Forever Mason, page 6
“Are we just going to stand here?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?” Liam asks. “She invited us over,” he points out. “Surely, her parents are expecting us.”
He has a point.
But what if her parents aren’t home and? . . . and now everything my mom said to me earlier pops into my mind.
“Have you had ‘the talk’ with your parents?”
“The talk?”
I nod. “You know about sex and condoms and feelings?”
Liam shakes his head slowly. “My mom doesn’t really talk to me, and my dad only talks about football and baseball and how I didn’t do my job properly. Besides, I’m not allowed to date.”
Liam and I stand shoulder to shoulder. I turn slowly to look at him. “You know every girl in the school wants to jump your bones, right?”
He says nothing.
“You could literally nail each chick in school. Probably in the janitor's closet if you told them that’s where you wanted it.”
“I don’t want it,” he says. “Sometimes, they scare me.”
I shake my head. “Every guy on the team wishes they were you.”
“I don’t understand any of it. I’m only fifteen.”
“And destined for stardom,” I mutter. “If you ever decide to break the rules and date someone, whoever it ends up being will be the envy of the school.”
“If you say so.”
There’s splashing and giggling coming from behind the fence. Liam points to it and says, “There’s a gate.”
“Perfect.”
We step onto the grass and head to the gate. Thankfully, I’m tall enough to reach the latch on the inside and pull the lever up. “Hey,” I say when I step in.
Both girls scream.
“Whoa, sorry. I thought this would be easier than knocking on the door.”
“It is,” Katelyn says as she gets out of the pool and leaves me speechless. The way she walks up the steps, in a bikini, with the water dripping off her body, causes a stirring in my shorts. I drop my towel in front of me and stand there like a boy who is seeing a half-naked girl for the first time. And while this is definitely not my first time, it sort of is. None of the women I’ve seen at the beach before showed any interest in me, but Katelyn has, and that makes all the difference in the world.
“We started to think you guys weren’t going to come.”
Oh, that’s not a good word right now.
“Mason is a slow walker,” Liam says.
Now he wants to be a chatterbox.
“Wow, you talk!” Katelyn says with a smile. “And here I thought you only knew a word or two.”
Liam turns red, and I know he won’t say much the rest of the time we are here because she’s embarrassed him.
“Yeah, sorry we’re late. I stubbed my toe.” I pray my toe is actually decent looking so as not to scare the girls with my gruesome feet. Feet are so damn ugly.
Katelyn motions for us to follow her toward the pool. There are chaise lounges out, a couple of pool toys, and her pool is one of those really nice in-ground ones. I glance at her house and see her mother standing at the window. Her arms are crossed, making me wonder if she’s unhappy that her daughter has invited boys over. There isn’t a doubt in my mind my mom would be outside with us, tending to her garden or whatever.
“Hey, Liam,” Josie says when we get closer. He gives her a half-smile and a wave. You can see the dejection she feels by his lack of interest. It sucks that he won’t put himself out there. Although, he tried minutes ago when he tried to be funny, and Katelyn responded the way she did. Liam’s shy. They need to get used to that. Maybe football camp will bring him out of his shell.
For the next two hours we swim, splash around, and bask in the sun. Every so often, Mrs. Cohen comes outside with something. First, it’s our pizza, then it’s refilling our drinks, and she even comes out to check the water levels or something. Each time, Katelyn tsks and rolls her eyes.
“My mom is the same way,” I tell her.
“It’s just annoying. I can’t wait until I’m eighteen and can move out.”
“Won’t you go to college?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yep, far away from here, where she’s not hovering. I swear she thinks we’re going to have an orgy or something.”
An orgy?
“Well, my parents told me not to get high or come home pregnant,” Josie says. “They think we’re over here smoking pot and dropping acid. Sometimes, I think they’re too laid back even to care what I do.”
“You’re lucky,” Liam says. “I had to sneak out of the house to come over. My mom will never know I’m gone, though, so whatever.”
