by Jon Athan
Mason smiled and responded, “Yeah? That's... That's cool, man. That's great.”
“Yeah, man. It's fan-fucking-tastic. But, we still don't know if you're really down. Let' see how far you can go.”
“What do you mean?”
George beckoned to a lanky teenager at the patio table. He shouted, “Jason! Come over here, bro! Pass the weed!”
Mason watched as the giggling stoner approached the group. He had a freshly-rolled blunt on his left ear and a glass marijuana pipe in his right hand. He reeked of weed, the stench was practically ingrained in his skin. He was the plug, the florist, the weed man.
As Jason lit the pipe and took a puff, George said, “Smoke a little, man. Let loose.” He could see the reluctance in Mason's eyes. He said, “It's a party, man. It's just a little bit of weed. It's not going to kill you.”
Jason blew smoke in Mason's face, then he grinned and said, “Don't be a pussy. Take a puff. The first hit is free.”
Mason smirked and nodded, refusing to back down from the challenge. He accepted the pipe and the lighter as he chuckled. He glanced over at his friends. Andrew grinned from ear-to-ear, Zachary ogled a nude senior in the pool, and Dominick appeared nervous.
Mason shrugged, then he lit the bowl and inhaled. He coughed as the warm smoke filled his lungs. Despite the group's laughter, he took another hit, then he passed it to Andrew.
He said, “Go ahead, man.”
Andrew stared at Mason with sharp eyes, awed by his audacity. George watched the confrontation with a jolly grin plastered on his face. A few other attentive teenagers watched, too, waiting to laugh or cheer.
Before Andrew could accept the pipe, Jason asked, “What the fuck are you doing, bro? I didn't let him smoke my shit, too.”
Mason furrowed his brow and responded, “You said the first hit was free.”
“I was fucking around. I didn't get paid enough to get everyone in this bitch faded. Georgie paid for you, not him.”
“Alright, alright. It's–”
“It's not alright,” Jason said, clearly frustrated. He jabbed his finger at Mason's chest and said, “Don't ever pass my shit without paying first. You hear me, you little faggot?”
“What did you just call me?”
“You heard me. I called you a fa–”
Mason struck Jason with a swift left jab. He dipped low, prepared to dodge any counter-punch, then he swung at Jason again. He hit the stoner's jaw with a powerful right hook, then he caught him again with a left hook.
Dazed by the blows, Jason wrapped his arms around his head and staggered. Blood gushed from his nose and streamed across his lips, plopping to the floor from the thin hairs on his chin.
Mason was blinded by his lust for blood. He rushed forward and tackled the stoner to the floor. The pair landed between a patio table and the pool. The teenagers at the table laughed and cheered as they recorded the fight. They were unperturbed by the violence. The mindset of a social network-obsessed teenager was simple: the more blood, the more 'likes' on Facebook and Instagram.
Mason straddled Jason's chest, then he pummeled the dealer's face with a barrage of powerful punches. He put all of his weight behind each blow. The vicious jabs caused a laceration to form on Jason's bottom lip. An elbow to the face caused a cut to materialize on the bridge of his nose. Blood streamed across his lips, chin, and cheeks.
Yet, no one tried to stop the fight.
Mason reached for the table and grabbed a brown beer bottle. He gripped the bottle's neck and held it over his head. His arm trembled as he stared at Jason's face. The blood did not bother him. The sudden silence at the party did not concern him. He remembered his television's advice: try to behave yourself.
From the grill, Dominick shouted, “Don't do it, Mason!”
Mason breathed deeply as he stared down at the stoner. His bloodied and bruised condition was amusing. He wanted to keep a low-profile, but he really didn't like being told what to do. So, he swung his arm downward and smashed the bottle on Jason's head.
Jason's head fell to the side, blood and saliva pouring out of his mouth. Shards of glass surrounded his battered head, scattered across the deck and even floating in the small puddle of blood. A thick gash formed on the left side of his forehead. Pieces of glass were stuck in the wound, too. Dark blood oozed from the cut, cascading over his face like rainfall on a windshield.
