Fallen Fourth Down (Fallen Crest High #4)(38)

Mason laughed, then shrugged. “The frat stuff probably is. I don’t know about the club, but,” he gestured to the tall buildings around us as we headed through a quad, “this is what college is like. I walk through here every day.” We were coming up to a large black glass building. As we drew closer, I saw faint shadows from inside, where people were, but the place looked like a nightclub as well.

I raised an eyebrow. “This is the diner?”

“Yeah.” He reached for the door. I went first and his hand settled on the small of my back. “The team eats here during the day; it’s got a buffet, including a salad bar, so you can get whatever you like.”

“You had me at buffet.” But the salad bar sounded good too.

Mason paid for both of us right away. “Yo.” Logan waved from a corner booth. It curved into the wall and could sit eight people comfortably. Kris was sitting right next to Logan, squished beside him. His hand was under the table, as were hers. Her shoulders were also hunched forward and pinched together, like she was trying to appear as small as she could get. There were bags under her eyes, and she seemed pale. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

I grinned. She was hung-over. Logan, on the other hand, was beaming. He continued to wave until we scooted in with him. Mason slid next to Logan, and I took the end. There was enough room so we didn’t have to move all the way in, and remained at the edge of the booth.

Logan asked, “Nate coming…” His question faded as his gaze went over our shoulders. His eyes widened, and his mouth moved into a silent O.

Mason looked first. The exhaustion from Kris was contagious. Some of my own seeped in and I was too lazy to turn all the way around. I felt Mason tense—he wouldn’t have tensed if it was only Nate—so I turned to look, and I saw her. She was tiny. She had her brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Unlike Kris’, which looked cute and messy, this girl’s was sleek and pristine. Her hair was long too, falling past her shoulders. Two things caught my attention more than anything. One, she was holding Nate’s hand. No, correction, she had a death grip on his hand with both of hers, and two, her gaze was glued to Mason’s, like she feared his reaction.

Logan muttered, “As far as twists come, this one sucks balls.” He shot a glare at Nate and muttered, “I thought the mantra was no dumb shits allowed?”

“Logan!”

Tate’s voice came back to me. “Has he told you that Marissa’s going to Cain University too?” It clicked, and it felt like an anchor dropped inside me. This was Marissa, and no, Mason never told me. I snuck a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He wasn’t looking at me. His jaw was clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed together.

I barely remembered her from the one time I almost met her. Mason had kept her away from everyone, myself included, but things were different now. I was closer to him. She was not anymore. As they stopped at the end of the table and stood there, their hesitation was obvious. I couldn’t ignore the flicker of jealousy in me.

Marissa was here. She could be in the same room as him whenever she wanted, within a few minutes. I could not. That alone had my teeth grinding, and I shot Mason another look. He hadn’t told me she was here.

He was studying me this time. The jealousy morphed into anger, and my eyes narrowed at him. We would talk. That was a promise from me to him, and I caught a wary look flash over his face. Oh yes, he got the message loud and clear. Leaning back in the seat, I decided I wasn't going to say a damned thing. This was Mason’s rodeo. I was going to sit back, watch the fireworks, and set off some of my own when I got him alone later.

Marissa was watching me, biting her lip. One of her hands released her grip on Nate’s wrist and tugged down the bottom of her shirt. She was overdressed, wearing a pink sweater, a lacy, white camisole underneath, and a jean miniskirt. I had on a pair of jeans and Mason’s black shirt. It engulfed me, but it was comfortable and smelled like him.

I won. Hands down.

Kris was studying her too. She looked her up and down and glanced down at her own outfit, a hooded sweatshirt and pink sweatpants with a big sequined heart stitched onto one of her pant legs. A soft curse left her and she tucked some of her hair behind her ear, then tried to smooth out the rest. When she realized Logan was still staring, heatedly, across the table, her hand fell back to her lap and her shoulders lifted in a shrug. She settled back like I had and glanced at me. A faint grin was shared between us, and at that moment, we were allies.

I laughed to myself. I hadn’t seen that one coming. We turned, as one, and regarded Marissa again. Her eyes got even bigger at the new attention, and she moved back a step, still holding onto Nate’s wrist. He pulled her forward, gesturing to the booth. “I brought a friend.”

“Really?” Logan grunted.

Nate paused and turned to me since I was on the edge. I wasn’t moving. Seeing that, he guided Marissa to the other side and she scooted in beside Kris. The two girls glanced at each other again. Kris pressed her lips together and gave her a brief smile. Marissa’s hand flicked back up to her face. A strand of her hair was already behind her ear. She untucked it, then tucked it back in place as she bit her lip. Finally, she lifted her head and turned towards us.

She was openly staring at Mason.

Everyone was quiet. It was a matter of seconds before Logan jerked forward. The bomb was about to be detonated.