“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled. One minute I was searching for him all over school and the next he was in the independent study class that I had to get out of as soon as possible.
The universe truly had the most mean-girl sense of humor ever.
“Okay, I can do this.” I shouldered my backpack and set my chin.
If there was one thing I was going to do today, it was get this mess straightened out. Mason and our impending friendship would just have to wait for another day. He wouldn’t know the difference.
Marching toward Mason, I stopped short of the chair sitting across from him. He stared at me the whole time, his hard expression never changing. Plopping my backpack on the table, I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, squinting against the headache that was coming on swiftly.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’d love to be in this class with you, but I have to warn you that I’m not going to be here long.”
“Okay...?” He leaned back and draped his arm over the top of the neighboring chair, his eyes never leaving my face. “Why?”
“Because, there’s been a mistake. This isn’t my class.” I felt a rumble of emotion rise up inside my belly. It was a strange sensation, like indignation or annoyance. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to having, but Mason seemed to bring it out in me. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
“I guess we have that in common,” he said, crossing his arms and looking across the room with a funny expression on his face.
“Wait...what?” I wrinkled my nose. Had the school messed up two schedules? Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe it really was a mistake. “Are you supposed to be in a different class, too?”
“No...forget I said anything.” He smirked and lifted his chin as the remaining hope inside me died. “Just tell me, where are you supposed to be?”
“In Advanced Art, creating the masterpiece of a lifetime.” Hot tears of desperation gathered in the corners of my eyes. Blinking them back, I snatched my phone out of my backpack and held it up. “Don’t worry. I’m going to straighten this all out. I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. The phone was already dialing and up to my ear. Walking back between the dozens of stacks of books that lined the back of the library, I waited for someone to answer. Mom was probably in surgery at this hour. She’d mentioned something about a laparotomy scheduled for after lunch. It would’ve been a miracle if she picked up her cell. So Dad was my only hope.
As the phone rang, I tried to clear the lump from my throat. Dad didn’t respond well to misplaced emotion. He liked logic and facts, numbers and proofs. If I was going to convince him to let me go back to art class, I needed to think of a reason that would make sense to him. A reason backed by evidence and research.
But my chance never came. The phone rang and rang, until voicemail picked up and I was left holding a silent phone in the reference section of the library. My ears rang with deafening disappointment, that itch in my fingers growing worse. It looked like there really would be no art class today. I sighed and slipped the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, determined not to let the cloud of worry lingering over my head get the best of me.
There still had to be an explanation for this. I wasn’t giving up.
“Uh oh, it looks like you’re still here.” Mason appeared at the end of the row of books. He’d worn a navy and teal flannel shirt with a black tee underneath it today. If I’d been in a better mood, I would’ve told him that it brought out the blue in his eyes, but I just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be any form of perky at the moment. “Guess you really are stuck.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” I leaned against the books and closed my eyes. Right then would’ve been a great time to learn to meditate. Let the stress melt away. “No one’s rescuing this damsel from distress. I’m a sleeping princess and Research Methods 101 is the fire-breathing dragon.”
“You waiting for a white knight to appear?”
His voice sounded right in front of me. I opened my eyes in surprise to see him standing only a foot away, an intense frown on his full lips. “Yeah...I guess I am.”
I thought about his rescue operation in the hallway just twenty minutes ago. The way he’d intervened in that fight. Was he a white knight in blue flannel garb? They always said not to judge a book by its cover. Mason certainly had the knightly good looks, even if he lacked the charm of a prince in disguise.
Still, I’d bet that somewhere beneath that stiff exterior was a man who could right the wrongs of this world. Fight for justice. I’d gotten just a sneak peek of it. It made me wonder what else Mason Finnick was hiding.
A line appeared between Mason’s eyebrows as he considered my words. Leaning in slightly, he pinned me with his blue gaze. “You know, I didn’t think a girl like you needed some useless guy in tights to rescue her. You could probably slay the dragon yourself.”
A bit of stress melted away from my shoulders and a soft giggle left my lips. Mason’s mouth quirked in response, as if he were tempted just the tiniest bit to smile. Still, a second later the quirk was gone and he’d gone back to frowning with as much intensity as ever.
“Trina...?”
He stepped closer and I flattened my spine against the bookcase. My gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes in sheer panic. The closeness of his body to mine had my pulse racing, my palms sweaty, and it seemed to have shut down my brain. I swallowed hard and bit my bottom lip.
Charley would’ve squealed to see me in this situation, with Mason Finnick standing only inches away and his gaze intently on my face. It was no wonder she was obsessed with him. He smelled amazing, like a fresh mountain spring. Or laundry that had just been pulled out of the dryer. Either way, I wanted to bury my nose in his shirt.
“Yes?” At least my voice was still working, although it seemed it had gone up several decibels.
Dang it, he was cute. And standing so close I’d nearly forgotten my own name.
“I think...” He tilted his head to one side. “I think you’re standing in front of the Research Methods textbooks. If you’re really stuck in this class, you’re going to need a copy.”