I bit my lip in angst. Mason was two years older than me and the only person I’d known my entire life. He was from the same town as me. I guess the one good thing Wanda ever did was introduce the two of us when we were kids.

Mason was a great guy whose life was similar to mine. His mother, Payton, was just as sleazy and cold as Aunt Wanda. They were great friends because they were both cut from the same cloth. In the old days, they’d paired up and did all kinds of things together. It was only when Payton gave birth to Mason that their friendship took a turn. Payton had tried to be a good person—or, at least, better. But that ended as soon as Mason’s dad cheated on her. It didn’t take long for her to return to her old ways.

Mason didn’t have the heart to ditch his mom. He looked past everything she did and stuck with her through one crazy thing after another.

Part of me understood why he did. The other part of me never would. I’d never loved anything or anyone, and I’d probably never know when I did, either.

I gathered my things, jumping out of the truck. Aunt Wanda stretched. I glanced at the motel, scanning the shiny gold numbers on the red doors.

Seconds later, a door flew open, and there was Mason coming to greet us. He crushed me with his towering frame. He made it over six feet by a couple inches. I always felt so small when I was around him. He wrapped his arms around me and picked me up into a huge bear hug. I waited until he placed me back on my feet to wrap my arms around him.

“You’re still skinny,” I teased. He’d always prided himself on staying healthy.

He poked me in the ribs, messing up my hair, laying it on thick before he grew serious.

“How was the drive here with the crazy lady?” he asked, his hand covering his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparkling as he laughed. He was a one-of-a-kind type of guy.

“Long and long, what else is there to say?” I said, letting him take my bag.

Mason had an olive complexion just like his Puerto Rican father. He got his light eyes from his mom. They were green and very noticeable with his dark skin. He had a head full of curly, dark brown hair. It was shaggy and sometimes had a life of its own. There were times I thought he should cut it, but he always countered my argument with “that’s the style.” Both his personality and hairstyle carried a sixties kind of vibe. He’d have fit in well back then.

Aunt Wanda and Payton were playing catch-up at the door—probably discussing their latest crime sprees.

Mason made his way past the two of them, going inside the small motel room. He tossed my bag on the floor.

Payton stopped talking. She glanced in my direction and then at Mason. He dove onto the bed.

“Don’t be getting comfortable. I told you I want to sleep,” she griped. He stopped what he was doing, flashing a big smile at her. She rolled her eyes and went back to talking to Wanda.

“Do you want to get something to eat and catch up?” he asked.

I sat down and looked at him, the light stubble on his face, the dark eyebrows, and the crazy hair. I had forgotten how much I missed seeing a familiar face.

“I’m not really in the mood to go out, if you get my drift,” I said softly. He nodded, understanding what I was referring to. It was a regular thing for him as well.

“Mason, go get a room so you can get the hell off of my bed,” Payton said.

Aunt Wanda put her things down. I studied the room, realizing they were sharing it. This meant they had something up their sleeves.

“Go get something to eat and a room. I don’t know how long we’ll be here.” She sat down with a groan.

I took the money, and Mason touched my arm, ready to go.

Wanda and Payton rolled their eyes.

“Mason, will you let her breathe? You act like you’ve never seen her before,” Payton said, lighting up a cigarette.

He shook his head, his countenance falling.

I followed him outside.

“Does it ever get easier?” I asked him. I didn’t know how he could take the nit-picking all the time.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard all my life. It’s the people who don’t act like that that scare me.” He laughed.

He smiled as he opened the door for me. The woman at the counter looked up. I turned away, pretending I needed a map from the rack.

“I just need a room please, ma’am,” Mason said, slapping down his own money.

“Single bed or double?” she asked.

I twirled the old rack of maps trying to remain calm. Moments like these were uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Double,” he said quickly. He touched my back, letting me know we were fine. I sighed and my stomach filled with knots. It always scared me.

“She is none the wiser. No one is looking for you. Relax.” He took my hand. I nodded, feeling protected once the door was shut and we were in the room.

Mason turned on the TV and sat down on the bed. I took off my shoes and did the same. This was the moment I had been waiting for. The moment I could just lie down and relax.

“I’m glad you guys came,” he said.

“Me too. I don’t get to see you much anymore.” I frowned. He took me by the chin, trying to get me to smile. I gave him a look, but it was hardly a smile.

“Come on, I know it’s not that often, but we are here now aren’t we? So tell me how everything has been.” He turned to face me.

“Hard. Things are hard. We were at some drug dealer’s house and Wanda went batty again. I swear I have an ulcer, it’s nuts.” I rubbed my palm into my forehead, stressed beyond words as I stared up at the ceiling. Mason inched closer and planted a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Try to forget about it for right now. Let’s just get some sleep,” he told me. He kissed my cheek over and over. I touched his hair, slipping my fingers through it. He smiled, softly pressing his lips against mine, his hand finding the side of my face.

“Close your eyes. Get some rest. I’m right here, okay?” He searched my eyes. I nodded, letting him kiss me again. This time more intensely. My heart sped up and stayed that way until it ended.

He wrapped his arms around me, his body molding to mine. We both fell asleep.

 

JUNE 17

TH

 

MY EYES FLUTTERED below my heavy lids. I could feel the sun on my skin as it shined through the window. I tried to stay asleep, but it was no use.

“Good morning,” Mason said from his chair by the window. He was showered and dressed. I stuck an arm out from under the comforter giving a good stretch.

Mason smiled. He was waiting for me to say I felt better.

“Good morning, Mason,” I said, giving a small smile. I smoothed my hair, sitting up.

Mason jumped up, grabbing a brown bag on the table. He rifled through it, pulling out orange juice and a white Styrofoam container. He handed it over, sitting down beside me on the bed.

“I got you breakfast,” he said.

I popped open the lid. There was French toast with fresh strawberries along with scrambled eggs. I smiled bigger this time. He had remembered my favorite foods.

Mason was a good guy. He had a big heart—a kind heart. But, like everyone else I’d ever met, people surprised you all the time. He was involved in a lot of shady things with his mother. She’d made him into the kind of person she needed.

“Get dressed and we can go for a walk,” he said, turning on the TV. He sprawled across the bed, caught up in what was on. I looked around the room. It surprised me that anyone could be so calm when their life was so dreadful.

***

Mason made sure everything was all right before we headed out. I held his hand, looking at Payton’s motel door to make sure they didn’t know we were leaving. We both knew they wouldn’t be happy we were walking around. We were supposed to lay low, to be invisible at all times.