How to Steal Mason's Heart

FIVE

“Is this really necessary?” I asked as I wore the lilac dress—emerging outside from the dressing room—that it almost would not fit on me. Jason was sat on the sofa casually reading a Women’s Health magazine as if he was really interested with it in the first place.

He placed the magazine on his lap, a look of boredom encompassing his features. We had been doing this for straight two hours and my body was tired while my feet were killing me. His blue eyes roamed all over my body, his head tilting sideways as if he was assessing me. I looked anywhere but at him, staring at the bright light of the store then averting it to the passers-by with a lot of paper bags slung on their elbows walking with their killer heels.

“Tomorrow is Greyson’s fifteenth birthday,” Jason irritatingly responded, seemingly annoyed by my question. I just rolled my eyes at him with a questioning look on my face.

“I thought you told me he was fifteen?” I asked.

He stood up and placed his hand on my shoulders which brought a scorching feeling on my bare skin. I looked at his hands that were touching my shoulders then back to his face. “Because I’m tired of doing the math,” he answered, grabbing a random dress from the shelf, taking off the hanger and throwing it right on my face.

“It was just a simple subtraction,” I mumbled under my breath as I went inside the dressing room, taking off the tight lilac dress and putting on a simple black dress Jason had given me.

“I heard you clearly!” Jason shouted but I shook my head, a smile on my face. The dress almost did not fit me but it wasn’t too loose for my liking. My waist line wasn’t a beautiful number and was a taboo subject even until now. I exited the dressing room and twirled in front of Jason whose attention was randomly staring at a blonde saleslady who was bending down, arranging the disarray of shoes.

I walked towards him and flicked him in the forehead, which was a very effective way of losing his interest over the woman’s a*s. He glared at me.

“It was attractive!” he defended but I gave him a mortified look. I flicked him in the forehead causing him to flinch in pain, nursing his pink forehead.

“You’re such a misogynistic pig,” I said. “So what do you think?” I asked, twirling my dress in front of him again. I could feel Jason’s eyes deeply analysing me, like he was looking through me as if I was n***d, as if he could see my soul.

He looked like he lost his breath. “It’s beautiful,” he said, breathing in a lungful of air. “I just have to use the comfort room.”

I looked at his disappearing body filled with wonder, asking myself why he was acting weird all of a sudden. The saleslady just looked at me with a knowing smile on her face as she approached me, gazing at the dress I fitted. She gave me a thumb up.

“So where will the date be?” she asked, giggling.

I raised a brow. “What do you mean a date?”

“Your boyfriend seemed enchanted looking at you wear that dress,” she replied as I choked out my breathing, my face bewildered with what she just said.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said.

“But the boy who just went to the comfort room is your boyfriend,” she lightly insisted.

“Him?” I gave her a look of abhorrence, my mouth twitching downwards while my hand animatedly flew in the air, waving them in front of her. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just helping me how to steal someone’s heart.”

Her face fell. “But you’ll literally make a good-looking couple with good-looking babies—“

I almost vomited with what she was just saying. I gestured her to stop with my palm raising in the air, a mere inch away from her. She sealed her lip shut.

“I’m going to buy this dress,” I said, taking it off inside the dressing room.

I walked out of the room with the black dress on my hand. The saleslady quietly took the dress from me and walked it to the counter.

“How did it go?” Jason asked behind me which made me jump in astonishment. I punched him in the arm. It was just a light jab but he flinched, his blue eyes growing wide. He touched the part where I punched him, lightly I might add, rubbing it softly.

I tilted my head sideways. “Are you alright?” I asked, concern filling my features. He forced a smile onto his mouth which quite never reach his eyes. He looked away, nodding a reply, and walked to the counter. I followed suit.

The dress was on sale which meant the price was cut-off for fifty per cent. It was originally eight dollars but it was only four dollars, much to our luck. The cashier looked at us with a dreamy look on her eyes just like what the saleslady did to me.

“Have fun and don’t forget to bring a protection kit in case of emergency! We don’t want an unwanted baby to come in your way,” she yelled as we exited the boutique with a wide-teeth smile.

“Please have mercy on me, I would never even kiss you,” Jason said, his face looking green as if he was going to puke his guts out. I bobbed my head up and down in agreement.

“Hell, the more I wouldn’t,” I chimed in, “because your breath smells like a dog has pooped into your mouth.”

Jason pushed my shoulder I almost tripped on the floor. I laughed. “It’s true,” I told him, “Why don’t you smell and see for yourself?”

He placed a palm in front of his mouth and let out a breath. He glared at me. “My breath smells just fine,” he said. His face went near me at close proximity. I pushed him away.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled, my brown eyes glaring at his blue orbs.

