Chapter 1.3: Mason
It’s Sunday morning, or afternoon I suppose, and I’m stuck inside of school. I stand in front of the gate to Venice High chewing the gum I’ve had all morning. I take my hands out of the pocket of my hoodie and walk inside. I’m greeted with the chatter of around thirty other kids, who all turn to look at me with the clack of the closing gate.
Their gazes send a chill up my spine. I walk over to the crowd as the chatter slowly picks back up.
“Students!” The administrator says. “I’m going to call attendance now, everyone please be quiet!” So, she starts calling names down a list. Followed by students shouting back, Here, they say. Until she gets to my name. “Melanie Corbin?”
“Mason.” I correct, “Mason Corbin.”
She clears her throat, “Hm, yes,” she says as she marks something down on her clipboard. Once she’s finished reading off the list, she instructs up to go inside and find an empty classroom to study in. Some students begin to laugh and joke with their friends, which tells me that most of these kids won’t be studying.
I turn to go find a quiet place to hang around for the next hour–probably a bathroom of sorts–before I hear a voice behind me.
“Hello,” it says, “I’m Florence.” Her voice is soft, I spin around to look at her. She has dark blonde hair put into pigtails that hang over either of her shoulders. Paired with a plaid skirt and a white cardigan, she doesn’t seem the type to be here.
“Mason,” I respond uncomfortably, “Can I help you?”
“I saw you walk in earlier, I was wondering if you’d come study with me?”
I think for a moment, then respond, “Sure, Florence.” So much for a quiet evening.
Once all other students have dispersed, Florence directs for us to head inside. I follow her lead, and we end up on the stairwell. She begins to climb, so I follow suit. I assume we’ll be stopping at the second floor, but Florence continues up.
“Hey,” I say with a confused grin. She stops and turns to look at me, “Where are we going, exactly?”
She gives an unsettling giggle, “To the rooftop, silly.” I reluctantly continue up, quickly matching her pace.
As we reach the top of the stairs, Florence swings open the doors, hitting us with a cold gust of winter wind, revealing a large garden.
“Woah..” I whisper in amazement. My eyes widen as I take in the view.
“Yeah,” I hear Florence’s small voice next to me, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I used to come here with my partner every now and then. She planted these flowers. She graduated last year, so I’ve been maintaining them for her.”
“They’re lovely.” I remark, crouching down next to a purple flower near the doors.
I look over to Florence, who is standing in front of a particularly large rose bush. Her eyes are full of joy, it’s admirable. I stare at her for a while, until she turns to direct us to sit on a bench. It’s located near the fence separating us from the ledge, eerie. I stand and follow her to go sit.
We talk for a while, completely ignoring any responsibilities we may have. Just enjoying eachothers company. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to do that.
“So,” I say, “How’d you wound up here? You don’t really seem like the type to do anything outrageous.”
“You’re right,” She giggles again, “I’m not, just happen to be unlucky. A friend was giving me a piece of gum and we just happened to be seen.”
“Which teacher?”
“Miss Everheart.” She responds, “What about you? Why are you here?”
“A fight.”
“A fight?” She echoes.
“Yeah, some dude called me Melanie to provoke me so I punched him, then that escalated and, well, you know.”
“Oh,” She whispers, “Is he here too?”
“You bet he’s here too,” I chuckle.
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, before I ask, “How come I’ve never seen you before?”
She thinks for a moment, “I’m not sure, probably because we don’t share any classes.”
I click my tongue, “Yeah, that’ll do it,” I laugh.
We sit for a bit longer before we hear the administrator calling all students to the gate over the intercom. We pack our things and head back down the stairs. We run into a few other students on our way, but not as many as I’d expect. I could have sworn more people were here an hour ago.
By the time we’re to the gate, the administrator has started re-taking attendance.
“Melanie Corbin,” she hollers.
“Mason,” I hear someone say, then I look beside me to see Florence with her arm raised. “Mason Corbin.” She corrects. I look at her with extreme amounts of gratitude in my eyes, and hope she doesn’t notice. I feel a smile creep onto my face, and the urge to cry becomes stronger.
“Right,” the administrator says. Whenever she finishes, she sets everyone free to go home.
“So,” Florence says, “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah,” I smile, “I’ll see you.”
With that, we part ways.
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