Forever Mason, page 2
“Sarah, I think.”
Liam shrugs and, once again, keeps his eyes focused on the ground, missing the action in front of us. The cheerleaders run past us, each of them kicking up their heels to make sure their skirt flaps in the wind. I elbow Liam, but he doesn’t look up.
“Do you know her?” I ask.
He finally raises his head. “I told you I don’t.”
“No, not the one talking to you earlier. That one.” I point to Katelyn.
He shrugs. “Not really. She’s in my history class. I think she came from Kelly.”
Kelly Junior High and Madison Junior High make up the four grades at Beaumont High. Liam and I went to Madison and have been friends for as long as I can remember. We met during pee wee football. The first time he threw the ball, I caught it, and he thanked me. We’ve been inseparable since.
“Makes sense. She’s cute.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“Her friend is too.”
“Didn’t notice.”
“Maybe I’ll talk to her tomorrow. What class period is history?”
“Fourth.”
“Nice, right before lunch.”
He nods in agreement.
Two
“Why are you looking so handsome today?” my mom asks when I come into the kitchen. A glass of orange juice sits on the counter, which she poured for me. I don’t like breakfast, but she insists I eat something other than a candy bar or donut. If Liam spends the night, she makes us a big spread because she knows his mom doesn’t cook.
“I’m handsome every day.” I wink.
She slaps me with the hand towel she had resting on her shoulder. “You know what I mean. Is there an assembly or something?”
I shake my head. “No, ma’am. We had our final one last week. Don’t you remember? I won the student of the year for gym.”
Mom looks at me oddly for a moment and then goes back to doing the dishes. I tease her all the time about her being forgetful, but sometimes it scares me. It makes me wonder if she’s sick or if there is something else wrong with her.
“I have practice after school, and then I’m walking Liam home.”
“I don’t know why you do that,” she says. My parents love Liam but feel like I put more into our friendship than he does. I’m not supposed to know this, but I’ve heard my folks talking when they think I’m in bed. I also know they don’t like his parents. Not many of us do. Mom and Dad feel like Liam asks me to do stuff for him when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Liam will never, and has never, asked me for anything. Sometimes, I wish he would, but he’s so damn private about everything. I invite him over here all the time. As long as he doesn’t have practice, a clinic, or some camp to attend, he’s allowed to come over. I have only been to his house a few times in our lifelong friendship. It was odd and uncomfortable. His house is nicer than mine, but his dad is beyond strict, and his mother is out to lunch.
“Because he’s my friend.” I put my glass into the sink and kiss my mom on her cheek. “See you later.” I grab my backpack and football bag and leave before she can say anything else. My truck sits in the driveway. I can’t drive it yet, but soon. Before the end of the summer, I’ll have my driver’s license. As soon as school is out, I’m going to work at Willy’s washing cars.
I walk toward Liam’s. His place is about six blocks out of the way, but I don’t care. If he leaves ten minutes before me, we usually meet about halfway and finish the walk together. Two upperclassmen drive by. Some honk, while others ask if I want a ride. Each time, I tell them no. Liam isn’t allowed to ride in anyone’s car without permission, and I don’t want to leave him to walk by himself.
I beat Liam to our meeting place and look down the street, waiting for him to come into view. As soon as I see him, I go toward him and relieve him of one of his bags. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly.
“I know.” I set our bags down and put my arm through the loopholes so I can heave them over my shoulder. “Just think, in the fall, I’ll drive us to school.”
Liam tries to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. I bet he’s afraid his dad won’t allow him to drive with me. I hope, by the fall, Liam tells his father to take a flying leap. Sterling is such a dick to Liam. His mother isn’t much better.
“Do you have a game tomorrow?” I ask him.
“Yes, at noon. I’m pitching.”
“Well, I’ll be there. Maybe Coach will let me sit in the dugout.”
Liam smiles. “Yeah, maybe.”
