A/N: cue le drama, haha.

Ollie's POV

It wasn't unusual to see excessive PDA amongst the couples of our school at any of the dances or events, but Benji and Lauren really took the cake. Honestly, I wasn't sure how they got away with basically having sex with clothes in front of the teacher chaperones. That or they simply couldn't care less or maybe they spiked their punch glasses; either way, they left a bad taste in my mouth.

Benji was never a good dancer, even during fifth and eighth-grade banquets where we were assigned partners for the slow dance. He always managed to step on his partner's feet. Even now, I could see that his very limited skills of dancing were on full display; which only included grinding and rolling his torso. I guess that was impressive in itself given his more muscular, built-for-football body. Needless to say, all eyes were on the star couple during the Winter Formal, including my date, Harvey.

"God, I think I threw up a little," he said to one of the underclassman theatre kids, that seemed to flock together near us and the student council people. "His form is atrocious."

"Not everyone can be as flexible and graceful as you, Harv," I teased.

He rolled his eyes before adjusting the tie around my neck. "Somebody stop them before the news gets out she's preggers."

It could've been the lights or the excitement level in the ballroom, but Harvey was more flirtatious and outgoing than his normal self. That, or he had taken a shot of alcohol before arriving here, he really was eccentric. Although Harvey was technically my date, we didn't dance together, or take photos, or anything. Really, we were here to just have fun, people watch, and possibly find the latest scoop for the school newspaper. Harvey was good at spotting drama or gossip, and the Winter Formal was a great breeding ground for that, especially since it was the weekend before semester finals, and before Winter break. Breaks in the school calendar were notorious times for new cliques, new relationships, and tons of rumors and fresh gossip. For us journalism and news writing students, this was our time to be vigilant.

Although scoping out the latest news was quite difficult when the Winter Formal appeared to be centered around none other than Benji and Lauren, the star couple. I turned to ask Harvey about something but the music changed, blasting one of the High School Musical hits, and he was running off to his theatre troop before I could say anything. They immediately broke into song and dance, which although adorable, now I wasn't sure who to talk to. The council was busy setting up for the Winter court votes, and everyone else had decided to join in on Harvey's dance session.

Just as I turned to scope out a more quiet area, somebody had walked into my line of sight, and before I realized it, Mason was there next to me.

"Oh, hey. I didn't think you'd make it?"

He looked confused. "Of course I would. They expect all the sportspeople to be here, well everyone, quite frankly. Plus it's always fun to spy on people."

"I don't know if spying is the right term," I told him. "Maybe recon? At least I can use the newspaper as my excuse."

He laughed before leaning in, saying just loud enough to hear, "wanna get out of here? All that's left is the court announcement and the dancing. And we both know who's going to win Winter court."

Our eyes trailed to where Benji and Lauren were still glued to each other's bodies. We both smiled at that, stifling our laughs before looking away from them. "Sure, I'm not a fan of these crowds of sweaty and horny masses, anyways."

"It is annoying, isn't it?" He said. "Like, seriously, sharing all those germs in that cesspit of a dance floor. And right before finals, what kind of planning is that?"

"So dumb," I agreed.

He raised a brow. "So wanna get away from the crazies?"

"Of course. Wait, gimme one second," I told him, before pulling out my phone. I sent a quick text to Harvey, telling him I'd step out for a bit to get some fresh air. Hopefully, he'd get that message, since he was fully engrossed in performing the entire dance number for "We're All in This Together," in front of the entire dance floor of students.

"Let's go," he said with a grin, before pointing to the doors behind the punch table, which also happened to be the doors to the hallway. The teachers were so engrossed in Harvey and the theatre team's performance they hadn't even batted an eye at us leaving. "Well, that was easy."

"Where are we going?"

He tilted his head at the question, ruminating his answer in his head. "What about the bleachers, nobody would check there?"

"Sounds shady," I questioned him, wondering what he meant by that. "But I guess? I don't see why anyone would go there."

As we walked down the concrete path, we felt the slightest drizzle of rain on our cheeks. Mason held out his hand as the drizzling turned to rain. He didn't seem to mind it as he turned to me. "I'm not a fan of huge crowds either."

"Really?" I told him incredulously. "For someone who doesn't mind the attention at football games, I would've never guessed."

He laughed. "Yeah, well, at least with the guys, the attention isn't all directed at me. And well, I guess I've learned to hide it. But crowds like that, sandwiched in with loud music and flashing lights, not a fan."

"Yet you attend the parties."

He paused before tucking his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well, I go for show, mainly. Let everyone know I'm there, before taking off with some lame excuse. I don't know, it just feels..."

"Suffocating?"

"Yeah, actually." He let out a smile, even as the rain turned into large drops, leaving dark splotches on our suits. "Like everybody's watching every move and waiting to strike when the slightest anomaly is discovered. That and well, I'd much rather be at home resting or attempting to study, unlike most of those idiots."

He jeered his thumb back to the building and we both let out a laugh. As the rain got heavier, the clouds turning a dark shade, Mason gripped my forearm, pulling me toward under the narrow eave of one of the buildings.

