Author: Writerandreader PM
Hale has always liked Mason. But being the smarty-pants has taken it's toll on her. After becoming secret friends with him, can she keep things just the way they should be? Or will he hate her for lying?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 18 - Words: 15,895 - Reviews: 36 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 05-02-12 - Published: 08-14-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2943141
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
'Do you have a girlfriend?' I typed, sighing as my finger hit 'enter'.
'No, but I'm interested in someone.' Mason wrote.
'What's her name?'
'Well, other than you, I like this girl at my school, Hale.' Other than me? What did that mean?
I swallowed hard and ran a hand through my hair. 'That's a pretty name. Does the name fit the face?'
'If you're asking if she's pretty, than yes. To me, she is. Some of my friends wouldn't find her girlfriend material but she's interesting.'
'She's sounds like a great girl. You should tell her.'
'She hates me.' I don't hate him. He was so wrong.
'Well, what have you said to make her hate you?'
'I'm on the football team. I'm popular. She's a straight A student with no clue how to catch any type of ball. To my friends, she's not at all my type.'
'You care about their opinions?' What a guy? Is it so hard to have an opinion of your own? I never will understand the male gender...
'It's high school, of course I do.'
'I have to go. Talk to you tomorrow?'
I sighed and laid back on my bed. He liked me. Mason Dawson liked me. I couldn't believe it. Him of all people. I was so... different. Especially from him. Why would anyone like him like someone like me?
I grabbed my phone from the desk and started dialing.
I walked down the hall and stopped at my locker. "That test was easy." I, being the smart girl, wore whatever. Some people might even think I was on the mom still dresses me wardrobe. I had blue jean shorts that covered my knees, a plain orange shirt, and my hair was pulled up in a depressing ponytail. I hated how I looked but I didn't know the next thing to looking pretty. I'd never tried before.
"Of course it was." Abby said, rolling her eyes, in her usual jacket and jeans attire.
"How long did you study for that last night?" Jesse asked, opening her own locker. She, on the other hand, wasn't afraid to show off her thin legs. She had pink shorts, a fancy pink shirt, and flip-flops to match.
"Just half an hour. I spent most of my night talking to someone."
"Like who?" Abby asked, leaning against her locker, clutching her books close to her chest. She was always into my business.
"Like none of your business."
"Is it a guy?"
"You have to tell us, Hale." Jesse said.
I shook my head. "I don't even know if things will work out. You'll find out when the time comes." Yeah, right. Like I'd tell anyone.
They both sighed.
Mason walked over to us, standing beside me. "Can't we talk? Alone?" He had the perfect walk, talk, friends, life, everything. I was jealous. He could pull of khakis and a black t-shirt better than anyone I've ever known. He seriously had some help with his wardrobe.
Jesse and Abby looked at me, not moving.
"I'll catch up with you later." I mumbled.
Abby gave me the look, the look that meant she would be asking me about everything, before she and Jesse walked off down the hall.
"Look, I wouldn't normally come over here. But I need a favor."
I waited. So, he didn't know I was writing to him. I understand that much. But why would he want anything from me? And why didn't he tell me last night? Right, he didn't know it was me. But I thought he'd at least mention it.
"I'm failing Calculus and I need an A on the next test or I'm out of the game this Friday"
"And I come in... where?"
"I need you to help me pass the test."
"Where and when?" I said, shutting my locker.
"The library, after school."
"Is this just a one day thing or..."
"As long as it takes. I'll even pay you."
"You don't have to pay me." I said, rolling my eyes.
"I have to hold my end, don't I?"
"If you want. I don't take money when tutoring people."
"Well, what do you want?"
"You're asking me?" The thought of him wanting me to get something from him was incredulous.
"You're the one helping me."
"Right." I mumbled.
He laughed. "I'll think about it."
"So, I'll see you later."
He nodded and walked back to his friends.
I bit my lip. How did I get myself into this big of a mess?
"I can see why you're failing." I mumbled. "You took an advanced math class." I shook my head.
"And that's bad because..." He said, clearly not following me.
"What?" He asked, totally oblivious to everything.
I sighed and looked up at him. "Dyslexia. That's the main term. Letters get messed up when you look at them."
"How do you know that?"
I handed him one of the papers. "Look at question five. It's simple division. You made the two a five. It's not hard to miss."
"Is there any way-"
"Patience, Mason." I said, pushing the notebook towards him. "You have to deal with it. Get used to seeing things differently and try to change what you see. You need patience and time. You can pass the test if you study hard enough."
"I don't have time to study."
"You have to make time." I said, propping my head up with the heal of my hand.
He sighed and started on the problem. It was obvious he needed help. And with every failed attempt, I would grow more and more impatient. It was a simple problem even I could finish in my sleep. He finished it within four minutes or so, the whole sheet of paper filled with scribbles.
"Thanks for helping me with this." He said, watching me read over the paper.
I shrugged. "I'm not the type of person to let someone fail just because of their reputation."
"If any of your friends saw us, neither of us would hear the end of it."
He laughed. "That's why I choose the library. None of my friends would be caught dead here."
"That's how it is with most people. They want my help but not if people know about it."
"I'm not that type of person."
I couldn't help but smile.
"Look, I don't mean to cut this short but I have practice in ten minutes."
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you." I mumbled, watching him go. I sighed, groaned, and let my forehead hit my arm.