During the wake, I stayed outside hiding in the tree house Alec had built for the other kids. Guy brought out a bunch of food and we ate and talked until everyone left. That night, he snuck downstairs to the couch where I slept before I had a room. We talked half the night. Like, really talked. He asked me questions that I had never been asked before. Guy wanted to know me. When I admitted I had never kissed anyone, he leaned over me. With the tips of warm fingers, he brushed my hair off my shoulder. Then he put his hands on each side of my face, positioning my head up toward his. He kissed me. Softly at first, then he slipped his tongue in between my lips and found mine. He tasted like cinnamon toothpaste and it burnt my mouth. He slid his fingers down my neck, across my shoulders, and as he made his way down my arms, I pulled away.
“Interesting,” he sighed as his eyes appraised me.
“You’re my cousin,” I said to him and wiped my mouth.
He smiled and shook his head. “No I’m not. Jenny is my step mom, not my real mom. You aren’t even related to her, technically. Besides, foster parents aren’t real parents anyway.”
We stared at each other for the longest minute before he finally smiled again and asked, “Did you like it?”
“Like what?”
“The kiss.”
“Yes,” I said quietly. Because I really did. I could still feel it everywhere in my body and it scared the shit out of me.
“It wasn’t bad,” he said wonderingly. “I usually just kiss guys.”
“Wait. What? Really?”
He smirked and nodded. “Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?”
I shook my head. “No. But why would you kiss me if you’re into dudes?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should do it again so I can figure it out.”
We did do it again. A few times actually. I don’t know what he ended up figuring out, but by the time I hung out with Guy and his friends, it was clear I had nothing to be scared of. He definitely was attracted to men. I put a stop to the kissing, which he had no qualms about. He’s been my best friend ever since.
3
Mason
Mom sets a plate in front of me with three grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches. Hell yeah. “How was your first day?” she asks.
My mind instantly flips to the girl from this morning. I found out her name in second period when everyone was talking about “the incident”. Hope Love. What kind of name is that? It’s as if karma is straight up screwing with me. Hope Love.
“I think I’m in love,” I say. And then I laugh because I hear some kind of pun in my statement. I play around with the words in my head. I Hope I can get in Love. I’d Love to have some Hope.
“Mason, don’t play with me,” Mom says, but I hear that little sliver of hope in her voice. Ha, I’d Love a little sliver of Hope. I could do this all day.
“Mom, I promise you, I am not playing. This girl is amazing.”
Mom glares at me, trying to get me to admit something. What, I don’t have a clue because I’m not lying. “What’s she like?”
“She’s fucking gorgeous.”
“Don’t say fuck.”
“You say fuck,” I say.
“Well I’m an adult.”
“Mom, last time I checked, eighteen was the legal age of adulthood.”
“Mason Xavier Patel, you are still in high school, and as long as you live under my roof, you will not say the word fuck.”
“We rent.”
“Shut up. Now tell me about this girl. What’s her name?”
I grin at her. “Hope Love.”
“Mason, I told you not to play with me. I am too old and too tired for your shit.”
“Mom, don’t say shit.” I duck my head as she swings at me. “All right, calm down. I swear her name’s Hope Love. Is that not the best name you’ve ever heard? And she’s freaking beautiful, and tough. I watched her kick a football player’s ass today.”
“That’s it. I’m done trying to talk to you,” she huffs. “I don’t know why you get my hopes up.”
Ha, Hope can get me up. Literally, can do this all day.
“I’m being one hundred percent honest. I had to pull her off this stupid dickhead. I think she may have killed him if I hadn’t stopped her.”
“Don’t say dickhead.” She crosses her arms, but asks, “Well, why was she beating him up? What’d he do?”
“I’m not sure how it started, but he pushed her and she didn’t do anything, just told him not to touch her and this di—asshole—straight up touches her face.”
“Asshole isn’t okay either.” She clucks her tongue. “So she just beat him up?”
I nod. “Beat his freaking ass.” She rolls her eyes, giving up on my cursing, and I take a bite of my sandwich. It’s so good I moan. “I think she got kicked out though. That’s what people were saying.”
“That’s it? You didn’t talk to her?”
