Ch. 16: In Your Eyes
-Bennett-
I walked in through the gym's main entrance after pacing along the sidewalk for the better part of an hour, cautiously surveying the lobby while pushing the glass door forward. Despite my desire to lay low, I immediately caught sight of the one person I'd been hoping to avoid. Because of course.
Mason was sitting on one of the benches near the front, idly waiting by the entrance like a guard dog. A massive, intimidating one that took up most of the bench space and could crush me on a whim. He was also intimidatingly glaring ahead, which led to me apprehensively halting in my tracks.
I considered turning right back around, job be damned. And I would've left too... if he hadn't chosen that precise moment to glance up in my direction.
Mason shot up to his feet the moment our eyes met, his eyes widening.
"Bennett," he breathed out, stalking over before halting dead in his tracks. Mason's expression suddenly darkened with ire, his gaze souring so abruptly that I recoiled from the shock. His eyes narrowed sternly as he searched my face... and it was just—it was already too much.
A strenuous weight settled deep in my chest, my crestfallen body feeling so much weaker as I stood still... being picked apart. All by a mere glance. "Mason," I forced his name out while tightening my grip on the straps of my backpack, hoping that'd be enough of an acknowledgment.
I couldn't deal with that kind of expression today. Not from him.
"What happened?" He demanded.
"Huh?"
Then, before I even received a response, Mason was stalking forward once more. There was such clear determination written all over his face, so intense in nature, that I found myself stumbling back in response. I gritted my teeth at the sharp jabs of ache that sparked as I limped towards the main desk, shakily raising my ID card for Marissa to scan.
I didn't even bother to look up at her; she was likely bearing a similar expression.
"You still work here?" She sounded displeased, yet entirely unsurprised.
"I wish I didn't, if that makes you feel any better," I retorted quietly before stumbling around the desk and heading straight for the staff's locker room, where I'd patiently wait until it was time for my class to start.
"Ooh! Are you finally checking in?" Marissa asked the next person in line, voice suddenly confusingly... playful? "You were sitting over there for a while."
"Hmm, I guess so."
"Y'know you could've just asked for my number, right? No need to be shy," she coaxed in response.
I frowned at the sudden sugary sweetness in her voice, glancing back just as she scanned Mason's ID card. I perplexedly darted my eyes between them, huffing under my breath before meeting Mason's gaze once more. And there it was again, that same display of agitated displeasure that I already knew so well. It was staggering how easily I could detect it in Mason's eyes as well, or how familiarly suffocating it felt for it to be directed at me.
I turned right back around, only to anxiously halt once more at the sound of Mason's deep, imposing voice as it filled the lobby.
"Hey, can we please talk?" Mason called out from across the room. And I could've been projecting, but he sounded... nervous?
"About what, hot stuff?" Marissa replied, an unnatural giggle serving to punctuate her question.
"What? No, not you," Mason muttered before groaning under his breath. He yelled this time, even as his voice grew near, "Bennett, can we please talk?"
I shut my eyes tightly, willing my legs to move even as I felt the telling sound of approaching footsteps. I didn't realize how tense I felt until large, warm hands settled upon my shoulders. And I foolishly relaxed against them, despite my sudden desire to run.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It just—it hurts," I confessed through gritted teeth, allowing Mason to guide me towards one of the nearby benches. I unceremoniously plopped down, sighing out in relief once there was no longer any pressure on my ankle. I'd taken some painkillers earlier that morning, but they'd only made me nauseous.
"What's wrong?" I blurted out as he joined me on the bench, somewhat irritated that I hadn't been able to evade him.
My hands instinctively moved to push the straps off my shoulder, pulling on one side until the brown backpack was on my lap, my arms firmly wrapped around it. It was a lot smaller today, but it was still enough of a barrier. The next breath was a bit easier to take.
Then, I finally glanced up, noticing Mason intently staring at my face once more. There was an intimidating storminess present in his cold, blue eyes as he stared me down, but I couldn't look away. "I don't know; you tell me."
"What?"
"Who the hell did that to you?"
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, releasing a forced laugh when I realized he was referring to the bruise on my right cheek. "I tripped."
"With someone's fist?" Mason retorted sarcastically. Then, he reached up hesitantly, leaning forward before grazing his thumb across my cheek. "I'm serious. Did you get into a fight?"
"I've never been in a fight," I lied.
"Then?"
"Are—are you mad at me?" I asked while searching his own face. He did seem irritated, but he stubbornly shook his head in disagreement. "Are you sure?"
"What?" Mason whispered in quiet bewilderment, grumbling under his breath before suddenly shooting up to his feet. I expected him to storm off, but he merely leaned forward to glare at himself in the long window panel hung over the bench.
