I spent all night tossing and turning, replaying the morning before in my head. 

I was trying to remember catching glimpses of smirks on Mason's face as he watched me crumble. Trying to find all the signs I missed that I was being taken for a fool. 

I fell further down the rabbit hole than Alice could in her dizziest daydream as I began adding words that were never a part of the conversation to make the whole thing make sense.

But I just couldn't get the math to add up.

Everything he said to me is a stuck record in my ears - his apology, him asking permission to hold me because he's realised I could be jumpy, the blanket he brought me and the part that stings most being the way he acting so sincere about my Mom, complimenting her and consoling me as I longed for her. 

All of it was him pulling the wall over my eyes, showing me just enough of the heart that mine used to beat for - all for him to rip it away with 3 cowardly text messages that I bet he was sickeningly proud of.

The girls know something's up after I bailed on movie day and holed myself up in my bed, not returning to civilisation until this moment.

Because this is the moment when I make my choice. 

I decide here and now that Mason Jennings is officially a ghost to me. So when people get curious about the girl who has his unwanted attention and ask me questions, I have simple replies to give.

So why does he hate you? - Who would hate me? I'm a hoot.

Are you guys, like fuckbuddies? - Excuse me whose whore are you accusing me of being?

What's the deal with you and Mason? - Sorry I don't know anyone with that god awful name. Poor fella, his parents must have been real jerks to name their kid that.

The fact that his parents are actually jerks is pretty fitting. I wonder if they'd be proud to know their son turned out to be just as vile as them.

The truth about bullies like Mason is they crave attention. They aren't interesting or likeable enough to get it on their own so they make spectacles of others to make their presence known. Who cares if they're hated or feared? They have people's curiosity about where they'll strike next and it fuels their otherwise empty existence. If they focus on other people's mistakes and flaws, they don't have enough time to tumble into their own pit of self-hatred and doubt. They need the power as much as they need oxygen to breath and it's just so much easier to announce the ugly in others with a thick layer of fake beauty covering their own.

And so to beat Mason, all I have to do is what I wanted to in the first place - ignore his brown hair and hazel eyes were every a part of my life. I'll starve him of the dominance he demands because he believes I stole his control from him all those years ago.

I'll play his game better than him and leave him as the one sobbing down by the river - except they'll be no one offering to hold him. Why? Because the only person who had a hope of understanding him gave up on salvaging his soul the moment he sent those texts.

Since I've been up all night I beat my alarm and give myself longer to enjoy a steaming shower, staring into space the entire time as I carefully arrange the ice shards into a cage around my heart. 

What good did having one ever do for me anyway?

I think everyone would expect me to throw a tantrum. Scream at him while crying over his immediate breach of the sliver trust I offered to him yesterday - but I feel too numb to channel the rage induced outburst his actions warrant. If I keep my feelings out of the equation, they can't get hurt - so I tell myself feel nothing.

You're exactly the liar he said you are.

Maybe - but I'd rather lie to myself than let him share in any more of my truth.

So I ice the world out as I dry hair and body on auto-pilot, throwing on light blue mom jeans along with a black tank top and oversized chequered shirt once I'm finished. 

I'm half way through my mug of coffee when Kate emerges from our room, now ready for her own class and eyeing my warily.

She sits on a barstool and braves the questions I know they were all whispering after I never returned to the living room yesterday, "What happened when you went to get changed last night?"

"Nothing happened." I reply, taking another sip of coffee that could be burning my tongue for all I care.

"How long are we going to do this back and forth before you spill? Just gimme a ball-park time frame so I know whether we're doing this now or after class" she huffs.

"There's nothing to spill. I'm fine." I reply, my tone neutral.

"Tell that to your eyes. They look ready to shoot lasers at the first person who pisses you off today." she retorts and I chuckle, sliding a mug of coffee over to her as I place mine in the sink.

"Then no one better piss me off. Wouldn't want to deal with the mess my 'laser eyes' cause." I reply sarcastically.

I grab my bag from on the floor beside me and hastily stride out of the apartment, ignoring her yells claiming she was supposed to drive me today.

I need to walk to lecture hall B. I need to burn on the adrenaline pumping aggressively through my body because if I saw Mason right now, the ice would crack and my plan would go to shit. There's no way I wouldn't snap with how consumed I am by thoughts of everything I want to spit in his face.

