"Mason. Where the hell have you been? And whose car was that?"
I stared at Caleb like he'd just announced he was running for President of Delusion.
Why was he here? After everything he said to me at school—the whole "don't try to infect me with your gay disease" performance—he still had the confidence, the courage, the sheer Olympic-level audacity to show up at my house and interrogate me like I owed him answers?
I didn't say a word. I just walked past him and reached for the door.
Big mistake.
Caleb grabbed my wrist and yanked me back. His fingers tightened like me ignoring him was the real crime of the day.
"Don't just walk away from me, Mason. Why are you ignoring me? I thought we're friends."
Friends?
I looked at him, my mouth literally hanging open. The nerve. The acting. Was he always like this? Had I been blind? Or was I just that desperate to believe in him?
A thousand questions ran laps in my head while I stared at him for a full minute. Then I jerked my hand out of his grip.
"Leave me alone," I said, my voice ice-cold.
Then I proceed to unlock the door and stepped inside. Of course, Caleb followed. Because boundaries? He didn't know her. "You didn't answer my question. Whose vehicle was—" Caleb continued but he suddenly froze, his voice cutting off mid-sentence.
I froze too.
My parents were sitting in the living room. Not just sitting. Waiting. And oh did they look pissed.
And then it hit me. It was 9 p.m.
I had left the house in the morning for school and only just returned. No calls answered. No texts replied.
Oh.
Oh, I was dead.
"Mason, where the hell have you been?!" my father roared. A vein pulsed in his forehead like it was trying to escape. "You were supposed to be home from school hours ago! Where did you go? No calls! No messages! Didn't you see any of ours? Why do you always have to be a headache to your mother and me?!"
Mom gently touched his arm to calm him, but he shrugged her hand off. She shrank instantly, like she always did when his temper flared.
I opened my mouth, scrambling for a believable lie—something smooth, something convincing—something that wouldn't involve explaining Blue Gem, wolves, forest parties, sports cars and emotional destruction.
But before I could even speak, Caleb stepped forward.
"Good evening, sir. Ma'am."
He sounded like a saint applying for canonization.
"This is actually my fault. My uncle was moving houses today. He lives across town. He asked for help, and I begged Mason to come with me. We were packing all day and completely lost track of time. Our phones were in our school bags, and we left them in a corner. We didn't hear them ring. I'm so sorry for worrying you."
He delivered it flawlessly. Calm. Respectful. Detailed.
Honestly? Impressive.
If this were me from this morning, I would've melted. I would've stared at him like he hung the moon and personally supervised the sunrise. I would've thought, Wow. He always saves me.
But I wasn't that Mason anymore. Now I knew better.
His kindness had an on/off switch. And apparently, I only qualified for the "on" setting when it suited him.
My parents, however, swallowed the lie whole.
Especially my father.
"Oh, Caleb, thank goodness," Dad said, instantly softer. "I was so worried. You always spoil him, though. Always speaking up for him. That's why he behaves like a sissy. I wish you'd be tougher on him. Maybe your masculinity will rub off on him."
I felt something in my chest crack.
Dad continued, "You must be tired from all that heavy lifting. Good. Some manly work will do Mason good. Maybe he'll stop baking cakes and think more like a man."
Right.
Because flour is apparently a threat to masculinity.
"You boys can go upstairs and rest."
Caleb smiled his golden-boy smile. "Thank you, sir. Thank you, ma'am. Goodnight."
He grabbed my arm again and led me upstairs like I was a suitcase he'd checked out for the night.
We entered my room. I shut the door.
And then he started again.
"Mason, seriously, where did you go? I waited after recess. After school. I was looking for you everywhere. I thought something happened to you. And then you show up at 9 p.m. in some random sports car? Do you have any idea what I went through today?"
He sounded offended. Like I'd committed a personal crime against him.
I stared at him.
Was he actually pretending? Like he hadn't called me a disease earlier?Like we were fine? Like I was the unreasonable one?
I snapped.
