I perked to attention. “Her birthday’s next month?”
“Yep. She’s going to be the big one-three.” Without waiting for me to lift my arm and show him my wrist, Mason spotted my bracelet and took matters into his own hand, gently wrapping warm fingers around my forearm and lifting it to examine the piece of jewelry draped over the base of my hand. “Mom and I were going to give her a birthday party on the twenty-third if you want to come.”
“Hell, yes, I want to come. And I’ll buy a charm to go on the bracelet as my present to her. Are you going to invite any of her school friends?”
Mason’s good mood immediately soured. He let go of me with me a hard look. “Sarah doesn’t have any friends from school.”
“Jeez, sorry.” I lifted a hand to calm his scowl. “I guess I should’ve worded that differently. What I meant to say was: Are you going to invite any of her classmates?”
The dark fury on his face said hell, no. “Why should we? They never invite her to any of their stupid parties.”
“I know, I know.” I gave a relenting sigh. “But…this is middle school. It’s a really eye-opening time for her. She’s beginning to see how the world works and is realizing how much having no friends sucks. I just think if there was any way to get someone her age to be nice to her, even for an hour-long birthday party, we should at least try to help her adapt to her social peers. I mean, she’s going to be thirteen. That age is the toughest time, I swear.”
Mason blew out a breath, looking reluctant, but he admitted, “No doubt. I hated middle school. Nothing good comes from adolescence.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I playfully bumped my shoulder against his. “You learn where the most painful pimples grow.”
With a grimace, he made a mustache with his index finger. “Right here, under your nose.”
“I know, right.” I laughed. “Most painful place ever.”
“My eyes would always water when I tried to pop them.”
“Uhhmm.” I mimicked a you’re-in-trouble-now sound. “You’re not supposed to pop pimples. Bad Mason.”
His mouth dropped open as he sent me an incredulous gawk. “How you can you not pop them?”
Caving, I nodded and confessed. “Okay, fine. I always had to pop them too.” When we shared another smile, I grew a little too fascinated with staring at his perfect features. I frowned. “I can’t imagine you with acne.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “Trust me. I had my fair share of craters.”
“Well, your skin is flawless now.” I sent him a suddenly suspicious, arch-of-the-eyebrows look. “You exfoliate, don’t you?”
He choked on the sip he was taking. After coughing and wiping a dribble of latte out of the dimple in his chin, he dryly reported, “Yes, you caught me. I put that green crap on my face and cucumbers over my eyes every night.”
“Hey, don’t bash the cucumbers. Those actually work.”
“Wait. You do that?” I’d shocked him yet again.
“What? I’m a girl, aren’t I? It’s like required to try the green mask of beautification at least once in a woman’s life. It’s part of Girly Girl Law or something.” And hey, there was something else I could do with Sarah.
After studying me as if he’d just met a new person, he asked, “Do you eat the cucumbers when you’re done?”
Only Mason, the food vacuum, would ask that.
I made a face. “Eww. No way. What if an eye booger got on them?”
Mason threw his head back and shouted out a laugh. He’d been laughing a lot this morning. I kind of, sort of, totally loved it.
Shaking his head, he gave me a look full of amusement. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever discussed zits and eye boogers with a girl before.”
It was a first time for me to discuss such things with a boy too. Feeling suddenly awkward around him because his words somehow reminded me my hair was a disaster and my face was bare, I hugged my empty latte cup with both hands and glanced around the campus…only to frown.
“Wow. Does it seem unusually quiet all of the sudden?”
Mason checked his wrist. “Shit!” He lurched upright. “I’m late to class.”
“Oh, my God. What time is it?”
“Almost fifteen after.” He jumped to his feet, his messenger bag already slung over his shoulder.
Fifteen after? “No way!” How had I gotten so distracted?
I scrambled for my own bag, and Mason caught my elbow, helping me up even as he snagged it for me. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
He kept pace with me as we rushed toward the entrance of the school.
When he reached out ahead of me to open the door, his fingers lightly cradled the small of my back. The sensation of his hand there sent sparks up my spine and exploded in the base of my skull with blissful fireworks until I experienced a full body throb.
Ignoring the reaction, I started to turn right toward my Brit Lit class when it struck me—I actually had Virology today…in the other building.