We don’t say much on the way to school. Liam keeps his head down most of the time. When we reach the school, I elbow him when I see Katelyn. “Fourth period, right?” I nod in her direction.
He stops and looks. “Is she the reason you dressed up?”
I scoff. “My mom said the same thing. What’s wrong with a guy wearing a nice pair of shorts and shirt?”
“Nothing. I hope you brought a change of clothes to walk home in unless you plan to put those back on while you’re sweaty.” Liam walks toward the door, leaving me there.
“Okay, now you sound like my mother,” I say as I try to catch up with him and keep my eyes on Katelyn and her posse. Damn, she’s cute.
Liam and I head into the locker room to store our bags for later. There is no way both his bags and my football bag will fit into our locker. I swear, the school thinks we don’t have books or binders to deal with on top of sports equipment, and they give us the smallest space to share. Before Liam’s dad called the school, we used to have to carry our bags around or ask our non-sports friends if we could store our stuff in their lockers for the day. One call from Sterling and Liam had a designated locker in the boy’s locker room. Of course, this pissed off every other athlete and put a target on Liam’s back.
Not that he didn’t have one when he started high school. The former quarterback knew he would have to fight to keep his starting job. Liam is just that good, and when I’m on his left, we’re unstoppable.
We walk toward our first-period class. Only we don’t have class together. He goes to math, while I go to English. Liam’s much more intelligent than I am, or so his class schedule says. I’m okay with it. I’ve seen his homework load, and I wouldn’t want that every night.
Three
I watch the clock like a hawk. The minute hand moves incredibly slow. My leg bounces when the long spindle reaches the five-minute mark, and then it’s four, and then three. My heart does this weird seizing thing I can’t really describe, and it feels like my throat is tightening up. It reminds me of the time I tried out for the wrestling team back in eighth grade. What an embarrassment that was. First, I had to wear that . . . thing. It went so far up my butt I picked my imaginary wedgie for a week. Second, I had to try out against this behemoth of a kid. He didn’t even go to my school and was some elite wrestler from across the county line. He came to Madison for a try-out, and the coach thought it would be funny to pair us together. I think I was the only one not laughing—or breathing, for that matter—when the kid put his forearm on my neck and tried to kill me. Needless to say, wrestling was not and still isn’t a sport I enjoy.
I’m out of my seat one minute before the bell rings. I open the door so hard and fast that the knob slips from my hand and slams into the wall. “Sorry, Mrs. Baker!” I yell as I book it down the hall. I know I will get into trouble for ditching class early, but I think the principal will understand when I say it was for love. My mother, however, will not. I’m hoping no one has to find out about my early escape. Maybe if I get called into the principal’s office I’ll tell him I had to take a leak and didn’t want to wait in line. That always seems to work for the girls in class.
By the time I reach the classroom where Liam has history, I’m out of breath. I shouldn’t be, considering I’m a high-caliber athlete—coach’s words—not mine, but my heart is racing. It feels like it’s in my throat, trying to escape through my mouth and blocking my airway. I stand near the door, trying to catch my breath while I wait for the bell to ring. I do not know what I’m going to say to Katelyn. I have all these thoughts running through my head. I know I have to be smooth because she’s gorgeous and probably has all the upperclassmen chasing after her. This is my one shot at making a good impression on her.
The bell rings, and all the doors in the hall open. Kids file into the hallway, and a couple of the ones coming out of the history class bump my shoulder as they pass by. Chatter fills the surrounding space. Someone says my name in passing, but I keep my attention on the door. I don’t want to miss Katelyn coming out.
I rock back on my heels and almost fall over when Katelyn appears in the doorway. Her head is down, and she holds her books to her chest. “Hey,” I say as I catch myself against the wall. My shoulder bumps the off-white painted cinder block. I use the momentum to right myself.
Katelyn watches every second of my newly found clumsiness with wide eyes. “Are you—”
“Hi.”
We speak at the same time, and both smile when we realize what we’ve done.
“You go first,” I say to her.