“That’s sad, Liam,” Josie says.
It is. It really, really is.
Ten
There’s classical music playing downstairs. I don’t know if it’s Mozart or Beethoven because to me they all sound the same. What I do know is my mom is cleaning, and when she turns on her classical music it means she’s deep cleaning. It’s my birthday. I’m finally sixteen. I should be ecstatic. Images of a summer full of debauchery should be playing in my mind. But there’s nothing but fear. Dread. Trepidation that the knitting club, did in fact, plan my birthday party. I’m afraid to go downstairs, scared of what I might see. Will there be balloon arches? Crepe paper strung from wall to wall. Pin the tail on the donkey? I hate not knowing and wish I had been adamant that I didn’t need a party. Even if I was, I fear my mother would’ve never listened and thrown one anyway. My only hope is that Liam comes. He’d probably be the only friend of mine who would appreciate sipping tea with our pinkies up and hanging out with an older generation. Katelyn would probably run for the hills—not that I’d blame her—I wouldn’t want to date an old fogey.
Geez, I’m sixteen. Old enough to drive once I get my license today. Not old enough to do much else, really, except date. I really need to man up and ask Katelyn out, although I’m scared. Just like I’m scared of what’s happening downstairs right now. I’m also terrified of what’s happening in my shorts. Every morning since I started talking to Katelyn, I’ve had some issues. Normally, this is something I take care of in the bathroom while I’m showering, but lately, I can’t seem to wait. I remember during football season, one of the guys talking about keeping a sock and a bottle of lotion in his nightstand drawer. I reach for the knob on the drawer and pull it open and there’s the bottle and a sock. It’s like it’s mocking me or maybe telling me it’s my birthday and I should take care of business before the knitting club arrives. I take the bottle and tube sock out of my drawer. My heart beats rapidly, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m excited or nervous.
Definitely nervous.
With a couple pumps of lotion in the palm of my hand, I kick my blankets off of me. I don’t even have to free myself from my boxers, this thing of mine, which needs a name, is already poking out. It’s like he has a mind of his own. As soon as my lotion covered hand touches my dick, my eyes roll back in my head. I picture Katelyn, in her bikini, laughing and splashing, coming near me with those sexy eyes, the type the starlet has in the movies.
Pump. Pump. Pump.
“Mason, are you awake?”
“Don . . .” My voice cracks and I’m unable to finish my sentence before my bedroom door starts to open. I scramble to hide the evidence, but it’s too late. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drops open.
“Oh, God,” she says as she backs out the door. In my haste to hide everything, I hit my head and cry out. “Mason? Are . . . are you okay?”
“God, Mom just go away for a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” she says. I lay there, with my hand on my head, until I’m sure she’s back downstairs. The music has stopped and there’s a faint banging coming from the kitchen. I’m surprised she’s not on the phone with my grandma right now or telling my dad to come home and take care of his son. Whenever I’m bad, I’m either his son or her son. I don’t get that at all.
Why is this my life?
I cover my eyes with my forearm and wonder what else my mother could do to embarrass me? And what did I do to deserve this? Why did she walk in like that? Why is she always the one to have the sex talk with me? Not that I want to have it with my dad either, but my mom . . . it’s just . . . I don’t even know.
I don’t know how long I lay there, with my arm covering my face, and lotion drying on my other hand and my . . . nope, can’t even say the word anymore because my mom knows what I was doing. I’m not sure which is worse, the fact that she caught me jacking off or that she knows I do this. I guess, when it boils down to it, it’s the same thing.
There is nothing I can do except pretend this never happened and that becomes my plan. After all, it’s my birthday and I’m almost an adult now. I’m sure when she was my age, she was doing whatever it is girls do. I avoid going downstairs and head for the shower instead. As much as I’d love to finish what I started, because believe me, pressure builds and the relief is very welcoming, there’s no way I’m attempting to do anything like this when my parents are home ever again, lest I get caught by my dad. I don’t even want to know what he’s going to say when he hears about this.
