Page 80 of Game Plan

This couldn’t be. My vision was blurry from sleep. My brain was playing tricks on me. I rubbed my eyes with my fists, trying to wake myself fully, but in vain. It changed nothing.

Perhaps I was right earlier, and this was all a dream. I pinched my thigh, but it only confirmed that what I was seeing was real.

As if he sensed my presence behind him, Mason, who was sitting on the toilet’s closed lid facing the wall, turned his head around slowly until our eyes met. Bare chest, he was wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. His grip around the syringe in his hand loosened, and it hit the tiled floor with a soft thud.

We stared at each other, and tears built up in his eyes.

Neither of us said anything, because really, what could we say?

Matching tears filled my own eyes.

I could read the cocktail of emotions shadowing his face, and I bet some matched mine. Shame. Hurt. Despair. Betrayal. Fury. Sadness. Fear.

With careful steps, I entered the room and squatted down to pick up the syringe at my feet, studying it for a beat, unsure of what to say.

My anger dissolved when I took in Mason’s appearance. Messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, trembling lips, ghostly-white complexion, shaky hands. He looked nothing like the boy I’d spent my evening with, bonding over soup, playlists, and movies.

His shoulders heaved with silent sobs, and a piece of my heart went missing at the sight.

I had no clue how bad it was, but I could tell, by the looks of it, that it might be worse than any scenario running through my head.

Moving to my knees, I positioned myself in front of him between his legs and wrapped my arms around his waist, holding on to him with all I had. His entire body shuddered at the contact. He rested his chin on the top of my head and sobbed against me, wrapping his strong arms around my body and keeping me close to his heart.

For the longest time, we stayed immobile.

It felt so surreal that I really wished I were dreaming the moment.

Mason’s sobs quietened, and my own tears lessened. Pushing myself up onto my knees, I cupped his cheeks with my hands, studying every inch of his face, searching for clues to a reality I wasn’t part of.

“Why?” The single word passed the rim of my lips, breaking the tense silence that had taken us hostage.

Mason tried to turn his head, but I prevented him, not releasing his face. His entire self quivered, but the room was warm, so he couldn’t be cold. I tightened my grip, not releasing him, hoping my warmth would transfer to his body and calm the tremors.

Averting his eyes, Mason stared into the distance. He looked like a scared little kid right now. Gone were the confidence, the masculine stature, the strength. It felt as if only a shadow of him sat before me.

“Talk to me.” Due to the tears I’d cried, my voice sounded like a throaty whisper.

“I-I can’t.” Even his words were shaky.

“We’ve been through this in the past. Don’t keep it all in. Last time, it destroyed us. It killed our friendship and everything we were. Please don’t shut me out. This is important. You are important. To yourself. To me. To your family. To a lot of people.”

He snorted, using the back of his hand to wipe his runny nose.

He appeared so lost right now. And so far away from me.

“If there’s one person who won’t judge you, it’s me. I’ve been through hell and back and kept it all to myself. It was my biggest mistake. I’m aware now. Sorry it took me so long to admit it out loud. Sorry for everything I’ve put you through and for breaking your heart. Sorry for not trusting you with my truth…with my reality and my secrets. I know better now. Don’t act like it’s not a big deal because we both know it is. Much bigger than you realize.”

His body tensed against mine, and he leaned back. I let go of his face and dropped my palms to his knees instead.

Fury replaced his sadness.

“Don’t tell me what to do or not to do. It’s none of your business, Mel. It’s easy for you to say all these things now. But it was much harder when you were suffering, no? You didn’t care about me back then. You couldn’t give a shit about my love or my friendship. I was nothing more than dirty socks under your bed for almost a year. Don’t act all smug and mighty now. I’m the same guy I was back in high school. Why would I matter to you now, huh? Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me when you were the one in the hot seat? It’s presumptuous of you to act as if you know better than I do. Stand up and look at yourself in the mirror because you’re being a hypocrite right now.”

“Stop. You don’t mean any of this. You’re being mean because you’re hurting. Don’t believe for a second you can bullshit a bullshitter.” I lifted one brow at him, trying to remove some of the tension coiled tightly around us. “Mase, I’ve been through this before you. It’s like the roles are reversed. No amount of denying will erase what just happened. All I wanna know is why. Why you felt that putting whatever this is into your body was a smart decision.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Enlighten me then.”