Louder Than Words (Fall For Me) (10 page)

CHAPTER 27

 
“You moved out?”

Trembling, I’d sought Mason out
first thing when I got to school Monday morning. I’d woken to find he was gone.
That he’d taken all of his stuff. Everything.

He didn’t turn around from his
locker. “I had to.”

My lip quivering, I closed my eyes.
Squeezed them shut tight. “Why?”

Mason shut his locker, finally
looking at me. “You know why.”

I swallowed. “O-kay,” I stammered,
my heart falling to the floor. Shattering. I choked out, “It was my fault. I
know that. I get it.”

I was almost crying, terrified for
once Mason wasn’t going to give me what I wanted. But this time I needed him to
the most. This time, to me, it was life or death.
Because I
couldn’t breathe without Mason.
“I’m sorry, Mason.
So
sorry.” My eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want you to move
out. I want you to move back in.”

He gave me a
sardonic look like
,
I was being dumb
. “Why? So,
I can ogle you and make you uncomfortable in your pajamas?”

My breath hitched. His reality was
obviously completely different than mine. “Just come back. You’re mad. It’s
totally my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Summer, I’m not mad—well,
yeah I’m mad. You were being a tease. You went to that party to mess with me.”

Heat sizzled through me.

I opened my mouth,
then
closed it. Then opened it again, feeling the desperate
need to remind him, “You did all that groping just to prove a point.”

“I did it to prove a point, yeah …
but I liked doing it,
Summer
. I can’t live with you. I
want to make-out with you. I want to kiss you blind.”

THE PRESENT

CHAPTER 28

The day after the Sabrina
fiasco—you know, where she’d been exposed (to the whole school) cheating
on her boyfriend and making-out with Mason—I find myself on a school bus.
One filled with rowdy kids. I’m taking my brand-new little stepbrother, Danny,
on this campout for youth that his dad was supposed to take him to—but
the loser cancelled. (Okay, the “loser”—my new
step
-
dad
[grrr!]—
had
to work, but still. Whatever. Cancelling on his son??
LOSER
.)

 
Danny had been looking forward to the activity. So much. I’m
not a camper.
Even slightly.
But I’m a sucker for my
new little brother’s puppy dog eyes. So, I here I am.
On a
bus.
Going camping.

But THEN! I almost choke on my gum.
‘Cause guess who shows up right before the bus takes off? If you guessed Mason,
you’re right.

Mason had looked shocked when he
saw me on the bus. He tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing together. For a
moment, he just stood there—frozen. But he recovered quickly, asking what
I was doing—going camping with a bunch of kids. He asked it with a little
laugh as he slid into the seat behind Danny and me. Probably the chuckle was
because he knows me—camping is not my thing.

“My stepdad cancelled on Danny, so
I’m filling in,” I explained, though I figured Mason already put all that
together. Things weren’t so easy to figure out on my end though. I mean
,
Mason doesn’t have a little brother.
Or
any siblings—unless you counted me.
Which you
really couldn’t do.
Unless there is such a thing as an
ex-sibling.

I muttered, “I think the better
question is, what are
you
doing here?”

“Civic hours,” Mason answered. “A
punishment from the principal.”

A tiny grin
quirked on his lips.
“Apparently he didn’t quite believe my innocence yesterday.”

I rolled my eyes. “I wonder why
that is?”

He twitched a devilish grin. “I
have no idea. But here I am—going to give kids a lesson on using a
knife.”

The irony danced in his twinkling
eyes as well as in his sardonic voice.

I gaped. “Seriously?”

Okay, the knife usage lesson was
probably only for wood whittling or something, but still. Giving a guy in
anger management
a knife
?—
as punishment? It just seemed wrong.

Mason nodded, still grinning. He
laughed, “And not only a knife—more importantly, the bow and arrow. You
know, in case you can’t use a gun when zombies attack.”

“Or you need to kill a bear,” Danny
said.

Mason playfully mussed Danny’s
hair. “Yeah, important things like that—bears and zombies.”

I dropped my jaw. “You’re going to
teach the kids how to use weapons?”

“Yeah, for
hunting
,” Mason said. “Some campers do that.”

Mason had grown up hunting with his
dad. It was probably the only thing his dad ever taught him—how to kill.

I grumbled. “Eight year olds?”

Mason shrugged. “They have to learn
sometime, I guess. Look, don’t look mad at me. This wasn’t my idea.”

