In Transit

Mason Montgomery used to be a normal girl. She used to go out with her friends. She used to have boyfriends and relationships.

She used to.

May 2015

Her body glistened with perspiration as she danced along with the beat of the music. She was barely aware of her surroundings, having drank until her throat no longer burned, until her body felt numb. She didn’t care about much. She didn’t have a need to care. She just hoped the night would end with either her blacking out in her bed alone or her finding a guy to take her home with him – either option would suffice.

Her friends were nowhere in sight, though she didn’t care much to know where they were or what they were doing. She could tell they were nearly fed up with her. She had been stuck in a haze of depression for far too long and they all acted as though her recovery was beneath them. Oh sure, they were caring in the beginning. But once they realized she wasn’t getting over it, she wasn’t getting better, they acted like she was faking it – that she shouldn’t feel the sense of emptiness she felt without the two most important people in her life. Her parents were dead and she was supposed to just get over that.

Her idea of getting over it was swallowing a half a bottle of her grandmother’s pain meds.

When she woke up the next day in the hospital, she didn’t feel relief that her life hadn’t ended. She wasn’t happy she got a second chance at life. She just got another burden placed upon her shoulders – because after that, she had to work twice as hard to act like everything was okay even though it wasn’t.

And nights like this, she used her fake I.D. and spent her evening getting drunk on the dance floor, hoping to end another shitty day with a happy ending.

And sure enough, her happy ending was headed her way – mister tall, dark, and handsome.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The guy breathed in her ear, just loud enough so she could hear him over the music. His voice was deep and it sent a shiver up her spine.

“Sure,” she cooed, smiling up at him, giving him her best smoldering eye. She was only nineteen, but she knew a thing or two about picking up men. She learned fast, observing people interacting, and it helped her get what she wanted.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the bar before turning to her with a smile on his face.

“I bet a girl like you can handle some tequila, huh?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow at her.

“Make it a double,” she challenged, smirking at him.

“You got it, girl,” he chuckled lightly before he turned to get the bartenders attention.

Mason’s eyes slid slyly up his frame, realizing through her impaired state he was extremely attractive, which sent a wave of pride through her entire body for being able to attract someone of his magnitude. He stood tall, wearing dark skinny jeans and a white fitted t-shirt with a silver chain around his neck, tucked just out of sight, and a pair of dark boots on his feet. He had perfect milky skin, a short crop of curly-ish hair on his head, and a piercing green eyes. He was beautiful. But the thing that really caught her was the sadness she saw in his eyes. Somehow it made him so much more worth it. Maybe he was there trying his hardest to forget something too. Maybe she could be the one to help him for the night the same way he could help her. Maybe they could be that for each other.

“Ready?” He asked as he turned and smirked at her. She didn’t even realize the bartender already poured their shots. She was so focused on the enigma standing in front of her.

“Ready,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at him. The two of them quickly took the shots and eyed each other.

“You good?”

“Perfect,” she purred, feeling the alcohol rush through her veins. Her body felt numb and it was amazing.

“Wanna dance?” He asked over the thrumming of the music.

“Now,” she giggled, gripping onto his hand, leading him back out to the dance floor.

Mason felt his strong arm wrap around her waist as she danced with her back to him. The music was so loud. She could feel the bass booming in her chest, and she loved that feeling. She also loved the feeling of his hands exploring her hips and his stubble softly scratching her shoulder as his warm breath whirred passed her ear.

She spun in his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders. Their eyes connected in almost a trance and she could feel her blood warm in her veins. When his lips pressed against hers, she knew she would be going home with him. She knew it the second he took it there. She was certain she might possibly do anything to end the night underneath a man like him.

“You want to go somewhere?” He breathed in her ear.

“More than anything,” she told him honestly.

It was a blur from the time they left the club, to the ride in the cab – she remembered they almost couldn’t keep their hands off one another – and then she was standing in his apartment. She was standing in a man’s apartment; a man she didn’t know; she didn’t even know his name. She was just waiting – waiting to be fucked. Waiting to be forgotten – waiting to forget.

