"Cella, guess what?" I rolled my eyes at Mason's excited voice. Of course, I'd known he arrived before he spoke—I got that aggravated feeling—but his deep voice was just an annoying reminder. I looked up boredly to see him plopping down in his chair just as the bell rang.

"What?"

"Blake's coach really liked how I played the other day, he wants me on the team!"

      Marcella squealed in excitement. "Mason, that's awesome!"

     "I know, right?" Mason's voice was overflowing with excitement. "He said that if I keep playing as good as I did on Tuesday, I might score a spot on the starting lineup!"

      "I'm so happy for you!" Marcella cheered. "You're gonna be the star of the team, Mason!"

     "Yeah." A huge smile was present on Mason's face. "It's pretty exciting, huh? The only issue is there's practice today. I can't come help with the project, I'm really sorry."

     I gazed up at the ceiling. "Bless," I said in relief. I looked back at Mason to see that his smile had disappeared.

     "You know, Cella, I was actually wondering if you wanted to hang out after," though he was speaking to Marcella, his eyes kept flickering back to me. "Just the two of us—maybe we could catch a movie or something. There's a few in the theaters that I've been dying to see."

     Marcella smiled sweetly, her cheeks turning pink. "That sounds like fun, yeah." 

       Mason's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Sweet." He flashed me a smirk—too quick for anyone else to see, but enough for me to know what he was doing. The glare I was giving him was pure malice, but he'd turned his smiling face back to Cella and was completely ignoring me again.

      I had to confront him about it. So I did. When class was over, as soon as we were out the door, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from Marcella. My friend called out in surprise, and Mason said "What the hell?" but I didn't stop. Mason resisted, and I had to admit, he did a good job, but he eventually gave up struggling when he realized I wasn't about to stop. I pulled him out of the hallway and behind the school building, ignoring the shock I felt stepping into the sun, until I was sure nobody was around.

      "Dude, what the fuck?" Mason snapped. "I'm going to be late!"

      "What do you think you're doing?" I didn't beat around the bush. That wasn't how I rolled.

      Mason gave me a strange look, but I could see him fighting down a different expression. "What are you talking about?"

       "With Cella!"

      Mason gave up on subduing his grin and smirked. He looked proud, arrogant, and—to my extreme annoyance—amused. I felt the urge to punch him in the face. Then again, I always felt that around Mason.

     "I don't know what you're talking about." There was no more snap in his voice. He sounded completely nonchalant, and completely cocky.

      "I'm talking about the fact that you're constantly flirting with Marcella, and you just asked her out," I said pointedly. "What are you trying to get?"

     Mason put a hand to his heart and mock gasped. "Oh Kieran, how dare you assume that I am trying to get something! Do you really think that low of me?"

      "Yes," I deadpanned.

       Mason scoffed and dropped the facade. "Yeah, well, what I want with Cella is none of your business."

      "She's my best friend, it is my business," I growled. "She's not just a plaything, you know?"

      Mason quirked an eyebrow. "And who said I thought of her as one?"

      His words brought a rush of relief over me. The truth was, I wasn't trying to stop him from being with Cella. As much as I hated the idea, it wasn't my place.

      I was trying to figure out what kind of guy Mason was. Because I would try and stop them if he was going to use her. If that involved punching his lights out, I'd be more than happy to.

     "So..." I said slowly, "You actually like her?"

     Mason didn't answer.

     "Do you?" I pressed, staring at him intensely. "Because if you don't—"

      "If I don't, what?" Mason shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Once again, none of your business."

      My relief was replaced by instant anger. "What's that supposed to mean? Why the hell did you ask her out if you don't like her? What kind of sick game are you playing?"

     Mason's expression became uncomfortable, and a twinkle of guilt flashed in his eyes for a short second. His feet shuffled for a moment and he glanced back at the school. "I...I've gotta get to class, dude," he turned to leave.

      He hadn't taken a single step before I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back towards me until we were inches apart.

      Though he was taller than me and I had to look up at him, I could tell that the glare I was giving Mason was intimidating enough to make him realize that I meant business.

     "Tell me what your intentions are," I said, my voice dangerously low, "Before I force it out of you."

      Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum

      Suddenly I was aware of Mason's heartbeat.

     The initial oh shit expression on his face faded, replaced by another smirk.

     "You wanna know why?"

       Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum

      I hated that he sounded so nonchalant, so carefree. My best friend's feelings were on the line, and he was grinning.

      But I knew he didn't actually feel carefree. His heartbeat was slowly growing faster and harder, practically thumping against his chest. That gave me a little satisfaction, I had to admit.

