If Mason is to be believed and it’s not because I’m gay, then what?

I know I fucked up when we were kids, when I told the principal what he told me—what he begged me to leave well enough alone. But did I listen? No.

Still...

Something’s just not making sense. I’m missing some piece of the puzzle. But what?

“It’s nothing personal, okay? He’s just...” Mason trails off, looking at Shawn for help.

“What you need to know about those two,” Shawn says casually, “is that Ivy hates everyone at first. That’s just a given. And Way...” He shrugs. “Well, he couldn’t try to care less about anyone or anything.”

I frown just as Mason whispers his name, almost as if in warning.

Try to? What does that mean?

Shawn grunts, and tosses his lighter on the table. “Fine. Except maybe us.” His frown deepens slightly, and he directs his words to me once more. “Look, I’m not trying to be a prick. It’s just the truth. They don’t exactly play well with others.”

“And you do?”

“No.”

Surprised by his bluntness, I lean back. “You don’t trust me.”

“Why should I?” He shrugs. “Why should any of us?”

Nodding, I stroke a thumb over my jaw. “You’re right. You have absolutely no reason to.”

“Will—”

I hold up a hand, cutting Mason off. “It’s cool. I told you earlier. I get it, man.”

And I do, even if I don’t have all the facts. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last year, it’s that there’s always more to the story. Nothing’s ever as simple as it seems.

And more than not, we only see what we want to see.

Everyone has a story that’s as complicated as it is valid. What right do I have to come in here and expect to be welcomed? What right does anybody have?

Mason shakes his head. “Listen, it’s nothing personal, okay? Life’s just been a bit of a bitch these last few years. To all of us. In more ways than you know.” He gives me a pained smile. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of a mess.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I take a moment to reflect back on what I learned earlier today and what I’ve observed tonight.

Little things, like the fact that Shawn and Mason haven’t had a drop of alcohol all night. I didn’t miss the fact they swapped out their so-called post-show tradition of tequila shots with little glasses of what appeared to be soda. Or the bottles of water that have seemed like an extension of their hands whenever they weren’t on stage.

Mason and Waylon’s earlier conversation comes back to me again:

“I’m a drug addict.”

“Recovering!”