The Dreamer - 7. Chapter 7 - Glowing Up

Part 1 - Homecoming

The small town where Mason had spent most of his life hadn’t changed much in the year he’d been away. The same familiar streets, the same quiet atmosphere, the same faces. But as he stepped off the bus and took in the surroundings, Mason realized he had changed. The year away had opened his eyes to a world beyond this place, and as much as he loved his home, he knew that he wasn’t the same person who had left.

His parents were waiting for him at the bus stop, standing side by side in the afternoon sun. His mother’s face lit up when she saw him, her eyes brimming with tears she quickly wiped away. His father stood with a steady presence, but there was a softness in his expression that Mason hadn’t seen before.

“Mason” His mom called out. She rushed forward and hugged him tightly, holding him close as if she were afraid he might disappear again.

“Hey, Mom,” Mason replied, hugging her tightly. “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

His father stepped forward, placing a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Welcome home, son,” he said, his voice gruff but warm.

Mason nodded, feeling a wave of emotion wash over him. “Thanks, Dad. It’s good to be home.”

The drive back to the house was filled with small talk—questions about the bus ride, how long he would stay, and what he wanted for dinner. The conversation masked deeper emotions, but Mason didn’t mind. He was just glad to be back and feel the familiarity of home again.

When they arrived at the house, his mom insisted on making his favorite meal, despite Mason’s protests that she didn’t have to go to any trouble. As she bustled around the kitchen, Mason sat at the table with his dad, who was flipping through the newspaper but occasionally glanced up at his son.

“So,” his dad began, clearing his throat, “how’s school been?”

Mason took a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. “It’s been… a lot,” he admitted. “At first, it was overwhelming. The city, the classes, everything. But I’ve learned a lot, not just academically, but about myself. I’ve made some mistakes, but I’m trying to learn from them.”

His dad folded the newspaper and set it aside, giving Mason his full attention. “Mistakes, huh? We all make ’em, son. The important thing is that you learn from them.”

Mason nodded, appreciating the understanding in his father’s voice. “Yeah. I’m doing better now. I’ve made some good friends, and school is going well. I think I’ve found my footing.”

His mom chimed in from the kitchen, her voice full of curiosity. “Tell us about the city, Mason. What’s it like?”

Mason smiled, eager to share his experiences. “It’s incredible, Mom. There’s so much to see and do. Museums, parks, theaters—you name it. It’s like a whole different world compared to here. I’ve been trying to take it all in, but there’s just so much.”

His mom paused in her cooking, looking at him with a mix of pride and wistfulness. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, but I miss you being around here.”

Mason felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. “I miss you guys too. But I know I’m where I need to be. There’s so much opportunity in the city, especially with the direction I’m thinking of going.”

His dad raised an eyebrow. “What direction is that?”

Mason leaned forward, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “It’s called Information Technology. It’s this new field that’s supposed to be the next big thing. Computers, networks, all that stuff. I think it’s going to change everything, and I want to be a part of it.”

His parents exchanged a glance, and his dad nodded slowly. “Well, I don't understand any of that but you’ve got your head on straight. If that’s where you see your future, then go for it. We’ll support you whatever you decide.”

Mason felt a surge of gratitude but also a hint of apprehension. He wanted to share so much, but he wasn’t sure how much they were ready to hear. He decided to tread carefully.

“I’ve also got a good roommate, Robby,” Mason added casually, testing the waters. “He’s been a big help, especially when things got tough.”

His mom glanced over her shoulder, her expression curious but neutral. “Robby? That’s nice to hear, Mason. It’s good to have someone you can rely on.”

Mason nodded, relieved that the mention of Robby hadn’t sparked any uncomfortable questions. He wasn’t ready to explain the full extent of their relationship—not yet. There was still too much uncertainty, too much he hadn’t figured out himself.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Mason said, leaving it at that.

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics—family updates, local news, and plans for the summer. As they talked, Mason felt a sense of peace settling over him. There were still challenges ahead, and he knew that not everything could be resolved in one visit. But for now, he was home, and that was enough.

As the evening wore on and the sun dipped below the horizon, Mason sat on the porch with his parents, listening to the familiar sounds of the town settling in for the night. He had come a long way in the past year, and there was still much more to learn and experience. But being here, with his mom and dad, reminded him of where he had come from and how far he had to go.

