“Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved!

That is the only reality in this world.”

~ Leo Tolstoy

 

It’s been one week. One week since Mason Knight barged in and interrupted my quiet little world. I liked my little bubble where I worked on my own, didn’t have to rely on a partner for a grade in my classes, when people didn’t talk to me about the new guy at school. I liked the quiet that came with being a pariah. The worst part of it all is, the bad bits have gotten worse. Girls are the worst creatures ever created, I swear to God.

Some girls hid my clothes during gym class yesterday; I found them soaking wet in a shower cubicle. Astounding – just because the new guy speaks to me in class where he HAS to. He’s quiet other than that, he seems to keep to himself, even though he draws people towards him without trying. He has this magnetism people just can’t resist, and they follow him like a lost flock. And so, because he speaks to me, I get punished.

I’m currently hiding in a locked stall in the girls’ room, trying to get some peace and quiet during lunch. Seat cover down, kindle out, feet up, door locked. It’s not the perfect setting, but it’s a whole lot better than out there. People discovered my spot in the library and kept interrupting my lunch to ask if I could pass on their number to Mason. I DON’T EVEN KNOW THE GUY! I lost it at the last girl and word vomited all over her before storming off and ending up here. The warning bell rings, disturbing my quiet time and I can’t help the exaggerated sigh that escapes me. Just four more hours and I’m free. Just two more periods then I can go home and have a long hot bubble bath. But first, class.

I gather up my stuff and pop it into my shoulder bag before heading towards Math, which I survive unscathed. Last but not least, I have English, just reaching my chair as the final bell rings. I slide into the chair next to Mason before unpacking my text books and notepad, and arranging my pens, just so, on the table.

“Hey,” I say with a small smile and a glance in his direction. What? Just because I hate the repercussions of being his table buddy doesn’t mean I’m immune to him. The guy is drop dead. Like, move over RPatz, Alex Pettyfer – take a step back, Mason Knight is in the house. He smiles at me and holy crap, I’ve not seen him smile before, not even a smirk. Ladies and gentlemen, my brain has just melted. He’s hot when he’s all broody, but smiling? I think my heart just turned to dust.

I shake my head a little before turning towards Mr. Perry, our teacher, who is groaning on about the philosophies of life.

“What would you do if you were offered everything you ever dreamed of but the cost was unthinkable? Would you pay that cost? What if it was to save a friend or a loved one? Would that make it different?”

I think about it for a minute, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something that bad. I mean, yes, I’d like to know who my family are, why they left me, but would I do something insane for it, I don’t think so. And other than Monica, I don’t really have people – so the second part doesn’t really apply.

Sneaking a glance at Mason, he looks deep in thought, almost sad. I look away before he can catch me watching him and focus back on Mr. Perry, who is handing out copies of a selection of snipping’s from various literature. He’s still rambling, but I zone out, doodling on my notebook. That is until I hear Mason pipe up next to me. I turn to look at him and he’s leant back in his chair, looking as if he owns the room.

“My favorite book, Mr. Perry? Well that’s not a simple choice – the selection is too great,” Mason says with a smile. I can’t tell if he is serious or not.

“Well, Mr. Knight, if you are as versed as you say, maybe you can delight us all with a few lines from one of your favorites,” Mr. Perry challenges.

He’s stood at the front of the room, leaning back on his desk with his arms crossed. I have obviously missed something. Mason clears his throat before speaking.

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists... it is real... it is possible... it's yours." He speaks with such passion; the whole room is hanging on his every word. The bell rings drawing me out of my zombie like daze.

“From Ayn Rand’s, Atlas Shrugged – Very well, Mr. Knight,” he says, obviously impressed. “I expect you all to read your handouts before next class, we will be discussing them; and I will know if you didn’t read it properly,” he shouts as the class gathers their books.

Slinging my bag onto my shoulder, I move forward without looking up and walk straight into someone. I look up to see Mason looking down at me, his hands on my arms, keeping me upright. Oh, my God!

