Page 203 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I lean my arms on the rail, keeping my head down.

“Yeah, I’ll text you if anything changes.”

“Okay. Be safe!”

The silence takes over as they all leave. It’s just us now, but I don’t look up.

“What’s going on, Mason?” she finally asks. “What was that upstairs?”

I shrug, still avoiding looking at her. “Reality?”

I feel her step closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say, pushing off the railing. “I’m gonna grab another drink.”

She steps in front of me. “No.”

I stop short. “Excuse me?”

“Talk to me,” she says. “You’ve had enough to drink tonight.”

I let out a humorless laugh, getting annoyed. “I don’t need you playing mom to me, and you don’t need to pretend to care.”

Her face falls, and her voice softens. It’s more caring now. “I’m not pretending.”

“I can take care of myself,” I snap. “It’s a party. I’m here to have fun.”

“Is that what this is?” she asks quietly. “Fun?”

I don’t answer.

Her eyes plead with me to just stop, but I can’t. “Mason…the drinking is getting out of hand.”

“Okay, and? We’re in college. Maybe you should say screw the dry semester thing and have a drink yourself. You’re so uptight right now.”

“This is more than just college drinking, Mase.”

I feel the anger starting to spike. Not at her, more at myself, that it’s so obvious to her, that she sees through the mask I normally wear around here.

“I don’t have a drinking problem,” I say flatly.

“Don’t you, though?”

It’s not patronizing; there’s caring in her words…yet I still don’t want them.

I take her chin and lift her face to look at me, willing the words to be stronger than I feel right now. “I’m not. A fucking. Alcoholic. Okay? And I don’t need you pretending like you care.”

“Idocare,” she spits.

For a moment, I almost believe her. Then logic takes over, reminding me where the line was drawn in this relationship from the start.

I huff out a laugh. “Like I said, I’m good.”

She looks like she’s about to cry, and I fucking hate it, hate that I’m doing that to her. “You really don’t think you have a problem, Mase?”

“I have a lot of problems,” I tell her flatly. “Drinking isn’t one of them.”

She shakes her head. “Mason…I don’t think I’ve ever kissed you andnottasted alcohol. In the morning, at night, or in the middle of the fucking day. It’s always there. That’snotjust party shit.”