When his mom reached over and took his hand, gently squeezing it, Mason looked over at her and smiled. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”

She smiled back, her eyes filled with love. “We’re proud of you, Mason. No matter what.”

Mason felt a lump in his throat but kept his voice steady. “That means a lot, Mom. It really does.”

As they sat together, Mason realized that while he had grown and changed, some things remained constant. His family's love and support were among those constants, and he was deeply grateful for that.

He knew the summer ahead would be filled with reflection and preparation for the next steps in his life. But for now, he was content to simply be home, surrounded by the people who had shaped him into the person he was becoming.

Manny had a new suitcase; Robby had lent it to him. He was surprised at how strong their bond had become over the last few months. Robby was a great friend, and as they worked through their own feelings, he would be a good partner—but it was too early to think about that. They… no, he had a lot to work through before he could even consider a serious relationship with Robby.

Manny went into his room, the same as when he left it. His old faded posters are still on the wall, and his old desk and dresser are still there. His parents left everything exactly the way it was the day he left.

It felt good to be home.

Part 2 - Reflections at Home

That evening, Mason settled into the familiar comfort of his parents’ living room, surrounded by the echoes of his childhood. The room hadn’t changed much in the year he’d been away—the same worn but cozy furniture, the same family photos lining the walls. Yet, sitting there now, Mason felt different, more aware of the passage of time and the subtle shifts in his own perspective.

He spent the evening sharing stories about his life in the city, eager to fill his parents in on everything he had experienced. He talked about his dormitory, describing the small room he shared with Robby, the late-night study sessions, and the laughter that often filled the halls. There was something comforting about recounting these stories as if by telling them, he was making sense of his journey so far.

“I’ve made some really good friends,” Mason said, smiling as he thought of the people who had become his support system. “We explore the city on weekends, trying out new places to eat, visiting museums, and just walking around. It’s so different from here—there’s always something to see or do.”

His mom’s eyes lit up with excitement, thrilled to hear about his adventures. “That sounds wonderful, Mason! You’re really making the most of it, aren’t you?”

Mason nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest. “Yeah, I’m trying to. I’m even working once a week at a record shop. It’s a small place, but I love it. I get to listen to all kinds of music and meet different people.”

Sitting in his usual chair, his dad listened quietly, his expression thoughtful. He didn’t say much, but Mason could tell he was paying attention, absorbing every word. Mason had grown accustomed to his father’s quiet ways, understanding that beneath the rough exterior was a man who cared deeply, even if he didn’t always express it in words.

“I went to my first concert, too,” Mason continued, his excitement evident. “It was Duran Duran. I went with a group of friends from school. It was amazing—so much energy, and the music was incredible.”

“It sounds like you had a great time,” said Mason’s mom. “I’ve even heard them!”

Mason couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “Yeah, it was a great time. They’re really popular right now. Their music is everywhere—on the radio, in stores, even at the college parties. It’s a mix of rock, pop, and new wave. It’s hard to describe, but when you hear it, you just want to move.”

His father, who had been quietly listening, glanced at his mom with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious about how she had heard about a band like Duran Duran in their small, sleepy town. His mom, catching the look, smiled and explained.

“I went to the grocery store last week, and they were playing some music on the speaker system. I asked the young lady at the cash register who it was, and she said Duran Duran. ‘But it’s probably not for us older folks,’ she added with a grin. ‘I don’t think your father would dance to it. Your father doesn’t dance — even at prom, he just stared at me from across the gymnasium.’ She quickly glanced at her husband, catching his slight smile in return.”

Mason was stunned by what he was hearing. His mom had always been more reserved, never saying more than necessary and sticking to familiar topics—whether it was music, routines, or even everyday conversations. But in the short time he had been away, it seemed she had changed in her own way, becoming more curious about the world outside their small town. She had never been so talkative before, and Mason realized he liked the changes he saw in her.

“You never know, Mom,” Mason teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe you and Dad could get into it. It’s fun music—very different from what you’re used to, but that’s what makes it exciting.”

His dad, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up, his tone light but with a hint of playfulness. “I’m not sure I’m ready for all that, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it, son. Sounds like you’re getting a real taste of the world out there.”

