𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝟕

Mason is in the living room, shoving shit into his bag while Summer waits in the car for us. I already know I'm going to have to squeeze into the backseat.

She hasn't talked to me since what happened yesterday, and I don't even know what to say to her.

I mean, I didn't mean to look, but they were right on display. That doesn't at all excuse it or how uncomfortable I made her, but I don't know what else I could have done. Wouldn't she want to know?

In all honesty, I'm not a boob guy. Yay boobs, but I don't think they're something to sexualize. How do I say that to her without bringing up what happened yesterday?

This is hopeless. Why? Because there is no way to discreetly hint at the fact that boobs just don't do it for me if that's the way I want to assure her that what happened wasn't as awkward for me as it was for her.

The very last thing I want is for her to be uncomfortable around me. I want to be able to talk to her without worrying about what she must think of me now.

I release a breath, pulling up my sweatpants a little even though there's no need to. I just need to fidget right now.

"Are you okay?" I hear a voice ask from the living room and I turn my head to find Mason watching me with a curious look creasing his thick brows.

Clearing my throat, I shake my head. "I'm good, man. Just thinking."

"You've been thinking a lot today."

I shrug. "It's hard not to."

His gaze falls back onto his bag. "You and Summer are so alike. You guys worry a lot."

I hum.

I never really imagined that we're anything alike in that kind of sense. I'm not typically a worrier, am I? A part of me likes to think that I'm capable of pushing my thoughts aside like every other male who has never been shown proper affection or been affirmed at all.

"Maybe we've just spent a lot of time together since meeting."

"Nah." He says, rubbing his nose. "Summer's anxiety is a lot of things, but contagious is not one of them.

A small huff of laughter escapes me as he shoulders his bag and grabs the two carriers containing his snakes.

I'm surprised this kid actually carried the whole tank to the car alone. Puberty never did much of "strengthening" for my scrawny little ass. Different for everyone, I guess.

Mason takes his bag and snakes out to the car while I continue to contemplate my life.

If I could, I'd Google this situation and steps on how to get through and over this. All I want is to be her friend, but everything keeps getting in the way. Especially small, random things that I doubt happen to anyone else on earth with years. I could have died without seeing through her shirt. That's how unlikely I bet it is.