I dazedly looked up at Mason as he furiously rubbed between his eyebrows, rough fingers wiping away at nothing before rubbing across his forehead as well. He cursed under his breath before sitting back down, yet he looked surprisingly calmer when he turned back to look at me. "No. I'm just—what happened, Bennett? Did someone jump you?"
"Huh? No, nothing like that."
"Don't lie to me, Bennett. I'll kick their fucking ass."
"Mason..."
"I'll do it," Mason muttered, furling his hands into clenched fists. He glanced down at my feet, sighing in annoyance even as he leaned his back against the wall. "You should have taken the day off. You shouldn't be here right now... not like this."
I shrugged, biting back a snarky response about needing the money. He was right, of course. And yet, why couldn't he just mind his business? "I couldn't call off," I offered, which was partly the truth.
Mason's face softened, even as he sighed in displeasure. "Somehow, I knew you'd show up today. I was hoping you wouldn't, but that didn't stop me from waiting... just in case."
I frowned at the implication, nervous to know why he'd been waiting exactly.
"I wanted to, uh, clear up some things... if that's alright," he continued, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. "Okay?"
I grew still, bracing myself for the worst possible scenario. "Oh. Yeah, that's—sure, go ahead," I stammered in response, not even trying to get out of it. My bones felt weary, but dragging myself away from him would probably be more frustrating than dealing with whatever criticism he wanted to throw my way. I already felt like shit, so why not add this too? How much worse could today get, realistically?
Mason released a shaky breath, seemingly bracing himself as well. "I'm not sure what you heard yesterday, but I wasn't... laughing at your expense. Or, at least, I didn't mean to, I swear. I wasn't even—wasn't even, ugh—I wasn't paying attention to what that douchebag was saying, y'know? Don't look at me like that, Bennett; I'm dead serious. I told him to fuck off as soon as I realized he was talking shit about you."
And that... that just didn't make any sense. "You did?" I found myself asking, my heart racing a bit.
"Yeah. I did," he breathed out, forcing a weak smile. "Still. I'm really sorry, dude."
I just blinked up at him, perplexed why someone like Mason was seemingly pleading for my forgiveness in the first place. I tried to focus on the weight of my backpack on my lap, ducking my face behind the top of it in sheer embarrassment. "So, you're not mad at me?" I blurted out, freezing when he suddenly lifted his hand up once more.
His fingertips settled softly against my jaw as he nudged my face to the side, carefully frowning at the blooming bruise across my cheek. And there it was, again, that same sour expression from before. I felt my chest tightening in response, but there was nowhere to hide.
"I can't believe someone did that to you," he proclaimed indignantly, nudging me to tilt my face a bit further to the right. "Also, I'm not—I don't hate you. Please stop thinking that."
Oh.
I looked down at the floor, leaning away from his touch. "I didn't say you did."
"No, but you were wondering, weren't you?" Mason retorted, his hand hovering before suddenly falling to his side.
Well, yeah.
"I—I have class, so..." I suddenly mentioned while glancing over at the door, eager to put some space between us. My mind was furiously reeling trying to process this small interaction. "I should go."
"Not for twenty-five more minutes, you don't," Mason replied after checking his phone.
Which, yeah...
I awkwardly cleared my throat, unable to come up with another excuse. "It's kind of weird that you know my schedule so well," I settled on.
"I'm sorry," he breathed out, but he didn't seem all that remorseful.
I couldn't help the weak chuckle that escaped past my lips. And I almost let myself relax, until I remembered why I'd been so conflicted in the first place. "If you're not mad at me... and you don't hate me..."
"I don't. I already told you, didn't I?"
"Then why did you report me?" I asked warily. It didn't make any sense... if what he was saying was actually true. Or was he just messing with me?
Mason's eyebrows furrowed in response. "What are you talking about?"
I frowned right back, trying to think of who else could've reported me. And in that moment, while lost in thought, I caught a glimpse of Marissa suspiciously glowering at us from behind the desk. She kept sneaking occasional peeks while pretending to scroll through her phone.
And suddenly it all made sense. How hadn't I realized Marissa had been the one to report me? It was so obvious, in hindsight.
That explained why Mr. Phelps hadn't divulged any more information about the second report, likely trying to avoid any more conflict between us. And I would've been so goddamn pissed, really, if it wasn't for the sudden relief that surged through my body at the realization that it hadn't been Mason. That he wasn't angry with me. That he likely didn't despise me as I'd suspected.
"I thought..."
"Stop overthinking so much, then," Mason scolded under his breath, releasing a shaky breath. "I wouldn't do something like that."
And see, I'd wanted to believe that from the start. I did, really. But sometimes when a negative thought wormed its way into my brain and demanded attention, all I could do was submit to its will. Mason was so hard to ignore in general, so I should've known that would also apply to anything that had to do with him.