Mason nodded, feeling a swell of warmth at his father’s words. “Yeah, I am. It’s been an eye-opening experience. The city, the music, the art… it’s all so different from here, but I think it’s helping me figure out who I am and what I want.”

His mom smiled warmly at him. “That’s what this time in your life is all about, Manny. Exploring new things, finding out what you’re passionate about. I’m just glad you’re taking it all in and enjoying yourself.”

Mason felt a sense of pride in his mom’s words and a newfound respect for her. It was as if, in his absence, she had begun her own journey of discovery, even if it was in small ways. Her willingness to engage with something as seemingly trivial as a new band’s music was symbolic of a broader openness, a quiet but meaningful growth that mirrored his own.

“Maybe I’ll bring some of their records home next time I visit,” Mason suggested, half-jokingly. “We can all listen together, and who knows, maybe you’ll like it.”

His mom laughed, shaking her head. “We’ll see about that. But I’d love to hear what you’re doing. It’s a good way to keep up with you, even when you’re far away.”

He also shared his growing interest in art, which had taken him by surprise. “I’ve been spending a lot of time at the art gallery,” he said. “It’s become a place where I can think, reflect. I’ve started exploring my creative side more, trying to figure out what I’m passionate about.”

His mom beamed with pride, clearly thrilled by Mason's embrace of new experiences. “You’ve really grown, Manny. It’s wonderful to see you exploring so many different things.”

Mason’s dad finally spoke up, his voice calm but carrying the weight of his thoughts. “It sounds like you’re finding your way, son. That’s important. Keep following what feels right.”

Mason nodded, appreciating his father’s words more than he could express. Hearing his dad acknowledge his journey, even in that understated way, validated him.

As the conversation lulled, a thought crossed Mason’s mind, one that had been lingering since he arrived home. “Hey, Mom, is my bicycle still around?”

His mom glanced at him, her expression softening with nostalgia. “Yes, it is. We put it in the shed after you left. I wasn’t sure if you’d want it when you came back.”

Mason smiled, a mix of fondness and something deeper tugging at his heart. “I think I’ll take it out tomorrow, go for a ride.”

In truth, the thought of riding his old bicycle stirred up memories Mason had tried to bury. The idea of pedaling down those familiar streets, passing by places that once held so much meaning, brought a bittersweet feeling to the surface. He wasn’t just riding for the sake of it—part of him still wondered about Tony, that lingering what-if that had followed him to the city and back.

He knew the chances were slim, practically nonexistent, that Tony would be there, that he’d find any trace of him after all this time. However, some small, stubborn part of Mason couldn’t let go completely, even as he worked to move forward and strengthen his relationship with Robby.

His mom seemed to sense the deeper thoughts behind his words. “It’s good to get out and clear your head,” she said gently. “Sometimes, going back to the places we know helps us see how far we’ve come.”

Mason nodded, appreciating her understanding. “Yeah, I think I need that.”

That night, as Mason lay in bed, he couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed. The boy who had left this town a year ago, uncertain and full of doubts, wasn’t the same person who had come back. He had grown, matured - through great difficulty, and learned more about himself in ways he hadn’t expected. But coming home, he realized that growth didn’t mean forgetting where he came from—it meant integrating the past with the present, understanding how each step had shaped him.

He thought about the bike ride he would take the next day, the places he would visit, and the memories he would inevitably confront. And though he wasn’t sure what he hoped to find, Mason knew that whatever happened, he was stronger now, more grounded in who he was.

As he drifted off to sleep, Mason felt a sense of peace. He was home, and though things weren’t perfect, he knew he was following his path. There was still so much ahead—his studies, relationships, and future. But for now, he would take things one day at a time, grateful for the journey that had brought him back to this place and ready for whatever came next.

Part 3 - Pedaling Through Memories

The next morning, Mason woke up early, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. The house was still quiet, his parents likely still asleep, but he was eager to get out and explore the town he had left behind nearly a year ago. There was a pull in his chest, a need to see what had changed—or hadn’t—while he’d been away.

He dressed quickly, splashed some water on his face, and grabbed a quick bite from the kitchen before heading outside. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the familiar scent of dew on grass and the distant hum of morning birds. It was the kind of morning that had always made him feel alive like the world was full of possibilities.

