Page 4 of Escape Velocity
He is a big, important, hotshot football player after all.
Mason tightens his lips, something that he always does when he’s around Callum, but for some reason he always manages to say something inflammatory to him despite his best efforts.
“Don’t ask stupid questions, and maybe you won’t get stupid answers,” Mason retorts.
Callum clenches his jaw and cracks his knuckles. Mason does the same.
It’s like they’re both cowboys at a showdown at noon. And there isn’t enough room on campus for the both of them.
Callum coughs. “Don’t you think now that we’ve gotten out of high school that you could be a bit more, I don’t know… mature? I was just trying to say ‘hi’ and you’re already jumping down my throat.”
A laugh bubbles out of Mason’s mouth. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, but the audacity of Callum, the guy who disappeared from his life and ignored him for years without so much of an apology, askinghimto be mature.
“You do know high school was only three months ago for me, right? It’s not like you’ve reached your nirvana and become a new and improved person in the year since you graduated from it yourself,” Mason says, folding his arms over his chest.
Callum bobs his head from side to side. “Some things are the same, sure. You’re still geeking out over projectiles and calculus. I’m still playing football, but I’m probably going to make millions in doing it when I go pro, so what does it matter what’s the same and what’s different?”
Mason clenches his fists underneath his arms. He wants to get out of here. He’s supposed to be meeting Jenna. He’ssupposed to finish his problem sets. He’s supposed to try to get on the school newspaper.
He has better things to do than spar with Callum Brown.
He’s always unwaveringly focused. Except when it comes to Callum fucking Brown.
“Think that over before we see each other next, Fanning. Cause I’m sure we’ll run into each other again,” Callum says, putting his helmet back on with a cocky smirk on his face, thinking that he won whatever sparring match they just had, and runs off back onto the field.
Everything is a competition for them, and they measure their success in how they get one over on each other. It’s always that way.
There used to be a time when Mason appreciated Callum as a reprieve. But those days are long gone.
They thought they would rule the world together. They had the same passion and the same guts to get what they wanted.
To be the first in line at recess. To be the last one standing in dodgeball. To be the first to finish their assigned reading. To capture the flag in gym class.
They had different interests, but they shared that drive and fervor that probably allowed them to end up at the same school they were at now, trading barbs.
Something changed in high school. Allies became competitors. Friends turned into enemies. Sure, it seemed dramatic, but that’s how it felt.
Instead of appreciating the passion both boys had, they had to use it against each other.
They started hating how much the other succeeded. Prestige became more important to them than their friendship.
Callum memorized girls’ numbers. Mason memorized kinematic equations.
Callum scored every touchdown. Mason calculated Z-scores.
Callum won championship trophies. Mason got honor roll.
They both won, they both lost. Mason was physics. Callum was football.
But one thing that they never failed to make certain was that one didn’t lose over the other. They never crossed paths. Their interests made sure of that.
Their interactions were always measured in terms of winning or losing.
Mason hates how much he cares about what Callum thinks.
Mason sighs and spins on his heel, looking back at the girls on the bench, who quickly focus their gazes back on the field, pretending like they hadn’t just been eavesdropping on their entire exchange.
Great, he’s already going to have people gossiping about him, and it has to involve Callum Brown, star quarterback of the perfect Montgomery Hornets.
