Apartment No.4

Part 53: Plan of Attack

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"Ashley, I've told you I'm going to handle this on my own." He sighed, continuing with his pizza.

"I know. I know you've said that but this time is different," I rose from my seat and moved to sit on his lap where he welcomed me and watched me with disapproving eyes.

"How is it different?"

"Because this isn't something money can fix like Claire's surgery... and it's me that got you into this mess." I played with his fingers that were resting on my thigh and he gave my waist a tight squeeze.

"This isn't your fault if anything it's mine." He retorted, earning a scoff from me.

"How the hell is this your fault? Doc was coming to me and I made him feel like an idiot." 

"Yeah, but I got sick. This is my fault."

"No, it's my fault."

"No, it's mine."

"Why the hell are we arguing over whose fault it is?" I asked, brushing his hair off his forehead.

"Because we always need something to argue about."

We sat in silence for a little longer before he kicked me off because he wanted to finish off his dinner.

"Listen to me, I really think I'm the only one that can get you out of this. I saw him while I was picking up dinner,"

"You what?" He mumbled through a mouthful of food, his eyes wide.

"I ran into him-"

"With your car?" He replied, rolling his eyes.

"No, I wish, but I - " I took a deep breath and pinched my eyes tight, worried about what his reaction would be. "I told him we broke up and he was pretty pleased with it."

His crust dropped onto the plate with a clink and his chair scraped on the floor as he stood up to move to the kitchen. I followed hot on his heels and continued to explain my madness

"I think if I can speak with him alone and get the truth out of him we could take it to the Dean and show them that he's trying to get you expelled. "

"No." He said monotonously, leaning against the kitchen bench with his shoulders tense. "There's no way you're going to be alone in a room with him. "

"I'm going to record everything we say and if he tries to make a move on me I'll tell him I'm not ready-"

"No, Ashley."

"For God's sake Mason, you don't get to decide this!" Shit. I scared myself. I could feel a months worth of frustration coming out and it even took him by surprise. "Even if you say no I'm going through with this, but I thought I should tell you since I've learned that every other time I've tried to help you, you crack it! And you know what, I'm so done. I'm so so so done. This is what relationships are about, I'm making sacrifices for you because I love you and you can make a sacrifice for me by letting me. I'm not sorry. Not at all."

By the end of my rant, I was panting and I could feel how pink my cheeks were. Mason was still, hardly breathing just watching me with soft eyes and parted lips. He made slow deliberate moves towards me.

"I'm sorry." He cupped my jaw in his big hands. "I'm so sorry that I've made you feel bad for wanting to help me. I need your help, as much as I hate to admit it. Please... help me."

To that, we got on the phone to Mel and Cameron and had them come round so we could hash out our plans.

"Ashley, honey, if you've brought us here to tell us you're pregnant just know that I'm with you one hundred perce-"

"For Christ's sake Mel, stop it with the pregnancy!" I rolled my eyes and shoved her towards the couch.

She giggled and took a seat on the couch next to Cameron and Mason. 

"Guys, I have a plan to get Mason out of this mess with Dr Ross and it's not a pretty plan."

"Are we faking death? Because I've never really been a good actor," Started Cameron who was nodding at a smirking Mason who could see how frustrated I was becoming.

"Can you act like I've duct taped your mouth or should I actually do it?" I flatlined, my lips tight and stoic as he saluted me, zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

"I've told Ross that Mason and I have broken up. Mel, you're going to invite him over to yours for drinks and I'm going to be there. You're going to get a call from Cameron where he is in a pickle and you have to leave right away leaving us alone in your living room."

Everyone except Mason was nodding. He looked so uncomfortable you'd think I was asking him to stand on broken glass for three days.

"I'm going to trash talk Mason and hopefully get the truth out of him. I think if I can ply him with alcohol it will go a lot faster too."

Mel looked excited at the prospect of ruining someone's reputation while Cameron - who might I add, looks like a total badass is actually the biggest softy and is scared of anything and everything. Literally, he jumps when the toaster pops - had his lips pursed.

"Guys! This is to stop Mason from getting expelled!" 

It took a little more convincing to get Cameron to agree - even though all he had to do was call Mel and not even say anything on the other line - and Mason to actually be comfortable enough with the fact I'd be in a room alone with Ross.

It was 1 AM before Mel and Cam had left and in those few hours, we had managed to write up a 'game plan' to an extent, while Mel and I had managed to shut down all of Cameron's Star Wars inspired ideas. 

"Did you get my note?" Asked Mel as she was walking out the door.

"Yeah, and it sounds great! I've got so much to tell you,"  I was looking forward to feeling all the weight of the past few months fall off my shoulders as I discussed it with Mel over margaritas. 

"Me too!" She kissed my cheek and waved at Mason as I closed the door behind them.

"I'm still not sure about this."  Sighed Mason as we got ready for bed, and in the dim light of the bedside lamps, I noticed how dark the shadows under his eyes were.

"I know, but you need to trust me."

"I do trust you, it's him I don't trust." He punched his pillow a few times attempting to mold it into a shape he could get comfy in.

"We can get through a weekend with Amy, we can get through Lucas, we can get through anything.

The next morning, Mel called to let me know that drinks were all set up for next Friday night which I chose not to tell Mason until tonight since he had an in-class bio quiz this morning, and instead chose to continue unpacking from the weekend. 

Once I'd finished sorting through my clothes and was successfully bored, I'd moved to my laptop to check up on the readings I'd missed during the weekend. 

"Mason," I sighed, looking at the eight readings I had for one class, "hurry up and get home."