His hands slithered up her body as his lips crashed into hers, his fingers tangling up in her long dark hair. She was already ready for him – the cab ride was enough to get her there. She wanted it to be fast and dirty and she was certain he was looking for the same.

Her palms pushed up his t-shirt as their mouths worked over one another’s. She wanted to be naked and wanted him naked.

“Fuck, just take this off,” she growled against his mouth as she tugged on his shirt.

“Gladly,” he said with a bob of his eyebrows before he slipped it up and off before throwing it on the floor in the end.

By the time his eyes met back up with hers, her skimpy black dress was already pooled at her ankles. Her fingertips stroked down the hard muscles of his abdomen as she appreciated every tattooed inch of him that was on display for her. His entire body was long and lean, and was any girls dream.

It didn’t take long before her fast fingers worked to open his belt buckle as her mouth pressed against his, their tongues moving fluidly together. His hands palmed at her breasts through the shear fabric of her bra and it sent waves of pleasure soaring through her every time his thumbs flicked over the hardening buds of her nipples.

“Oh, god,” she groaned as her head tipped back and his lips and teeth nipped and kissed down her jawline, before sliding smoothly down her neck.

His hand dipped into the front of her panties, his fingers dipping even lower, lightly massaging her.

“Now,” she demanded, pressing her hands firmly to his chest as she pushed him backwards toward his bed.

He chuckled lightly as his body bounced against the mattress. She wasted no time, quickly pulling his jeans down his legs, before coming back up to rid him of his black boxer briefs.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a club like that all alone?” He asked, and Mason realized it was the most he ever said to her. It was the deepest conversation they had in the short time they were in each other’s presence.

“Trying to forget,” she told him truthfully.

He didn’t ask for elaboration, or press her to spill her guts. He just looked up at her and nodded his head, like he really understood what she meant.

“Me too,” he said quietly. She almost missed it as she tugged her bra down her arms, but she caught the words as they trailed off his tongue.

Her eyes looked into his and she saw the sadness again; it hadn’t gone away. He did a great job of trying to mask it, but it was there in those green orbs. And it made her wonder if her sadness was that easy to read. But she also couldn’t help but think, it takes one to know one.

“Come here,” he said, gripping onto her hips as he pulled her down on the bed onto her back, leaning over the top of her to kiss her hard.

A second later he dug in his nightstand drawer and produced a condom to make their one night stand a little safer.

“I can make you forget,” he breathed as he hovered above her.

“You can try,” she challenged, and he took it.

He entered her moments later, causing her to cry out, tossing her head back against the mattress. He didn’t waste another second on making sure she was comfortable, he just went and everything seemed to fall into place – the hitch in their breathing, the sound of their skin-on-skin, the rapid beating of their hearts.

Her knees were pulled up, pressed firmly against his hips and she was clawing at the sheets wanting more and more. Her body reacted well to his break-neck speed. She watched the muscles ripple in his arms as he towered over her. She watched the way his face screwed up with pleasure. She watched what she was doing to him. He was beautiful. He was broken and it made him perfect in her eyes.

He never let up, not even when she was moaning out in ecstasy. He kept going until she plowed through a nearly body-crippling orgasm. He never slowed down, not until he too, found his end.

The challenge had been fulfilled in his favor, because in those moments, he was all she could see. The boy who made her forget.

Afterward, Mason pretended to fall asleep as they lay together in his big bed. And once she heard his breathing even out, she quietly dressed and snuck out of his apartment. She didn’t leave her number. She never even got his name. She just left, because it was never supposed to be anything more than what it was.

September 2016

“Mason!” Her friend April shrieked as she stood outside of the car.

Mason’s body jumped with startling realization that they arrived at their destination and she needed to get out of the car, and get out of her head.

“Sorry,” Mason said quietly as she pushed open the door and slipped out onto the pavement.

“What’s going on with you?” April chuckled blithely.

“Sorry. I was just… never mind,” Mason told her as she waved her hand through the air.

“Come on. There are some people I want you to meet,” she said, smiling widely as she grabbed onto Mason’s hand and pulled her toward the nearby apartment complex.

