Blindspot (Daydream, Colorado Book 1)

by A. M. Rose

  “Kids, say hi to Drew for me. He’ll be in our class this year.” The teacher’s kind voice made him feel a little bit better as he watched a piece of chalk spelling out her name on the blackboard behind her, adding little flowers and a smiley face around it.

  “Hi, Drew,” the kids parroted back, and he tried a tiny smile, allowing a spark of hope to wake up inside him.

  He was instructed to sit in an empty seat towards the back, and he noticed he was sitting alone. That didn’t make him feel so good.

  “Miss May. Drew needs to have a desk buddy,” he heard someone call out, and he wiggled in his seat excited to have a friend.

  “That’s very nice of you to say, Emmet, but we don’t have enough kids in the class for everyone to have a desk buddy,” she said and Drew’s face fell.

  “But he needs one. He can’t do anything by himself,” the boy pushed on, and silence fell over the classroom.

  “Sure he can, you’re all very clever kids,” the teacher said, but there was no stopping Emmet.

  “But he has no magic. My mommy said he was a freak.”

  “Emmet!” the teacher scolded, but the words were out.

  Dread washed over Drew, and he felt his chin wobble. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to be different. He didn’t want to be a freak.

  “Miss May, I want to sit with Drew!” someone called out, and Drew looked up to see Emmet’s desk buddy picking up his things. The boy was small and had light brown hair. Drew thought he looked very friendly and nice.

  “Mason?” Miss May said, and the boy glared at Emmet.

  “I don’t want to sit with Emmet. He’s mean. Drew is nice, and I want to sit with Drew,” he demanded, pointy chin raised into the air. The teacher nodded, and just like that, the boy moved to Drew’s desk, unpacking his things meticulously before turning to look at him.

  “I’m Mason,” he said, and Drew offered him a tiny smile.

  “Hi,” he said softly. But it made the boy beam at him.

  “We’re gonna be super best friends,” Mason said, and he wasn’t wrong. They were inseparable.

  And he had gone and thrown it all away because he didn’t know how to cope with everything. He had been hurt and scared, and the only thing he could think of was to run.

  Mason was right.

  He had no business barging back into his life when the best he could give him was half a truth. There was no reason for him to go poking at old wounds. He had resigned to spend his life missing Mason and seeing him today didn’t change that. He would have to make do without him, like he had done for ten years.

  He dropped the photo from his hands and stood up, walking towards his bag, flicking his clothes into it, ready to hit the road. There was nothing in Daydream that could make him stay. He had only lingered as long as he had because… He shook his head at himself.

  He was packed in a matter of minutes, checking his pocket to make sure his wallet was there. His fingers caught on something sharp, and he hissed, pulling a white rectangle out. The edge was stained red from his papercut, but he saw Ben Peterson in neat letters and a phone number under it.

  Ben. Who seemed to know Mason. Enough to look protective when he realized there was something going on between them at least.

  On impulse, he took his phone out and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” he heard a voice from the other side, and he froze. What the hell was he doing?

  “Um…” He tried to figure out why he had called, but nothing was coming to him. He just knew Ben had an in with Mason, and in his messed-up mind that meant Drew had to be close to him. As if that would make him close to Mason too. It was stupid, but logic was not his best friend lately.

  “Who is this?” Ben asked when the silence stretched too long.

  “It’s… um… it’s Drew,” he said finally, and he heard a sharp intake of breath before Ben spoke again.

  “Hey, man. Are you okay?” Ben asked, and Drew ran a hand over his face. Okay? No, he wasn’t okay.

  “I…” he tried, but nothing was coming out.

  “Did you need something?” Ben offered him another chance to be a functioning human.

  “Mason…” he began, but he didn’t really know how to end it. How much did he want to say to Ben about Mason? Was it okay to let this man in on what they used to be to each other if Mason didn't think he needed to know?

  “He’s okay, I think,” Ben said finally, when it seemed obvious Drew would never voice whatever he was thinking.

