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“We never finished our conversation back at the hotel. I think you wanted to know if I care about you. I don’t think you believe that I do,” he said. He grabbed my hand again. His stare was intense. My eyes drifted from Mason’s hard stare to the grip he had on my hands and then to the people in the diner.

“Kendall, I tell you
all
the time I care about you. You’re more important to me than anyone else. What happened the other night with Renee would never compare to you. And I was stupid to even do it…high or not. And that’s the god’s honest truth.”

I swallowed. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t realize I had such feelings for Mason until now, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Mason was my best friend and I realized he’s all I wanted.  I knew I wanted him to be a part of me, more than I knew how. And, I wanted him to pick me.

“And you don’t even need to say anything. I’m screwed up. I don’t know how any of this works any better than you do. But I do believe you’re worth every second it would take to figure it out,” Mason said. The look on his face pulled at my heartstrings.

Renee returned with our food, the tray resting against her hip.

“French fries, two cokes. Mason did you figure out what you wanted to eat yet?” she asked, eyeing us. I pulled my hand free from his.

“Cheeseburger and fries,” he said looking at Renee. He leaned back in the booth. I studied him as he sat there. There was one things I knew about Mason for certain. He was as honest as the day is long. He didn’t care if it hurt your feelings, if he had something to say, he was going to say it. I was sure he’d never lied to me…ever.

“So, hey,” Renee said, turning back around to face us. “What are you two doing later? There’s a lot more fun to be had before you leave beautiful Virginia.”

Mason looked at me for a signal of what I might want to do. I thought it strange she was so easy to forgive him after nearly tossing Shifty over the balcony.

“I don’t know. I’m not feeling that good,” I said. It was the truth I felt like I’d been dragged for miles and hit by death himself.

“What about you, Mason?” she asked.

“If Kendall is feeling better in a few hours and wants to come, we’ll give you a call or something,” he said, shooting me a look.

Renee nodded and hurried off.

Mason grinned, stealing one of my fries.

“I wonder how much longer we’ll be here. Every day we sit puts me closer to my grave,” he said with a laugh.

“Keep your mouth shut if you have nothing good to say, Mason. I don’t think it’s funny at all,” I warned him, sinking lower in my seat.

“It’s funny. We’re sitting ducks. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll even make it out alive. You can’t say you haven’t thought the same thing. I know I’d fight tooth and nail before I sat the rest of my life in a cell. They might as well kill me. Jail is no life at all,” he said.

He hadn’t gotten the hint that I didn’t want to talk doom and gloom.  It was misery and it made me feel even worse. It promised only despair with no chance of achieving our dreams.

I covered my mouth, afraid I was going to be sick, and ran to the bathroom, nearly knocking down an elderly couple in line to pay for their meal.

I pushed open the first stall door and dropped to my knees losing what little I had in my stomach. 

“Are you okay in here?” Renee called out from the other side of the stall. I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just an upset stomach,” I said, coming out of the stall.

“So what’s the deal with you and Mason if you don’t mind me prying?” she asked. Her smile faded a bit as we stood there staring in the mirror.

“I’ve known Mason for too many years to count. He’s always been a part of my life,” I said short and to the point.

“He loves you. It’s written all over him,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “And you’re lucky, he’s a cute guy. His eyes are incredible, amongst other things,” she said, giggling at the last part.

I understood all too well what she was referring to.

We made our way back out to the diner. Mason watched me climb back into the booth. I wondered if Renee could be right. Maybe Mason did love me.

We ate our food quickly. Mason convinced me to go for a walk to steer clear of Payton. We walked back the way we came trying to figure out where to go.

“How about we walk by the water?” he asked, taking my hand in his as we slowly made our way.

“That sounds good,” I said, trying to not become unnerved by his harmless touch. Something in me had changed, and it was becoming more difficult to be myself around him.

“I’m sorry I upset you. I never know when to shut my mouth,” he said.

“Yeah…it gets to be too much after a while,” I said. He squeezed my hand a little tighter. We came to a stop by the water, watching and hearing the waves crash onto the shore below. It felt so peaceful in that moment.

“What do you think Payton is thinking right now?” I asked. The boat in the distance looked so small.

“I have no idea. It’s not the first time she tried busting me in the face.”

“It’s the first time you reacted though,” I reminded him.

The wind grew stronger whipping my hair away from my face.

“My dad is the one button you can’t push. She could have said anything else to me, but not that. I’m nothing like that man. I don’t want to ever be like him. He’s the reason my mom is as messed up as she is.” I could tell the angst had returned at the mention of his dad.

“You’re nothing like him,” I said. “You’re actually sort of amazing.”

Mason laughed. He pushed me playfully. I rolled my eyes at his reaction to my compliment. Once again he was being his usual self.

“Why don’t we just say it already?” He smirked. “I mean… come on, now.”

I eyed him carefully not knowing how to react to that. “What is it you think we want to say?”

“That we love each other. I kick myself every time I stopped myself from telling you. I know you love me, too, and that’s all that matters,” he said, pulling me in close.

His arm tightened around me as we stood and stared at the water in a shared silence.

I wanted to say the same thing to him, but I wasn’t sure I knew how.

Mason dug around in his pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper.

“I was going to say screw it, but maybe it’s something we could benefit from,” he said, waving the address Payton had given him in front of my face.

I took the paper from him, reading Payton’s elegant writing. I wondered just where
77 Elm Rue
was located. I had seen enough of Payton’s friends to know it probably wasn’t anyplace nice.