“Didn’t get a chance,” I say with my mouth full.
“Then how can you say you’re in love? You don’t even know her.”
I finish the last bite and scoop up the next sandwich. “I know enough. She’s got this skin...” I trail off and shake my head as I recall my first glimpse of her in the car. “She’s beautiful, Mom. Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” I know Dad did.
“Hmph,” Mom scoffs. “Mason, you find most women beautiful.”
“No, most women find me beautiful. I can’t help that.” I chuckle and take another bite. “I just find something to appreciate in women.”
“We both know damn well what you appreciate about women.”
“Mom, come on. I have always been careful and respectful.”
“What kind of example are you setting for Kellin?” She glares at me again. I’ve heard this before. She’s overreacting as usual. Kel has no idea what I do when I’m not here. I’m not stupid. It’s not like I’m going to tell him about my sexual exploits. And I have never brought anyone into my mother’s home.
“Where is Kel?” I ask to change the subject.
“He’s next door. His dinner’s in the microwave. Makes sure he eats and takes a bath.”
“And does his homework, and brushes his teeth, and gets to bed on time. I know.”
Mom kisses my forehead. “I love you, Mace. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Love you too, Mom. Have a good night.” I watch her leave and finish my dinner before starting on my homework.
I’m getting ready to throw my calculus book when Kellin gets home. “Where’s Mom?”
“Work,” I say as I start the microwave. “Grilled cheese tonight. Then homework and bath. If you’re quick enough I’ll play some Call of Duty with you before bed.”
“Sweet.” He opens his math book while he eats and starts multitasking.
*******
The following day I search the parking lot for Hope’s car. I’m not surprised it isn’t there. Disappointed, but not surprised. I park, but stay in the car. I want to finish this song and chill before I have to go in there and deal with the fake smiles and leering eyes of girls I have absolutely no interest in. Don’t get me wrong, I love women. I can usually find some redeeming quality in any female. But right now, I’m only interested in one girl. A girl I found out yesterday isn’t well liked by most of the other girls at this school. This obviously just intrigues me more.
The lot has cleared out, so I decide it’s time to get my ass inside. The halls are packed, so I know I’m not late. I stop at my locker and am instantly attacked by two of the mass produced.
“Hi Mason,” one breathes. She says my name like it’s a secret. I put my head in my locker so I can roll my eyes. She may not have a redeeming quality.
“So, how are you liking it here?” the other one asks.
I toss a few books inside and glance back at these girls. They’re both smiling so big, I half expect their lips to split in the middles. “It’s all right, I guess.”
“You can sit with us at lunch if you wan
t,” one of them says. She bounces up and down. My eyes are drawn to her chest and I toss one more book as I stifle a laugh. Guess I found her saving feature.
I slam my locker and turn to face them. I smile at each of them, focusing my attention on these girls one at a time. I can’t help it. It’s like it’s embedded into my DNA to be flirty. I’m just naturally superior at it. “Uh, yeah. I’ll see. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you ladies later.” I flash one more smile before I turn and head for class. I have no intentions of sitting with them. Hell, by the time I slide into my desk for first period, I’ve already forgotten their faces.
At lunch time, the girls are back at my locker, waiting for me. At least, I think they’re the same girls. Either way, I duck into the bathroom and give it a solid five minutes checking my facebook from my phone before I decide they’ve lost interest. I head back down the hallway and my feet slide as I try to stop mid-motion. I was wrong. One girl is still there, leaning against my locker like she has every right to be there. The bell rang at least a minute ago. What the hell? I’m not in the mood for this drama. I turn down another hallway instead.
There are two guys standing near an empty classroom. I go toward them. I figure I can hide out in there for a few minutes until my groupie finally gives up, but as I get closer, I notice one of the guys look up and nudge his friend. He nods a kid coming down the hall in the opposite direction. His eyes are cast down, blonde hair in his face as he stares at his shoes, minding his own business.
The other guys push off the wall and follow close behind him. “What’s up faggot?”
I freeze as his words hit me. This kid’s pale face blotches pink and his eyes narrow in anger, but he keeps walking like he’s used to being treated like shit in the hallway.
