Page 105 of Sapphire Spring

“Why did I hold on to him, you mean?”

Naser shrugged, studying the fingers he’d clasped in hislap.

Mason sat up, feeling fresh tension around every achinginjury. “You just said what he did to you wasn’t my fault. Now it sounds likeyou’re accusing me of something.”

“I’m just asking why you were so ready to kill your bestfriend.”

“For you. I did all of that for you. You’re the one whostood in my kitchen yesterday and lectured me on how you didn’t want to beanybody’s secret.”

Naser shot to his feet. “When the time comes, you said.Those were your words, Mason. When the time comes. And I agreed and said let’snot rush. Let’s do it on our own schedule and no oneelse’s,and that included Chadwick Fucking Brody.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention him specifically, but I havetrouble saying his name, okay? I mean, you just made the decision for both ofus. He blares the horn and you’re suddenly coming out to him in the foyer andshoving me in his face. Even if you didn’t know what he did to me that day, youknew about everything else. But you didn’t stop to ask yourself if I wanted toever lay eyes on him again.

“I swear, Mason, sometimes it’s like you woke up one day andsuddenly decided you want this life that you’ve spent no time building, and nowI’m this accessory you’re tugging along on your journey of recovery.”

Mason shot to his feet. “That’s not fair! You know that’snot how I see you. You know how I’ve always—”

“Always?Mason! Youhave tostop. Youhave tostop talking about high school likewe had this great long-distance romance. Because that’s notreallyhowit played for me, okay? You may have had all these big, secretfeelings while you lived the life of a golden boy. But I had my room, and MathClub, and one afternoon behind the bleachers with your best friend. There’s howyou see me and then there’s how well you know me, and you’ve been getting toknow me for a week, Mason. A week, that’s all, and this is where we are.”

Naser gestured to the ruined living room around them, butMason couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the debris. He didn’t need to.

“What are you saying?” Mason asked. “Are you…are youendingthis?”

Naser shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

Mason rose to his feet. “I did this foryou. I didthat to him because of what he did to you.”

“There’s no wayall ofthat angerwas because of me, Mason. You’ve been waiting to do that to him for years. Idon’t know why you haven’t before now, and it’s not for me to figure out. Butwhat it feels like is that you dragged me downstairs and threw me in his facebecause you thought it would get him out of your life forever. And that’s nothow I want to be treated by myboyfriend.”

Naser said the wordboyfriendwith as much hate asMason’s father said the wordfag, and suddenly he wasdizzyand his breaths were shallow.He’d made itsound as if Mason had been a fool to apply the label at all. As if Mason couldnever measure up to the title in Naser’s world.

“Everything I’ve done since I saw you again has been aboutwanting to make things right with you. Everything, Naser.”

“Everything you’ve done has been about wanting to feelbetter about who you were by fucking me.”

The words hurt worse than any of his best friend’s blows.

“Well, sorry. Guess I misread the signals when you put myfoot on yourdamnthroat, Prancer.”

Naser flinched from head to toe this time, took a step back,then raised his chin as if he thought Mason might be prepared to strike him—physically,this time—and he was prepared to accept the blow. His eyes were hooded,distant. He wasn’t seeing the Mason of right now. He was seeing the Mason often years ago. Or worse, he was deciding they were the same person after all.And Mason had just given him permission to—with a single word.

“Nas.”

Naser turned his back and started for the door.

“Nas…”

He didn’t slam the door, which somehow made it worse. Thequiet click made for a more determined and thoughtful end, and then Naser wasgone, having left the house as easily and quietly as if he were following apreordained schedule of which Mason should have beenwell aware.

“Nas!”

The Volvo’s engine answered.

Mason’s vision wobbled, the destruction surrounding him veiledby tears. He felt the chair’s seat touch his butt before he realized he’d sunkinto it. And then his face was in his hands, and he was hearing a voice in hishead he didn’t quite recognize. It sounded small and quiet and reasonable.

Just one,it said,just one drink. That’s all.Just one.

Another Mason got behind the wheel of his car, another Masondrove to the gas station closest to his house and nodded at the night clerkbehind the counter. They’d never said much to each other, but it had been twoweeks since Mason had stopped off to grab some vodka bottles, so the clerklooked up from his magazine to indicate his version of surprise—a raisedeyebrow and a longer nod than usual.

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