By the time I make it downstairs, my dad is sitting at the table, reading the paper and my mom is frosting my cake. I’m tempted to put my finger in the frosting, but nope. I don’t want to deal with the wrath of Mom. My mom will probably ask me if I’ve washed my hands with bleach. I refuse to make eye contact with my parents when I enter the kitchen and head right to the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?” Mom asks. I can’t help but wonder if she thinks I’ve worked up an appetite by doing what I was doing, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s asking because it’s still morning and I haven’t eaten breakfast.
“Yeah,” I say as I reach for the eggs. “I can make it though.”
“Don’t be silly.” Mom all but pushes me out of the way and reaches for the breakfast stuff. “Just because you’re sixteen now doesn’t mean,” she pauses and inhales deeply. I step aside and wait for her to catch her breath and to finish her thought. “It’s your birthday. I’ll make your breakfast.”
“You make it every day,” I point out.
“I know. It’s just easier.”
The awkwardness between us sucks, and truthfully, I really want a birthday hug from my mom, but feel like I’m not going to get one. I sit at the table and pick up the sports section to check out last night’s baseball scores.
“Are you excited?” Dad asks.
“For what?”
“Your test? We leave in an hour,” he reminds me. Each night this week we’ve practiced the dreaded parallel parking. I can’t imagine I’ll ever use it, but we have to learn it nonetheless.
“I am. A little nervous,” I tell him.
“Do you want to know what I did before I took my test?” he asks.
I nod, but mom drops the frying pan onto the stove and both me and dad look at her. “Sorry,” she mutters.
“Butterfingers,” Dad says as he hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “I think she’s sad you’re sixteen. You’re almost a man now, Mason.”
Another drop.
“When I was sixteen,” Dad pauses and shakes his head.
“He doesn’t need to know what you did at sixteen, Michael,” Mom barks out. She’s focused on the stove and not at us. Dad shakes his head and winks, meaning he’s planning to tell me later, and I’m not sure I want to know. What if Mom told him what I was doing upstairs and now he wants to reminisce about the time when he was a boy? I don’t think I could stomach it. Hearing stories about my dad in his sexual peak is not high on my priority list.
Dad lets me drive home. I feel like a whole new person now that I have the freedom to drive whenever I want. I have the window rolled down and my elbow rests there. My hands aren’t exactly at ten and two, but close. Music plays and the wind blows through my hair as I drive my dad back to the house. Damn, I feel good.
When we pull into the driveway, I put the car into park, set the emergency brake, and turn it off. Dad holds his hand out for the keys and laughs. “Nice job.”
“Thanks.”
“What do you say, we go inside and see what your mom has been up to?”
No, thank you.
I don’t want to know what she’s been up to. If I had to guess, crepe paper has puked all over the house and women are sitting on the sofa, drinking tea and talking about the run in their pantyhose or my mom has gone through my room and taken the lotion and used tongs to dispose of the sock. Nope, I’m perfectly happy getting behind the wheel of my truck and driving to get ice cream or something.
Dad elbows me and motions toward the house. Reluctantly, I get out of the car and follow him up the stairs. Dad smiles at me before he opens the door. This leads me to believe something fishy is going on, but what?
As soon as I step in, I’m greeted by the sound of “Surprise!” being yelled at by everyone in the room. Liam is front and center, holding a bouquet of balloons and he looks downright thrilled. I try not to laugh but to no avail. As coyly as possible, he gives me the middle finger and I feel like a proud papa right now because something has shifted in him and he’s coming out of his shell. Next to him, is the girl I fantasized about this morning. Her hair is curled and resting over her shoulder. She smiles and there’s instant action in my pants. Shit. I grimace and she frowns. Crap. Now I’ve really messed things up. Everyone else in the room are family, family friends, and yep, the knitting club.
“Happy Birthday, son!” Dad claps me on my shoulder.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Well, let’s mingle and eat,” Mom says. “Then we’ll open presents.”