Mason made his way to the shed, the wooden door creaking as he pulled it open. Inside, a mix of nostalgia and anticipation washed over him. The shed was just as he remembered—dusty tools hanging on the walls, old cans of paint stacked in the corner, and there, leaning against a pile of rakes and shovels, was his bicycle.

Seeing the bike brought a rush of memories. This old bicycle had been his ticket to freedom as a kid, a way to escape the confines of home and explore the world on his own terms. He remembered the countless hours he had spent pedaling through the town, discovering hidden spots, riding out to the surrounding countryside, and dreaming of the day he would leave this small town for something bigger.

Mason walked over to the bike, running his hand along the worn handlebars. The metal was cool to the touch but familiar, like an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. He could almost hear the distant echoes of his younger self, laughing and shouting as he raced down the streets, feeling the wind whip through his hair.

He carefully pulled the bike out of the shed, checking the tires to ensure they still had air. Satisfied that they were in good shape, he grabbed an old oil can from a nearby shelf and began oiling the chain and other needed parts of the bike. The simple, methodical task gave him time to think and process his mixed emotions.

Once the bike was ready, Mason climbed on, the seat creaking slightly under his weight. He paused for a moment, hands on the handlebars, as he considered where to go first. But deep down, he already knew.

Without giving himself time to second-guess, Mason started pedaling, the familiar rhythm of the bike bringing a sense of calm. The streets were quiet in the early morning light, the town still waking up. As he rode, he noticed the familiar sights—the old grocery store, the park where he used to play, and the houses of neighbors who had watched him grow up. It was all so unchanged, yet it felt different to him now as if he were seeing it through new eyes.

Before long, Mason found himself turning down a street that was all too familiar. His heart beat a little faster as he approached the neighborhood where Tony had lived. The house was just as he remembered, but something was different. The for sale sign that had been there the last time he’d passed by was gone, replaced by a new car in the driveway. The curtains were open, and he could see glimpses of furniture inside. A new family had moved in, making the house their own.

Mason slowed his pace as he passed by, his eyes lingering on the house for just a moment. There was no sign of Tony, no trace of the boy who had once been such a central part of his life. The realization settled over him like a cold weight—it was silly to think Tony might have returned, that anything would be the same. It was time to let him go, to stop holding onto a past that no longer existed.

With a deep breath, Mason kept pedaling, pushing himself forward. The road stretched out ahead of him, leading into town. The early hour meant the streets were still mostly empty, giving him the space to take in his surroundings. He rode slowly, allowing himself to see the town, to notice the small changes—a new coat of paint on a building here, a store that had closed down there, and a few new businesses that had popped up since he left.

Eventually, Mason found himself in front of a store that had been one of his favorites growing up. It sold comics, records, and all sorts of collectible items. He remembered spending hours there, browsing the shelves, dreaming of the day he could buy all the records and comics he wanted. But now, the store was closed, the lights were off, and a sign on the door indicated it wouldn’t open for another hour.

He got off his bike and walked up to the window, peering inside. The store was mostly the same, but there were new items on display, things he hadn’t seen before. He pressed his forehead against the glass, trying to get a better look, but what caught his eye wasn’t inside the store—it was his own reflection in the glass.

Mason stared at himself for a long moment, taking in the changes. The town might have stayed the same in many ways, but he hadn’t. He was different now, older, more experienced. His face had matured, his hair was a little longer, and there was a certain weight in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was the weight of everything he had been through—the mistakes, the lessons, the growth.

As he looked at his reflection, Mason couldn’t help but wonder about the person he was becoming. The last year had been transformative, but the changes weren’t over. He was still figuring out who he was, where he was going, and what he wanted out of life. There was a sense of uncertainty but also a quiet determination to keep moving forward and discovering himself.

The town was the same, but Mason knew he wasn’t. And that was okay. He was beginning to understand and accept change as a part of life. The boy who had left this town a year ago had been full of dreams and fears, and while those dreams and fears hadn’t disappeared, they had evolved, just as he had.

Mason pulled back from the glass, his reflection fading as he turned back to his bike. There was still so much ahead of him—choices to make, paths to explore. He wasn’t sure where it would all lead, but as he climbed back onto his bike and started pedaling again, he knew one thing for certain: he was ready to find out.

