⌗ 1

Riley fixes her hair into a messy bun, which in my head, sounds almost ridiculous—only because her version of a messy bun is absolutely gorgeous. Part of me thinks she does it to be a tease. Which she always is of course.

I close my text book shut and look into her eyes, "Riley, isn't the whole idea of a messy bun for it to be slightly messy?" I questioned.

She pushes her glasses upward so they're back in place, "It is messy. What are you talking about?" She laughed cutely. "It always is."

I shake my head in disagreement, "Well you're terribly wrong, Marsh. No offence. It's the truth," I shrug. "And you're gonna have to deal with it."

She raises a brow and holds both her hands out, "Ok, so what do you suggest I do about it? I know you well enough to know you won't shut this conversation down until you're content."

I feel my smile turn into a mischievous grin. "I wouldn't say it's a suggestion but..." I run my fingers through her dark brown hair and ruffle it just enough to make it messy but not drastic.

Riley turns to the mirror by my vanity and stares at herself for a mere moment before turning her head back to face me. "Well I can't argue with that," She chuckled. "Happy now?"

I nod proudly, "Absolutely. Now your bun is quite literally messy. However, may I add the very obvious fact that regardless... you look great."

Great? Sure. But in reality, she's gorgeous. But I've never mustered the strength to tell her that. Cowardly, I know. But wouldn't it sound more than friendly? Either way, it's not happening.

Riley smiles from ear to ear—the kind that makes my stomach turn into knots. Everything she does makes me want to drive my head into the wall. She makes it seem so easy... and it shouldn't be. But I'm way down the rabbit hole now to even turn it down when it's a well known fact.

Not to her—thank God. But to my friends? It's a headline in the group chat almost every day. Or every hour of the day. It's annoying. But deep down I actually enjoy it. They support it. This.

This terribly one sided crush of mine. This crush that in their minds doesn't seem all that one sided. Which to me, sounds ridiculous. I don't think so. I never thought so. I try my best to stray away from the idea of being delusional or in my head about things. Especially this.

I don't want to get my hopes up. And neither are they. But seemingly enough, they seem quite proud in their endeavours of trying to prove themselves right while I 'sit and try to convince myself otherwise of the undeniable truth'.

But those aren't my words. Those are their words. More specifically... Mara's words. Which is ironic considering the very fact that she has no clue that Mavis likes her back.

Mavis has never once tried to be subtle about her feelings for Mara. At this point in time, I'm well convinced that the whole school knows her feelings. Except Mara.

Mara's  head is under a giant rock. An 'I wish she liked me back' rock. But if she actually tried to remove her head from under all that nonsense, she'd actually realise that Mavis LIKES HER BACK! But she'll figure out soon enough. Hopefully... Surely... in fifty years give or take.

I love her—and I would NEVER admit that to Mara's face. But sometimes... she's kinda stupid. For reasons that you already know yourself. So why would I believe anything she says about Riley? She can't like me back. She doesn't!

And no I'm not in denial. I could never be in denial. But would it sound like I am if I say that I'm not in denial? Moving on.... swiftly.

"Enough with the compliments," Riley giggled. "I need you. And I'd like to spend this wonderful night with you to do... this." She points to the stack of textbooks, loose sheets and the mountain of study cards on the desk in front of us.

I need you.

"You don't need me to tutor you... or to need me in general," I can feel my cheeks burn up. It's only a matter of time before they turn bright red.

"Maisie, you sound ridiculous right now," She laughed. "Do you hear yourself?"

I can hear myself perfectly clear. But not as clear as how my name sounds when she says it. I can hear it echoing in the back of my mind.

No one calls me Maisie—no one can. I'm Mason. To family, to friends and to everyone else that I cross paths with in this lifetime.

But to Riley, I'm Maisie. Just Maisie. A special little nickname that she has exclusive rights to.

"Yes—I hear myself just fine," I smile. "Perfectly, I might add. I might as well have super sonic hearing or something." I shrugged.

Riley bursts into a fit of laughter. "Dork."

I furrow my brows. "Am not." I cross my arms.

She pats the top of my head gently and smiles, "Well, since you have super sonic hearing..." She leans forward and inches closer to me. "I'm sure you can hear this."

I feel my heart drum against my chest. Her lips are so close to my neck. Lord, I am not your strongest soldier. Not now. Not ever.

"I need you." Riley said whispered. Her breath against the crook of my neck sends shivers down my spine. Never mind about being perfectly healthy, I could pass away any second now.

I pull away slowly—looking into her hazel eyes. "Riley, you really don't need a tutor. You're perfectly fine without one—or me—and you've got really good grades so I'm honestly—"

She holds a finger against my lips and shakes her head in disagreement, "I need you, Maisie. Not just for tutoring but for a lot of things..."

"You really don't—"

She tilts her head and looks at me with those let me speak eyes that shuts me up way too quickly.

"It's not just about tutoring. It's about the time I get to spend with you and things we get to experience. It's so important to me."

We've spent the last few months with this routine. Riley comes over every Saturday night to get tutored. Again, not that she needs it, but more so to comply with the school rules and to keep her scholarship.

Riley is witty, intelligent and truly articulate. There's so many great things about her that inspire me to be better.

And this arrangement has given me the perfect opportunity to get out there and come out of my shell a little bit. I'm a hermit, really. I like to be alone, far away from people. I like the solitude I get. My Mum begs to differ however. Says it's just my excuse to get away from people. Though, it's no excuse... I just don't like people.

But Riley's changed that a little bit. I've had the girls over a couple times—but a lot of the time I curl up in bed and take a nap and let them do whatever they like and hope and pray in my mind that they don't set anything on fire.

It's all about being in each other's company after all. I just prefer it when I'm asleep. They're grown. They can find the kitchen and cut the crust of their sandwiches if they're hungry.

Meanwhile, it's different when it comes to her. No shocker, Mason. I enjoy our time together like it would run out if I blink.

To be honest, I didn't even realise I had gotten feelings for Riley till Mavis came unannounced one evening with a sleeping bag and a teddy bear.

"I didn't know you liked her."

I remember Mavis' attempt at being discreet, though I hardly believe it, she's the very opposite of discreet. She's a menace—and thinks her version of a whisper is so subtle—but it's not.

I prayed and thanked the Heavens all in one night and to my luck—Riley hadn't heard it. But this is my night routine. It has been for a while now. And it might be my favourite routine of all. I may not be popular or extroverted, but at least I've got a girl that makes me feel like I'm on top of the world. I like her a lot. And I like this moment just as much. Even if we're nothing close to nothing. It's being in each other's presence that makes my heart feel warm.

"You're important to me too, Riley."