  “Can you… can you just tell him… can you tell him I’m sorry. And that I missed him,” he said quietly, after another stretch of uncomfortable silence.

  “Oh. I’m not sure I’m the right person for that,” Ben said and Drew felt his stomach drop. His eyes were burning with tears he hadn’t shed in years, and his fingers clutched his phone until his knuckles ached.

  “I… I don’t have anyone else I can call,” he said, painfully aware of just how few people he had in his corner. His parents had pushed him away, and then in turn he had pushed Mason away. And then he was completely alone, pleading with a stranger to tell the most important person in his life that he was sorry for ruining things before they even began.

  “I didn’t mean call someone else. I meant… tell him yourself,” Ben said, and Drew hung his head between his shoulders.

  “I’m leaving in a few minutes,” he said, hating how much that sounded like an easy way out. Again.

  “Why?” Ben asked.

  “He hates me. And there’s nothing else in this town worth staying for.”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Ben said.

  Drew wished he could believe him. But he saw the look Mason gave him before he left. There was no mistaking that look.

  “He has every right to,” he said.

  “Maybe. I honestly don’t know much of what happened. Sage didn’t want to share personal histories that are not his to share, and Mason and I are friends, but he doesn’t seem to like talking about it. What I do know is that you meant a lot to him. And you fucked up somehow. Close?” Ben asked, and Drew let out an ugly snort.

  “Fucked up is an understatement,” he said.

  “Well in that case, the best you can do is own up to it.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Stay. Fight for him. Take the hits he needs to dish out and keep coming back.”

  “And that’s gonna work?” he asked skeptically, feeling hope build regardless.

  Ben huffed, his breath coming through as static. “Maybe not. But at least you’ll know you did everything you could to make things right.”

  Drew fell quiet again. Maybe Ben was right. Maybe this time he truly needed to stick through it and hope it ended up the way he dreamed of. Maybe, even if Mason never looked at him the way he used to, he’d be forgiven, and they could be friends again.

  “Yeah… yeah, I’ll stay.”

  If someone walked into Sage’s house just then, they would assume it was someone’s birthday or a holiday given the spread his friend had laid out on his kitchen table. As it was, it was simply himself, Ben and Sage with a feast made for a king.

  Mason couldn’t complain. His mouth was too full of food as he ate his way towards a happier feeling. It was the beauty of their friendship. Sage liked to cook his bad feelings away, and Mason liked to eat them. It was synergy. With the added inclusion of Ben into the baker’s life, Mason had worried that his friend would drift away from him. Seeing the lengths he went through to make him feel better made him realize he had nothing to worry about.

  And as Ben passed him another helping of mashed potato, he figured the handyman was okay in his book, and he could stay.

  “Should I make more bread?” Sage worried, glancing at the breadbasket that was firmly fixed in front of Mason. It was down to the last couple of slices. “I should make more bread.”

  Ben grabbed his arm and plonked him back in his seat. “We have enough bread, babe.”

  Mas
on ripped a piece of said bread with his teeth, trying not to glare at the happy couple with their pet names and healthy relationship and heart eyes. Did they have to sit so close to each other?

  Sage looked worriedly back at Mason, before leaning closer to Ben. “I don’t think I have enough dessert.”

  Mason stopped chewing, feeling his eyes begin to water. Sage threw him an alarmed glance and ran to the fridge. “I’ll make more!”

  “You don’t have to,” Mason mumbled, feeling ridiculous. But… dessert.

  “I shall!” Sage declared, and Ben shook his head fondly at his boyfriend before turning back to Mason.

  “We’re here for you when you want to talk,” Ben told him patiently. “Or I’ll go out and pick up some ice cream so you and Sage can talk? Get out of your way.”

  “Talk about what?” Mason played dumb, moving his vegetables around his plate. A bowl clattered in the kitchen.

