Page 90 of Escape Velocity
Callum grunts and clenches his fists as he paces around Mason’s dorm room.
Callum rubs his face. “Those articles you’re writing about me are driving himnuts. I just know it. I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything to your parents yet.”
Mason fights back a smile. It’s petty, but the reality of a grown man having a breakdown over his writing is giving Mason a sick rush of glee.
“Maybe I should write about your dad in one of my articles.”
Callum screeches his pacing to a stop and widens his eyes at Mason. “You’re not serious, are you?”
Mason shakes his head. “No. But it would be amusing.”
“And a surefire way of getting both of us beat up,” Callum says, shaking his head.
Mason stands up from his bed and grabs Callum’s hand.
Callum stops pacing and relaxes at Mason’s touch.
Mason smiles and holds Callum’s face in his hands. “You killed it out there. I’m gonna write you the best article you’ve ever read.”
Callum smiles and grabs Mason’s hands softly, takes one and kisses the inside of his palm.
“I couldn’t ask for anything better. Just reading your words cheering me on?—”
Callum bites his lip. “I’ve re-read your articles hundreds of times.”
Callum blushes as he looks away from Mason, likely not anticipating saying that to Mason.
Mason quirks an eyebrow “You have?”
Callum nods sheepishly. “I… might read them to help me go to sleep.”
Mason snorts. “No way.”
Callum purses his lips and nods wordlessly.
Mason wants to be happy about it, but he thinks about the implication of what Callum’s saying instead.
Are Mason’s words specifically more influential, or does Callum simply not have enough of a support system telling him that he’s doing well?
Having an abusive father is bound to make Callum’s self-hatred scream louder than any compliment or word of encouragement anyone throws his way.
“You really don’t have enough of a support system, do you?” Mason says, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, trying to search Callum’s face.
Callum twists his mouth and sighs, taking his hands off Mason’s arms.
Mason takes his hands off Callum’s face and just holds his hands instead, brushing his thumb lightly on Callum’s palm.
“I—I can’t really…”
“I’m here to listen, Cal.”
Callum nods and rubs his cheeks as he mulls over what to say.
“It’s silly. It’s actually stupid how my mind works sometimes.”
Mason stands still, waiting for Callum to continue. He wishes he could tell Callum that he doesn’t sound stupid or silly. But Mason figures it wouldn’t matter. If Callum’s been told so many times that he’s a failure, and that he’s a screw-up, then it’s likely all he ever thinks about.
“I could have a team of people around me, telling me twenty-four seven how much they like me. How cool I am. How much of a hard worker I am. How hot I am. But none of it ever matters.”