I wasn’t mad.
Of
course.
I was just grouchy.
And still am now.
The minute Mason got on the bus, immediately Danny was in Mason’s lap.
Wonderful. Seeing that, I slumped in my seat. I didn’t want to be stuck with
Mason all weekend watching him be all macho and manly, yet extremely good and
kind and patient with kids.
Groan
. I
wanted to be mad at him. But it was hard, since he kept letting Danny where his
hat and talk his ear off.

Danny loved Mason. And wanted him
to be his brother. Just like me.

But yeah, Danny sitting back there
with Mason—obviously it has me wondering why I’m here. Why didn’t I think
to ask Mason instead? Probably it’s because I’m up to my eyeballs in debt to
him already. Plus, I’m sort of still fighting my hardest to keep my heart
guarded from him.

(You know all the times when I call
Mason “trouble”? What I really mean is trouble to my heart.)

I slump in my seat knowing this is
going to be a very long weekend. First of all—it’s camping. Second of
all, I’m fighting all these raging, confusing feelings for Mason. Third of all,
I can hear Danny chattering away to
Mason
and it’s
ripping up my heart.

Mason and Danny are great buds. Mom
has Mason come over for “family dinner” every Sunday evening. She has ever
since Mason moved out. I refuse to go to the dinners though. On account Mason
broke my heart when he moved out. (I had thrown all of my pride out the window
when I begged him to move back home—but no matter how much I begged and
coaxed, he wouldn’t budge. After that—he was dead to me. Well, I tried to
act that way. It was easier thinking of him as dead, than that he rejected me….
Because I wasn’t used to being rejected … by anyone but my parents. And having
it
be
Mason—no!!! It hurt too much.)

Now I’m trying to keep my heart
completely guarded from him. And the best way to do that is to completely avoid
him. But that’s hard to do when
your
new little
brother is fawning on him … and you’re going to be stuck at a camping site with
him.
For a whole weekend.

Groan!

CHAPTER 29

Almost as soon as we got off the
bus a very horrifying thing happened. I’m just going to skim it … because it
was horrible.

We were following our camp director
and he was leading us to where our campsite would be. But he
lead
us to this rickety bridge.
I mean, it was scary looking.
Old and unsafe.
It was way up high over a river canyon
below.

None of the kids wanted to cross
the bridge. And I didn’t blame them.

The camp director had said,
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Watch. I’ll go first.”

Danny watched for a tiny while. But
the bridge was long. And Danny’s attention span was short.

I followed him as he chased after a
butterfly. Then we heard a loud pop. Then another. Mason grabbed Danny. He
blocked Danny’s view as the whole bridge gave out and the guy plummeted down
the canyon. Dead.

I sat on a big rock and poor Danny
planted his head on my lap and sobbed. I mean, a guy died.
Right
in front of him.
Okay,
Danny hadn’t seen any of it
,
thank goodness
. Mason had led him away to “hunt a
bear.” But still. Whoa.

***

“Summer?”

I heard my name and jerked my head
up. I’m still sitting on the rock. Danny is asleep now with his head in my lap.

I don’t even really know what the
debate is.
Or the choices.
All I know is this is a
nightmare. And I want to get Danny home. But we’re stranded. The bus is long
gone and the bridge is out. And our leader is
dead
. And we have no cell phone reception or a clue where we
are—‘cause, you know, that’s what the leader was for. To
guide
us on this “fun” adventure.

And now there is some sort of vote
taking place. A debate. But I haven’t been paying attention.

I do know that two guys—our
class president, and some other dude that I have never seen before—want
us to camp at two different spots. One guy thinks we should stay here, near the
bridge. The other guy thinks we should camp near the place we had gotten
dropped off.

Now, apparently, it’s my turn to
vote. Yippy.

Everyone’s looking at me. Waiting
for my answer.

I draw out a ragged breath. “I
choose whatever Mason does.”

Mason gives me a look. One I can’t
read. But after that, a lot of people (girls) answer the same as me. Mason is
big and has a knife. Also, I would trust him with my life. Can’t say the same
about Mr. President, or Mr. Stranger.

“Okay,” our class president finally
says with a defeated sigh, “What are you planning to do, Mason?”