“Letting you smell the glory of my mouth,” he said, a smirk on his face. He went near me again, his face just merely a centimetre away above mine as he let out a breath, the smell of mint wafting on my nose.

I would be lying if his mouth didn’t smell good. I waved a hand in front of my nose with a sick look on my face, my face crumbling slowly. “Your breath smells like shit.”

“Shut up Sanchez. We both know you’re lying,” he said. We were already walking towards the food court, numerous stalls were surrounding the sixth floor. A Chinese take-out was just a few meters away from us. My feet propelled towards the take-out, the smell of dumplings and rice bowls making my stomach growl in hunger.

Jason was behind me, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“You sure have a good taste on food Alex,” he told me. But I just pushed him away immediately once he stood beside me.

“Only my friends call me Alex,” I said. He feigned a look of hurt as he dramatically placed a hand on his forehead, causing me to chuckle from where I stood.

“I thought we were friends, an almost lover,” he said, aspirating every word he spoke.

“Blech, you’re such loser.”

“A handsome loser?” he asked me, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I flicked his forehead for the third time of the day. I only smiled as we lined, contributing to the queue that was starting to increase by number.

“Admit it, I’m handsome,” he pestered, touching my cheek to force me to look at his face.

“You’re ugly,” I denied but my smile was starting to grow wider and wider.

His face dimmed, removing his hand on my cheek. “Here I am thinking I am the most handsome man to ever step on your doorstep,” he sobbed, holding my hand as he clasped his fingers around mine, my palm sweating at the contact. They were callous but seemed comforting.

“You do know that you’re holding my hand?” I asked him, raising a brow at him.

He grinned in response, his hand pointing towards a large tarpaulin that was hanging on the wall beside the Chinese take-out. It was written that if you buy one rice bowl, you’d get a dozen free dumplings and another rice bowl to share the love. I never thought Jason was so desperate just to get free food.

I pushed the back of his head but the grin on his face was never wiped off.

“Damn it Jason. You’re going to pay the bill,” I told him, my hand still holding his hand.

“But,” his eyes were wide while he puckered his lips pulling off a kicked puppy look, “if you want equality we will split the bill.” My heart almost—almost as the key word—melted at his expression most especially he was very convincing pulling it off.

“No, because you’re putting me into a lot of trouble just by holding your damn hand.”

He pulled his hand away from mine but he placed his arm around my waist, catching me off guard with his act. I cursed under my breath. He should start praying to all the saints that could possibly spare his life right now.

“What the f**k are you doing?” I asked, sending him the most lethal look that I could pull off, drawing my eyebrows together. I was about to give him a punch but I remembered his expression earlier so I opted to continue glowering at him.

“You said you didn’t want to hold my hand,” he answered with that stupid smirk on his face, “so I made you a huge favour by the doing the part of what most couples do.” He winked and placed a kiss on my cheek which caught me unexpectedly surprised twice in a row. I could’ve punched him in the face then and there but we were next in line, the cashier looking at us with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Rice bowl please,” Jason said before I could cut him off, sending me a flash of his eyelid closing.

“So you’re together for how long?” the cashier nosily asked, eyeing us suspiciously. I immediately looked at Mason lovingly even though I looked constipated, my eyes signalling him to do something.

“We’ve been together for seven months,” he answered casually, tightening his grip around my waist. I looked back at the cashier, mustering the realest smile on my lips. He seemed to buy it because he shrugged his shoulders, punching in their limited edition offer as our order.

He placed the rice bowls on cartons with dumplings on a Styrofoam. He smiled at us glumly, reciting their tagline: “May you find your happy never ending fairy tale.”

“Well that was as easy as I thought,” Jason said, immediately removing his arm around my waist, grabbing a rice bowl and eating it hungrily as if he had never eaten for days. We sat at a random table, placing the dress we bought.

“You still owe me five bucks,” I reminded, getting all of the dumplings. He slapped my hand but I shot him my death glare. He cowered.

“But you should support equality! Men don’t need to pay the bill all the time so now women should start doing that,” he complained while his mouth was full.

I gave him another flick in the forehead. “And I thought we are sharing the love?” he added, his smile shy.

“Alright,” I sighed in a defeated manner. “If that’s going to make you shut up.”

“Thanks Alex,” he said, burping out loud disrespectfully.

I made a puking sound. “God where are your manners?” I complained, eating two dumplings at a time. “And my friends call me Alex, not you loser.”

“I’ll call you i***t then,” he said, placing his hands at the back of his head. “So that we’re even. Calling me a loser—“

“Still a loser.”

“Shut up Sanchez.”

“Loser-ward,” I said, sticking a tongue out at him.

“Just shut up,” he retorted, closing his eyes. I flicked his forehead.

“Ouch!” he growled. “What was that for?”

“For being such a loser, Loser.”