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Chapter 8

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I skipped art that morning, mostly because of Mason. Well, totally because of Mason. My logic was that if I didn't come into contact with him, the weird feelings would go away. I was actually pretty annoyed with myself after, because I needed to stop skipping so often. That didn't stop me from skipping physics—my fourth period—as well.

Pathetic, I know.

     I was tempted to skip seventh, but at lunch Marcella threatened to castrate me if I did. Apparently we were turning in the project today; I didn't know why that involved me, they could turn it in on their own. When I argued this to Cella, she didn't budge. .

      As I stepped into drama, my fears were confirmed.

      Instead of that irritation I usually felt when in the same room as Mason, I felt a sort of warm feeling, just like what I'd felt when we were talking alone in the forest. It was accompanied by a little tug in my stomach, a little feeling of attraction. It was nice—pleasant, even.

     I hated it.

Mason's head shot up from where he sat on the other side of the room. His eyes instantly met mine, and that was how I knew he'd felt the same thing. Definitely not a good sign.

I rushed over to my seat, stumbling over the leg of someone else's desk as I went. Unfortunately, the little slip didn't go unnoticed. Kieran Callisto didn't trip.

"Pull yourself together," I mumbled to myself as I plopped down in my seat, looking down in embarrassment. I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to see Marcella leaning over in her seat, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

"You alright, K?" She whispered. "And where've you been all day?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. I wasn't fine. Just talking to Cella, I felt sick to my stomach with guilt. "I just didn't feel like being around your little boy toy," at least that part was true.

"Boyfriend," Mason said pointedly. He didn't spare me a glance, looking straight ahead when he said it. The effect was the same, though—I felt anger swirling through my chest. So he was going to be petty? Two could play at that game.

At least I could still be angry with him. I guess some things never changed. And, hopefully, they never would. I'd had enough change in the past three days to last me a lifetime.

Marcella blushed and smiled nervously. "Yeah, boyfriend," a small giggle accompanied her words, causing me to inwardly roll my eyes. If only she knew the truth about her bae.

I shot Mason a glare, and was actually relieved when he returned it. Maybe ending this whole thing wouldn't be too hard. It was just a kiss, anyways. And, despite the continuing draw to him I felt, my opinions of Mason obviously hadn't changed too drastically.

"And what a splendid boyfriend you are!" I said, coating my voice in sugar. "I mean, just look at him! He's the total package, isn't he?" Alarm sparkled in Mason's eyes, causing my smile to turn to a smirk. "He's cute—ugh, those eyes! And that hair? I just wanna run a hand through it. Not to mention he's tall, tanned, and built like a soccer player. Soccer bodies are just drool-worthy, aren't they?"

The sarcasm was evident in my voice. Mason's neck was starting to turn red. "K...what're you going on about?" Marcella asked, raising an eyebrow.

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