“I’m going to camp it out here. No
one told us where to meet tomorrow. But people are going to
be
wanting
the bridge. I mean, the camp is somewhere over there, right?
Someone in charge is going to need the bridge eventually—from over here,
or there.” Mason shrugged. “One way or the other people will end up here.”

***

Okay, you can maybe say I’m full of
myself (I don’t care), but I didn’t like the look Mr. President—
Philip
—was giving me. Or
Stranger-Dude. I wanted my tent as close to Mason’s as possible. But so did
every other girl it seemed and by the time I got around to putting up mine and
Danny’s tent, we were on the outskirts, though I made sure our tent was between
two girls’—and not near some creepy guy’s. (Look, I was almost shoved in
a van once—so most guys are creepy to me … whether I know them or not.)

I didn’t exactly have a clue how to
put together a tent, but Mason was in high demand—what with hunting us up
some dinner—which he was hopefully doing—so I was left to reading
the instructions that came with mine and Danny’s pathetic little tent.

All I’m saying is: Things were not
good.

CHAPTER 30

Once I finally had the tent up, I
let Danny eat the only food we’d brought—some small snack bags of chips
and a candy bar. The camp was supposed to provide all the food—they’d
stressed that in their information packet: ‘
Please
don’t bring food. It will be provided.’
Good thing we had cheated. (Of
course we both now wished we’d cheated more. Way more.)

After Danny ate, he crawled into
the tent and went to sleep. He’d had a long day. Me too. I sat outside our tent
starving to death. To keep my mind off food, I sketched in my sketchbook. Thankfully
I brought it. Otherwise, I don’t know what I would have done.

Everyone else was gathered around
the campfire, praising Mason and his successful hunt. He’d caught two rabbits
and was cooking them now. The dinner smelled good. Mouthwatering even. But it
made me shudder. No way was I going to eat a rabbit.

Mason came over to me once everyone
started eating. He had a prepared plate in his hands—apparently for me.

“Want dinner?” he asked.

Cringing, I shook my head …
though—
gah!!
!
—
my
stomach growled at that precise moment.
Embarrassingly loud.
Giving away the fact I was massively,
totally,
full-on
lying—in case it wasn’t
glaringly obvious by the simple fact we hadn’t eaten since early this morning.

Mason bit back an amused grin.
Well, tried to bite it back. He cleared his throat—(pretty sure to keep
from laughing)—then squatted down beside me.

Another grin crept on his lips as I
grimaced and turned away from the plate of food in his hands.

His eyes twinkled. “Oh, that’s
right,” he said. “You used to have a pet rabbit—huh?”

I did. I’d loved my little bunny,
Velvet, with all of my heart … and Mason knew it.

His voice was gentle and teasing as
he whispered near my ear, “Good thing I caught you a
fish
, huh?”

My heart slammed against my chest.

Gasping, my eyes popped open wide. I
could have hugged him. In fact, I totally,
totally
would have—if I didn’t love him so much.

But as it was I just stammered out,
“Thank you
so
much, Mason!”

His voice and eyes went tender.
“You’re welcome.”

He sat with me while I ate, just
keeping me company and being sweet. But then his eyes latched on to my
sketchbook. He inclined his head with a squint. “Can I see what you’ve been
drawing?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. And ears.
But hesitantly, I nodded.

Reverently, he looked through the
book, raising his eyebrows. Most likely because a lot of the drawings were of
him—well, the ones from today, but even some from before that. They all
had him being this larger-than life character—holding Danny on his
shoulders, or aiming his bow and arrow like a super-hero. In all of them he was
a god.

Silently, Mason handed the
sketchbook back to me with a puzzled look in his eyes. He cleared his throat.
“That’s … flattering,” he murmured.

That was all he said.
For a long time.
Then he said softly, “
Summer
,
I’m just a guy.”

I looked up at him, not exactly
sure what he was getting at—though I kind of knew. I mean, I’d drawn him
over and over as some sort of super natural being—bigger, superior, and
better than anything that could possibly be real.

“It’s like you have me built up in
your head as different—but I’m just a guy.”

I murmured, “Not to me.”

He had saved me so many times in my
life that it was embarrassing. He was anything but “just a guy.”

Mason gazed towards the fire a long
time, then finally his eyes rested back on me. “You see me as different than I
am—you always have. Maybe it’s because I was actually your brother for a
little while.
A brother—but not
just
that.
Whatever it is—I get it. I feel it
towards you too. I always did.”