“I just wanted to know if your shoulder is okay?”
I look at my shoulder. It’s not sore, but I roll it anyway to put on a good show. “Yeah, it’ll be okay.”
“Good.” She tilts her head and smiles.
Damn, she’s freaking beautiful.
“Can I sit with you at lunch?” I blurt my question out before I realize the order of my words are wrong. I always sit with Liam, and I meant to ask Katelyn if she wanted to sit with us. Not the other way around, but by the look on her face and the gleam in her eye, she wants me to sit with her. I can’t take my words back now.
Liam appears in the doorway. “You ready?” he asks.
Shit, think fast.
“Yeah, we’re going to sit with Katelyn and her friends today.”
Liam looks from me to Katelyn, and then back at me. He drops his head and says, “No thanks,” as he walks between us and into the crowd of students heading to lunch or to their next class. Katelyn watches him and then drops her head.
“Liam’s shy,” I tell her.
“Yeah, he only talks in class when he’s called on.”
I nod toward the cafeteria. “We should go, or we won’t have much time to eat.”
“I just need to stop at my locker.”
Katelyn and I walk next to each other until we reach her locker. Her cheer friends are all standing around chatting. “Mason is sitting at our table today,” she tells the group.
“Oh yeah, is your hot best friend going to sit with us?” one of cheerleaders asks as she steps forward. I swallow hard, not because I find her attractive, but because she scares me.
“No.” My voice squeaks a bit. I clear my throat, but there still feels like there’s a lump in there. Katelyn slams her locker shut and I jump, tearing my gaze away from the girl in front of me.
“Ready?” Katelyn asks. I like how forceful she is. Most of us cower to the upperclassmen, but not her. I fully expect to walk next to Katelyn, but Josie is there. They link arms and leave me to follow behind them.
As soon as we step into the cafeteria, I scan the space for Liam. I don’t think he’d skip lunch, but with him, you never know. After Josie, Katelyn, and I get our lunch, we head toward the table full of cheerleaders. That’s when I spot Liam, sitting there by himself. Not with the baseball team or the guys from our football team.
Katelyn nudges me to get my attention. She motions to the open seat next to her and then turns her gaze toward Liam. “Oh.” Katelyn stands, as does Josie, and they walk to Liam’s table. I don’t know why I don’t follow but I stand there, watching as the girl I think is cute and her best friend go sit down to eat lunch with my best friend.
Four
I slide into the backseat of my parent’s car. We’re on our way to Liam’s game. I planned to go by myself, but my parents feel sorry for Liam and want to be there to support him. Of course, the first time Sterling says something ridiculous, my mom will complain to my dad about how someone needs to take Sterling Westbury down a peg. Whatever that means.
When we arrive at the field, Mom and I head to the concession stand. I love concession stand hotdogs and need about five of them to start my afternoon off right. I’m standing next to my mom, waiting to order, when I see Katelyn and her band of cheerleaders heading toward the bleachers. I stare at Katelyn, hoping she’ll look in my direction. But she never does, and now she can’t see me.
“Who is that?” my mom asks.
“Huh?” I play stupid.
“The girl. Which one do you like?”
Mom and I move up a step. Three more people, and then it’s our turn. Right about now, I’d give anything to be at the counter right now, ordering. Then maybe my mom will change the subject.
“Mason.”
“Ugh, why do you always notice things?” I ask her.
“I’m your mother. It’s my job. So, which one?”
I hesitate for a moment before spilling the beans. There really is no way for me to get out of this. If I hadn’t watched Katelyn until I couldn’t see her anymore, my mom would’ve never caught on.
“Katelyn Cohen.”
“Is she older than you?”
I shake my head. “No, ma’am. We’re in the same grade. She went to Kelly.”
Mom nods in understanding.
We finally step up to the counter, and I place my order for five hot dogs. Mom gives me a side-eye, but I don’t back down. I don’t judge her for ordering coffee at a baseball game—when it’s hot outside.