“Hey, we’re talking to you, homo.”
The kid doesn’t react and it’s obvious they aren’t going to let up. He looks like he can handle his own, but I have this problem—I’m allergic to homophobic asses. I step into their personal space. “What the fuck did you just say?” And now I realize I’m dealing with the same jockstrap dickhead that messed with Hope yesterday.
“What, are you a little faggot too?” he says.
And this is where I lose it. Why can’t he stop using that word? I drop my backpack and take hold of the bastard’s collar. I have him against the lockers before I know what I’m doing. But hey, I’ve already gone this far, so, what the hell? His friend stands there like a moron, not sure what to do. “I better never hear that word out of your mouth again, you bigot asshole,” I yell right in his face.
“Get the fuck off me,” he spits. I shove him sideways and scoop up my pack. Then I turn my back on him so he knows I’m not afraid of him. I’m nearly daring him to come at me.
I round the corner, my hands shaking. I want to go back and punch that guy in the face.
“That. Was. Awesome.”
I glance sideways and realize the blonde kid followed me. He smiles and I can’t help but grin back at him. “He fucking deserved it.”
He nods, not taking his eyes off me. “Yeah, he did. For a lot of reasons.” We’re standing outside of the cafeteria now and I am even more not in the mood to deal with crazy chicks.
“You in this lunch period?” I ask.
“Yeah. You want to sit at my table?”
“If that’s cool.”
He smiles again. “You just saved my ass and pwned Christian Dunkin. You, my friend, just earned head of table.”
I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. I’m just glad I don’t have to sit with the femme fatales. “Sweet. Let’s eat.”
While in line to buy lunch, I learn that my new found buddy’s name is Guy. No shit. He’s gay and often tormented because of it. He’s in a band. And he loves chili cheese fries.
“Just so we’re clear, you don’t happen to play for my team, do you?” he asks as I pick up a plate of fries.
I look at him sideways and smile. “No, man. I bat straight.”
He nods, not affected in the least. “Didn’t think so, but I had to ask. Don’t worry, I won’t judge you. A lot of my friends are straight.” I laugh. I like Guy. He’s funny and a smartass. I think we’ll get along pretty well.
*******
After school, Guy is sitting on the hood of my car. Well, it’s not my car. Mom bartends nights and sleeps days. I get the car for school in exchange for dropping and picking Kellin up.
“What’s up?” I say as I unlock my door.
“I need a ride,” Guy says.
“Get in. I have to pick my brother up first, though.”
“You’ve got a brother?” Guy asks a little too excitedly.
I stare at him over the roof. “He’s twelve,” I say flatly.
“Oh. I’ve got a sister that’s thirteen. You guys should come over.”
I slide into the car and start it. “Yeah, all right.”
4
Hope
Today has been a good day. I didn’t wake up until eleven. Didn’t get out of bed until noon. Took a super long shower, using up all the hot water without anyone complaining. Ate a bowl of cereal and didn’t have to worry about the twins begging me to share. Laid on the couch and channel surfed until two. Now I’m lying in bed using up the last hour of silence to write some lyrics.
The hour flies by. I hear the front door slam and eye the clock. Shit. Where did the time go? Feet shuffle up the stairs and there’s banging on my door. “Get your fine ass out here. We’ve got company,” Guy yells.
“Your lame ass friends don’t count as company,” I say as I jerk my door open. Then I realize he isn’t talking about our band. There’s a kid beside him and behind the kid is the dude from school that stopped me from murdering Christian Dipshit Dunkin. I definitely remember those green eyes and that black hair that falls across his forehead. It’s flipped up at the ends, looking windblown and adorable. I hadn’t realized how tall he was. I have to lift my chin to look up at him. He towers over Guy, who is pretty damn tall himself. Wow. This dude is kind of beautiful.
Guy smirks at my awkward faux pas. “These are my friends,” he says pointing to the kid. “Kellin.” He thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “And Mason Patel.”
“It’s you,” I say.
One brow quirks up in this extremely attractive way and Mason smiles. “I get that a lot.” With just one look he has me squirming, but it’s the way his eyes hold me. Like he’s soaking me up nice and slow, and enjoying every single second of it.
