How to Steal Mason's Heart

SIX

It turned out, Greyson was still turning fourteen—according to the large tarpaulin hung in front of the Ward Residence. As we—Courtney and I—stepped inside their house, Courtney left out a gasp on her lips—because their house were spic-and-span—but immediately recovered as her expression went neutral as usual.

The brown hardwood floor was shinier than the last time I was here. I could even see my own reflection whenever I take a look to see my face. I immediately looked for Jason to give him another whack in the head for his stupidity most especially he couldn’t even just properly subtract the year Greyson was born and the year we were currently in now—2014.

Mason was in the kitchen, helping Jason chop the last remaining pieces of the potatoes, who had a smile on his face. They were laughing loudly but went quiet when we appeared in their presence.

“Oh you’re here so early,” Jason said as he walked over to us but I flicked him in the forehead. His face crumpled, the agony clear in his eyes. I just laughed at his distraught expression.

“So what was that for Sanchez?” he complained, rubbing the sore spot of his forehead while Courtney giggled right beside me.

“For being such a dumbass. You told me he’s turning fifteen!” I calmly said but my face was seething most especially the number I wrote on the card that was pasted on the gift I bought was fifteen.

“Then what’s the big fuss about that?” he asked, his eyes filled with wonder.

“I wrote fifteen on the gift I bought you d**k-Ward,” I replied, bringing the gift close to his vision. He peered over it and laughed evilly, his eyes holding a mischievous look. I flicked him in the forehead again, which was beginning to become a habit.

Our conversation was broken by a clearing of their throat which was from Mason. “Your potatoes are probably burnt by now,” he said as Jason scrambled all the way to the stove, his mouth letting out a groan.

“Not again,” he drawled, his lips thinning in disappointment. Mason just smiled ruefully over to his brother, the dimple appearing on his left cheek. My heart fluttered at his expression, causing my palms to sweat profusely just by looking at him smiling. Courtney snapped me out of my own daydream, her brown eyes signalling over to Mason who noticed me staring at him. I blushed, my cheeks probably redder than it possibly could.

“So you’re Alexa?” Mason asked as he walked towards me. My feet were planted on the floor, my cheeks were still on fire while Courtney, she was gone, probably sitting in the living room. My mouth parted as I could feel the sweat beads trickling in my forehead. I was wearing the black dress Jason chose for me while my hair was in a ponytail. I had begged my mum several times to buy me a straightening iron. She had a look of suspicion on her face.

“Y-Yeah,” I stuttered, looking away from him, his blue eyes burning holes on me.

“No need to be nervous around me,” he said as he made me turn around, placing a hand at the small of my back which burnt my skin, making me stand straighter, and my posture like a lamppost.

He led me to the balcony where the night sky was oddly sparkling with stars, the lights of the town shining against the black atmosphere. We were silent for the time being whilst my breath was hitched on my throat, disabling me to breathe properly and to speak all at once.

“Jason told me a lot of stuff about you,” he started. I immediately panicked, my heart beat racing up a mile. If he told Mason my feelings for him I would murder him—kidding—I would yell at him for busting me.

“And he told me a lot about Courtney as well,” he said kindly, his blue eyes staring at me. His brown hair was swept in the night air. My brown eyes met his blue ones which were electric under my skin.

“Where is this leading to?” I asked him, as I gulped the bile rising on my throat.

“I like your best friend, Alexa,” he said. A cold bucket of water immediately was poured onto my body, like a hard slap on my face. My heart suddenly went to pieces at his revelation, my brown eyes widening while my lower lip quivered. The tears were starting to spill out of my eyes.

“Oh,” was all I could manage to reply, my breathing suddenly heavy. “That’s g-good,” I told him before I turned my back to him. Did he know all along that I like him? Oh god that was really embarrassing. Did he know all along that was why he told me he liked Courtney?

“Alexa,” he called as I stopped from my tracks. I spun my heel in a three-sixty and looked at him, simply looked at his face, his build, his towering height over me. I tilted my head sideways. “I was wondering if you could let me talk to her.”

I raised a brow. He was handsome—with the crooked slope of his nose, the electric blue in his eyes, his dishevelled brown hair—and he knew it so why was he a coward?

“You could always talk to her,” I answered, “She wouldn’t bite.” My lips forcefully curled up into a fake smile. I was restraining myself to cry, the bridge of my nose stinging in pain. I turned around as the tears fell loosely on my eyes. I manoeuvred my way inside without getting help from him because I did not want him to see me in this state. It was mortifying to wish that he would and he could like me back but what was more mortifying was that he liked my best friend who was probably talking to Jason now, who also liked her.