"Get off my back, Caleb! You don't get to call me a gay disease carrier, break my heart, and then stand in my room lecturing me about skipping school like we're friends. News flash—we're not! And if you must know, I went out with my friends. You know—people who can actually stand being around me."
He scoffed.
"Friends? Mason, get real. You and I both know you don't have any friends."
That one stung. Because once upon a time, he was right.
I opened my mouth to fire back something sharp and nasty, but then his expression changed. His eyes widened slightly, like he'd just solved a mystery.
"Ohhh," he said slowly. "Now I get it. I hurt your feelings, so you went somewhere private to cry. Mason, you don't have to lie. I was only looking out for you. As your friend."
His voice softened, almost maternal. Like he was sacrificing himself for my own good. The audacity deserved an award.
I knew denying anything would be pointless. He'd twist it anyway. So I chose the simplest solution.
"Leave."
He blinked. "What?"
"Get out of my house. Get out of my life."
I turned him around, shoved him toward the door, pushed him out, and locked it before he could recover.
He knocked immediately.
"Mason, come on. Open the door. Don't be so sensitive."
Sensitive.
Right.
I ignored him and walked to the bathroom. The shower water hit my skin, hot enough to sting, but not enough to wash the day off.
By the time I came back out, the knocking had stopped.
Silence filled the room.
I opened my mini fridge and grabbed whatever snacks I had—chips, a chocolate bar, something sugary enough to compensate for the emotional starvation of the day. I hadn't eaten anything since morning.
I ate standing up, too tired to care.
Then I collapsed onto my bed, fully dressed, brain buzzing, heart heavy. And within seconds, exhaustion dragged me under.
For the first time all day, everything went quiet.
******
The next morning, I woke up to a text from Caleb.
Caleb: I'll pick you up for school. Meet me outside by 8 a.m.
I stared at it for a long moment. Then I deleted it.
Not replied. Not argued. Just deleted.
Revolutionary behavior, honestly.
I took a shower, letting the cool water wake me up properly, and then stood in front of my closet longer than necessary. For once, I didn't want to look like the soft, harmless version of myself everyone had already decided I was.
I pulled on a fitted black turtleneck that hugged my frame just enough to suggest I possessed shoulders. Over it, I wore a charcoal-gray jacket with sharp lines that made me look slightly more put together than I felt. Slim dark jeans. Clean white sneakers.
Simple.
Intentional.
I styled my hair differently too. Instead of letting it fall into its usual shy fringe, I pushed it back with a bit of product, letting a few strands fall naturally across my forehead. It made my face look sharper. Older.
Less breakable.
I studied myself in the mirror.
Not bad. Still me. Just… upgraded.
I grabbed my bag and went downstairs. Thankfully, only Mom was in the kitchen.
"Good morning, honey," she said sweetly, flipping something in a pan. "How was your night?"
"It was fine," I replied with a small smile, pouring cereal into a bowl.
She glanced at me. "You're not waiting for breakfast?"
I shook my head. "I've got a lot to do today. I need to leave early."
She paused, studying me like mothers do when they sense something is off but don't know how to ask.
"Are you okay, honey?"
"I'm fine," I said quickly, shoveling cereal into my mouth at record speed. I kissed her cheek before she could ask anything else and rushed out the door.
7:30 a.m. I checked my watch and started walking.
All the way to the bus stop.
Because according to my father, I wasn't "man enough" to own a car. He'd made it very clear: until he saw "real changes" in me, I wasn't getting one.
My brother had a car.
My sister used Mom's whenever she wanted.
Me?
Public transportation.
Before, it hadn't bothered me. Caleb used to drive me every morning anyway, so I didn't feel the difference.
Today?
Today it stung.
It hurts in a very specific way when the people who are supposed to love you… don't. Or love you conditionally. Like you're a project they're still debating whether to continue funding.
I got on the bus and stared out the window the entire ride.
When I arrived at school, my eyes immediately searched for Blue.
I told myself it was instinct. Curiosity. Trauma bonding.
