Page 103 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I just nod, unable to respond without getting emotional. It feels like instinct to quickly push it all away.

She looks up at me and smiles, shaking her head, then pulls me into a full hug I wasn’t prepared for. She wraps her arms around me, and I have to pull my arms out from her grip to hug her back.

I’m not normally a big hugger, so I don’t really know how this works, but it feels like the hug lasts areallylong time. She melts into my chest, and I can feel her laugh.

“What?” I ask, a little offended because I know she’s laughingatme.

“You’re stiffer than a board, Mason…does no one ever hug you?”

“Um…” I say, thinking about it. “No…no, not really.”

She pulls back. “I can tell. Maybe we need to fix that.”

I’ll take her hugs daily like a drug if she’d let me.

“Thank you, Simone.”

“For what?”

“For being you. For always being there. For…actually caring.”

She pats my arm before turning back to her stuff and sitting back down on the floor. “Ask anyone, I don’t let my friends suffer in silence. I’m loud with my caring. Sorry if it’s annoying.”

“Simone? Annoying? Not possible,” I tell her, walking into the room and sitting down next to her suitcase.

She looks confused but still smiles. “What are you doing?”

I pick up a pair of cut-off shorts and hold them in the air. “What does it look like I’m doing? Helping you pack…and also wondering why you have a pair of booty shorts in the pile of clothes you’re packing forwinterbreak?”

She laughs and snatches them from me. “The temperature is supposed to be in the 70’s all next week in Charlotte.”

I roll my eyes and toss them in her suitcase. She instantly snatches them up like I offended her, and then neatly folds them to fit perfectly in her overpacked luggage.

“Since you’re here…grab me the other bag I have to fill up that’s by the closet.”

“You havemorestuff you’re taking?”

“Rule number one, Mason.Neverask a girl about how much she’s packing…it’s all very,verynecessary.”

I walk over to the closet and grab her ridiculously bright pink luggage that could easily fit the rest of this dorm room in it, and walk back over to her.

“Mason…did you shower last night?”

I put my hand over my chest, acting offended. “Do I stink?”

She laughs. “No, you just smell like the liquor from last night still. Geez, it must be coming out of your pores. I think you drank enough for everyone there, all by yourself.”

It’s definitely the fresh alcohol she’s smelling, but I let her think what she wants. Makes me look less like a loser.

“Excuse me for celebrating,” I tease.

She gives me a knowing look.

“Okay, fine. Excuse me for trying to cope with having to go spend the next four to five weeks with the devil himself.”

“Yeah…I’m…sorry about your dad,” she offers, getting serious.

Little does she know I’m a professional steerer awayer from seriousness.