I carry most of the stuff we ordered to the bleachers. My dad stands and climbs down to help my mom. Personally, I don’t think my mom needs help, but dad does it anyway. He told me one time he does whatever he can to hold my mom’s hand. I don’t get it, but whatever.
As soon as I sit down, I unwrap one of the dogs and stuff it into my mouth. I’m mid-chew when I hear my mom say, “Mason likes one of those girls over there.” Mom points, and to make matters worse, Katelyn turns and looks. She starts to wave but drops her hand. I don’t even have to ask why—it’s because there’s a damn hot dog hanging out of my mouth.
“Thanks a lot, Mom,” I say, only I mumble my words because I have a mouth full of food.
“That’ll teach you to take bites and not shovel your food.” Mom is a real firecracker today. She doesn’t even look at me when she stabs me in the heart. “Let’s go, Liam!”
I glance to the field and see Liam standing on the pitching mound. He goes through his warm-up, throwing five pitches, and on the last one, he ducks down so Brian Mitchell can throw the ball to second. Scott Mann, our second baseman, pretends to tag the runner before tossing the ball around the horn.
“Let’s go, Beaumont,” I yell as the batter steps up to the plate. I look to the right, and Liam’s dad is standing behind home plate with his arms crossed. He looks pissed, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man smile.
“Why does he even come?” I hear my mom ask my dad. “He just scares the boy to death.”
“I don’t know,” my dad says. He pats her leg and then claps his hands. “You got this, Liam! Find your target and focus.”
Liam throws the first pitch—strike. Same with the second, and the batter goes down swinging. The same happens with the next two batters. Everyone in the stands cheers, except Bianca. She’s sitting on the first bench with her sunglasses on. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s sleeping.
Liam is the third one to bat. There’s a guy on second when Liam steps up to the plate. Sterling barks out, “You know what to do.”
Well, duh. There are times when I want to ask Sterling if he ever plans to remove the rod from his ass, but I’d probably get into some sort of trouble for disrespecting an adult. Not that Sterling qualifies as one. Liam swings and connects with the ball. He hits a line drive down the third baseline, which easily scores a run. After he stops at third, his father barks out, “You should’ve run home!” As if Liam is supposed to ignore his coach.
“Four more years of listening to him,” Mom says.
We’re at the top of the third when Katelyn waves at me again. I’ve finished my pile of hotdogs, and I don’t have anything hanging out of my mouth. I get up and head toward her, not bothering to look back at my mom. I bet she’s giving me another one of those looks.
“Hey,” I say when I reach Katelyn and her friends. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“After lunch yesterday, Josie and I thought we’d come to watch.”
I nod toward Josie and say, “Hey.”
Josie waves and then turns her attention toward the game.
“It was really nice of you to sit with Liam yesterday.”
“It seemed stupid for him to eat alone. I don’t get it,” Katelyn says.
“Get what?”
“He’s so popular. All the girls talk about him and how cute he is, but he doesn’t talk to anyone except you. Why is that?”
I nod toward Sterling. “His dad is a real ass. Liam only talks to me because I make him. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, and if his dad had his way about things, Liam wouldn’t have any friends. I force myself into his life so he has someone because otherwise, he has no one.”
“That’s so sad,” Josie says.
“He’s my best friend. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.”
“That’s sweet of you, Mason.” Katelyn’s fingers brush against my leg. I’m sure the act of her touching my thigh is innocent, but in my mind—she wants me.
“What are you girls doing after the game?”
“Nothing, why?” Katelyn asks.
“What do you think about getting some pizza with Liam and me?”
Josie’s eyes light up, and she nods.
“Yeah, we can do that.” Katelyn nudges Josie, and they giggle.
I stay with the girls until the end of the game. We win, of course, not that anyone expected us to lose with Liam on the mound. He’s some sports prodigy or something. When he comes out of the dugout, I run up to him. I need to talk to him before his dad does.
