Young Writers Society

Mason

I stared at the faded posters plastered on every shop window along the boulevard. Faces of the three main-party candidates sneered back at me. I switched my gaze back to the pavement and carried on walking. Although the sun was barely disappearing behind the horizon, I saw the flicker of an old streetlight switching on out of the corner of my eye, casting a faint green glow onto the surroundings.

Not focusing entirely on where I was going, I was snapped out of my thoughts by a shove from a stocky middle-aged man. Scowling at him, I realised what he was doing. One by one, the election posters were ripped from the wall, and they were hastily replaced by the sharp glare of Carson Buckley, each proclaiming a supposedly inspiring message to the public. I glanced at the poster nearest to me, stark red, black and blue in the setting sun, posing the question “What are YOU doing for the greater Great Britain?” I didn’t have a silent reply.

I carried on walking before I could stop to really think about the question too deeply, my black, tired brogues dragging along the worn pavement. I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my mobile phone, which was vibrating violently against my leg. I had barely clicked the button before Alyssa’s voice reached my ear: “Mason Turner! Where are you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago! Father’s getting cranky – you know what he’s like!”

“Lyss! Breathe! I’ll be at yours in five seconds; I’m on your street right now!” I clicked the button to end the call before she could snap back that she knew I was lying. Okay, a small white lie to save my skin. I picked up the pace considerably and jogged down two streets before rounding the corner into a street lined with the most up-market homes you could buy in Crawley. Walking down Burne Street, I always felt self-conscious. If Alyssa wasn’t my best friend, I don’t think I’d ever walk down alone. Everyone that walked past knew you weren’t from around there, and that was all that they needed to know. A couple of passers-by glared at the back of my head, I could feel their eyes burning holes into my skull.

I took a moment to glance around me, trying to throw off the feeling of constantly being watched. Large white-brick houses loomed over me, perfectly kept gardens of lush green grass and blooming flowers jutted out to reach the street. Through the parted curtains I occasionally saw families sitting down and enjoying a meal, the father glancing over the evening paper, the mother fussing over her son’s dirty shirt or unkempt hair. My walking had slowed down as I took in the scene, until I nearly stood still on the quiet pavement, the evening light dragging my shadow out behind me, reminding me where I was supposed to be. I started walking hurriedly again, Lyss’ voice echoing in my head.

I soon stood in front of the black varnished door and lifted the gold door-knocker. I paused for a second, hesitating as usual, before knocking hard three times. The door opened almost instantly, Alyssa’s face like thunder, as I expected. “Don’t say anything, just wait a second! I’m really sorry, Lyss. I’m a crappy friend, I know. I got made to work late again – Tom missed his shift for the second time this week, and I need the extra money anyway. We’re on our final demand for the rent and Mum is a nervous wreck. I should have called. I know what your father is like. Sorry. I mean it.”

I saw Lyss’ scowl crumble before she pulled me into a hug. “Sorry, Mase. I shouldn’t have pounced on you like that,” she mumbled apologetically into my shoulder. She pulled away carefully and gave me a tentative smile before offering her hand. “Friends?”

“Of course, you idiot. I’m used to you by now.” I winked at her and she laughed, stepping aside for me. I walked in, brushing down my dark trousers and tucking the back of my shirt in. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, worrying for the millionth time that I just wasn’t good enough to be Alyssa’s friend any more, as her dad voiced often. “I guess I should have my excuses ready?” I smoothed my tie.

“Probably a good idea. He’s been bouncing off the walls for the past hour, waiting for you. Thank goodness I’m so persuasive, or he would have gone without you.” She smiled again.

“Thank goodness.” I agreed, with half her enthusiasm. I followed Alyssa along the corridor of the grand house, decorated with white and gold-filigree wallpaper, and couldn’t help but stare at her golden-brown hair, falling in perfect waves down her back. My eyes slowly traced her figure, falling to her bum, and I had to catch my breath a little. She was gorgeous. “You look great, Lyss.” She glanced back and tugged at the purple silky skirt that fell down just above her knees. I had meant what I said.

“Uh, thanks.” She turned away, but not before I saw her blush considerably. “Why did you have to wear the hoodie, Mase?” She added hurriedly.

I frowned down at the dark blue hoodie I had pulled over my shirt before leaving my house earlier. “It was cold.” I shrugged. It wasn’t like her dad could really dislike me any further anyway.

We reached the wooden archway into the drawing room, and she faced me, giving me a look that was filled with one hundred apologies, and then walked confidently into the room, expecting me to follow. I shuddered, worrying what was waiting for me in the drawing room by way of insults and put-downs.

Luckily, I wasn’t a stranger to Alyssa’s father’s disapproval.

I zoned out after a minute or so. It was useless to even bother trying to explain myself. “How do you expect me to come even close to accepting you when you disappoint Alyssa like this every other day? You’re lucky you even step foot in this house most days – look at how you’re dressed! Do you think that’s appropriate for the occasion? Shameful. I only pray that one day she’ll see sense and drop you before it does her too much damage…” On and on and on. Unfortunately, Alyssa’s dad was known for dealing out crap to anyone that didn’t please him, so I just had to ride it out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Alyssa nibbling at her bottom lip, her eyes flickering warily between her father and me. I wished there was something I could say or do to make her stop worrying. No such luck with her dad giving me hell. As soon as I got a chance to really speak to her, I would try and make it up to her.

“Boy, I hope I’ve got the message through that thick skull of yours, because we are now running considerably late. I believe I have only you to thank for that. Matilda, Alyssa, get your coats. Now that everyone is here, we can leave.” After a final glare, Alyssa’s father left the room, and his wife followed behind quickly, but not before giving me an apologetic smile. I could only feel sorry for her, stuck with him for her whole life.

