Faking Perfection

7|Sated

𝟽|𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍

"Not bad. You're getting better." Mason passes me over one of his pop quizzes he created, and I groan when another failing grade is marked at the top. This is the third quiz I've taken in the past two days, and I still can't seem to pass.

"It's still failing. I'm never going to be able to pass the actual test next week."

He gathers up the textbooks in front of him, which I've come to realize is a hint that our session has wrapped up for the day. "Not with that attitude you won't. What is it about the quizzes that bother you the most? Is there something I can do differently to make it easier for you?"

I shake my head "No. I just...psych myself out as soon as I start. I can't explain it. I've been studying every night, and I know the answers are in my head, but as soon as I look at the paper I just freeze up, and all of the doubts in my head just get louder."

Mason glances around the library and nods slowly. "Okay, I'm going to make some adjustments for Monday's quiz and see if it makes it any better."

"Seriously? Don't you ever do anything fun outside of school? It's a Friday night, Mason."

He bristles, and just from that very action alone I assume he never has plans for the weekend. Studying is all he knows, and it's sad. A high school student should have just a little bit of fun.

"I mean, I have basketball practice," he says.

I scoff. "That's still school related. You only play basketball so that it looks good on your college transcript. Am I wrong?"

Muttering something under his breath I don't catch, he scrapes his chair back against the hardwood floors of the library and shoves his textbooks inside. I must have hit a sensitive subject. "Look, I have practice, so I have to go."

"Mason, I didn't mean to upset you, I just —"

"Really? Because you have a weird way of showing it. No, I don't have friends. I don't go to fancy parties and fuck every night like you do. I don't have everyone dropping at my feet as I walk down the hall. I'm trying to get somewhere in life, and I'm not going to apologize for that."

I'm trying not to let his words hurt my ego, but they do. They definitely do. Mainly because I wasn't trying to make fun of him. I was trying to find a solution for him. I want him to be able to have fun like everyone else and just relax a bit.

He heaves out a sigh. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. There's nothing wrong with partying or fucking, and I do wish sometimes that I could be that person. Going to that party with you was more fun than I'd like to admit, It's just embarrassing that I stick out like a sore thumb at those places."

Images of his face between my breasts as he took that shot seep into my head, my cheeks growing hot. I don't know how, but it's almost like Mason can read me like a damn book. He scans my eyes and lets out a laugh. "I think about that night a lot, if I'm being honest."

His gaze drops down to my fishnet tights, and then he analyzes my mini skirt, then my crop top, which emphasizes my breasts. I'll admit that I changed into this after school just to get a reaction out of him. I hate that I'm such a flirt, but I am. Mason is getting under my skin no matter how much I don't want him to.

"I'll tell you what," I say, leaning forward so that my elbows are on the table. I peek up at him and bat my eyelashes relentlessly, earning a laugh from him. It's disgusting how much my heart seems to like the sound. "Saturday night I'll take you out of your house for some fun."

He arches a brow. "Another party?"

"No. Fun doesn't always mean drinking your ass off. It's a surprise. You'll have to wait and see."

After a few seconds, he concedes. "Okay. Looking forward to it, Isabelle."

"You know I hate that—"

My phone begins to vibrate on the table, a shirtless picture of Zane popping up on the screen. I'm supposed to be going to his house after school to do what we do best. Especially since I never ended up coming over a few nights ago like I promised I would.

Mason's jaw clenches, and the flirtatious moment shared between us completely vanishes. "Didn't mean to keep you," he mutters, and before I can reply, he stalks off for the doors.

_________

I'm lying on top of Zane's comforter sprawled out completely naked as he changes into a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Normally, I don't stick around, but I came so hard I saw stars, and it had nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.

"I think that was some of my best work," he says smugly. "You seem sated."

A smile tugs at my lips as I lean up on my elbows, trying to gain the strength to get up and get dressed. My clothing is scattered across his carpet, and I reach behind me to grab my thong that somehow didn't make it to the floor.

I finally pull myself off his bed and tug the thong up on my thighs, trying to ignore the guilty feeling I have budding in my chest. Zane and I aren't in a relationship. We are both under the same agreement that this is just sex, so what does it matter if I didn't keep my eyes open during it for the first time?

Is it wrong that I came to the thought of Mason's head between my thighs instead? That I pictured my hand in his curls instead of Zane's locks? I don't know if that makes me a bad person or not, but apparently my conscience thinks it does.

He frowns at his phone. "Fuck. I need you to go out the back door. My Dad is coming home soon."

"Oh, really?" I've never met his Dad before. I don't even know who his Dad is, but it's not like I'm offended I'm not being introduced, or the fact he's trying to rush me out. I'm not his girlfriend, but throughout our time being together, I've grown to know him much more than I ever planned to, which is why I ask, "Are you okay?"

His fingers clutch his phone tightly to try and stop the shaking, but I already noticed it. He seems scared, or nervous, and I want to know why.

"I'm fine, you just have to go. Now."

Without another word, I finish putting my clothes back on and don't even ask to use the bathroom. I'll wait until I get home. "Are you worried about him finding out I was here? Is he not okay with that sort of thing?"

"What? No—" He checks his phone again and cusses. "I'll walk you out. Come on."

We're doing a speed walk down the large hallways of his mansion, weird random art pieces hung on the walls whipping by me in a blur. I've walked down this hallway plenty of times, but I've never taken the time to inspect anything. I don't know why that's changed now.

"Does he hurt you, Zane? I don't want to leave you alone if that's the case." We may be friends with benefits, but he's my friend all the same. I care about him deeply, and if something is going on at home then I'm going to try and help.

"Iz, you don't need to be concerned about me. It's fine. I just don't want you here when he gets home."

"But why?"

He whirls around to face me, gripping my upper arms with a force he never has before. "Please just fucking listen to me for once and leave, okay? I know you're this independent badass, but I'm the one trying to help you. You don't want to get involved in something you have no business being a part of."

He lets me go and opens up the backdoor that leads to the backyard where the pool and the gate are. My arms are still hurting from his grasp, but I'm too in shock to even comment on it. His eyes are wild and scared and begging me to go.

"Fine," I huff, "but we aren't done talking about this, Zane. Not in the least bit."

A/N:

Oooooooooh things are getting good!!!

What did you guys think?!

Please comment/vote!!

See you next Monday :)

Twitter: believeeexoxo
Instagram: deannafaison_
Tiktok: authordeannafaison