With the sun climbing higher in the sky, Mason continued his ride through town, feeling the wind in his hair and the freedom that only a bike ride could bring. This was his home, but it wasn’t the same home he had known. And as he pedaled down the familiar streets, he felt a sense of peace in knowing that he had changed too—and that was exactly as it should be.

Part 4 - A Tight Fit

As Mason continued cycling through his hometown's familiar streets, a strange sensation settled over him. The town, once so full of possibilities and hidden corners to explore, now felt tight, constricting, as if the streets had narrowed in his absence. Even with the open spaces and wide roads, Mason felt an unexpected sense of suffocation, a stark contrast to the bustling city he had grown accustomed to. The place that had once been his entire world now seemed too small, quiet, and unchanged.

He realized that he no longer belonged here, not in the way he once did. The town had stayed the same, but he had grown and expanded beyond the borders of this place. A bittersweet realization carried a sense of loss and a quiet acceptance.

Slowly, he made his way back home, his thoughts heavy. When he reached the shed, Mason got off and placed the bike carefully against the shed wall. As he did, he couldn’t help but wonder if this might be the last time he would ride it. The thought lingered as he stepped away, closing the shed door with a finality that echoed in his heart.

Walking back into the house, Mason was greeted by the familiar sounds of home. The soft clatter of dishes and the comforting aroma of breakfast filled the air. He could hear his mom in the kitchen, humming softly as she worked, and the sound of water running upstairs signaled that his dad was just getting up.

“Mason, you’re back,” his mom called out, her voice warm and inviting. She appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. “Why don’t you clean up? Breakfast will be ready soon. It won’t be the fancy stuff you must have in the city, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy a good home-cooked meal.”

Mason smiled at her words, feeling a twinge of affection. “Thanks, Mom. I’m looking forward to it.”

As he headed toward the bathroom, he heard the stairs creak behind him. His dad was making his way down, each step protesting under his weight. Like everything else in this town, the house was showing its age. Compared to the sleek modernity of the city, it seemed almost quaint, a relic of a simpler time. Yet, there was a comfort in its familiarity, in the way it seemed to hold memories in every creak and groan.

His dad had taken a few days off work, a rare treat, to spend time with Mason and his mom. They had planned a picnic for the afternoon, something simple but meaningful. As Mason washed his hands and splashed water on his face, he thought about the upcoming day. The county fair was being set up in the nearby fields, and it would be in full swing in a few days. Mason had forgotten all about it, but now the memories came flooding back.

The fair had always been a mix of emotions for Mason. As a child, he loved the rides, the petting zoo, and the sugary treats. But those memories were tinged with the sting of loneliness. He often went to the fair with his parents, never having many friends to share the experience with. The teasing and name-calling from other kids had marred what should have been carefree days. Even now, the thought of the fair brought back a lingering sadness.

As he returned to the kitchen, his mind was still caught in the past. His mom was setting the table, her movements precise and practiced, when she looked up at him expectantly.

“Mason… Mason… Are you listening?” Her voice broke through his reverie.

He blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard what she’d said. “Oh, yeah, what…? Yeah, I’m all for going on a picnic! It’s been a long time. It will be fun. And once the fair opens, we should all go together.”

His mom’s face lit up with a smile. She had been planning this picnic for weeks, eagerly anticipating Mason’s return. “That sounds wonderful, Manny. It’ll be just like old times.”

Mason’s heart ached a little at her words—"just like old times." But he knew things weren’t the same, not for him, not anymore. Still, he returned her smile, determined to make the most of the time they had together.

By the time Mason’s dad joined them in the kitchen, the table was set, and the smells of breakfast filled the room. It was just as Mason remembered—the savory aroma of eggs and bacon, the sizzle of breakfast sausage in the pan, and the comforting warmth of freshly brewed coffee. His dad, as usual, had his mug of coffee in hand while his mom poured orange juice for herself and Mason.

Mason sat down at the table, the sight and smell of the familiar meal bringing back a rush of memories. But something was different now. Over the past year, he had developed a taste for coffee, a habit he had picked up during late-night study sessions and mornings at the record shop. The rich, bitter drink had become a small pleasure, a sign of his growing independence.