Mason staggered to his feet, exhausted. He tossed the neck of the bottle aside, then he glanced around the backyard. Music blared from the speakers, but his classmates were silent. He wiped his bloodied hands on his shirt, then he smiled and nodded – everything's fine now.
His classmates burst into a raucous applause – yelling, laughing, and clapping. As long as it was not occurring to them, violence was celebrated. Aggression and virility were revered in the generation of confused youth.
George stood over Jason. He gently slapped his dealer's face and said, “We're going to have to get you out of here, man. I can't have you bleeding all over my shit. My maid can clean crap and piss, but if she sees blood, that bitch will faint.” He shoved two one-hundred dollar bills into Jason's pocket, then he took the blunt from his ear. He said, “There's the money we owe you and a little extra. Have a good night, bro”
George beckoned to two men standing near the back door of the house. The men appeared to be older than high school students.
As the men approached, George said, “Take him out of here, man. Drop him off at... somewhere. I don't know. Drop him off over in the south side.” As the men carried Jason away, George shouted, “Hey, Jason! If they ask about your cuts, say you got jumped by some gang bangers! Don't fuck this up for us, man! You know I've got your back, bro!”
Mason casually sipped his beer as he watched the exchange from the grill. His friends stared at him with wide, zany eyes, but he didn't mind. George took care of his problem, so he wouldn't be in any trouble in the near future. The stares from his peers only served to stroke his ego.
George chuckled as he approached the group. He said, “Mason, man, you're crazier than I thought. You're down, man, you're down. I won't question that again.” He leaned closer and said, “Hey, man, let me talk to you. Jessica is in the living room right now. She was asking about you before you got here. She probably saw you beat Jason's ass, too. I think she's ready to go, man. Go in there, take her up to my parents' room, and smash.”
Mason gazed into George's eyes, surprised. Jessica wasn't the most popular girl in school, especially compared to the juniors and seniors, but he liked her. His friends liked her, too. The 2nd-place trophy was not bad at all.
Mason asked, “Are... Are you serious?”
“Yeah. She's in the living room. Just ask her if she wants to talk, then go from there. You know how to do it. It's the last door on the right. My dad has some condoms in his nightstand... if you want to use 'em.”
Mason was still in disbelief as he pondered the situation. He glanced over at his friends. Andrew and Zachary smirked as they patted his back – get in there. Dominick gave a nod of approval. Mason tossed his cup on the ground, then he marched towards the glass sliding doors at the back of the house.
***
Mason found himself in the kitchen. Teenagers smoked, drank, and conversed around the island towards the center of the room – Jessica was nowhere in sight. To his left, he could see the dining room through the archway. The dining room appeared to be the emptiest room on the first floor. Another archway to his right led to the living room.
Mason jostled his way past the drunk teenagers. He squeezed past the crowd and stumbled into the living room. The spacious room was filled with more of the same – drunk and stoned teenagers. A few of his unconscious classmates rested on the sofas, recliners, and even on the floor. Most stood around the edges of the room, talking and drinking.
The killer's eyes widened upon spotting Jessica Hernandez. The rest of the world was whisked away. The music from the speakers became muffled, his classmates beca
me blurred. The young girl, who wore a black low-cut dress, stood out against the madness. Particularly, he was focused on her cleavage.
Mason approached her and said, “Hey, um...” He nervously chuckled and rubbed the nape of his neck. He inhaled deeply, then he said, “I heard you were asking about me.”
Jessica stared down at Mason's bruised knuckles, then at the back door. She said, “Yeah, I was... Anyway, I just... I saw you fight that guy. It was a little crazy.”
“Yeah. I don't know what happened. Did it scare you?”
“No, no. It was... It was cool, I guess.”
It should scare you, Mason thought. He wished he could blurt out his thoughts, but he knew he had to keep a low-profile. He wasn't trying to kill her anyway.
Mason asked, “Do you wanna go upstairs? George said we can go to his parents' room and talk.”
Jessica puckered her lips and nodded, then she said, “Okay, sure.”