My hair is in a sloppy bun on the top of my head and I’m wearing an old Quiet Riot tee shirt, left behind by one of my mom’s “boyfriends.” I tug the hem trying to cover my thighs.
Mason’s eyes rake over me and he grins. “Do you feel the noise?” he asks. I immediately laugh at his joke, but Guy and Kellin both get this strained, confused look.
“Hold on. I’ll be out in a minute,” I say as I slam my door. I slip on some jean shorts and shuffle through my drawer for a better fitting shirt, settling on my little white Italian Stallion tee. The shirt is so old and worn it may as well be made of wheat, and I got it when I was thirteen, so it’s a little snug, but I love it. Gotta represent.
“You’re related to her?” I hear Mason say through the door. Then he laughs loudly. He has a great laugh. “Your name is Guy Love?” He barks out a laugh, louder this time. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
I start laughing too as I slide the shirt over my head. I like the easy way he teases Guy about his sexuality. He isn’t afraid to broach the subject. I mentally give him ten cool points and then I realize he knows my name. I am not one of those girls, the kind that get all flirty and giggly over every cute boy that walks by. But my stomach instantly fills with butterflies on speed and I feel giddy and nervous at the same time.
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Guy says. “We foster her. My last name’s Handlin, dick wad.”
“Like that’s better.” Mason is still laughing when I open my door. All three boys look at me and I remember my hair
. I pull the band from it, letting it spill across my shoulders. Mason’s lips part in this way that causes my heart to flutter. “Uh… What are we doing?”
Guy looks at his bare wrist. “We have a couple hours before Dad and Jenny get home. You wanna bounce?”
I glance at Kellin. “You cool, little man?”
He straightens his stance and nods. “I’m cool.”
I give him the test I give everybody. I stare at him for several seconds, then say, “What’s your favorite band?”
“Green Day,” he says without hesitation.
“Do you play an instrument?”
“My brother’s teaching me to play guitar,” he offers.
I feel Mason’s eyes on me, but I don’t look away from Kellin. “You any good?”
He shrugs and his cheeks turn pink. “Not like Mason.”
“Not yet,” Mason adds and ruffles the kid’s hair. Kellin tries to fight a smile, but fails, and now I’m smiling.
“Okay, you’re cool.” Guy twirls his finger, telling me to hurry up, and then crosses his arms over his chest. I finally turn my attention to Mason and repeat my interrogation. “What’s your favorite band?”
He smirks at me, his eyes full of amusement. “Is this a test?”
“Yes.”
His smile spreads wider and I notice a dimple in his right cheek. “I don’t have one favorite band.”
His answer catches me off guard. Nobody ever says that. Guy laughs and slaps Mason’s shoulder. “Great. We can go now.”
“Did I pass?” Mason asks.
“Oh, yeah,” Guy says. He looks at me and wiggles his eyebrows. “You definitely passed.”
I turn and proceed down the stairs so they can’t see the ridiculous flush heating my pale skin. Cheese and rice. I think I just found my kindred spirit. Or my male alter ego. The Jekyll to my Hyde.
Outside, I head straight for Neko, my car, named after Neko Case, a red haired Indie singer. It’s a cherry red 1967 Chevy Bel Air. The car is the only possession my mom left behind that’s worth anything. Of course, at the time it was a heap of junk, but Alec and Guy helped me restore her to her former glory. I used my bare hands to put her back together and make her beautiful. I love her.
Dylan runs out of the house and eyes Mason and Kellin suspiciously before stopping in front of me. “Where you going?”
“Store,” I say at the same time Guy says, “Library.” I make a face at him and sigh.
“You’re not supposed to go anywhere. Jenny said you’re grounded for getting superended.”
I snort. “Damn, Hope,” Guy sings. “You got superended? I think we need to drop the p in your name ‘cause you is a hoe.”
“I got suspended, Pickles. I’m just running to the library,” I mentally roll my eyes, “and then to the store to pick up candy.” I bend toward him. “If you promise not to tell, I’ll bring you back a Reese’s.”
Dylan puckers his lips while he thinks it over. “And a Snickers. King size.”
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