Page 55 of Most Valuable Player
He gasps the words out like he’s been clinging to them.
I pause, my lips hovering at the arch of his neck. “What?” I whisper.
He shivers as my breath unfurls against his skin. “It’s because of my face,” he says, and suddenly, he’s pushing, his fingers digging into my chest. “It’s not because you like…It’s not because I’m actually…”
I want so desperately to hold on to him, to make him clarify his thoughts, but I can’t keep him hostage like this. So I pull my arms away, and he immediately scrambles out of my lap, stumbling to his feet.
“I should go,” he says, gazing toward the staircase leading out of the basement.
The last several seconds have happened so fast I can barely keep up with them. I’ve messed something up, though, so I sputter out, “Sorry.”
“Huh? No, it’s fine. Uh.” Mason’s eyes flick around with unease before returning to the stairs. The sudden, weak tremor in his arms furthers my guilt. I want to apologize again for assuming his body language meant he was on board with what happened. I should’ve confirmed with him verbally before…yeah.
He’s already lunging up the stairs to escape me.
I drive him home in silence. I’m not sure what to say. I screwed up. Badly.
When I return home and start wiping down the exercise equipment, the jewelry bowl shimmers in the corner of my eye.
He left his aquamarine necklace.
Journal #6—October 31
Happy Halloween. I was invited to a party today but meh, it’s just a bunch of kids acting like dicks, and he doesn’t like when I go out on my own. I’ll probably stay home.
We got in another fight. I told him I went to a bonfire where there was alcohol and he said I shouldn’t go to places like that, especially since I still can’t remember him saying he loved me. It just shows I can’t handle my liquor.
Besides, he thinks some kids would take advantage of me. He’s always saying people love to stare at me nowadays, and it makes him feel protective. I appreciate him looking out for me. Though, I wish he’d stop throwing out my clothes. I caught him tossing some of my favorite leggings the other day because apparently they make me look more “tempting.” I’m not sure what he means. My ass is flatter than paper.
He’s struggling this semester at college. I think he’s lonely.
I started learning how to play the guitar. Mom has an old one in the basement from when she tried playing in some garage indie band. I tried playing him a song when he came home last weekend but was so nervous I messed up several times. He made a good point that it’s pretty late for me to learn a new instrument anyway. Maybe I’ll get bored and go back one day.
It was kind of fun.
Journal #7—April 2
Oh. My. God. I. AM. ENGAGED.
The ring is so beautiful. I can’t stop staring. He took me to the park for the most romantic picnic for my sixteenth birthday a couple weeks ago (it was cold as shit). Then we went back to his house and almost didn’t make it to his bedroom, he was so excited. I did a ton of research and think I did okay? He kind of dodged the question.
I love him so much it’s gross. Mom is excited. I’ve never seen her light up like that. Dad was weird about it but he’ll get over it once I’m eighteen. It’s not like we’re jumping down the aisle tomorrow. First he has to graduate, then he’ll buy a house.
Sometimes I spend weekends up at college with him. I can’t wait until the day I get to wake up beside him and don’t have to leave.
Nobody understands me like he does. He thinks it may be because I don’t have an easy personality to work off. He said there’s nothing wrong with that, though, since we balance each other out. As long as he’s with me, I’m okay around others.
He doesn’t mind my personality. Even if I’m unlikable or boring, he’s there for me. Sometimes I wonder if I deserve someone like him. I’m so happy he chose me. He could have anyone he wants, but I’m the one he put the ring on? Wild.
We’ll keep it a secret until I’m out of high school.
Chapter Seventeen
Mason
Because you should do things that make you happy, even if you think you’re bad at them.
I smirk at the watercolor picture I’ve been doodling, Cameron’s earnest words humming in my ears. I think it looks okay. Or I’m too distracted thinking about him to notice the flaws. The kindness hidden in his words. The way his eyes sparkle like pools of tropical water tinged a pleasant green. The way the muscles flex in his shoulders, the way his hand sprawled against the back of my neck last night, so big but so gentle and careful.