Mason grabbed his date's hand and led her towards the stairs. The pair found themselves in the hallway on the second floor. Moaning seeped through the sealed doors to his left and right. Obviously, other students were 'talking' in the rooms. They walked down the hall, then they entered the last room to the right.
Mason sat at the foot of the queen-sized bed, Jessica sat beside him. The pair glanced at each other, then they blushed and looked away – anxious. Their eyes wandered until they met again. They gazed at each other, then they kissed.
Mason gripped the nape of Jessica's neck with his left hand and he groped her chest with his other. The pair locked lips, slobbering over each other like feral dogs during dinner. Jessica even moaned as Mason squeezed her breasts and rubbed her nipples. She closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the ceiling as the deviant teenager pecked at her neck. The kissing was awkward, sloppy and passionate, but they enjoyed it.
Jessica pushed Mason back and smiled. She said, “I... I really like you, Mason. I think you're... I don't know what to think about you. You're mysterious, you're interesting, you're... you're cool. I like you.”
“I like you, too,” Mason responded.
Before he could kiss her again, Jessica leaned back and said, “Wait. I just want to... I wanted to ask you a question.”
“What?”
“Are you a virgin?”
There were only three options to such a question: no, yes, and maybe. He wasn't the flirtatious type, so 'maybe' was out of the question. He wasn't a liar, so 'yes' was not an option. The inexperienced teenager could only answer truthfully.
Mason nodded and said, “Yeah.” To his utter surprise, Jessica smiled from ear-to-ear. He asked, “Are you a virgin, too?”
“Yeah. I mean, sort of. I gave my ex-boyfriend a blowjob once, but I've never had sex with anyone. So, yeah, I'm a virgin. I'm... I'm happy to be here with you now. Do you... Do you want a...”
“What?” Mason asked, curious and eager.
“I don't know. I don't want to sound like a slut or anything. I was going to ask... Do you want me to give you a blowjob?”
Mason smirked and nodded, then he stuttered, “Y–Yeah...” As Jessica unzipped his pants, Mason asked, “Can I see your tits?”
Jessica simpered and nodded. She pushed her dress down and pulled her breasts out. As Mason groped her, she leaned down and pulled his penis out of his boxers. To her utter surprise, the teenager was still flaccid. She performed fellatio on him. Her slurping echoed through the room. Despite her efforts, he remained flaccid.
Jessica sat up and pushed Mason's hands away. She said, “Wait. Do you actually like me? I mean, don't you think I'm sexy?”
With a furrowed brow, Mason asked, “What are you talking about?”
Jessica stared down at Mason's flaccid penis. She nervously giggled and shook her head, baffled and embarrassed. She had some sexual experience with her previous boyfriend. During her experience, her boyfriend was erect and finished within a minute.
Jessica said, “It's just that you're not, you know, hard. I thought only old people couldn't get hard. Don't you like girls?”
Mason stared at Jessica with a deadpan expression, then he chuckled. Although Jessica teased him, he was not embarrassed or angry. If he were embarrassed, he would have easily murdered her – bludgeoned her with a lamp or forced her to choke on condoms.
Mason said, “Of course I like girls. I love girls. I just like them more with a little blood on them.”
Jessica's smile vanished with the sinister statement. Stony-faced, she stared at Mason. She tried to read his expression, she hoped it was a sick joke, but he seemed serious. He appeared enigmatic. She was no longer attracted to his mysterious aura, either. The devilish look in his eyes and the smirk on his face terrified her. She scooted away from him as she lifted her dress over her breasts.
She pointed at the door and stuttered, “I–I'm... I'm going to leave now.”
Jessica slinked away from Mason. She ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her dress, then she slipped out of the room. Mason lifted his boxers and pants, then he lifted his zipper. He sat back on the foot of the bed and stared at the door. He cracked a smile in spite of his failure.
He whispered, “I'll make you bleed next time, Jess. You'll see how hard I can really get when I skull-fuck you, you stupid cunt.”
He exited the room and returned to the party downstairs. He spotted Jessica chatting with a group of friends in the living room. He was surprised – she did not appear distraught. He thought about going back to the backyard, but he didn't feel like explaining or excusing himself. He walked out of the front door and headed home.