  Ben paused for a moment, as if considering opening this topic. “That guy… Drew…is he someone important?”

  “No,” Mason said, but it didn’t sound too convincing.

  “I met him the day before he turned up in the bakery yesterday,” Ben said after a few seconds of silence.

  Mason froze, fork clattering to the plate. Sage came rushing back towards them, two bowls floating after him, whisks spinning madly inside them, batter splattering every which way. “You told him now? I thought you said we had to wait for the most opportune moment? ‘Don’t just blurt it out as soon as he’s through the door, Sage’ were your words!”

  Ben beckoned him to sit down again, which he did, bowls settling on the table next to him still being whisked.

  Mason watched all of this unfold with unseeing eyes. In his head he was thinking one single thing. Drew had come back to town who knows when… and he didn’t try to find me. It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to him yesterday when he got home after leaving Drew. He had curled up in his largest hoody, grabbed a tub of ice cream and most certainly didn’t cry into it as he fought against reliving the single most painful moment of his life in his head.

  He had been fighting against falling down that rabbit hole all day today as well. Flashes would pop into his head and he’d do his best to chase them away. Sage had texted him that his shift at the bakery had been covered, so Mason hadn’t bothered to get out of bed until the lure of Sage’s cooking moved him at about five.

  All things considered, he thought he had done fairly well. He didn’t want the place he finally, truly broke down to be his best friend’s kitchen with said best friend’s boyfriend watching him.

  “How long has he been in town?” Mason found himself asking numbly.

  “We don’t know. Ben met him in Coffee and Leaf, but I don’t think anyone else has seen him. Maybe he got in that day,” Sage said.

  He got in that day and had enough time to get a coffee and make nice with the handyman, he thought spitefully, conflicted about why he was feeling like this. He didn’t want to see Drew; he didn’t want to talk to him… but he hadn’t even tried.

  “He called me,” Ben said next, dropping the next bombshell on him.

  “He called you,” Mason repeated before his temper well and truly sparked. “How the hell did he call you?”

  “I gave him my card when we got to chatting in the coffee shop. He looked like he was having a tough time—” Mason scoffed even though his heart panged distantly, like an ingrained response that was still left over from the time before. “—and he mentioned he didn’t have any magic. I figured some non-magic solidarity wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  “But why did he call you?” he demanded, unable to keep the hurt from his voice as the question escaped his lips. He needed to know why, once again, he wasn't Drew's first choice.

  “My best guess… because he saw me with you,” Ben stressed simply.

  Mason snapped his mouth closed as his heart gave a dull thump. Oh.

  “I’m sure you’d be his first choice if he had your number,” Sage said quietly, apparently adding mind reading to his list of talents. Mason felt his cheeks flush at being caught wanting to matter to Drew after spending so long pretending not to care.

  “Funny how that happens when you skip town without a word,” he snapped, building his walls thicker, not allowing even those closest to him to see how soft the center of him was.

  Sage assessed him for a second. “He wants to talk to you before he leaves again.”

  Mason’s whole world stopped.

  Drew was leaving again. He was leaving. Again.

  The bone-deep panic it incited in him was startling to discover. He wanted Drew gone. He had told him to get lost and never come back. So why was he feeling like this at the mere mention of him doing as he asked?

  All the food sitting in his stomach began to churn, and he felt restless, leg beginning to jump under the table.

  “I have nothing to say to him,” he said finally, pushing down these feelings.

  I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.

  “But he seems to have a lot to say to you. Aren’t you curious at least?” Sage asked carefully. Mason threw him a withering look and he threw his hands up. “I fully support the wall of silence, but this might be your last chance to get answers. You deserve some answers is all I’m saying. It’s been ten years, and you’ve always wondered…”

  “I don’t need his excuses. I’ve been doing just fine since he left… Haven’t I been fine?” he asked, knowing he was lying through his teeth. Drew had left scars on him, irreparable ones that had shaped the last ten years of his life. He wasn’t about to admit that out loud, however obvious it was.

