Page 24 of Escape Velocity
“Thank you.”
“For someone with the humor of a seven-year-old.”
Mason smiles in annoyance.
Callum cracks his knuckles and stares down at Mason with a serious face, like he wants to say something more but is holding himself back.
Mason’s face burns under Callum’s scrutiny and folds his arms even further. To a bystander it looks like he’s trying to keep himself warm like he’s standing in sub-zero temperatures.
“What was the funniest thing they said…” Mason says, trying to change the subject back, even though he knows what Callum will say. At least he got the upper hand.
Callum stares at Mason expectantly. “That they told me who wrote it. Guess who?”
Mason shuffles his feet and looks back at the ground as his face burns more. “Someone who’s probably a bit mentally unstable?”
Callum shrugs. “Maybe. But I don’t really care. It made me feel… good,” Callum says, his tone softening.
Mason quickly looks back up, and Callum is looking at him with this face that looks like he’s trying to understand Mason but can’t come up with a solid answer.
He’s probably wondering how Mason can hate him so much and avoid him for years only to gush about him for an entire thousand-word article. Mason’s wondering the same thing himself.
Mason sighs and tries to maintain Callum’s gaze. “Look, I really needed to get into the paper and that was what they had me write?—”
Callum holds out his hands in the air. “You know, you don’t have to pretend that you were playing me up. I could tell by the way you write that it’s genuine. I don’t want to hear you lie about how you were doing what they asked of you or that you only did it to get on the paper. I won’t believe you if you do.”
Mason’s folded arms fall to his sides. Callum just read him like a book.
He’s ten steps ahead of Mason, like any good quarterback would be, predicting exactly what he was planning on saying.
Callum’s eyebrows are downturned now, like he’sexpecting Mason to fight him back on it, but he isn’t going to.
Mason hates that he’s right.
Maybe he’s tapping into all the old feelings he used to have for Callum. He’s buried them ever since that day in the cafeteria and now that he has a positive place to put them, it’s all bursting out of him.
Mason shrugs and tries to hide the smile creeping onto his face. “You play really well… I have to admit.”
Callum smirks. “Well, I didn’t get into Montgomery on scholarship for nothing.”
Mason purses his lips. He feels stupid admitting that Callum’s actually a good player. Of course he is. He just hates having to admit it and sound like every other student or football fan. “I know. I just… never went to a game in high school. I had?—”
“Better things to do than watching me throw a ball. I get it. Your nose was always in a book.”
Mason almost thinks it’s a disparaging remark, but it isn’t. Callum’s tone is more matter of fact rather than irritated. A strong contrast from how he usually refers to Mason’s proclivity for science.
“And that’s what got me into Montgomery as well, Brown. I know that you always hated that about me,” Mason says, now crossing his arms and looking down at the ground, putting his defenses back up on instinct.
There isn’t any fight in his voice, only insecurity. He feels much more vulnerable now, and he doesn’t know why. He even responded to Callum’s observation with defensiveness.
Callum shakes his head. “Ineverhated how smart you were or how much you read. I don’t get why you think that.”
Mason scoffs. He doesn’t know how Callum can be serious and pretend that high school wasn’t a part of their history. “I saw the eye rolls. I saw how you let your football friends talk about me and make fun of me.”
Callum’s eyes lower, and he blinks rapidly, like he’s been caught and is guilty of exactly what Mason is accusing him of.
Students begin to file out of the nearby classroom, filling the hallway with students running for the doors.
“Mason. Inever?—”
