Drabble:111
He'd liked Rose, Mason supposed, from the moment they'd met. It had been Mason who'd convinced Eddie-already his brother-from-another-mother then-in kindergarten to allow Rose to share their desk for classes. After guarded introductions and small talks, they'd taken to one another and stuck together like a leech to an artery. And they'd been fast friends ever since.
Mason had been the one who'd punched a 7-year-old Zane's foot when he'd teased Rose about her mother abandoning her. It was he, who'd found her hiding in the school gardens, sniffling into her sweater when Janine had failed to show up on Parent's Day that year. It was Mason who-with Eddie's help-had prevented several notorious rumours about her from spreading across the campus. It was Mason who'd introduced Rose to the love of her life-chocolate doughnuts-and consequently lost to her in a doughnut-eating contest. And ice-cream contest. And hot-dog contest. But hey, he could happily eat tomatoes, which turned Rose's tanned skin Moroi-alabaster from horror.
It was Mason who'd sat with Rose through the night when one of her daredevil-stunts had landed her first in the clinic (never mind that he himself had broken an arm, and Eddie, with his bandaged head, had snored-loudly-all night). It was Mason who'd foregone going home for the holidays when they were ten, so that he could keep Rose company by playing soccer and watching horror movies. He'd sneaked out from his dorm at night the first time to bring her chips and a Hershey's bar and bring her up-to-date on school gossip when she'd been on bed-rest after tearing her ACL. He'd been her confidant for all pranks she planned and the 72-different-ways she'd contemplated 'disposing' of Stan. Mason also had been the first boy whose shoulder Rose had fallen asleep on, whose blanket she'd shared and whose heart she'd stolen.
He'd liked her since he'd first set her eyes on her, the wide-eyed brown-haired five-year-old hellion who didn't have a seat in class. He'd grown to care for her as they grew up ad talked and shared secrets. He'd 'tried' to protect her from the jerks and bullies and later placed bets on her winning fights-both verbal and physical-against them. And somewhere along the way, he'd stopped looking at her like a friend and began to desire her.
At first he'd been horrified by his reaction and indecent thoughts about her and her body, but he knew he didn't just desire her, he loved her. And so, he waited in the shadows, waited for her to notice him, while she moved from one guy to another, breaking their hearts and never resigning hers. He knew her well enough to know that she wasn't going to trust someone with her heart so easily, so he bided his time. She'd trusted him to let him see beneath her sarcasm and irony and really see her, and he hoped that with time, she'd give him her heart too.
And then, she'd disappeared from school without even a goodbye to him. He'd been crushed. He missed his friend and their easy banter, and it hurt that she hadn't even cared to let him know she'd take off. He moped for a few day, and then moved on with his life, always wondering how she was, and what she was doing. He regretted never telling her how he felt. He prayed to God that she stayed safe and the guardians managed to bring her back, so he could, someday.
And then she returned-technically, she was dragged back-more worldly, more alluring than ever and became the object of fantasies about every testosterone-ravaged male. Mason prepared to lay it out to her-how he felt-but by then she had already acquired her latest target-Jesse-asshat-Zeklos-and was homing in on him. So, again, he resigned himself to shadows to wait out this disaster-waiting-to-happen, ready to sweep her off her feet the moment she noticed him as a potential boyfriend, and not her piggyback ride from kindergarten.
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