Sometimes Never (39 page)

             
“Samuel.” Guy and I say at the same time, only mine is a question and Guy’s is all day dreamy.

             
As much as I don’t want to sit home thinking about Mason, I know this is my cue to leave.

             
I stand up, gesturing to my chair. “Here,” I was just leaving. I lean in and kiss Guy’s forehead. “No hospital sex.”

             
He pouts his lip.

             
“Okay. Okay. Maybe a sensual sponge bath,” I suggest. I turn back to Samuel. “You look different with clothes on.”

             
His lips turn up on and his cheeks turn a bright shade of red. Guy snorts with laughter as I walk out the door.

45

Mason

              I have to stop myself from throwing my phone. Hope still won’t answer my calls. I’m going to school tomorrow and making her listen to me.

46

Hope

Mason called me all night until I turned my phone off. When I turned it back on this morning I had four voicemails. I haven’t listened to them yet, but I haven’t deleted them, either, so I know I will. Just not yet.

             
I didn’t tell Jenny and Alec that I was suspended again. I don’t want to put any more on them right now. Maybe I’ll get out and job hunt. My birthday is around the corner and they’ll lose the money the state gives them for fostering me. With the added expense of Guy’s hospital bills, I really need to make sure I’m contributing instead of being a burden.

             
After my shower I dress in my blue sundress and try to pretend I don’t remember this was what I was wearing when Mason and I kissed for the first time.

             
I get hired at the first place I apply. A pizza parlor five minutes from home. I’m surprised, and happy, and annoyed I didn’t do this sooner. I guess it was my open schedule that sold them. I have no social life. No drums. So I told them I could work after school and any time on weekends. The fact I’ll be eighteen in less than two months means I’ll be able to close soon, as well. Another positive I had going for me.

             
A perk for me, all the free pineapple pizza I can eat during scheduled hours. Plus, they have candy machines in the front. I already know where my loose change tips will be going.

             
I’m so excited I practically run into Guy’s room. He’s watching TV and picking at his hospital provided lunch. It looks disgusting and from his less than thrilled appearance I assume it tastes that way as well.

             
“Oh, thank God. I’m bored outta my mind.”

             
“Guess what.” I bounce on my toes, unable to stay still.

             
“You talked to Mason?”

             
I feel like a shriveled up balloon, deflating onto the floor. “No,” I hiss. “I got a job.” All my enthusiasm gone, I plop heavily into the chair beside his bed.

             
“That’s awesome. Where at?”

             
“Nope. Nu-huh. You’ve already squashed my joy. Just forget it.” I prop my head on my fist and glare at him.

             
“Stop sulking and tell me.” He pushes the table on wheels away, ignoring his lunch, and picks up his can of Sprite.

             
“Newton’s Pizza. I start next week,” I tell him with not even half of my earlier elation. “Their uniforms aren’t bad. Black tee shirts, black pants, black baseball cap.”

             
“Because nothing says pizza like emo dress.”

             
“That’s right,” I agree. “Emotional people often eat their feelings away. It makes sense. Speaking of which—” I eye his discarded lunch. “Want me to go get us some food? Something
not
from the hospital?”

             
“God yes. Please.”

             
“All right. Any requests?”

             
“A cheeseburger from anywhere that isn’t here. And a strawberry milkshake.” Guy’s eyes take on that same dreamy look they did when he looked at Samuel. I stifle a laugh.

~***~

              After lunch with Guy, where he found ways to bring up Mason in every other sentence, I decide to go home. I almost pull right back out of the driveway when I see Mason’s car. He’s sitting on the porch steps, his head in his hands. I don’t want my heart to beat faster or my breath to come quicker. I don’t want to want to rush into his arms.

             
I get out and he looks up when I shut the door. He stands quickly and meets me in the yard, holding out the biggest bag of Skittles I have ever seen.

             
I don’t want them.

             
I look away, but I don’t walk away. What does that say about me?

             
“I let you go last night because you were too raw. I didn’t want either of us to say or do anything we might regret.” By which he means me. And by me, I mean when I slapped him. “But I need you to listen to me now.”

             
“No. Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear this right now.
I can’t
hear this. I get it, all right? Your Mom’s moving. You have to go. It’s perfectly logical. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re
leaving me
.”

             
“Stop being mad and listen to me.”

             
“I’m not
mad
, Mason. I am
crushed
. Acting mad makes it easier to deal with than letting it rip me apart.”

             
“Have you cut? Done anything to hurt yourself?”

             
I scoff, but I know it’s a legitimate question. I’m still wearing the sundress, so I do a slow spin, lifting my arms. “No. I’m trying really hard not to do that anymore.” I take a step away. “I have to go.”