     "You think you're all that," Mason's smirk disappeared behind a scowl. His jaw had tensed, revealing that vein on his neck, the one that had nearly made me lose control. I felt those urges again, the urges to pounce and bite. "You think you can treat anyone any way you like because you're you. But I know your deal, Kieran. Without Cella, you're nothing."

      Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum

      My eyes widened and I felt fury make its way through my body, from my brain to my fingertips. "You wouldn't," I hissed.

      Mason glared. "How would you know? I only met you, what, four days ago? And you've been too busy treating me like shit to get to know me."

      Mason's heartbeat had slowed down, yet it was still getting louder. No, it wasn't getting louder, I was hearing it more. It rang through my brain and compromised my focus.

     "You're seriously telling me that you're pretending to like Marcella to get back at me? That's sick!" I exclaimed. I may have been shouting, I wasn't sure; it was like I was listening to Mason's heartbeat through headphones and had that volume turned way up.

     Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.

      I should have just let Mason go. If I took a step back, put some distance between us, I wouldn't be so distracted.

      But I was angry. No, furious. He was using my best friend, the one person who'd stood by my side through everything. Letting go would be like backing down, and my ego couldn't handle that.

      "I get it, okay?" I said when Mason never responded. "I'm a jerk to you. But take that shit out with me! Don't hurt Cella for it!"

     Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum

     Mason scoffed. "Stop pretending like you're upset for her sake. All you care about is the fact that your only friend is going to spend more time with me and less with you," his voice was ice cold.

      "You're the most selfish—"

       "Me? Look at you!"

"How can you even consider doing something like this? Do you think I won't tell her?"

       Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum

         I didn't even hear Mason's reply. His heartbeat was all I could hear, his vein was all I could see. I felt my fangs slide out...

       I had to put some distance between us, despite the hit my pride would take. Forgetting my anger, I roughly shoved Mason away from me and instantly felt relief. My mind cleared, my vision focused, my thirst disappeared.

       Then my vision blurred once more when Mason's fist came flying nowhere and slammed into my cheek. I wasn't ready, and the force of the punch sent me flying to the ground.

     I landed with a thud and had to blink a few times to regain focus. The sting was already receding, and I quickly got to my feet.

      "What the hell?" I exclaimed, rubbing my cheek. "What was that for?"

     "Don't act like you don't know!" Mason yelled. "If you want a fight, you've got one."

      Okay, maybe roughly pushing him away wasn't the smartest plan of action. I hadn't meant to start a fight, but how was I supposed to explain that to him?

       "Dude, I don't want a...." then I remember that this was Mason. This was the dude that pissed me off to no extent. The dude I'd been wishing for an excuse to punch since I first met him. The dude that was using my friend's feeling for his own selfish advantage. "Actually, I do."

     Before Mason could respond, I swung my fist and punched him straight in the nose. I was expecting a satisfying crack, but all Mason did was cry out and stumble back. A few seconds later, he shook it off and stared at me with a glare that, for once, really did intimidate me.

     Then I was on the floor.

      We were rolling around in the grass, punching and kicking and getting ourselves absolutely filthy. Every punch I landed, Mason seemed to recover from just as quickly as I'd delivered it. The same went for every blow I received from Mason.

      That made no sense.

       Like, no sense.

      I should've won this fight from the first punch.

      Eventually, I grew bored. It was literally a waste of time. The only results we were getting were bruises that wouldn't last. So I pushed Mason with both my hands and feet, sending him tumbling to the earth beside me, and quickly stood. Mason stood as well and lunged again.

      "Wait!" I said quickly, and, to my surprise, Mason complied. "This is going nowhere."

      "I don't care," Mason growled, and it sounded so animalistic, I almost thought it came from somewhere else. "I'll do this for as long as it takes to teach you a fucking—"

     "Go back to class, Mason," I said boredly, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm not going to fight you. And an honorable man doesn't attack someone who won't fight back. So go."

     That was a lie. If Mason tried to hit me again, I'd engage without a second thought. That wouldn't be a problem, though, because Mason turned on his heels and stormed away.

Marcella and I worked on the play for about an hour. We were nearly finished, all we needed to add next was the ending. If we kept working on it today, we could probably finish it. But I had other ideas.

"Marcella, we need to talk," I said seriously. Marcella was instantly listening—she knew that when I said that, it was something important to me.

"Okay, what about?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulder, just long enough to pass it.

"Mason."

"Oh."

"Cella, we tell each other everything, right?"

Cella hesitated. "...Right. Yeah, of course."

