Definitely not.
Jessica shot daggers at me while Lydia sat beside her. Across from them were Becky and another guy who was bouncing in his chair. Jeff sat on his other side, laughing at something he said, but it was the table next to them that had me surging to my feet. Adam was the closest to Becky. He had a hand out to her chair and the two were conversing while the Academy Elite sat around the rest of his table. Miranda's lips thinned as she scanned the diner. The other three girls had spotted me and converged together. When their hands came up to block their mouths I knew the whispering gossip had started. Again. The only two who seemed semi normal were Peter and Mark, but when I caught Mark's gaze for a second, I flinched and turned away.
"…he wants to break the news that he thinks his mom and Coach are going to get hitched, but he doesn't know how to."
I couldn't deal with that. I couldn't think about David and his mother together. Was that the reason my dad had stopped calling me? Adam said that to me two months ago, which now feels like ages ago. Mark was going to be family to me. I felt a burning in my chest. It was tightening, suffocating me. I jerked away from my table, but ran into someone.
"Okay." A strong hand took hold of my elbow and pulled me through the crowd. I couldn't see anyone. I had no idea where Mason was, he had left me. The door was kicked open and we were outside. Barely registering the fresh air, I was pushed down in a chair and my head was shoved between my legs. "Breathe, Sam. Jeez, just breathe."
I took gasping breaths and my eyes closed against the visions that assaulted me.
I pushed open the bathroom door, but he wasn't in there either. "Dad?" Where had he gone? Mom needed him. Mom was bleeding. I hurried back around the bed, but tripped over something. There was a bag on the floor—no, it was a suitcase. Mom was going somewhere? A sob came up in my throat and I whimpered, "Daddy."
His clothes were in the suitcase. Some of his other clothes were spread all over the room. They'd been thrown like that. Why would he do that? He wasn't like that.
Mom was bleeding. I had to go to her.
I pushed myself up, stepped over the suitcase, and hurried down the hallway again. As I neared it, I slowed down. I didn't want to go in there. She was so still and so white. I had only seen another person that white before, when my dad picked me up after I fell off our patio. He took me to the hospital—mom needed the hospital. I turned and went for the phone.
"Hey." Mason's calming voice brought me back as he picked me up and held me in his arms. Then I felt him turning away.
"Where are you taking her, Kade?"
His voice was rough as he threw over his shoulder, "She just needs a minute. She'll be fine. Don't worry."
"Come on, Kade—"
He twisted back around. "I said, she'll be fine. Leave it, Jax."
The edge left her tone. "Take her to my house. It's not the Grand Ritz you guys live in, but it's private. She can shower there. I have a pile of clothes next to my bed. I lent some to her before; she can pick what she wants to wear."
He stiffened underneath me. I knew he wanted to take me home, but enough reason had filtered back to me that I lifted my head from his shoulder. My voice was still weak, "That's fine, Mason. I have to work. I can't miss my shift."
"You sure?" His eyes searched mine.
I nodded but started to tremble at the look of concern in his depths. There was so much love. I lifted my hands to his face and cupped it. His eyes closed and he drew in a ragged breath. My thumb caressed over his cheek. He was so handsome. Perfect. And he was mine. I pressed a kiss to his lips. He hesitated, but I whispered, "I'm fine. I'm fine." Then his mouth opened underneath mine, and he took over the kiss.
I pressed closer, but he had already gentled the kiss by the time he stepped around the back of Manny's. As he put me back down on my feet, he indicated the house. "This is the place?"
"Uh…" I could only focus on how much I wanted to feel him, only him. "Yeah, I guess."
He stepped onto the squeaky patio and opened the screen door. I followed when he went inside, and he stopped to peruse their small living room and kitchen. The stairs were straight ahead with an open door beside them. I saw now that it led to a bedroom. The same boxes of liquor were inside, along with clothes, and dirty dishes.
I gestured upstairs. "Her room's up there. I'm going to shower and change. You'll be okay down here?"
He hadn't stopped looking at the living room. A ratted couch was covered with a bed sheet. The table in front of was covered with magazines, dirtied plates, and cans of beer and soda. Against the wall, their large screen television was the only thing that looked expensive. Mason took a step around the couch and lifted one of the remotes. When he saw that I was waiting, he nodded, "I'll be fine. You're okay up there?"
I nodded. I knew he was really asking if I'd have any more panic attacks, but it hadn't been a full-fledged one. Or maybe I was becoming used to them. "I'll be fine. I'll hurry down."
"No, no." He waved a hand at me. "Take your time."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine."
"Okay." I grinned as he stood in the middle of the living room, searching where to sit. There was a loveseat next to the couch, but it was covered with a similar bedsheet. He bent down and removed a pile of magazines from one corner and perched on the edge. When the television turned on, I headed upstairs.