Mason

A rock was thrown and landed on the sidewalk in front of me. I looked up, seeing Nate wave from behind the gate, and darted over. When I slipped over the gate, Nate had stuffed his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. He asked, “Are you sure about this?”

I paused. “Yeah. Why?” He couldn’t have had cold feet. We had done worse things.

He lifted a shoulder and nodded to the house. “Aren’t your parents gone? Will Logan be okay in there?”

“Yeah.” I turned, just to make sure, but his window was still dark and his curtains never moved. “Mousteff is staying so if anything happens, he’ll call.”

“Your chef is your chaperone?”

I smirked. “I know. My mom’s idea to soothe her guilty conscience.” Wait. We started down the sidewalk, but I stopped. “How’d you know both my parents are gone? I only told you about my mom.”

Guilt flared over his face. “Sorry. Your dad’s at our house.”

“Really?”

He nodded and grimaced. “I’m sure he’s doing the same thing as your mom. There’s lots of drinking, lots and lots of it. I think Mom’s getting sick of it. I caught her glaring out the kitchen window at our dads on the patio.”

“What’d they do?”

He laughed, following me further down the sidewalk. “Nothing. They were both wasted. I think my dad’s kind of happy yours are splitting. He’s got his old drinking buddy back. I heard him telling my mom last night that it was like his old college days.”

“What’d your mom say?”

“To grow up. He’s too old and fat to be in a fraternity again.” He grinned. “My dad wore his old fraternity shirt for the rest of the day yesterday. I knew it was to get back at my mom.”

“What’d my dad do?”

“I think he found his old one too. I swear, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found a game of beer pong going on in the garage when I get home.”

It was hard to hear that. My parents were getting a divorce. Hoo-fucking-rah. No more fighting, wait—who was I kidding?—they would always fight, no matter if they were together or not. Man, though, my parents were getting a divorce. No more Mom in the house. No more Mom and Dad together in the house. I couldn’t say my parents were together, but shit, I haven’t been able to say that for a long time anyway. I couldn’t remember a time when we had a real sense of family, of Mom being Mom and Dad being Dad. They’d been cold roommates for so long.

Nate sensed the turmoil in me and grew silent. When I told him I wanted to get out of the house, he knew of a party. The rich pricks from Fallen Crest Academy were having one. I wasn’t sure about being social tonight. We’d be allowed in, no matter our age. I was Mason Kade. My dad owned half the town and my reputation on the football field gave me an advantage. Even the seniors knew to let me do what I wanted, but when we got there, I stopped on the sidewalk.

Nate looked over. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “I’m not feeling all that social.” I gave him a grin. “Sorry, I know you snuck out.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Mase, your family is dunzo. I’ll do whatever shit you want me to do.”

“I know.” He was a good friend, my best one besides Logan. The house was filled with lights, loud music, and drunken laughter, but I saw the pool in the backyard. It was gated off so no one was using it. I gestured to it. “If we climb the fence, we could hang out down there.”

“You want me to sneak into the party and grab some booze?”

“Nah.” I indicated my backpack. “I stole beer from the garage. It’s the good shit too.”

Getting over the fence was easy, and we headed to the far corner of the pool. Neighboring trees gave us some camouflage so we were able to put our feet in the pool and watch the festivities in the house. The music and laughter was still loud, but it wasn’t as bad. I handed a bottle to Nate.

We didn’t talk. We sat, listened to the party, and drank. After we both finished half the bottles I brought, Nate let out a belch. Then he laughed, looking at me in shock. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

I lifted my bottle in the air. “From this. It’s supposed to be the good stuff.”

He continued to chuckle, shaking his head, then bent over and pressed his face to his legs. “I don’t think this is the good stuff. Your dad brought over a truckload of booze to the house. Wait.” He held a hand up, his head still pressed to the tops of his legs, his shoulders shaking. “I take that back. I saw some cheap shit on their table last night. Yeah, you’re right. This is the good stuff. Your dad would have left it behind to save it.”

He kept laughing, the sound was muffled, but it got worse. “Your dad. He looked so ridiculous in his shirt. It was a size too small for him.”

I grinned, finishing my fourth beer and reached for another. “He probably shrunk it on purpose, to show off his physique.”

“Not my dad.” Nate lifted up. A silly grin was still there, but the laughter had lessened. One or two chuckles still slipped out and he started laughing all over again. “My dad’s shirt is so small, there’s a little pooch hanging out.”

I grinned. “As long as my dad’s not holed up with some other woman. I don’t know. That makes me feel better.” I sighed. Not my mom; she would’ve been hurt either way. I stopped thinking about it. That shit didn’t matter. It was done with. We got our lives back. Still, it was a hard f**king pill to swallow. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">