His dark blue eyes glimmered with an unknown eagerness as they peered directly into mine. I tried to avert my gaze, but something told me that'd say more than my silence.
"I don't know how," I confessed.
"If you don't stop," Mason pointed out once more, pondering on how to convince me before snorting under his breath. "I'll tell all your students you pick your nose... and eat it." He cringed at his own words, probably realizing how ridiculous he sounded.
"You'll ruin my reputation?" I gasped sarcastically.
' He nodded his head firmly, leaning closer. "They'll lose all respect for your authority and orchestrate a coup."
I looked away, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Not treason."
"Yes treason."
"Would that even work?" I questioned, unable to resist the half-smile that found its way onto my face. "They're pretty small. I doubt they could overpower me."
"You're pretty small yourself."
I grumbled. "I'm not."
"I do think they could, though," he confirmed with an odd seriousness, seemingly contemplating the logistics of it before cringing some more. "If they were stacked up on top of each other, they'd be as tall as a skyscraper."
I chuckled as he made a stacking motion and then nodded his head in agreement, wondering why he was even bothering to humor me. As much as I enjoyed his presence, part of me kept waiting for the second shoe to drop. I didn't know what that other shoe was signifying, exactly, but I dreaded it already.
Perhaps I was waiting for him to get bored of me... of whatever was going on between us. I wanted to call it a friendship, but the lack of certainty kept me from feeling like it was anything serious. Hell, I could still vividly picture him getting up and walking away, even if nothing suggested he would.
If anything, he only seemed to get more comfortable as he nudged his shoulder against mine, comfortably settling on the bench. "Let me drive you home today," Mason suggested, to which I immediately shook my head in disagreement.
"No, I—"
"Your ankle still hurts, doesn't it?" Mason questioned with narrowed eyes... as if he'd already thought this whole thing out. "Do you want to worsen your injury, huh?"
"No."
"You should've called off."
I bit the inside of my cheek, wishing that were possible. Yet, between all the bills I needed to pay this month and the fact that calling off would mean arriving home earlier than necessary... No. I'd rather deal with the pain.
"I feel much better, actually," I lied.
"You do? Then, why do you look like you're about to pass out?" Mason asked in complete disbelief. "And there's also that issue with your face."
"That's kinda rude..." I joked.
He snorted while rolling his eyes, nudging me hard enough that I nearly fell off the bench. I gasped as he pulled me back by the arm to keep me in place. "Sorry, sorry," he chuckled while patting my shoulder. "Are you alright?"
"Me? I'm doing great," I muttered while trying to catch my breath, that single shove knocking the air out of me.
"Right," he muttered sarcastically.
I sighed under my breath, surprised by how quick he was to call me out on my bullshit. If I looked exhausted, but that was probably because I hadn't slept. I usually couldn't after those kinds of altercations with my father, even if I really needed to rest. Last night I'd cleaned up the mess and then spent the rest of the night staring at my unlocked door, keeping watch. The few times I've managed to doze off for a few minutes, I'd woken up feeling sluggish and disoriented.
"Just had a lot of homework last night," I explained, realizing he was questioning me. "Not that—it's, uhm..."
It's none of your business.
I wanted to force the words out, but one look at Mason's concerned expression had me hesitantly drifting off. I couldn't say something like that, not when he was worriedly peering down at me and acting like he gave a shit.
"What?" Mason asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I—I need to put my stuff away... and change into my work clothes," I muttered, tapping my hands across the front of my backpack for emphasis. "So, I should go."
Mason glanced over in the general direction of my class, slowly nodding his head before meeting my gaze. "I can wait."
"I have two classes," I pointed out, frowning at him.
Mason sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'll work out in the meantime. Then, I'll meet you back here after your classes end, alright?"
"You... don't have to do that."
"Good luck with your classes," Mason merely replied.
"You're not going to budge, are you?"
He nodded his head, a determined expression on his face.
"Why?" I blurted out, sighing to myself when he shrugged in response. "We barely know each other."
"It doesn't feel like that to me," Mason said before clearing his throat. "Or, do you want me to leave you alone?" Mason asked curiously, eyes widening in anticipation. "Because... yeah. I don't know. I'll go, then... if you want me to."
I pushed myself up to my feet, glancing back at him even as I took small steps back. "I—I didn't mean it like that."
"Then?" he asked, flashing a hopeful smile. And I could've sworn he sounded tense, even though he had no reason to be.
I let out a shaky breath, finding myself smiling back. And it felt genuine, despite the tightness in my chest. "Okay. I'll see you after."
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A/N: Thank you for reading. Please consider voting and commenting; I appreciate it immensely.
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