The Mason List (27 page)

Unless I
chose to die of starvation, the mess hall lunch qualified as a necessity.  I
picked the back corner out of view and tried to choke down lasagna.  Dutch and
Darcy walked through the side door, causing my esophagus to constrict on the
large chunk of meat.  They each grabbed a tray and bickered all the way over to
my table. 

Dutch sat
down next to me and leaned into whisper, “I've been thinking about you all
morning.”

I froze,
in silent repulsion, feeling his warm breath float across my cheek.  Darcy
dropped her tray on the other side of the table with a loud thud; a harsh
reminder of how she would react to her dress balled up in a plastic bag under
my bunk. 

“So…  I
hear you have some hot friend visiting and decided not to tell me.”

“He
left.”

“You
teasing bitch!”  She laughed.  “I was getting all, you know, excited.  I would
have
loovvved
something new around here.  Everything seems just a little
used up these days.”

I
struggled not to drop my cup and placed it slowly on the tray.  Any bit of
appetite vanished with thought of Darcy's disease-infested hands touching
Jess.  Out of the corner of my eye, Dutch glared a nonverbal
shut-the-hell-up
in her direction, making it clear Darcy's comment hit the mark.   She flipped
him off.  I guess everyone at Rochellas knew that Dutch finally got me to the
Hatchet House.

That was
the last meal I shared with either of my former summer friends.  Rising thirty
minutes before the rest of the staff, I raced to the mess hall each morning for
a quick breakfast and packed a sandwich for lunch and dinner.  I ate the rest
of my meals alone by the lake.

Chapter 31

When
I was nineteen…

On the
fourth day at school, I walked in a mindless fog back to our apartment located
a few blocks off campus.  Five weeks had passed since my night of self-loathing
destruction.  Five weeks since I’d heard from Jess.  I’d went home to
Sprayberry following the last day of camp, but we missed each other by a few
hours.  His move back to Austin on that particular day, at that particular
time, was intentional.  My best friend had no desire to see me.  For the first
time since I was eight, Jess Mason was completely absent from my life.

My phone
vibrated in the side pocket of my backpack.  Stopping on the sidewalk, I pulled
out the small black box.  My heart sank, seeing another message
not
from
Jess.  Yet, I was surprised by the sender.

Lex
get ur skinny ass online.  Sent u 5 emails. 

I
cringed, seeing my summer name.  I didn’t want texts, emails or any other
contact with those people, but I went ahead and replied to Darcy. 

Ok

Sadie
barely noticed when I entered our apartment.  Our college home was nicer than
the impoverished slums most coeds inhabited to save money for more beer.  All
my contributions were items bought by the Masons, which reminded me of all my
problems. 

In the
new world of apartment living, Sadie’s eccentric tendencies made Martha Stewart
look like a contestant on that hoarders show.  Not that she ever saw an
episode.  Sadie despised reality television; said
the public displays of
ignorance was the downfall of America
.  Her over-zealous, annoying habits
crept into my daily life, causing nothing but added strife to my current
predicament.  Despite her peculiar flaws, she was a good friend; a loyal
friend, even in spite of my stupid actions. 

I sat
down next to Sadie, who was engrossed in news article on her laptop.   Dressed
in a yellow sundress and curls, she looked beautiful as always, even on the
days she got up early for class. 

“Hey
sweetie, how was calculus?”

“Ehh,” I
shrugged.

“Alex,
you can’t flunk.  Your scholarship will be revoked.”

I stared
into the vacant TV screen.  The sarcastic laugh stayed hidden.  It wasn’t much
of a scholarship.  The Masons paid for almost everything when I looked at the
grand total of going to school here. 

“Alex!”

“I’m
going to my classes,” I muttered.

“You have
to do more than just attend class and pretend to be interested.  I know you’re
unhappy but you can’t let it destroy your future.  You need to find something
to motivate you.  There’s a lecture…”

I zoned
out on the cryptic word
lecture
as she continued to speak in animated
fashion.  Jess should be leaving class in fifteen minutes.  I knew his schedule
since we planned a few spaced out slots in the day for coffee.  I should be
with him right now; instead I was getting another self-motivation talk from
Sadie. 

The
burning pain of disappointment stung my chest.  I missed him.  I missed talking
to him.  I missed seeing him.  I missed his irritating, stupid grin.  I wanted
to call Jess so damn bad, it was killing me.  I wanted to tell him I was sorry,
but I just didn’t know how to say it in a way that would make him understand.

“Can I
see your computer?”

“Why?”
Her hazel eyes squinted at me.

 “Because
I’m gonna withdraw from all my classes by sending a giant FU message to my
professors.”

“Alex!”

“Fine.  I
need to check my email.” I groaned.  “I don’t want to get up for my laptop.”

Sadie
rotated the computer on the coffee table in my direction.  Signing into my
account, I read several subject lines from Darcy and a few others from
Rochellas.  Each of the titles seemed to grow more urgent.   Most of them
referenced some website.  Clicking the link, a page came into view, filling the
whole screen with various female names in boxy letters.  I selected the one
labeled Lexie and a video sprang to life.

I
gasped
and then
I choked.

Sadie
pulled the computer around as I stumbled to the kitchen, trying to keep my
stomach contained.  Bits of roast beef sandwich exploded down the side of the
cabinet before I could reach the sink.  It stunk.  It stunk like the rotten
person that lived inside of me.

I clicked
play again; the fifteenth time in three hours.  I studied the girl in the
video.  She looked like a stranger with wild, red hair in someone else’s
dress.  She had a vague, lost stare in her eyes, absent of life.  The video
ended, and I clicked play again for number sixteen. 

