One broken heart. Two old flames. An unexpected reunion.
Diana Hamilton has spent the last six years trying to leave the girl she was in high school behind. Along with any residual feelings she had for Mason Hayworth, the golden boy who shattered he...
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I have no idea what made him pay attention to me in the first place.
As high school clichés go, he was a pretty good example of the jock that everyone loved. And, because I had spent most of my adolescent years in front of the television, I was an expert on stereotypes. In most teen romances there is a Golden Boy; so good looking he could have stepped off the cover of a Men's Health magazine, excelled at every sport he dared to try and an academic wonder-man whose brain was envied by all.
At my school, that was Mason Hayworth.
And then there was me; awkward, shy and slightly overweight due to my love of all things covered in sugar. Yet another perfect example of a high school cliché. If I had to cast myself, I would fall under the role of the Invisible Girl.
We could have been one of those typical romance movies. Except, real life isn't a movie, and it doesn't always end well.
The first time he ever spoke to me I was so shocked I dropped the books I was carrying. The thud of my dignity landing on the floor beside them rang through my ears. Without missing a beat, Mason stooped down and helped me pick them up.
"It is Diana, isn't it?"
He repeated the same question that had caused us to be in this position in the first place. I was on my hands and knees, red to the roots of my hair. He was crouched down, collecting my books together for me.
My mouth was so dry I could only manage a nod. He smiled at me, and I remember thinking that I really should be wearing sunglasses, or my eyes would be damaged by the perfect whiteness of his teeth. I was surprised that he hadn't been approached yet for appearances in toothpaste commercials.
"It's nice to meet you, Diana."
I refrained from pointing out the fact that we had been going to the same school for some years and had several classes together. Technically, we had met many times, even if it was only in passing. Instead, like a moronic robot, I just nodded again.
He got back up on his feet and held out his hand to me, it took me a moment before I realized he was offering to help me up. Sadly, it wasn't the romantic moment I had always pictured in my dreams.
I took his hand and rose, very un-gracefully to my feet. For the first time ever, I was embarrassed about the extra weight I was carrying around. Especially when I compared it to the muscles that I could see through the thin fabric of his white shirt.
By now I was sure that he must have assumed that I was incapable of speech. Hell, I was starting to wonder myself. So, I swallowed what felt like a piece of popcorn stuck in my throat and whispered, "thanks."