             
“You don’t have to go—”

             
I whirl on him. “No.
You
don’t
have
to go. You’re choosing to follow your mom like you always do. I get she’s your mom and if your mom moves, you follow, but you’re eighteen. You don’t
have
to leave. I mean, when will you stop trying to fill a hole that is impossible to fill? You’re not her husband. You’re not Kellin’s dad.” I cover my mouth. I cannot believe I just said that. I didn’t mean any of it.

             
It’s his home. I can’t blame him for wanting to go just because it hurts to lose him. I shouldn’t blame his mom. And I most definitely should never have said that about his dad.

             
“No, I’m not. Because he’s dead. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget that.” He jerks his fingers through his hair.

             
I hate that I could etch so much pain into his features with just a few sentences. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

             
He nods tightly. “I know you didn’t.” He closes his eyes and inhales sharply. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

             
My body goes cold. Tomorrow? I thought I had another day or two. Three if I was lucky.

             
“We’ll talk this out when I get back.”

             
What?
“When you get back?” I want to move closer, but my legs aren’t responding, anchoring me to this spot in the yard.

             
“I’m driving the U-Haul so I can have the time with Kellin. I’ll spend the weekend with them, helping them get settled. Then I’ll be back. Kel’s taking it hard. Losing me and Misty both is shitty, but they’re young, and he can stay with me during school breaks and see her then. He’ll get used to me being here eventually.”

             
“Being here? To stay?” I whisper.

             
Mason takes a step toward me. “I couldn’t leave you. I used some of the money from Dad’s insurance. Put a deposit down on an apartment. Bought a car. I need to pick it up this evening. I signed up for counseling. I thought we could both go.”

             
“Counseling?”

             
“I didn’t think it was fair to ask you to get help for your cutting without me getting help for my anger.”

             
I take a step now. The distance between us just inches. “I need you to spell this out for me, Mason. Slowly.”

             
“Mom thought she could bribe me with Illinois. Still does, actually. I’m sure it won’t take her long to understand I’m serious.” He shakes his head and takes the final step. “When she first told me, I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe I could go and we could try to make it work. But I was suffocating just thinking about it. I spent the last two days getting everything taken care of. As much I as I wanna go back there, I realized it isn’t my home anymore. You are.”

             
“You should’ve told me.”

             
“I needed to be sure I was making the right decision for the right reason.”

             
“You chose me over Illinois?”

             
He pushes his hands into my hair and smiles. “I chose us.” He brings his lips to mine and I swing my arms around him, clinging to him as I return the kiss.

             
I pull back and gaze up at him. “Can I have my Skittles now?”

             
“Depends,” he says quietly.

             
“On?”

             
“You owe me a song,” he reminds me.

             
“Skittles for a love song?” He nods, grinning wide enough to show off the dimple. “Deal.”

Epilogue

Mason

              “Tell me what you can do instead,” I say. This is part of our therapy: think of a healthier way to relieve stress other than harming yourself or others. I thought it was pretty stupid at first, but we’ve turned it into a game, trying to outdo each other. It works surprisingly well—taking my mind off whatever I’m struggling over.

             
Right now Hope’s the one struggling. She’s having a mini panic attack about having to go out on stage. It’s been over three years since she’s hurt herself, but it’s something she still struggles with on occasion.

             
“I could go home and have wild sex with my gorgeous fiancé.” She bats her lashes, grinning, and I’m tempted for half a second.

             
“No,” I say more to myself. “Nice try.” I slip a Jolly Rancher into her hand, hoping it will last until her name’s called. “You’ve worked too hard for this. You need to get out there with your class and get that diploma.”

             
She crinkles her nose and I still think it’s the cutest thing. “They could mail it to me.”

             
“They could, but then I couldn’t take pictures of you.”

             
She bounces on her toes and beams at me. “What if we go home and I let you take pictures of me. You can have full creative control. You can dress me, or not.” She winks. “You can pose me. I’ll even sing while you do it.”

             
Wow. She’s pulling out the big guns. I clear my throat. “That’s evil,” I say, but I can’t seem to put the right amount of heat in my voice. It comes out sounding like she almost has me where she wants me, which she does, but I can’t let her know that. “Your whole family’s here for you. Now come on, give me something real.”

             
Hope sighs, defeated. “I could hug you.”

             
I open my arms. “Sounds good to me.”

             
She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head in my chest, taking a deep breath. I run my fingers through her hair until she pulls away.

             
“Better?”

             
“Better,” she agrees. “Thanks.” I kiss her forehead softly.

             
“I’m going to watch you until you get to your seat, and then I’m going to go back to my seat in the audience. Okay?”

             
“I’m going. You don’t have to watch me.” She turns and I smile.

             
“I like watching you,” I call. “You’ve got an amazing ass.”

             
“You can’t see my ass in this gown, pervert,” she sighs without looking back.

             
I chuckle. She’s right, I can’t see it right now, but I have a good memory. Once she’s seated, I head up to the balcony where Guy’s saving me a spot.