Me: I am super tired, thank you very much.
Mason: Better head to bed then.
Me: Well then, I’d be a shitty best friend because we don’t skip out on movie night.
Mason: Technically, you’re not. I’ll still be here.
Me: Yeah, but I would know that I wasn’t, and I don’t think I could live with that.
Mason: You’re being dramatic, Daph. Just go to bed if you’re tired and get some rest.
Me: Don’t tell me what to do. Now I’m not tired anymore.
Mason: Of course not, ha-ha
I slam my phone down on the blanket and focus back on the movie, right as Hilary Duff’s character is reading the quote on the wall of her dad’s diner after the guitar falls.
Maeve starts quoting Babe Ruth’s famous line.
But when Mason doesn’t do it with her, like I normally would, her gaze whips to Mason. “You missed it!” She lifts her hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
Mason laughs. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Just feeling kind of out of it tonight, I think. Not likemyself.”
He winks at me when Maeve looks away, and I roll my eyes.
He’s so stupid.
She throws her arm over him and snuggles into his side, and a pang of unexpected jealousy shoots through me.
I know that’s not Mason’s body, and I know that Maeve is his sister. I’m stupid for even feeling that way at all when it comes to him.
We tune back into the movie, getting lost in the story. When the climax of the movie finally hits, Sam and Austin kiss on the bleachers, and a drop of rain hits his tan cheek, that annoying chest pain returns, and I can’t help but look over at Mason.
My hand flies to my mouth to stifle the giggle from breaking free.
Maeve is passed out and drooling on his shoulder, and Mason is staring right at me.
He presses his lips together and fights his smile as he glances over at her.
I whisper over to him, “She does that to me all the time. Just gently ease her down on the couch.”
Carefully, he moves their popcorn bowls and phones, setting them quietly on the coffee table.
Incredibly slowly, he slides out from beneath her and lowers her to the couch, resting her head on a throw pillow. Standingup, I grab my blanket and drape it over her, tucking her in. Retrieving a different blanket from the basket of them next to the TV stand, I wrap it around my shoulders.
Mason looks at me patiently, waiting for whatever my next move will be.
I jut my head toward the back door, suggesting the place that has gradually become our spot—the back porch swing. He nods and follows me outside, sitting directly next to me.
The sky is clear tonight, all of the stars in plain view, glowing overhead with not a cloud in sight. The temperature is perfect with the smallest amount of cool wind coming off of the water.
I’m really starting to wish that we didn’t have to move out of this place after this school year.
“What’re you thinking?” he asks, bumping his shoulder with mine.
Rocking us gently back and forth, I continue to stare at the lake over the wooden railing of the deck. “I just love it here. It’s peaceful. And I wish we could stay here.”
“What do you mean?”
