Fragile: Handle With Care

Fragile: Handle With Care - Chapter Two

Chapter 2

The day Mason told me his name, was the day I smiled the most. Whenever I thought about it, him or that moment, a sudden burst of warmth and happiness would enflame, causing me to grin like a giddy, love struck fool.

It’s been a week since I’ve been to the food pantry, and I was itching to see Mason. I didn’t know how often he dined there, so it was next to useless to wait there. Besides, staking out there was just plain desperate—even though that place screamed desperation.

For a moment, it occurred to me that he could’ve been waiting for me, but I shook that thought aside quickly. First off, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would wait around for a girl. He seemed too…busy. That wasn’t the word I was looking for, but it worked.

Second, I wasn’t really that special. Sure, he told me his name, but for all I know it could’ve been a fake name. He did warn me about being so friendly. Did he just say it because he wanted to torment me by playing mind games? This was driving me crazy. I bet all the other girls didn’t have these kinds of problems—wondering if their crush told them their real name.

I walked self-consciously down the gum and dirt littered sidewalks, trying to ignore the sour and disgusted looks I got from people. I could see it in their faces; they thought they were so much better than me, superior. And appearance-wise, they were.

My jeans were incredibly stiff, from the dirt, no doubt. My shirt had a distinct stench to it, and it wasn’t pleasant. My skin was filthy. I was itching to just take a shower to wash off the thick layer of dirt just lying on my epidermis.

Whenever I walked by someone, I noticed that they would clench their belongings/child(ren) a little bit tighter, which ticked me off and riled my nerves a bit. Just because I wasn’t as clean cut as you didn’t mean I was some kind of criminal. I would never resort to thievery.

I groaned as my face came into contact with the wall of a graffiti-covered brick building. I winced and rubbed my throbbing, and probably red, nose. I’m sure there was a scrape on it; I just hoped that it wasn’t too bad.

The funny thing was that I was daydreaming about him when I rammed into that wall. I’m sure that when my friends were ranting about guys hurting them, they didn’t mean it like this. But then again, I was a special case. I’m sure they wouldn’t be yearning after a guy if they were away from home like this.

I stumbled backwards, blinking rapidly, causing me to bump into something else—or rather, someone else. I twirled around quickly, ready to fire apologies to my victim, but was left speechless. His shaggy, dark brown hair was unmistakable. I don’t think I could ever forget his beautiful, light brown eyes.

The great thing about eyes is that they’re always untarnished. Even if every other part of your body is covered in grime, the eyes still stay as glassy as they were the day you were born. They stayed clear. They had to; they were the windows to the soul, after all.

“Be careful there, Soph,” he laughed lightly, steadying me.

My heart skipped a beat. He recognized me and gave me a nickname? Granted the nickname wasn’t very original, but it was still a nickname nonetheless. “Mason?” I whispered, my eyes dancing and a small smile crossing my face. The thoughts from before came climbing back, causing my cheeks to flush a rosy tint.

He chuckled softly and nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“I—I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. So what are you doing in my territory?”