He glanced at the coffee pot, briefly considering asking for a cup. But then he looked at his mom, her expression so full of love and the desire to preserve the image of him as her little boy. Mason knew how much it meant to her to hold onto that image, especially as he continued to grow and change. Given that this might be the last time he visited before fully stepping into his new life, he decided to let her have this moment.

“Orange juice is fine, Mom,” Mason said, smiling at her as he took a sip.

His mom returned the smile, clearly pleased. “Good. It’s just like old times, isn’t it?”

Mason nodded, even though he knew the truth was more complicated. “Yeah, it is.”

As they sat down to eat, Mason felt a mix of emotions—love for his parents, nostalgia for the past, and a growing awareness that he was moving into a new phase of his life. The conversation was light, filled with stories from the past year and plans for the next few days. His dad asked about the city, the job at the record shop, and Mason’s plans for school while his mom listened with keen interest, asking questions and beaming with pride at every answer.

But beneath the surface, Mason couldn’t shake the feeling that this visit was a turning point. He was home, but it wasn’t home anymore—not in the way it had been. He was changing, and with that change came the realization that some things, like the bike in the shed, might be left behind as he moved forward.

For now, though, Mason focused on the present, on the laughter and love that filled the room. There would be time to think about the future later. For now, he was content to be here, in this moment, with the people who mattered most.

Mason felt a sense of peace as they finished breakfast and began to prepare for the picnic. He might be leaving soon, moving on to new places and experiences, but the memories of this morning would stay with him. It was a reminder of where he came from, a foundation that would always be a part of him, even as he continued to grow.

Part 5 - An Unexpected Call

The summer days had slipped by quickly, and the time for Mason to return to school—and to the city, and his friends—was fast approaching. The past few weeks had been a mix of quiet moments with his parents and the occasional nostalgic ride through town. As much as he appreciated the time at home, Mason felt the pull of the city and the life he was building there. The transition back to school was looming, bringing with it a blend of excitement and nervous anticipation.

One late afternoon, as Mason was packing up some of his things, the phone rang from the kitchen. His mom, always quick to answer, picked up the receiver with a practiced ease.

“Hello?” she said warmly into the phone, her voice carrying through the house.

Mason paused in his packing, mildly curious about who might be calling. They didn’t get many phone calls these days, and most of their communication with friends and family was done through letters or quick chats at the grocery store. He heard his mom’s tone shift slightly as she continued the conversation, now more casual, almost chatty.

“Mason!” his mom called out, her voice a little louder. “It’s for you.”

Mason furrowed his brow, wondering who was calling for him. As he walked into the kitchen, his mom turned toward him, covering the phone's mouthpiece with her hand.

“It’s a girl,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise and a touch of excitement. “Her name is Cindy.”

Mason’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected to hear from Cindy, especially not here, at home. He noticed his dad’s ears perk up from behind the newspaper he was reading at the kitchen table. His dad glanced over the top of the paper, clearly curious but trying to appear casual.

Mason took the phone from his mom, who lingered momentarily, watching him with curiosity and something else—perhaps hope? Mason could see the flicker of thoughts behind her eyes as if she were reassessing everything she thought she knew.

“Thanks, Mom,” Mason said, trying to sound casual as he brought the receiver to his ear. He turned slightly away from his parents, hoping to keep the conversation somewhat private.

“Hey, Cindy,” Mason said, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. “How did you get this number?”

Cindy’s voice on the other end of the line was familiar, comforting even though he hadn’t expected to hear from her.

As Cindy’s voice carried on, Mason’s expression softened. He nodded as if she could see him, listening intently. His mom and dad exchanged a glance, his mom’s eyebrows raised slightly as if to say, Maybe we were wrong…

His dad remained cautiously observant. The newspaper now rested in his lap as he pretended to be engrossed in it. The idea that Mason might not be gay, that this “Cindy” was a romantic interest, seemed to hang in the air between his parents, unspoken but evident.

Mason caught the look his parents exchanged, a subtle shift in their demeanor, but he didn’t react to it. He knew what they were thinking, and for a moment, he considered setting the record straight. But when Cindy’s voice suddenly faded, and another familiar voice took over on the other end, Mason’s focus shifted entirely.

It was Robby.