Hell maybe I should see him - give everyone a final show before he's officially dead to me.

~~~~~

My sports medicine lecture is relatively painless - not that I actually managed to pay attention to anything that was said.

At one point I unconsciously squeezed my pen so hard remembering Mason's quip about my momentary affinity for tadpoles, I cracked the plastic of my pen and the girl next to me not so subtly moved two rows behind me. 

Become the campus crazy chick: Check 

As soon as we're dismissed I shove the laptop that came as part of my scholarship in my bag and make a beeline for the door. This just so happens to be the class I share with several hockey player, most notably (and irritatingly) including Samuel Porter who's been shooting me unsettled glances since the moment I sat down.

Needless to say I'm not in for a repeat of his 'snatch and lecture' technique today so I haul ass out of the class before he can gloat that Mason and I talking was a good thing. Maybe he'll even try to defend him and say those texts were a moment of weakness because he was scared about 'letting me in' or some other bullshit sandwich of an excuse. 

Mason should learn to fight his own battles. It's damn right pathetic that Sam does all the work for him.

I'm so wrapped up in avoiding Saint Sam that I faceplant into a wall. Except this wall rather oddly has hands that shoot out to catch up before I ricochet back like a bouncy ball and land on my ass.

"Pretty sure the terms of our truce include physical acts of aggression Lex." the smug bastard chuckles.

I scoff and barge past him, purposely swinging my bag onto my shoulder in such a way that the corner of my laptop smacks him in his gut. 

"Um ow?" he says as if I should be apologetic for hitting him and he stumbles a step back from me. 

"Oops, sorry" I say with more pride than sincerity, "Wouldn't want you to end up damaged goods like me."

"Woah woah woah" he says jogging after me, "Where did that come from?"

"It's fine Mason, I get it. I'm too damaged for your human decency." 

Keep your cool Lexi. 

"Ok I'm going to need you to back a couple hundred steps up, flick off the bitch switch and tell me what the fuck is happening right now?"

He's blocking my path now and staring at me with a mixture of confusion and amusement. Of course he's enjoying this.

"Dense isn't a good look for you Mason." I bite, "I got your message loud and clear Mason. You should be proud, you got me hook, line and sinker. Really had me believing you had cared even just a little bit about me."

"Did I dream yesterday?" he accuses.

"I wouldn't know. Any time spent with you is more of a nightmare for me." I retort.

Mason frowned and then violently shook his head. He stuck his hand out to me and plastered a bright smile on his face, "Hi, I'm Homer Simpson. Welcome to Springfield."

Um... what the shit?

I give him an unblinking stare suitable for emphasising the mad man he is.

He retracted his hand an furrows his brow, "Oh sorry did I misinterpret the situation? I thought we were saying things that make no fucking sense."

"Why am I not surprised you're making a joke out of this?" I scoff.

"How can I make a joke when I haven't the foggiest what happened between yesterday morning and right now?"

Don't bite Lexi, don't bite.

"What happened?!" I snarl, shoving him away from me, "What happened was you waiting all of an hour to prove to me that you're exactly who I thought you were. You're a cruel-" Shove "egotistical" Shove "heartless" Shove "prick who took my misery that I stupidly let you see yesterday as a baseball bat to metaphorically beat the shit out of me with."

You bit.

Am I surprised it took less than 5 minutes in his company for me to erupt? Nope.

To be honest I'm a little shellshocked I didn't knee him in the man-berries as soon as I realised it was his 6 pack I'd stormed into.

I couldn't help myself as I listened to him play innocent. I didn't even care if people were staring and he was getting exactly the attention he wanted. He deserved to drown in the venom I intended to spew in his direction.

But it was like he hadn't go the memo that we were back to our mortal enemies era because he was looking at me like I'd double looped round the twist.

"What baseball bat? Lexi I haven't spoken to you or done anything that could possibly be aimed at you since you got out the truck yesterday." He sounded exasperated. 

Not much fun being called out is it Mason?

"Right, because you definitely didn't text me and put money in my account so I didn't have to smell like a dead woman anymore." I snapped, cringing at the crude reference to my mother as it barrelled out of my mouth.

Mason's posture morphed from someone who was confused to that of a person thoroughly pissed off as the penny seemed to drop.

"So this is how you're getting out of it?" he barked back.

"Getting out of what?" I demanded.