"Shit, It's really raining now."

I nodded. "Yeah, bleachers would be soaked by now."

"My car?" He suggested. "I can turn on the heater and everything."

I shrugged. "Beats getting soaked. That is if we don't on the way there."

With the trade winds, the rain came at an angle that still managed to reach us even under the roof. As I watched, wondering if the rain would lighten up, Mason was removing his suit jacket, exposing his nicely ironed white button-up shirt to the pelting rain. "What are you—"

"Here, take the jacket." He placed it over my head. "You'll get soaked"

"Mason, this looks expensive." I went to grab the hem of the collar. "I can just use my own, what about you?"

"It's fine. It's not expensive either; it's a hand-me-down," he insisted before pointing toward the parking lot. "We should get out of here, it doesn't look like the rain's going to stop."

Even though it was near ten o'clock, the clouds looked darker than the night sky. "Still, it's fine if I get a little rained on, Mason."

He gave me a droll look, but I kept the suit over my head regardless. With his one hand on my arm, he tugged, and we ran to his car—or he led me to his car since it was hard to spot in this weather.

It felt like a corny romance film, us two running in the rain to his car. Except for most of those films, it was a lady or girl running in some ballroom gown. I think he felt the same silliness of this whole thing as he started laughing as we neared the car. He fumbled for his car keys in his pants, almost struggling with the button, needing to press it twice in order for us to finally get the car unlocked.

As we sat down, he started up the car, grabbing a towel from the backseat, once I could only hope was clean and not a used towel from football practice. He ran it through his dark hair, then down his face before laughing again. I scoffed at that before we sat there in silence, not even sure what to talk about anymore.

"There was another reason why being in there was bothering me," I told him finally, as he turned up the heater, his suit jackets still wrapped around my shoulders. "Aside from the agoraphobia and pounding music and whatnot."

Mason turned to me with a frown. "Benji?"

I hummed.

"That's understandable," he replied softly. "I mean the amount of PDA was intense."

"I don't know, seeing Lauren and Benji just struck a chord, you know?" I admitted. "I thought I'd be his friend forever. Then his football boys got in the way, and then Lauren."

Mason almost said something, but I interrupted. "And I mean, it's not her fault, it's just annoying. At least saying hi to your friend would be nice. Not allowing your buddies to pummel said friend would be nice."

"You are a great friend, Ollie."

I rolled my eyes at that.

"It's a shame Benji can't see that," he added. "That he can't see that we've been there for him as friends. I mean more so you than me. But what does Lauren or anyone else have that warrants us being treated this way? Or treating your best friend like that, of all people."

"He's obsessed with himself and his reputation," I told him. "It's just so dumb."

Mason hummed, a strange look in his eyes as he seemed to zone out. "Yeah, it is."

"It's a shame that I've been there for him for years," I muttered. "And something this stupid would have him push it all away like it meant nothing to him."

He hummed again, seemingly lost in thought. "Mason?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I've just been thinking."

"About what?"

He pursed his lips before drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. "It's just this whole fiasco. With Benji and you. He never had an issue with you being gay before this."

"I didn't think he did, but I'm not so sure anymore."

"Like did he know before you told him? Maybe he felt hurt by that?"

I remembered clearly his reaction. At first, he was confused, maybe shocked? It took a couple of days for Benji to give me an actual response. "I mean it's possible, but why now?"

"You've got a point." He frowned. "Maybe he thinks you like him? Or is fearful of you eventually liking him?"

"That's not funny," I said. "I don't want him to know that I actually had a crush on him."

"I know." He held up his hands. "And I'd never tell him that, but maybe he suspects that and is distancing himself from you?"

"And what, he's pushing you away for the same reasons?"

"What, no." He scoffed, almost defensive. "I'm just wondering. I mean, when was it that you knew your friendship with him meant more to you?"

"I don't know." I fiddled with my hands. "I already knew so much about him and his personal life. Some secrets of his, and everything. I guess, gradually I just becomes so dependent on him that I couldn't see myself not being by his side. Whether as a friend or more."

"But how did you know that?" He seemed genuinely interested. "How did you know it wasn't a friendship anymore? That you felt like it was a crush? That you had these feelings."

I blinked. "I don't know? I guess it was just gradual? I don't think I can explain it, Mase. There were days I'd start imagining things that I hadn't before. Things that felt wrong, but right in a way."

"Like what?"

I looked at him curiously. "Mason, what—why are you—"

"Imagined what?"

With a sigh, I glanced out the window. "I dunno, I guess when I started picturing me there beside him instead of his girlfriends, or when I wondered what kissing him would feel like? Being attached to his side all the time, holding hands, those little things couples do. I guess I just started fantasizing all those things."

He hummed, his eyes glazing over like he was zoning out again. "Mason?"

He turned to me, his eyes looking at mine through his lashes before falling lower.

Before I knew or even react to what was happening, Mason had leaned forward, his lips brushing against mine in a firm kiss.