"So you would tell me if you liked someone, right?" I continued, giving my best friend a meaningful look.

Marcella nodded. "Yeah..."

Tired of dancing around the topic, I said, "Marcella, do you like Mason?"

Marcella sighed and looked down. "Well, I've only known him a few days, and it's not like—"

"Marcella," I repeated pointedly, "Do you like Mason? I'm not asking you to confess your undying love. I just want to know if you're crushing on him."

"I..." Marcella looked worried for a moment, and I felt a pang of hurt. As harsh as I could be, she should know that I'd never let something like this come between us. "Yes," she finally breathed. She looked up and quickly said, "Please, don't be mad! It's just a crush, Kieran, it's not like—"

"Marcella, Marcella, calm down," I put my hands on her shoulders and smiled slightly, to let her know I really wasn't mad. "I can't control who you like, and it's not my place to try. I just want to know... why?"

Marcella seemed thoroughly surprised, whether it was by my response or my question, I wasn't sure. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you like him?" I was genuinely curious. I couldn't imagine what Marcella saw in him. Sure, he was attractive and nice and funny, but he was Mason. Yuck. "I'm not making fun of you, just asking."

Marcella sighed, her eyes clouding dreamily. "Well, he's handsome and sweet, but I guess you mean more than that. The thing is..." she hesitated, picking her words carefully. "I've never been Marcella Gibson. At least, not since I've been your best friend. I've always been Kieran's friend. Mason is the only person who doesn't identify me through you."

I felt guilt spread in my gut, like a flower blooming uncomfortably in my stomach. I wanted to argue, to say that that wasn't true. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized it was. People treated Cella like my sidekick.

Did I treat her like my sidekick?

"I'm...I'm sorry that you feel that way," I said, and I meant it. "I never wanted...You know I don't think of you like that, right?"

Cella nodded solemnly. "Of course. But for once, you're not the only one."

I felt my heart break a little just thinking about the fact that I was about to tell her otherwise. I almost backed out, but I couldn't just sit back and let Cella get used. "About that..."

Cella's head whipped up and she stared at me with wide eyes. "What?"

Maybe that wasn't the best way to start that.

"Mason...Mason's not the type of guy you think he is," I said carefully.

Cella narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

I sighed deeply and prepared myself for the shit-storm that was sure to come. "He...he's using you. To mess with me."

Marcella was silent for a moment. I saw anger seeping into her expression, and expected a rant about how much of an ass Mason was.

"I can't believe..."

"I know," I sympathized.

"That you could be so conceited!" She exclaimed.

"I know, he's..." I paused. "Wait, what?"

Marcella stood angrily. "Everything is always about you, isn't it?" She ran her hands frustratedly trough her blonde locks. "You're so obsessed with yourself, you can't accept that, for once, somebody's giving me attention instead of you!"

I jumped to my feet as well and quickly said, "Wait, no, Cella, that's not it. It's not—"

"I think it is, Kieran," her face was red with anger. "Something about me finally doesn't involve you, and yet here you are trying to push your way into it like you always do! Or are you so afraid that Mason is going to take my attention off of you that you'd stoop this low to try and get it back?"

      "No, Marcella, I swear it's true," I insisted, putting my hands on her shoulders to try and calm her down. "He told me."

      Marcella scoffed, "I'm sure, because Mason would totally tell you something like that."

      "I'm serious! Don't you trust me?" I asked, feeling hurt that my own best friend didn't believe me.

      "I trust you. But I'm done playing the supporting role in the Kieran show. It's about time I became the leading lady," Marcella said decisively, and I knew there was no arguing with her. "I think you should leave."

       My eyebrows shot up. "You're kicking me out?" I exclaimed.

         Marcella didn't meet my eyes. "I have to get ready. Mason is going to be here soon, anyways."

Marcella nodded towards the door, and I hesitated before stepping towards it. Before I was out of the room, though, I turned back to Marcella with worry on my face. "Are we...are we—"

"We're still friends, Kieran," Marcella reassured, her gaze softening. "Best friends—you'll have to try harder to get rid of me. But I am going on this date with Mason."

I nodded in understanding. I'd done what I could. "And if you find out I was right?"

Marcella gave me a sad smile. "You can say 'I told you so.' I just hope it won't get to that."

I took that as my sign to leave, so I uttered a quick goodbye and left her cozy home. Right as I was climbing into my car—I'd actually brought it this time—I saw Mason's pulling into the driveway. He smirked at me through his window, and I drove away, not giving him the satisfaction of getting a response from me.