  “No, you’ve been a mess,” Sage said, bluntly honest as always. “But don’t you think it would do you good to hear out what he has to say and put a lid on that particular box, once and for all?”

  “Closure is a hell of a thing,” Ben said gently.

  “You’d think having your millionth phone call rejected and every last text unanswered would be closure enough,” he snapped.

  Ben sat back, mouth firmly closed, but Sage leaned forwards. “Maybe,” he said. “But why… it never made sense to anyone why he left… even knowing what happened, Mason, it still doesn’t make sense to me—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Sage!” he yelled, his voice ringing off the walls.

  Sage gulped, staring at him with those big, dark eyes turned down in sadness. The whisks fell silently into the bowl, spraying some batter on the table and Sage’s shirt. Mason felt terrible for taking it out on him, spewing this venom to the one person who had been there to help him stand after he had fallen down ten years ago.

  “Okay, Mase,” Sage said quietly. Ben reached over and grasped his hand in silent comfort. Sage rallied and offered him a smile. “He’ll be gone soon anyway, and then things can go back to normal.”

  “I’m…” sorry. The word got stuck in his throat. “Thank you for dinner guys, it was great.”

  “You’re leaving?” Sage asked, mouth now downturned.

  “I just… need some space,” he said, getting up from his chair.

  Sage followed him to the front door. Mason could feel his presence behind him, and it made him feel even worse for hurting him. He shrugged his coat on and turned around, determined to make it better. Sage beat him to it, pulling him into a tight hug that felt like instant forgiveness. Mason’s eyes pricked at the corners, too many emotions swirling in his chest needing a release somewhere; be it shouting in anger or crying into someone’s arms. He held back for dear life, tucking himself against Sage’s neck and allowing the fabric of his soft sweater to soak up the few tears that escaped.

  “Call me if you need me,” Sage whispered to him. “I’ll make you emergency muffins in the middle of the night, just say the word.”

  Mason choked on a laugh, throat feeling far too tight. “You don’t know the power you’ve just given me.”

  They separated, and Sage gave him a warm smile, helping to wrap h
im up against the chill night air. When Sage closed the door behind him is when he let himself begin to shake, the revelations of their conversation truly hitting, like waves against a cliffside slowly wearing him down.

  Drew was leaving.

  He wants to talk to you.

  Closure is a hell of a thing.

  The thoughts clouded his mind until he wasn't even aware of the fact that he had started his car and pulled out of the driveway. He vaguely recalled driving towards his home, parking, pulling out the keys of his apartment and then feeling like he’d suffocate if he went in. There was just a sliver of a conscious thought when he put his keys back into his pocket and turned to head towards the woods, starting at the end of his cul-de-sac.

  The air was incredibly cold and biting the skin on his cheeks, which was the only part of him left uncovered.

  He trekked the familiar path through the woods, noticing how overgrown the grass was. It sent a pang to his heart, to be reminded of how long it had been since the last time he’d been there. It used to be his favorite place in the world, and he’d shared it with his favorite person in the world. Drew took that away with him, like he took so many other things when he left.

  Shaking his head to try to clear his mind, he continued to fight his way through the thick bushes. He cast a quick light spell, the little ball of incandescent white light floating above his head and following him closely. He’d know where he was going even in the dark, though. All the best memories he had were made there.

  Driven by the desire to feel the way that place always made him feel, he hurried his steps. He reached the clearing and paused. The snow there was pristine and undisturbed, the scattering of mushrooms native to Daydream poking out of their snowy beds, acting almost as a pathway to the large tree in the center of it. Each mushroom let off an almost bioluminescent shine from its cap; blues and yellows reflecting back against glittering snow and some even climbing the edges of the gigantic tree towering over the clearing itself. As always, it took his breath away. The thick branches barely allowed moonlight any room to shine through, and the space around the trunk was free from snow as it all got caught on top of the tree.