Mason wasn’t sure why she even agreed to go to a party with April in the first place. It wasn’t like they even knew each other very well. They had only worked together for a couple months. Mason liked her though. She was always nice, even when she didn’t have to be. And she always went out of her way to try to brighten Mason’s day. She knew she didn’t deserve a friend like April, because she knew she wasn’t nearly half the friend she was, but that never stopped April from being there.

The apartment was already full of people casually partying. There was a keg in the kitchen with a five dollar per cup charge for all-you-can-drink beer, which was a pretty good deal if a person liked beer. Luckily for Mason, she liked anything that lowered her inhibitions. Although at a party like this, she knew she’d never become the girl she was when she went out to the clubs. She was like a chameleon, changing herself to fit the mood and atmosphere of everyone and everything around her. There wasn’t a soul left on earth who knew the real her. She wasn’t even sure she did anymore. The girl who she was before died along with her parents.

“This is fun, right?” April asked, smiling over at her.

“Yeah,” Mason said, sending her an enthusiastic smile – at least she tried.

“Come on. My friends are in here,” she said, pulling Mason toward the living room.

“Casey!” April shrieked, throwing her arms around a pretty brunette girl.

“April!” The girl said in the same excited fashion, and Mason couldn’t help but think of how awful it was to be a girl sometimes. She never wanted to be the type of girl who couldn’t live her own life without their B-F-F’s doing everything they were doing with them. Girls like April and Casey couldn’t even pee alone or make decisions without their best friend’s consent. Mason just never wanted that to be her, ever. And a part of her felt like the lifeless black hole inside of her was a gift.

“Mason, this is my best friend, Casey. Casey this is the girl I was telling you about – Mason,” April said, introducing the two girls.

“Hi,” Mason said quietly, observing the beautiful girl with silky brown hair and wide blue eyes. She was, by definition, a guy’s wet dream. She had long tan legs that held up her slender frame, and perky breasts, topped off with an overtly pretty face. She was everything Mason wasn’t, and it was hard not to feel a little self-conscious in her presence.

“Wow. It’s so nice to meet you,” Casey said exuberantly, her words already slurring as she threw her arms around Mason in a hug. Mason’s body stiffened with the contact, but it was over in an instant and April was ready to introduce her to the rest of her friends.

“Oh my god, Harry! You’re finally here!” Casey shrieked so close to Mason’s ear that she thought she might have gone deaf for a second.

“Hey, Cass,” Mason heard and turned just in time to see Casey sucking face with who she could only assume was her boyfriend.

After the initial introductions were over, Mason hung back slightly, taking large pulls off of her cup of beer, wishing she had something stronger to help her get through the night. She was stuck in a world of frat boys and cheerleaders, and it kind of made her want to slit her wrists and let all the blood drain from her veins.

“Are you having fun?” April asked, smiling at Mason again; it made her feel bad that she was worried about her. Mason nodded her head and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Good,” April said, smiling genuinely at her.

Mason’s eyes wandered over the group of people in the vicinity, wondering if she could relate to anyone. She felt alone in the crowded room – until her eyes fell upon someone who was looking back into hers with a familiar sadness. Immediately her heart sped up as she was brought back to that reckless night over one year ago.

Him.

It was him. The dark curly hair, the sad eyes. It was him. And he saw her too. His eyes didn’t look away, but she had to.

“I’m gonna find the bathroom,” Mason whispered in April’s ear and she sent her off with a smile.

Mason snaked through the crowd as her head spiraled. His eyes haunted her dreams for over a year. She always saw them, she always ran to him, she always tried to save him, but she never could. It was the same dream over and over. He had a sadness she could never touch. Not in her dreams; not in real life.

Mason’s chest heaved as a panic attack overwhelmed her. She felt like her lungs were about to explode. And just as she found the haven of the bathroom, she felt a hand on her arm, gripping tightly as she was pushed into the bathroom, the door closing behind her.

Mason’s breathing hitched in her throat as her back hit the wall. As the lights turned on in the small room, they were nearly blinding.

“It’s you,” he breathed, and her eyes met with his again as her lungs fought to find air to breathe.

Notes