Everyone disperses, leaving me with my friends. “I think you can let that go,” I say to Liam. He does and the balloons float to the ceiling. I look at Katelyn and smile. “I wasn’t making a face at you, I promise.”
“Okay,” she says. She steps to me and kisses my cheek. Only, it’s not like when your grandma kisses your cheek. This one is different. Katelyn lingers there, making sure I can smell her perfume. And the problem I’ve had all day is back with a vengeance. Only, I don’t step away because I don’t want to hurt her feelings again.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell them. “Where’s Josie?”
“She had to work and couldn’t get the day off,” Katelyn says.
“Well, maybe we can go see her later or something. I got my license.”
“Nice!” Liam gives me a high-five. “Guess you’ll be driving to school.”
“We,” I correct him. “I’ll pick you up on the corner like usual.”
Liam nods.
“What do you say?” I look at Katelyn. “Want to go see Josie when this party is over?”
“I’d love to, but I’m not allowed to ride with anyone yet. I can ask but I doubt my mom will change her mind.”
Well, that sucks. How am I supposed to take her on a date if I can’t drive her?
The three of us hang out in the living room until it’s time to open presents. My mom ushers us outside, where the crepe paper is, in fact, everywhere. And here I thought she’d given up on decorating. There’s a table with presents, many stacked on top of each other, and it warms my heart that people thought enough to buy me something.
“This is from your mom and me,” Dad says as he hands me an envelope. I open it and a key falls out. I look at him confusingly because it’s a key to my truck.
Our Dearest Son,
Each birthday is a milestone and 16 is one of the biggest. It’s your first step into becoming an adult. Our gift to you is your truck. As long as you maintain your grades, are active in sports and school, and are making good decisions, you owe us nothing. Gas, however, is your responsibility. We’ll cover the rest.
We wish you the happiest of birthdays, Mason.
We love you so much.
Love, Mom & Dad
I wipe at the tears on my face and look at my parents. Despite everything that happened this morning, my mom is beaming. She comes to me and gives me a hug. “Happy Birthday, my boy.”
“Thanks, Mom. And thank you both for this. I promise to do everything you asked in here.” I look at the card again and shake my head. “Wow.”
I open the rest of my presents and thank everyone for the new clothes, the knitted sweater which I’ll never wear, the cash that’s to be used on gas, and the movie passes. I plan to use those to take Katelyn on a date. Liam gave me a framed picture of the both of us from when we were in peewees, and Katelyn gave me a book about football and being a wide receiver.
After Katelyn’s mom picks her up, Liam and I climb into my truck and head toward his house. He’s leaving tomorrow and will be gone for the rest of the summer.
“I’m going to miss you,” I tell him.
He nods. “Things are going to change when I come back,” he says. “I’m so sick of Sterling and his shit.”
“Yeah.”
Liam sighs. “I bet when I get back, Katelyn will be your girlfriend and you won’t have time for me.”
“Nah,” I say. “She may be my girlfriend, but you’re my best friend and that will never change.”
“I hope so.” Liam climbs out of the truck and leans into the window. “Stay cool, Mason Powell. See you in August.”
“Go out there and show them who Liam Westbury is. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
Liam says nothing else as he turns and starts walking toward his house. I wait until I can’t see him anymore before I put my truck in drive and pull away.
Eleven
It’s been almost two weeks since Liam left, and I feel like I’m all alone. Sure, I have my mom and her knitting club if I’m so inclined to stay and learn how to purl, but I’m not. Mom says I have to stop moping around the house because I’m giving off bad vibes, and she read some article—that’s when I tune her out and don’t listen to anything else—she’s always reading an article about something and tries to relate it to my life. This one time, she wanted to track how many hours I watched television because “people” say too much TV will rot your brain. And one time, she put tape on the floor and said I couldn’t sit any closer than the tape because I would ruin my eyes. I love my mom, but she needs to quit reading Reader’s Digest unless it’s for the jokes. I think those are funny.
