The Separation Situation: Sequel to The Renovation Complication

1. A Dismal Celebration

Tori

I twiddle with the icing on my cupcake as I feel the familiar panging in my chest.

"If you don't eat that, I will." A voice rings, muffled by her own lunch. I stare across the table at Katherine, whose fair cheeks are bulging with more candy than I think I could stomach. Don't worry, she doesn't always classify gummy bears as a meal.

Apparently today's a special occasion.

"C'mon, Tori," Kasey elbows me lightly from my side, forcing my blank stare to snap to her stormy eyes. "It's your birthday cupcake. You have to eat it."

I stare at the sugary monstrosity. I seem to have lost my appetite. "Do I?" I murmur to no one in particular, far too glum for the girl's liking.

"I will shove it down your throat if I have to." Kat pipes up and Kasey shoots a shocked look at the blonde. I would have thought she'd known Katherine long enough to realise that she wasn't always the sweet Barbie doll she looked like. Especially when it involved food.

"Kat!" Kasey takes a swipe but misses, and I almost snigger at the pair. If I didn't feel like I was going to throw up.

"I'm eating the cupcake!" I drawl defensively, taking a bite that I instantly regret. But I chew anyway. "Don't start the next Spartan War over it."

Kat instantly grins at my cooperation, while Kasey rolls her eyes at my bluntness. But even with the pair by my side, I can't brush off the lasting feeling that there's someone missing.

Mason Donovan.

It's been months since he had to move down to Atlanta for college, but it's only just settled recently. It always felt like he was going to come back, sit beside me and eat his lunch just like any other day. But I guess that wasn't any other day now.

And if Mason's in college then guess where I am?

Stuck in Hansen High, barely two thirds of the way through the first semester of senior year. And let me tell you – it sucks. Everyone says 'it's the best year of your life!' and 'you have so much fun!', but you don't. You struggle to scrape by with C minuses and pray that some college out there is going to have low enough standards to accept you.

I can't wait to graduate. I feel like I'm suffocating here. Of course, I love Katherine and I love Kasey, but my God I cannot wait to get the hell out of here. I can't imagine how people who have lived here their whole lives must feel.

"Isn't it a beautiful day?" Kat waves a hand in front of my face, successfully drowning out my thoughts. Yep, I guess this is how they feel – reduced to commenting about the weather.

"Sure." I raise an eyebrow at her and she gives me a knowing smirk.

"It's not going to be forever you know," There's a little sympathy in her voice that makes my heart sink. I wish she wouldn't bring it up. "Spring Break will be just around the corner and then bam!" She makes a sickeningly loud and horrifying clap with her hands, hazel eyes alight with excitement. "Reunited!"

I throw my head back so that I'm staring at the stained ceiling of the cafeteria, hoping that they'll drop it. Every time we talk about Mason, my chest hurts. I haven't seen him in two months, and even then it was barely for a day, to help his mother move out of their house.

You see, about eighteen months ago, something terrible happened. Something really horrible that I wish I could reverse and smooth over with a butter knife.

Robert Donovan was diagnosed with terminal skin cancer.

Mason always said that it wasn't exactly surprising, as his father had been a carpenter for over twenty years, but I think he was lying. No one ever really expects to lose their mother or father or sister or brother. Which is what happened six months later.

Sally kept candles lit by his picture for months, and Mason says that she only just blew them out when the last box was removed from their empty house. I personally think that she was hoping that it would burn the whole house down, along with all of the ghosts and memories and silent bedsprings.

I guess after Robert was buried, the house wasn't the same. The once warm, humble mahogany themed rooms became eerie and lifeless. They weren't a family anymore, and their home became a few walls with ghosts sleeping between sheets of plaster.

I still remember his funeral clearly, but unlike my mother's, it was colourful. Instead of white lilies, coronations bursting with life draped over a rich wooden box, mocking its contents. It almost made me feel sick in a way I can't describe. It's like Sally tried to resurrect him with every shade of life she could muster, making everyone either compliment or complain.

It's wrong to pretend to be happy while you're staring at a dead body.

"She still thinks he's going to walk through that door at five o'clock one day," Mason scoffed, but I saw straight though his attempts at jokes. Twisted jokes, but jokes nonetheless. I kept telling him that it was okay for him to hurt, but he'd just clench his jaw, staring off into nothingness.

Finally, after the coffin was set and the crowd gave their final condolences, he broke. He crawled into my room that night without either of us saying a word, and fell into my bed.

That was the first time I ever saw Mason cry. It was painful and silent as he ripped out locks of his hair and I just had to sit beside him, no letters, no words strung in sentences that could survive through the thoughts in his head.

Everything was a little dark after that. Mason stopped talking, stopped laughing, stopped stopped stopped everything that made Mason Mason. Every night he would still climb in through my window, laying beside me until I fell asleep. I never knew if he slept or stayed, because he was always gone at dawn. He didn't cry again, which was so much worse.

It took three months for him to kiss me again. Everything got a bit better after that; he inched out of the shadows, smiled more, played more football, got a much needed haircut. But he never slept in his own bed again.

I think he did it so he wouldn't have to lay under a roof that his father built for three. So, he came into my room, which we both initially made for one.

I heard someone finally move in next door last week. A house like that doesn't stay on the market for long, but the new owners took their sweet time initiating the move. I didn't bother seeing who it was; I don't think I could ever see anyone but Mason in that house. I shut my curtains tight when I saw the moving truck a few days ago and haven't opened them since.

Thin arms wrap around my shoulders and I feel another pang of misery. "Be happy, Vic." Kasey chimes in contrast, "You're eighteen! We're supposed to be celebrating, remember? Apparently it's a big number."

A trace of a smile dimly lights my features, but quickly becomes weary. "I don't know, Kase. I don't think I really want to do anything tonight." I meet disappointed hazel and cobalt eyes in earnest. We never planned anything, but I know that they had their hearts set on something 'fun'.

I suppose I'm not exactly feeling very 'fun' today.

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