Alyssa and I were left in the room alone. Before I could even open my mouth Alyssa spoke. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, and a single tear slid down her cheek, smudging her mascara. “Oh God, I’m such an idiot. I should never have made you come – this is my entire fault. I should have– ” I wrapped my arms around her and smothered the rest of her words. I hated to see her blame herself. When I was sure she had stopped blathering, I lifted her chin up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Chin up. Things could be worse. Besides, it’s not in my nature to let a brute like him walk all over me. I’d like to see him try to get me down. You crying is doing me a lot more harm than he likes to think he could.” I gave her a small smile. She grimaced back. “Come on, I’m not going through all this for nothing. Let’s have a good time, okay? I’m sure we can sneak off after an hour or two. He’ll be too caught up in his own success to mind us.” She didn’t reply, only looked at me carefully. Without another word, she pulled away before turning to walk after her parents, leaving me alone.

Mason, you know you’d be so much better off if you just didn’t give a damn. Well, there was my problem. I did give a damn, especially when it came to Alyssa. I sighed and followed after her, putting on my best poker face for her father. This would be fun.

* * *

“Finally, I’d like to thank my wife, Matilda. A lot of hard work goes on behind the scenes, and my wife is the hardest worker of them all. Without her, I truly don’t know where I would be today. So, if you’d like to raise a glass, let’s toast.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Alyssa’s father had been rambling on for a good half hour now, and I just wanted to get away from the disapproving looks of both the guests and the waiters and lock myself in my room. I just wanted to get away from his fake-as-silicone-boobs smile and his drawling words. Honestly, could one person be any more full of himself? I raised my glass half-heartedly and nodded, before downing it in one. I leaned over to Alyssa, who was sat on my left, and whispered in her ear. “Do you want to get out of here now? I’ve had enough.” She gave me a knowing smile and stood up, excusing herself from the table. I decided it would be best to just leave. I was sure he wouldn’t miss me that much, and besides, I wanted to keep a low profile.

I made my out of the back door and onto the large veranda that stretched from the back of the restaurant. I then waited outside, leaning against the door-frame and looking out into the dark garden. Soon enough, Alyssa had joined me. I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a large oak.

I watched her carefully as she leaned against the solid trunk of the tree and breathed deeply, and then turned to smile at my carefully. “Have I got something on my face, Mase?” She blushed, and I realised I had been staring.

“Uh, no. Sorry. It’s just that you really do look amazing tonight. I mean it.” I studied her face as her eyes averted from mine. I tried to make sense of my thoughts and force myself to say something. “Look, Alyssa, I was thinking that maybe–”

“Mason. Maybe I should go back. Father will notice that I’ve been gone too long. He’ll come looking for me.” She started to make her way past me but I stepped in front of her.

“Please don’t, Lyss. I just want to talk, okay? Don’t leave.” I reached for her hands and without thinking leant in, slowly, to kiss her. When her lips were a centimetre from mine, she hesitated and turned her head so that I brushed her cheek. I stood bolt upright immediately, completely stiff. “Lyss?”

“You just want to talk? Mason, Father would kill you if he knew you had touched me – you know he doesn’t like you. Besides, I don’t feel that way about you, either. I thought we were friends?”

“We are. We were. I thought you wanted us to be something more.”

“Where on earth did you get that idea from?” She exclaimed in disbelief.

“I guessed.”

“Well you guessed wrong, Mason. Go home. Call me tomorrow and we can sort this out, but right now I’m too tired and confused. I don’t want to do this now – I’ll only say something I’ll regret. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

With that she turned on her heel and walked back to the restaurant, not turning to look back at me once, leaving me alone. Again.

I waited for a minute or two, half expecting her to run back to me and say she was sorry or that she hadn’t meant it. No such luck. I turned slowly to the back of the garden and pulled myself up over the brick wall, before dropping down on the other side and landing unsteadily.

I kept my head down and my hood up as I began my journey home. My mind was numb with humiliation. How had I been so stupid? Girls are so complicated – we could really do with an encyclopaedia covering this sort of thing.

Various thoughts ran through my brain with an undertone of self-pity. After my rejection, I wallowed in my sorrows, and just let myself feel awful. Alyssa obviously didn’t like me the way I had hoped. And I had probably just blown any future romantic relationship with her out of the water very nicely. Although it would have been near enough impossible even without my help. Her dad hated my guts. Besides, I didn’t really want to confront him. At least not for Alyssa’s sake.

I had always promised myself that one day, when I finally left home and made something of myself, I would let him know what a bastard he really was, and rub my success in his face, prejudiced git. As if I would even have the guts to do that anyway. At least the thought made me smile. But right now, I would have to put on my best poker face and suck it up. There wasn’t really anything much I could do, and even more so now.

A couple of blocks before I reached my house, I went into a corner shop for a bar of chocolate and a bottle of something sweet. I hadn’t realised quite how thirsty, or hungry, I had been, or how dry my mouth had become. As I came around the final corner and onto my street, I caught a sight of a flash of red, blue and black, harsh under the glaring glow of the streetlight. Carson Buckley stared at me, again. He asked me the same question: “What are YOU doing for the greater Great Britain?”

I sighed at my lack of witty mental response, although I did mutter a collection of rather unsavoury names at the poster. What awful luck I have, I thought, that my best friend is the daughter of one of the biggest arseholes in British history.

Alyssa Buckley, you don’t make it easy for me.