“I don’t know. The whole thing sounds strange to me.” I handed the paper back. Mason shrugged off my intuition and tugged me back down the street. He whistled loudly and waved his hand, hailing a taxi to a quick stop.

We climbed into the yellow cab. The gray-haired driver looked us over as we climbed into the backseat.

“Where we heading?” he asked, looking back and throwing a flabby, hairy arm across the seat.

“This address right here,” Mason said, handing over the paper.

“Humph.” The man grunted. I looked at Mason to see if he caught the driver’s response to the address he saw written on the paper.

He was lost in his thoughts as he stared out the window. He was a man on a mission. I couldn’t understand the point of it. His thoughts of taking, whatever it was he was supposed to pick up, away from Payton was just stupid. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t find out—these people we were her friends.

We rode for about twenty minutes before we reached our destination. We ended up on a long stretch of road with only a few little houses on one side. On the other side was what looked to be some kind of factory nestled in beside an old junk yard surrounded by a rickety old fence.

The cab driver looked back at us not willing to let us leave until we paid him. I nudged Mason back to life. He was busy looking out his window taking everything in.

“Here, keep the change,” he said handing over the money. “Which one is it?”

The old man cleared his throat. He rubbed a hand across his gray stubble and pointed toward the junkyard.

“Have a nice day,” he said, driving off. The tone of his voice told me he didn’t mean it at all. My heart sped up at the realization we were alone now on this barren street.

“It’ll be fine,” Mason said, taking my hand. He sensed my apprehension. “I’m sure we can walk a ways up the road and find someone to take us back.”

I nodded as we headed across the street. As we got closer to the fence that surrounded the entire junkyard, I felt so small below the towering gate. A big red sign hung above our heads, silently swaying back and forth with the breeze.

“Gary Stingy junk and parts,” I read aloud. “That name sound familiar to you?”

Mason looked up and shook his head.
Great
.

Mason rattled the fence, sending several snarling dogs barking. He looked around for any signs of life—it seemed abandoned. I looked around until my eyes settled on an intercom. I pressed the button and a buzz swirled through the air.

Mason stepped back releasing his hold on the fence.

The intercom cracked and hissed as if it were on its last leg.

“Can I help you?” someone asked. I couldn’t gauge the age of the voice at all. I crossed my arms and let Mason do the talking.

“I’m here for Payton,” Mason said, short and to the point. He tapped the fence. It was obvious he was as antsy as I was.

“I’ll be right there,” the voice said, leaving us in silence.

Mason ran a hand through his hair. He paced back and forth and finally came to a stop when we both caught sight of the man coming toward us. He was massive, covered in blue jean overalls. His hair fluttered in the wind. And the black rubber gloves that ran all the way to his elbows shook with each step. He looked like the killer in those horror movies I used to watch.

As I looked around, I realized the whole setting could have been from one of those horror movies.

“I hope you’re lucky today,” I mumbled.

“You say Payton?” The man asked standing before us now. He towered over us both. He rubbed at his face, streaks of dirt and lord knows what else etched his features. His other hand was holding a blowtorch. I prayed it was used for an honest living and not torturing people like us.

“Yeah, I said Payton,” Mason said, giving a quick nod. The man brought his hand above his head and unhooked the gate. It rattled and clanged before screeching open.

“I thought she had second thoughts,” he said to no one in particular. He slammed the gate shut, getting the dogs revved up again. Cars were stacked on top of each other in glorious heaps.

“Who are you exactly?” he asked, staring down at the two of us. We were heading toward a beat up trailer—its siding in appalling condition.

“I’m Payton’s son, Mason,” Mason said, extending his hand toward the grizzly man. He removed a glove and shoved his grease-caked fingernails in Mason’s direction accepting his handshake.

“That’s right.” He shook his head as if he understood now. He opened up the trailer door letting us in first. I held tight to Mason’s shirt as we went inside. My breath caught in my chest at the stale smell of dust and cigarettes.

“Have a seat,” he said, going behind an old brown desk stacked to the ceiling with papers.

I looked around at the makeshift office, staying at the very edge of my seat. I wasn’t about to get comfortable. Its cracked plastic stabbed my thigh. I nervously intertwined my fingers, totally unnerved but trying to keep it together.

Mason sat down next to me, his chair falling sideways—it was missing a leg. If I hadn’t been so nervous, it would have been funny.

“Well, give me a couple minutes to get things together. Like I said, I didn’t think she was having you come.” He stood up and left the trailer, his feet pounded against the floor with hard thuds.

I looked at Mason the minute we were alone. I really hoped he wasn’t as stupid as he was acting right now.

“This doesn’t feel right, Mason,” I said as soon as we were alone.

Mason looked at me, his expression unchanging. He was trying to make sense of it, of everything that was happening. I had already and I knew it wasn’t good.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, but something isn’t right. We shouldn’t be here.” I stopped talking as soon as the door opened. The man who’d just been here came back in carrying a black duffle bag. Another man followed in behind him.

He stood in the doorway, his muscular frame evident from the sunlight coming in through the windows. He was a tall man, handsome and tan—the complete opposite of the grizzly man with the duffle bag. I looked over at him and a small smile flashed across his face as we locked eyes. I didn’t smile back. He was blocking the door for some reason and I knew it couldn’t be good.

“Well, come take a look. Your mom asked for my best,” he said waving Mason over. Mason grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up with him. I looked at the scary man, his expression stayed the same. We both peered into the bag at the same time. The bag contained a large variety of handguns and shotguns.