Whatever it was, I was looking for him.
Of course, I didn't see him. He wasn't in my class, so that made sense.
I told myself I'd wait until recess. Which was ridiculous.
Yesterday, this man dragged me into the woods, introduced me to his wolf parents, nearly got me killed—technically—and hosted a forest party like it was a Tuesday hobby.
I should have been avoiding him for the rest of my natural life. Instead, I wanted to see him.
Before yesterday, Blue Jeremy terrified me.
Today?
Not so much.
Caleb slid into the seat next to me, looking annoyed.
"Didn't you see my text?" he whispered harshly. "I said I'd pick you up."
I didn't even look at him.
"And didn't you hear me tell you to get out of my life?" I replied, loud enough that the girl in front of us stiffened slightly.
I didn't care.
Heat rose to Caleb's face. He actually looked offended.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Mason?" he snapped quietly. "Can you not take a simple love rejection like a man? People get rejected every day. That doesn't mean you destroy a friendship over it."
My mouth fell open.
Love rejection? That's what he thought this was?
"You ruined our friendship," I shot back. "If we can even call it that. You always thought I was disgusting. You just hid it well. And I was stupid enough to worship you for eight years."
His jaw tightened.
"So don't sit here and pretend this is about rejection. Stay away from me, Caleb. I mean it."
I stood up before he could respond and walked out of the classroom, my heart pounding.
I didn't even realize where I was going until I found myself standing in front of Blue Gem's classroom.
Of course.
First period hadn't started yet, but there were only a few minutes left. I scanned the room.
But to my disappointment, Blue was there.
I considered asking someone; then I remembered I was me. The shy introvert. And high school students smelled vulnerability like sharks smelled blood.
So I backed away and returned to my class.
I still had to sit next to Caleb—assigned seating, because life enjoys irony—but I ignored him completely. He tried to talk twice. I pretended he didn't exist.
Recess came. I went back to Blue's classroom. Still no Blue.
Finally, I forced myself to approach a quiet boy sitting near the window.
"Uh… do you know where Blue is today?"
The boy looked up at me like I'd just asked for classified government information. "He didn't come," he said slowly.
"Oh." I nodded. "Okay."
Didn't come. Of course he didn't.
Why would the most chaotic human I've ever met show up to something as ordinary as school?
I went to lunch. Alone.
Caleb had been right about one thing. I didn't have friends. Not a single one.
I used to think I didn't need them. I'm an introvert. One person was enough. Caleb was enough.
Apparently not.
Now I sat by myself, pushing food around my tray while everyone else laughed in groups, sharing fries, stories, lives.
I'd built my entire social world around one person. And that person had called me a disease.
Every time I remembered his words, something twisted painfully in my chest. I had honestly thought today would feel better. I don't know why.
Maybe I thought yesterday meant something.
Maybe I thought hanging out with Blue—even if it involved wolves and possible death—meant I wasn't alone anymore.
Maybe I was just desperate for someone to choose me. Even if that someone was terrifying. Pathetic isn't it?
I went home after school, still ignoring Caleb's attempts to talk.
Dinner was quiet for me and loud for everyone else.
My brother talked about something impressive he'd done. My sister complained about something dramatic. My dad nodded approvingly at them.
No one asked how I was.
Mom glanced at me once, but she didn't say anything. She knew better. Any attention toward me usually turned into a lecture about what I was doing wrong.
After dinner, I went upstairs silently.
Showered. Cried.
Because apparently showers are my designated emotional breakdown location now.
I got dressed for bed and collapsed onto it, exhausted.
And then I heard it.
Tap.
I froze.
Tap. Tap.
Something small hit my window.
A pebble.
My heart started pounding.
Who throws rocks at second-floor windows at night? Serial killers? Ghosts? Regret?
I slowly stood and walked toward the window, each step cautious.
Another pebble hit the glass. I swallowed and pulled the curtain aside and nearly forgot how to breathe.
Because standing outside my bedroom window was none other than Blue Gem.
Looking up at me.
Smiling.