Chapter Eight
Suspension
Suspension and vacation were synonymous to Mason. He had been through the process before and he knew the routine. His father worked throughout the day while his mother focused on the housework, which included daily grocery shopping and a visit to the bookstore, so he was free to do as he pleased. A young man could only watch so many violent movies before becoming bored, though.
A cool breeze blowing through his hair, Mason cruised towards the front of the school. His classmates were not suspended so he had nowhere else to go on a school day. The bike skidded to a stop near his regular meet-up spot as he squeezed the brakes.
Andrew furrowed his brow and asked, “What are you doing here, Mason? I thought you were suspended.”
“Yeah, I thought you got kicked out. I even heard you were going to get expelled,” Zachary added.
Mason said, “Yeah, yeah. I don't really give a shit about all of that. My mom and dad left early and they probably won't be back until the afternoon. I was bored, so I came over here.”
In an uncertain tone, Andrew responded, “You're suspended and you're bored so... you came to school?”
“Yeah, exactly. Where else am I going to go? You want me to follow my dad to work? You want me to go to your house and see if your mom needs some 'company?' Huh? No, fuck that. I want to chill. Come on, let's get the hell out of here.”
Dominick asked, “What? You mean... you want us to ditch?”
“Yeah. Just one day. It's not a big deal. Besides, do you really wanna see Hicks without me in the room? He's going to clown you all day and no one is going to risk detention to protect you. Let's get out of here. Let's have some fun.”
Andrew, Zachary, and Dominick glanced at each other. Their reluctance was evident. Unlike their peer, the friends were not attracted to trouble. They didn't want to get suspended. They liked Mason, they welcomed him with open arms, but they were not interested in his brand of fun.
Mason stared down at his bike and muttered, “Damn it. I don't believe this shit...” He glared at Andrew and said, “You're always talking all that shit, Drew. You call Dom a 'pussy,' you call Zachary a 'faggot.' Well, prove yourself now. Let's go. Prove you're down.”
Andrew shook his head and said, “No, man. I can't. If I get caught... Look, my parents aren't like your parents. If I get caught or suspended, they're not just going to le
ave me alone, man. My dad isn't a pussy like yours. He'll beat the shit out of me.”
Mason lifted his arm and pushed his sleeve up. Purple and blue bruises were scattered across his forearm from the beating the day prior. His leg and ass were also burdened with painful welts, but he wasn't going to strip in front of the school.
He said, “My dad's no pussy, either. You take it like a man or you fucking kill yourself 'cause you're not worth shit if you can't. Okay? Now, are you down or not?”
Andrew stared at Mason with a steady face. He couldn't find his friend in the boy's wicked eyes. He slowly shook his head – I'm not down. Zachary and Dominick followed suit, shaking their heads and rejecting Mason's invitation. Mason smiled in disbelief, awed by his friends' lack of courage. Cowards, he thought, and after I got them invited to that party.
“Have you guys seen Jessica?” Terri asked from over Mason's shoulder. The boys watched as she walked towards them. She stopped beside Mason and said, “Sorry to bother you guys. I was just wondering if you've seen Jessica. She usually takes the bus with me.”
Mason responded, “No. I haven't seen her.”
Andrew said, “We haven't seen her, either. She probably got a ride. They probably forgot to pick you up, too. You're kinda forgettable, you know.”
“Shut up, Andrew. She would have texted me if she could have given me a ride.”
Mason ignored the babble between Andrew and Terri. Instead, he focused on Andrew's eyes. He could see a glimmer of passion in the windows to his soul. The young man clearly liked Terri, taking every opportunity to tease her in hopes of getting her attention. Andrew wasn't enigmatic, though. He wasn't mysterious, he wasn't cool.
How do you hurt a person without physically injuring them? Take away their love, stab them in the heart and in the back.
Mason asked, “Terri, do you want to come over to my house?”
Terri furrowed her brow and took one step to the side. She was caught off guard by the sudden invitation. She couldn't conjure an immediate response. She giggled as she glanced over at the group of boys – is he serious?