I bit my lip as my world started spinning around me, my eyes darting from left to right, looking for a bathroom somewhere.

“Is there something wrong, honey?” That was Greyson’s voice. He was wearing a black long-sleeved polo while his brown hair was waxed. He walked towards me but I looked away from him. He forcibly took my chin as he gazed at my brown eyes which were filled with hurt and vulnerability. There was a look of understanding encompassing his features.

“I’m sorry if Mason likes anyone else than you,” he said, a sad smile on his mouth. I did not need his empathy or sympathy or pity. I wanted to get away from here, escape and just disappear and be invisible to the rest of the world.

“It’s not his fault,” I said, a tear falling on my eyes. He wiped it with his thumb. “Happy fourteenth birthday by the way,” I added, forcing a smile onto my lips. I did not want to ruin his birthday just because of my stupid feelings over Mason.

“Don’t give up on him,” Greyson stated, “because I know Mason will like you.”

“I think that’s not going to happen,” I insisted, wiping the tears that were endlessly falling on my face. My breathing was constricted, my throat blocking the airways. “Let’s go downstairs,” I told him, “because they’re probably looking for you and me.”

He nodded in agreement. Greyson and I were only of the same height granted I was only wearing plain black ballet flats. We stepped down on the stairs carefully, as what Greyson reminded me, because there would probably be a stray canister lying on the ground. The last time they celebrated, he said, on Jason’s sixteenth birthday, he himself tripped on the ground. My voice echoed in a rich laughter, imagining him moaning in agony.

Everything happened in a millisecond. My feet stepped on the canister, twisting as I lost my balance, stumbling on the ground face flat. I felt my cheeks throbbing in pain, the bruise forming. I cried in pain, my chest falling flat onto the ground as well while my head was in haywire.

“What was that?” Courtney’s voice rang in my ears. I could hear footsteps clicking on the ground while I closed my eyes until everything went dark.

+ + + +

I woke up in the familiar white walls, a Hello Kitty blanket covering my frame. I looked around to see Courtney sitting beside the bed, a worried look on her face.

“Am I in Greyson’s room?” I asked her. She nodded in response.

“I almost had a heart attack when I saw you trip on a canister,” she said, hiding the smile that was growing on her lips. I sat up and threw her a pillow.

“Shut up Courtney. If you were the one here, I would probably laugh out loud,” I said, mirroring the smile that cracked on her mouth. We both laughed while I recounted what happened to me. Greyson warned about the canister but I didn’t seem to notice that booby trap on the floor.

“Jason is freaking worried of you,” she said, a teasing smile on her lips. My stomach made an eccentric churn, making my heart flutter in annoyance. I didn’t like the kind of feeling I get over him.

“Really?” I answered sarcastically. Courtney nodded genuinely, excusing herself to go out and get Jason. My palms were sweating while my heart was palpitating. I willed myself for it to stop but it was no use.

Jason went inside the room with the concerned expression on his features just like what Courtney told me. He immediately wrapped his arms around me into a hug, his body spreading warmth on mine while I was left dumbfounded by his actions.

“Uh, you can let me go now,” I told him awkwardly. He broke the contact with a sheepish smile on his mouth.

“I tripped on it too,” he told me, “when I turned sixteen. It’s like a tradition for us brothers whenever they turn a year older. That canister was meant for Greyson but you tripped on it.” There was a snicker coming out from his throat.

I rolled my eyes at him and of course flicked him in the forehead.

“It wasn’t my fault you tripped and my dad was the one who put it,” he defended, rubbing his forehead. “But I’m really glad your fine.”

“My chest still hurts,” I complained, the pain throbbing in my ribs.

“If you had boobs then you’d have a breast cancer by now,” he smirked. I grazed my fingers in his forehead harshly but he was able to dodge it pretty quick.

“I know I lack in that department you loser,” I retorted.

“But you’re beautiful,” he said in a serious tone. “You look beautiful in that dress.” The way his eyes was looking at me right now was different. I only gave him a glare but my heart was doing things otherwise (i. e. beating very loud and fast).

“Stop joking Jason,” I scolded and the playful look on his face returned.

“What did you and Mason talk about anyway?” he asked, curiosity filling in his features.

I looked away, the tears suddenly resurfacing on my eyes. “He likes my best friend.”

I turned to look at him and his face crumbled, his eyes glazed in sadness, the blueness fading away into mere grey.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he insisted, lifting his hand up in the air, shushing me.

“So what are you going to do about it?” I asked him, my heart shattering to pieces as well as him. I could feel it breaking like glass.

“We’re not going to give up.”