“Steady there, tiger. You don’t want to fall down on that pretty ass of yours.” He almost growls the words; his voice is so gravelly. I can’t place his accent, but he’s obviously not from around here.

I blush. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine, having you pushed up against me really isn’t a hardship.” He smirks and I feel the heat rise from my neck to my hairline. No one has ever spoken to me like this, and I’m not sure whether to say thank you or slap him, so I settle with blushing and running away. Real mature way of handling that, Erin! Super cool. I resist physically face-palming as I scurry to my locker, hiding my face in there, hoping to God that no-one else witnessed my epic fail.

“Well, if it isn’t the comeback kid.” Looking up, I see Mason leaning against the locker next to mine. He’s smiling at me again, and EVERYONE is looking. Kill me now.

“Awh, come on tiger, you can’t ignore me after you’ve already rejected me today already. My poor little ego couldn’t take it.”

“I doubt your ego is little; I’m pretty sure it can take a few hits,” I blurt out before going wide-eyed. Stuffing my books into my bag, I scramble to get away from him before I say anything else. Tucking tail, I turn with the intention of sprinting towards the main exit, and away from school. I make it as far as the front steps, of course I’m not home free, why would that ever possibly happen to me? I come face to face with the hit squad. Delightful.

“Well, well, well,” Tegan snarls. “Looks like little, orphan Annie made a friend. Tell me, how did someone like you end up friends with someone like him?”

“He is not my friend,” I deny. “We sit together in lesson: we talk. That’s all of it.”

“It better be. We wouldn’t want you ruining his life, too. You’ve done enough of that.”

Her little band of followers’ nod like the bobble heads they are. I take a deep breath, pull my bag strap up and walk away from them. Two, maybe four, steps away, I feel the impact of ice cold and wet. I reach up to the back of my head to the chorus of giggles coming from behind me. Blue slushie; it’s in my hair and dripping down my neck; down the back of my leather jacket.

“Are you serious?” a voice shouts from behind me. “Stupid, fucking girls,” he growls. I turn and see Mason striding towards me, taking off his t-shirt. He looks down at me before dabbing the back of my head with the soft cotton, soaking up some of the ice-cold drink.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

I nod slowly, still in shock from the slushie shower. The fact he’s standing half-naked in front of me, looking like some sort of chiseled marble statue of a god! He’s all lean muscle, and possibly, the walking definition of washboard abs. I catch a peak of the ink on his back and chest, it just makes him seem like… more. These might be the reason for some of my lack of words… might. His t-shirts showed that he was ripped, but this, this is something different all together.

“Th-thank you. I’ll be good, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” I manage to say, trying not to stare.

“Eyes up here, tiger,” He chuckles and I blush again. I see the hit squad looking at us in shock. Evan is stood there, laughing into Tegan’s hair and I feel tears sting my eyes.

“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at my shoes. He reaches under my chin with his forefinger, bringing my eyes back up to his.

“Don’t hide from me, there’s no need,” he says quietly.

Tires screech and there is loud, obnoxious music, and even louder shouting. I turn to see a low riding, old blue Camaro, rusted in spots but nothing major, filled with 3 guys who all look a little rough around the edges.

“Mason! Come on man, put your fucking clothes on, bro!” One voice yells. The rest laugh at him.

“Shut your face Rico,” Mason yells back.

“Oooooo, Mason’s got a girlfriend.” Another laughs, making kissy noises.

I roll my eyes and clear my throat catching Masons attention. “So, I’m just going to go. Thanks again.”

“No sweat. Anytime. Have a good night, tiger,” he says with a smile.

“My name’s Erin,” I say, trying to hold in my frustration at being called tiger.

“Oh, I know, tiger.” He smirks and pulls on his wet, now slightly blue spotted t-shirt before heading to his friends in the car.

This year is going to be different, that’s for sure.