Page 14 of Escape Velocity
He packs his things in his bag and walks to the dining hall. He isn’t going to finish any more problems with his mind getting distracted by the football players.
He doesn’t have to walk far; the dining hall is only one building over from the library.
He passes by groups of people his age sitting on blankets outside, their hands pressed behind them on the ground, laughing and talking to each other like normal, socially adjusted people.
Try as he might, Mason can’t be like them. All he knows is studying, reading, and homework.
He wonders what his life would be like if he stops the fear-based studying and goes out to a party for once. He wonders if he would still have ended up at Montgomery, sitting on the picnic blankets and conversing with “like-minded individuals” if he hadn’t felt like he had to achieve anything and everything academic.
He clears his throat and blinks rapidly, looking away from the group and makes his way into the dining hall, where he notices Jenna sitting at one of the tables, phone in her hand, scrolling.
Mason smirks and stands behind her.
“Doom scrolling?” he says, and she jumps and throws her phone down on the table as she yelps. A few heads look over at them, and Mason giggles as they give Jenna odd looks.
Mason sits down next to her primly, smiling to himself while Jenna’s face reddens.
“I hate you. I hate you. Ihateyou,” she says in rapid succession.
Mason shrugs innocently. “I was just trying to make myself known.”
“Well maybe you should try a little less next time,” Jenna says through gritted teeth.
“Anyway, did you get a look at the food yet?” Mason asks, craning his neck to look over at the menu. He’s excited to see what they have, since his parents had paid for a semester pass, so he can eat whatever and however much he wants.
“No, I was waiting foryoubecause I was being considerate,” she says mockingly.
“Alright well, let’s not waste any more time then,” Mason says, putting his hands on her shoulders and shaking her.
It’s so easy to rile Jenna up, and whenever he has the chance, he takes it. She pretends she hates it, but deep down Mason knows she loves it.
They wait in line for what feels like an hour, get their food, and sit down.
“You know, I’m really excited for tomorrow, actually,” Jenna says in between forking fries into her mouth.
Mason takes a sip of his soda. “I’m not.”
Jenna eyes him suspiciously. “You really hate football that much?”
Mason nods, but he’s lying. There’s a much worse reason why he doesn’t want to go.
“Or maybe you just hate Callum Brown that much.”
Mason freezes.
“I do not.”
“You do too.”
He stares daggers at her. She loves to push him, and most of the time it’s fine, but anything beginning and ending with the subject of Callum is too far with her.
“Sorry I don’t want to cheer on my former best friend who abandoned me.”
Jenna sighs. “Mason, come on?—”
“Jenna? Jenna Winston?” a deep, unfortunately familiar voice calls from behind them.
He knows that voice. He knows that stupid, low timbre voice. It’s the second time he’s heard it in the past hour.
