towel.
All I want to do is rip that thing off her and pull her close to me, but I need to focus on getting into that bathroom right now. I can’t be anywhere near her like this.
I shower like it’ll wash away what I did. I brush my teeth four times and scrub my tongue until it’s raw. I rinse with half the bottle of mouthwash. And I spray cologne into my shirt, hair, and neck like it’ll cover up the smell of failing.
Looking in the mirror, all I see is a coward.
And then all I see is nothing.
The room spins a little before I get my balance back, and I try to pull myself together.
I put on the best mask I have, and let the alcohol start telling me everything I want to hear.
You’re good now.
You feel better.
You can handle this now.
No one will even know.
It’ll be like it never even happened.
You could do this whenever you wanted, and no one would know.
I walk back out of the bathroom, grabbing my bag, checking the side pocket for the pack of gum I keep there.
Simone is sitting on my bed, scrolling on her phone, looking absolutely beautiful in her pink blazer and matching skirt.
She looks so put together.
She is so put together.
I’ll never understand why someone as perfect as her even looks in my fucked up direction. But I promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep her here.
I tried staying away, and it was torture.
I know I screwed up. I get it. But she doesn’t have to know. I’d rather her hold onto the small amount of good she still sees in me.
“Ready?”
Simone looks up from her phone, smiling. “Yeah. Are you?”
“No. But what choice do I have?”
She stands up, walking over to me, and kisses me on the cheek. “You’ve got this. You’re a better man than he’ll ever be. Remember that.”
I let her words sink in, but don’t say anything back. I just want to hold them without ruining them. I want them to be true.
“Let me walk you over to the Gamma house,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head.
Once I’m back at the Sig house, the parents have already started to arrive.
We’ve been cleaning this house for the past two weeks, preparing for this. All the guys are showing their parents around, introducing them to the guys, and making small talk with the other parents.
I’m pulled into several introductions and getting loosened up when I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“There he is.”
I stiffen but don’t pull away.
I hate how I instantly feel like a little boy in his presence. Like I’m back to being seven years old again and bracing for his storm each time he comes home.
“You’re here,” is all I say, moving out of his touch to face him.
The grin on his face is not only foreign but…unnerving.
“That’s how you greet your old man?” he asks, pulling me into a hug.
I almost throw up at the contact.
I don’t know if it’s the amount of alcohol in my system coming back up or the repulsion from his touch.
This is the first time in my entire life that he’s ever hugged me.
And it’s for show.
I force a smile to cover the way I’m holding back a gag. “Hey.”
“Well,” he says in the fakest cheerful voice I’ve ever heard from him. “Show me around. I didn’t get to come last year, so this time around, you gotta really give me the full experience.”
My brows knit in confusion, and my nose almost scrunches up from being so taken aback.
“Um, yeah,” I say warily. “Sure. Come on.”
As we start walking through the house, my dad puts his hand back on my shoulder and leans in, lowering his voice just for me. “Put a smile on your face, and fix whatever is stuck up your ass. Got it?”
I clench my teeth, breathing through the annoyance. “Yes, sir.”
Someone shoot me now. Please.
The rest of the day drags with every minute I’m stuck around him. Every conversation we have with the other guys and their parents seems lighthearted on the outside, but the jabs he slides in every chance he gets are just for me.
Who would have thought my biggest bully in life would be my own father?
By the time all the parents leave and head back to their hotels, I’ve been called every name in the book, I’ve been made to feel small in every way compared to him, and I’ve had to listen to him every time he pulls me aside to tell me what I’m doing wrong.
I’m mentally over this day, and I just want a drink.
While everyone is hanging out in the backyard, I grab several bottles from the kitchen and take them upstairs.
I pull out my phone and text Simone as soon as I sit down on my bed.
Mason: How was today with your parents?
I tuck two of the bottles down beside my bed—hidden from view—and open the one in my hand. It’s warm as it slides down my throat. And when it hits my stomach, the sensation blooms outward, rushing through my entire body with relief.
My phone buzzes, and I place the bottle on the bedside table to grab my phone.
Simone: It was really good. My dad actually seemed interested in my life here. It was kind of amazing
I smile, loving that for her.
The bottle ends up back in my hand quickly, though, needing to stop the pain that’s also creeping in from her text.
I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself.
This isn’t about what you don’t have. Just be happy for her.
And I am.
But I’m also mad.
A small, bitter laugh escapes me in the quiet room.
Why does it even matter? Why does having one person’s love and attention in life matter that much? Why should I even care?
What is it about our makeup that is driven by our parents’ approval and love?
I don’t want it. I don’t want to deal with it anymore. I’ve spent twenty years looking for approval from a man I hate.
Another text comes through.
Simone: I hope your day was good. Please tell me he didn’t ruin it too badly
I shoot back a quick text.
Mason: Ruining it is such an understatement
Simone: Want me to come over? Wanna talk about it?
Shame hits me. The fear of her coming here right now makes me so angry with myself.
I can’t have her around right now, even if she is the only one I want with me.
Mason: I’m just going to call it a night early, actually. I’ll see you tomorrow at the campus tour
Simone: You sure? Are you okay?
Mason: I’m okay. Just need a mental reset, that’s all
I keep drinking as I watch the bubbles on my phone pop up.
Simone: You’re going to meet my parents tomorrow. OMG
That makes me both smile and freak out a little at the same time.
No, we’re not dating or anything, and she won’t be introducing me to her parents as anything more than a friend, but…it feels important. I don’t want to fuck it up. I want them to like me.
Hell, I want everyone to like me. That’s my problem.
I type back, pushing the nervous thoughts aside.
Mason: I’m excited to meet the creators of the most perfect girl in the world
Simone: You’re making me blush
Mason: I wish I could see
Simone: This feels pretty big, doesn’t it? Or am I the only one freaking out?
I laugh, typing back.
Mason: Why are you freaking out?
Simone: Cause…I don’t know. My parents have only ever been introduced to one other guy in my life
I swallow my annoyance, thinking about her and Tyler, ignoring the way thinking about her with anyone else makes me irrationally angry.
The thought of anyone else just touching her makes my skin crawl.
Mason: I thought I was just a friend. What’s there to freak out about?
Simone: Is that all we are?
My stomach flips.
It’s embarrassing how much I want everything between us to be real.
Mason: Definitely not to me pretty girl
Simone: Good
Mason: So what am I getting introduced as? Fuck buddy? Sexy man you’re always dreaming about? Future husband maybe?
She takes longer to reply this time, and it makes me feel suddenly embarrassed for saying that.
Simone: Vetoing the first two for sure. The last one…kinda has a ring to it
I bite my lip, smirking at the phone.
Mason: Simone Sinclair, badass lawyer, and wife to an extremely lucky man
Simone: You’re making me smile so much that my mom and Lydia are asking what I’m cheesing at on my phone
Mason: What did you tell them?
Simone: That I was watching cat videos of course
Mason: The truth shall set you free
Simone: Get some sleep
I shake my head, laughing at her avoidance.
Mason: Goodnight pretty girl
Simone: Goodnight playboy
Simone: I mean, future husband
Mason: Much better
Even though I spend the rest of the night draining a bottle dry, a part of me is blissfully distracted, happily swimming in the thoughts of a girl who makes everything better.