Thursday eventually rolled around and all week I'd been avoiding Mason – or at least doing my best, considering I slept down the hall from him. I felt guilty about it, but I couldn't allow myself to get closer to him. So every time he'd try to initiate a conversation, I pushed aside my guilt and stopped it from getting anywhere early.

I sighed and slammed my locker shut after school before walking towards the library. I pushed the library doors open and to see Dallas already seated at a table. I smirked and set my books down.

"Wow, are we actually ready to learn today?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, but I had nothing better to do," Dallas responded. I rolled my eyes and sat down across from him.

"Okay, well let's start then."

We flipped open our books and began working away... or at least I did. Dallas was focused for the first fifteen minutes, but by another thirty minutes in, he was cracking jokes and making careless mistakes..

"No, Dallas! That's not the right formula to figure that out," I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. "Are you even paying attention? If you aren't, I can go home right now!" I wasn't even sure why I was wasting my time with him. I was pretty sure he wasn't learning, and I was just getting frustrated and annoyed.

"Shhh for a minute," he replied, holding up a finger.

"What?" I snapped. Dallas' blue-green eyes lit up in amusement.

"I like it when you're feisty... you're like a little tiger," he said with a smirk. "It's sexy."

"Oooh-kay. We are so done here!" I replied standing up and gathering my things. "I'll see you next week... maybe," I added. Dallas leaned back in his chair and watched me with a mischievous look on his face. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started walking towards the door, hiding the discomfort I felt with a scowl.

"Don't be a spoiled sport," Dallas said, grabbing my wrist suddenly. I froze for a second before I swallowed the panic and yanked my wrist out from his grip. I gave him a final glare before storming out of the library.

I headed straight towards my locker, fuming, only to see Mason leaning next to it. While I was mostly frustrated to see him, a part of me was relieved he was there, in case Dallas was behind me.

"Hey," he said with a cautious smile.

"I thought you left already," I replied. Mason's features slipped into a slight frown, making the guilt rise in my chest. I swallowed it; it was better this way.

"I told my mom I'd drive you home," he said. I nodded, avoiding eye contact as I opened my locker.

"Thanks," I said as I switched out my books.

***

I opened my eyes to see that I was almost completely engulfed by darkness. The only light was the hazy glow of a gas station cutting through the fog. I looked around in confusion, and wondered how I got here.

I noticed a man standing beside a gas pump and a familiar car. Walking closer, I realized he had brown skin, and dark curls. My father.

Suddenly, everything came flooding back to me.

This day.

This gas station.

I knew we needed to leave and it had to be now.

I ran towards him, but it seemed to take much longer than I expected. My lungs were working overtime as my legs propelled me forward. By the time I reached my dad, a shadow had crept behind him. A large looming shadow, that seemed darker than the unknown surrounding the gas station.

I glanced up into the hooded face of a killer. I began to pull my dad's hands and I tried screaming. But the words were stuck in my throat. My dad's eyes went wide and I tried to pull him away, but my fingertips were slipping.

Suddenly, he went limp and I lifted a hand to see it was covered in bright red blood. A sinister chuckle came from behind my father's body and finally a scream escaped my lips.

***

I sat up quickly and spastically looked around in the darkness. I realized I was still in my temporary bedroom at Mason's house and buried my face in my hands, trying to control my breathing and stop my tears.

Nightmares like these plagued my mind every night and yet I couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face. This one of the three versions of the same dream that recurred and taunted me in my sleep.

The bedroom door swung open and I almost jumped fifty feet into the air. In the doorway, stood Mason with a tennis racket in hand. I stared at him in confusion, while trying to settle down from the fright.

"What happened?" he exclaimed. He looked around the room and realized there was no immediate threat. "You screamed! I thought you were being murdered or something," Mason explained. I winced slightly at his word choice but tried to make a joke out of it.

"What were you going to do... serve them?" I asked. It sounded strained even to me. Mason let out a small laugh, but we both know that it was only for my benefit. "Thank you for checking on me... I'm fine though."

"No, you're not," he replied, walking further into the room. "You're crying."

"I just had a nightmare," I mumbled. "I'm okay."

"What did you dream about?" Mason asked, sitting down on my bed and completely ignoring my subsequent statement. Something told me that he wouldn't leave until he gets an explanation. I sighed, thinking it might just be easier to tell him and get it out of the way. I played with my fingers, not really sure where to begin.

"You know, how I told you about my dad?" I started. "I didn't tell you all the details."

No, Charlie, this is bad. You can't get close to him like this. My brain screamed. I took a deep breath and pushed past my loud thoughts, knowing Mason likely wasn't going to let me sleep until I gave him something.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"He was stabbed to death at a gas station... and I was there."

It came out so softly I wasn't sure I'd said it. But the slightly horrified expression on Mason's face confirmed that I did.

I kept talking, though I wasn't entirely sure why. It was like once the words sank in, my mouth was an open faucet.

"We were at the gas station on the way back from a movie that I wanted to see. It's all my fault that he's dead," I whispered, burying my face in my hands as fresh tears streamed down my face. I felt Mason's arms around me, comforting me as I cried.

"Charlie, it's not your fault. There's nothing you could have done," he said soothingly.

"What if there is?" I asked quietly. "What if I could have yelled to my dad to watch out? What if I could have screamed for that man to scare him away? I could have, but I didn't. I wasn't able to. It is my fault. My mother even said so before–" I cut my rambling short. I'd shared more than enough for the night. I wasn't going to say anything more.

Mason sat quietly for a moment, letting my breathing slow, before he pulled back to look at me.

"There is nothing you could have done to change what happened Charlie," he told me firmly. "No matter what anyone says."

I bit my lip thinking about what he said. I always thought it was my fault. It was instilled in my mind. But Mason didn't think so. He wanted me to believe otherwise.

I hadn't ever told anyone the way I felt about that before and I wasn't sure why I'd tell Mason. But once it was out there, and hearing him comfort me it didn't feel so wrong.

Maybe, just maybe, Mason was trying to help me. Maybe he might actually care. Maybe I might need him more than I thought.

__________________

Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone! I hope 2022 is good to you all! <3

Sorry for my delay in posting chapters, it has been a hectic time, but I'm hoping to start posting more frequently on here!  I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!! Let me know what you think might happen next!