Page 31 of Sapphire Spring

Naser crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay. Well, youdidn’t. Apologize, I mean.”

Mason opened the door to the fridge. “You want something todrink?”

“You clearly do.”

“Is thatano?”

“Is this an apology?”

“Well, you don’t really seem receptive to one right now, soI figured I wouldn’t bother.”

“I see.SoI’m supposed to makethis easier for you.”

“I mean it was over a decade ago, right? I don’t know. Maybelighten up a little bit.” He could hear squealing brakes in his head. He wasn’tsure exactly how one was supposed to do this, but he was pretty sure thiswasn’t it. The sight of a frosty beer bottle inches from his hand banished allother thoughts. Mason pulled out the Corona and popped the cap off against theedge of the counter with the side of one fist. The first swallow swept throughhim with comforting strength. Then he saw the stony, startled expression of theman a few feet away. Mason had done this very thing so many times it wasroutine, but Naser’s silent reaction drove home the reality of it. Not out ofbed ten minutes and already hitting the sauce.

He had a problem, a serious problem.

Suddenly, the bottle felt scalding to the touch. He set iton the counter.

“Is this how you lighten up?” Naser asked. “Corona in themorning?”

“Isn’t everyone kind of a dick in high school?”

“Sothe apology has become ajustification.”

“I did try to keep them under control, you know.”

Dark eyebrows rose, his upper lip crooked in tandem. Hewasn’t sneering at him, but he wanted to, that was clear. “How?” Naser finallyasked.

“I made a rule. No racist stuff.”

Naser’s face turned to stone. “Oh, excellent. I’ll get you acookie.”

Mason wanted to die. Again. “I guess I shouldn’t ask forcredit for that.”

“You most certainly should not.”

“I’m not who I used to be is what I’m saying.”

Naser lowered his eyes. “I’m going to go. Enjoy yourbreakfast. It’s better with a lime.”

“Nas, please.”

Naser spun. “Don’t call me that. My family calls me that. Myfriends call me that.”

Mason held up his hands. “I’m trying here.”

“If this is the best you can do, maybe take a break.” Naserstarted to leave again.

“You know, you’re really being hostile and aggressive, andI’m just trying to—”

Naser spun. “Okay, reality check, Brené Brown. I don’t oweyou anything. I didn’t track you down. I didn’t stalk you at your sister’s eventand then fall in the pool drunk. And I didn’t ask for an apology. Even a lousyone. Because I don’t want to talk about any of this. Ever.”

“You did bring my phone back. I mean, you could have hadFareena do it.”

“You’ll be lucky if Fareena ever wants to lay eyes on youagain.”

“Define luck. Have you dated Fareena? I felt like a pursewith a penis.”

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