"You know you could just say you got cold feet about our deal. You don't have to create some delusion about me to make me the bad guy here. I get it's easier for you to blame someone else for your problems but I didn't do shit Lexi."

"The only delusional person here is you Mason acting like you didn't send me pity money for a new perfume." I spit, storming past him before turning back sharply, "Oh sorry my mistake. I believe you actual statement was that I should get a new 'scent'. Apparently mine is too," I wiggle my fingers in front my face like all the rich snobs do in reality TV when they're describing the inspiration for their latest fashion design, "... le'death for your taste."

"I knew you'd back out." he scoffs, "You just can't bare to let me in can you? Even when I've been more than accommodating on my side of the deal."

"There is no deal Mason. Stop pretending you coming to find me yesterday was anything more than a re-con mission for your insult bank."

"That's what you think I wanted from you?!" He yells, attracting yet more curious stares from passing students.

We should really learn to have our spats indoors more often, away from prying, gossip hungry eyes.

I walk right into is personal space, snapping like a lollypop stick in a toddler's greedy little fist, "I don't Mason. What do you want from me?"

He doesn't have a reply - no smart comeback or sharp dig. He just looks at me like he wants everything and nothing all at once.

I scoff and try to walk away from him, "Just leave me alone Mason. You've done enough."

But I don't get more than 4 steps before he's blocking my path once again.

"No. You're going to explain yourself right here, right now." he demands.

"I have nothing to say to you"

"Well you had plenty to say a minute ago so just keep going, you seem to be on a roll and I wouldn't want you to feel pent up."

"Let me leave Mason" I grunt, attempting and failing to side step around him.

"Not until you start making sense."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Like hell don't you but for now I'll settle for you telling me what I want to know about this situation only."

"No"

"Clammed up under pressure have we?" he taunted.

"Piss off Mason."

"Tell me what I want to know. You can't fuck with me like this and then walk away."

Any sense of cool I was trying desperately to keep hold of floats like a helium balloon from my grasp - or rather I bursts with a bang loud enough to wake the gods themselves.

"You what I think you want Mason?!" I sneer, glaring up at him "I think you want me to cry for you but I'm not giving you another fucking tear. Lord knows I've spilt enough of them for you, over you and especially because of you. I think you want to pull me apart like a rag doll and put me back together with stuffing in the wrong place, buttons where my eyes should be with feet for hands and hair for a dress. I don't think you'll be satisfied until I've turned myself inside out trying to make sense of how my life ended up here, at the mercy of the boy who once meant more to me than my own sister."

"Lexi –"

"But maybe that still won't be enough for you. Maybe you truly want to see me shatter into too many pieces to glue myself back together," I scoff again, the noise clouded with a sob that also escapes, "like you haven't seen enough yet to know I'm already broken."

I can't stop once I start. Every part of me is crying out, begging for the release of my fears and thoughts. I'm not even sure they're all about Mason. I'm just terrified of the fact that I know no one could break me like he could. Even Derrick could've quite suck all the joy from my life...

That's when my sickest thought of all rears its ugly head and runs off my tongue before I can swallow it down.

"Or are you even worse than that? Is this whole thing about you getting what you think you're owed in the most intimate, soul destroying way?" I get so close to Mason's face that I can feel his harsh breathing on my cheek as I whisper sinisterly to him, "Do you want my innocence? You want what you think should've been yours? Do you think taking it would finally mean I was hurting more than you? Well too fucking bad, you can't steal what's already been stolen."

I see the alarm widen his eyes as he tries to decipher my words and I can feel the horror morphing across my own features as I realise what I just admitted to in my haste to make him feel as guilty as possible.

I don't think. I just run.

I run away as he yells my name and eventually gives up on chasing me.

I run away from the big fucking problem I just created.

Just like I always do.

~~~~~

Author's Note:

Yet another chapter that took on a mind of its own!

I stopped here because I want the next part to be a Mason POV!

I'll get it out asap - being a full time student isn't helpful atm.

Love you all and looking forward to sharing 18 ;)