I thought
only celebrity bitches, trying to get famous, ended up with a sex tape on the
internet.  Yet there I sat, like a stoned bobble-head, letting Dutch’s nasty
hands and lips maul my skin.  He’d recorded it with his phone while I thought
it just played music that night. 
Damn cell phones! 
Maybe Uncle Frank
was right to hate them.

I clicked
play again for number seventeen.  The video feed sprang to life and I braced
for the sound of sex noises.  I had an overwhelming need to watch it over and
over again as some form of sick, sadistic punishment; every loop through the
video was like a lash to the skin. 

At least
I wasn’t the only pathetic moron who made the cut.  On the other hand, it made
my experience feel even less significant to him.  The page contained twelve
different videos of seven different girls.  I only had one.  However, the
purpose was to vote for best and worst of his
spectacular
summer at
Rochellas. 

I watched
the two that featured Darcy.  One video was filmed on the docks and the other
in New Orleans wearing those hot pink panties.  I recognized a couple of the
other girls in Hatchet House clips; Katelyn, who taught boating, and Sara from
the mess hall staff.  The slut.  No wonder Dutch received double servings of
tater tots.  

I jumped
as my bedroom door flew open, crashing into the wall.  Jess stood in the
doorway.  He was angry. 
He knew.
 I turned the laptop away from his
intimidating stare.

“What are
you doing here?”

“Let me
see it.”

“No.”

“Stop it,
Alex.  You’re gonna show it to me.”  The tone of his words scared the literal
breath from my lungs.  When I didn’t respond, he stormed over to the desk.  He
reached around my shoulder to activate to worst seven minutes of my life.

He saw me
naked.  He saw the things that Dutch was doing to me.  I covered my face with
my hands and pretended it wasn’t happening.  I felt his anger as he stood
behind my chair.  It radiated out from his body with every breath.  He brushed
my shoulder as he reached in front of me and clicked play again. 

My
stomach lurched, hearing those sounds from the video.  I got dizzy and my legs
broke out in clammy goose bumps.  I was going to throw up again.   

“I’ll
take care of it.” I heard the icy tone behind my head.  He walked out of the
room before I could respond.  My legs felt weak as I tried to catch up in the
living room.

“No,” I
whispered.  His back stilled in the apartment doorway and then turned around to
face me.

“What
options do you have?”  Jess’s jaw clenched.  “Why couldn't you’ve just listened
to me?  Did it really matter why I was tellin’ you to stay away from him?”

“Jess,
please, I…”

“Stop! I
don’t wanna hear your excuses.  I’ll just take care of it.  I told you I’d
always have your back.  I meant it, even when you do somethin’ as stupid as
this.”  

“I’m…sorry.” 
My voice shook.  “Please…I…I'm sorry.” I staggered as I tried to covey
something with substance and not just words that trivialized his feelings.  We
needed to talk.  He needed to hear me.  I felt panicked as the situation
slipped out of control. “Please don't…please don’t leave yet.”

“Damn it,
Alex!  I gotta leave.  I can't stand to look at you right now.  All I see is
that dress and that asshole with his hands all over you while you just sit
there like some…some…shit!”  His hand absently clamped his forehead, pushing
the hair back tight on his scalp. “I don't know if I can ever look at you the
same again!”

He hated
me.  He didn’t have to say it.  I saw it in his eyes.  I had to make him
listen.  He couldn’t leave like this again.  “Just wait.  Let me.”

“Explain?
There's nothin’ you can say that will make me understand.  You knew how I felt
and just threw it back in my face.  You don’t care ‘bout us.  So just let me
go.  I'll fix your mess and then I don’t want to see you.” 

His eyes
watched me, cold and lifeless.  I finally knew the frostbite that came from a
Jess Mason freeze out.   It wasn’t a superficial whisk to the skin, but a pain
so deep, the flesh turned black from the inside out.  The joints in my knees
caved, and I slumped to the floor. 

I felt
something on my cheeks.  The tears poured down my face followed by the first
sob. 
I was crying.
  Loosing Jess finally broke me.  On my hands and
knees, clutching the carpet, I stared back at him.  

Jess
didn’t move.  He stayed in the doorway watching me fall apart.  I sucked in a
jagged breath that transcended into an ugly cry.  He looked at me one last time
and then slammed the door shut. 

“I'm
sss…sorry Jess.  I…I’m ssoo sorry.”  Snot dripped down my lips as I waited,
knowing he wouldn’t come back.  Sadie put her arms around my shoulders.

“Alex, I
didn’t mean for this to happen.  I didn’t know what else to do.  Someone has to
make Dutch take down that horrible video.”

“He
ha…hates me.”

“You have
a bond with Jess that is different than most people.  It’s strong.  I know it
hurts but you have to give him some time, sweetie.  He's just in shock right
now.”

“I
g…g…gave him t…time.”  I could barely talk, causing the words to be half
syllable gibberish. “It m…made it w…worse.  All…my fault.”

“Don't
talk.  Just let it out, ok.  You need this.  You need to feel your emotions for
a change.  Grieve, Alex.  You have to at some point.  Stop bottling it up until
you explode.  All you’ll get is a catastrophic mess and more problems.”

Sadie
pulled me up from the floor and I stumbled over to the couch.  She covered my
shaking body with a blanket.  I used the stupid, red, flowered quilt, a gift
from Mrs. Mason, to wipe the crud running from my nose.  Somewhere during the
evening, the darkness brought mercy, and I drifted off to sleep.

I stayed
in bed the next day.  Around two o'clock, I got a text.  My feet kicked the
covers up and I scrambled to my desk.  The screen displayed a simple, terse
statement lacking anything familiar.

 It's
done.

I tear
rolled down my cheek.  Flicking on my laptop, I hit the page Dutch so artfully
constructed as his anthology to those he literally screwed over.  The white
screen glowed,
Page Not Found
.  I quickly texted a reply.