The warmth in Mason’s expression deepened into something more genuine, and a smile crept onto his face as he listened. Robby’s voice was clear in his ear, making Mason feel more at ease and more connected to the life he had in the city. His responses were confident, perhaps even playful, as he spoke to Robby.

After noticing the change in his demeanor, Mason's mom looked at her husband again. The hope in her eyes was now more pronounced as if this conversation with “Cindy” had reassured her of something she desperately wanted to believe. Maybe Mason was just confused… the unspoken thought seemed to say.

But Mason knew the truth. He knew that the conversation wasn’t what his parents thought it was. As he continued talking, he kept his tone light, as if he were still speaking with Cindy, not wanting to complicate things further.

“Yes, it’s been a good summer,” Mason said into the phone, his eyes briefly meeting his mother’s before he turned away. “I’m glad we got to catch up.”

He smiled again, genuinely happy to speak with Robby but conscious of the need to maintain the illusion for his parents. There was no point in challenging their assumptions right now. The summer had been peaceful, a time to reconnect with them, and he didn’t want to disrupt that fragile balance.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon,” Mason said, his voice warm with a hint of affection. “Take care.”

He hung up the phone and turned back to his parents, who were watching him with a mix of curiosity and expectation.

“Cindy just wanted to check in, see how my summer’s been going,” Mason said, offering a plausible explanation. “She said she’s looking forward to seeing me back at school.”

His mom’s face brightened, and his dad nodded approvingly. “Sounds like a nice girl,” his dad said, folding the newspaper.

“She is,” Mason agreed, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. But he knew that explaining the real nature of his relationships with Cindy and Robby would only complicate things.

As Mason excused himself to finish his packing, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the dual lives he was leading. Here, at home, he was still the son his parents had always known, the one they wanted to believe was simply confused, that everything would return to the way it was. But in the city, he was becoming someone else—someone more confident, more aware of who he truly was.

For now, Mason would keep these two worlds separate. There would be a time to bring them together, to embrace who he was in front of everyone fully. But that time wasn’t now. Now, he needed to focus on returning to school, seeing Robby again, and continuing the journey he had started a year ago.

As he returned to his room, Mason felt a strange mix of emotions—relief, guilt, anticipation. But most of all, he felt a sense of determination. The path ahead wouldn’t be easy, but it was his path, and he was ready to walk it, one step at a time.

Part 6 - Farewell to Summer

The long summer days gradually gave way to the crispness of early autumn. The sun set a little earlier each evening, casting long shadows across the familiar streets of Mason’s hometown. The end of summer brought a quiet melancholy, a sense of things winding down, preparing for the inevitable change of season. For Mason, it also marked the end of his time at home and the beginning of his return to the life he was carving out for himself—his real life.

In the days leading up to his departure, the mood in the house was somber. His mom, though trying to keep a brave face, couldn’t hide the subtle sadness in her eyes. She was holding on tightly to the image of her son, the boy she had raised, but she knew deep down that he was now an adult, stepping further and further into a world of his own making. She had always known this day would come, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

Just like the first time Mason had left for school, his mom busied herself in the kitchen, preparing food for the long trip. “Nothing like a good home-cooked meal,” she always said, a sentiment Mason had come to appreciate more with each passing year. She baked fresh bread, the aroma filling the house with a comforting warmth, and packed vegetables from their garden, carefully selecting the ripest tomatoes and crispest lettuce. The meat, as always, came from the local butcher, who knew the family by name.

Mason watched her as she worked, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with gratitude. He knew how much she wanted to hold on to these moments, these rituals that connected them to a simpler time when he was just her little boy. But now, he was more than that. He was a young man, with a life and responsibilities of his own, and as much as he cherished being home, he was also yearning to get back to school—to his real life, the life that awaited him back in the city.

The last few days at home were bittersweet for Mason. The familiarity of his childhood home, the sounds of the creaking floorboards, and the smell of his mother’s cooking were the things he had missed while he was away. But there was also a restlessness within him, a desire to return to the life he was building, to the friends he had made, and most importantly, to Robby. His feelings for Robby had grown more intense over the summer, a slow burn that had turned into something deeper. Yet he knew that their relationship was still fragile, that trust had to be rebuilt after the misunderstandings of the past year.

Hearing Robby’s voice on the phone a few weeks ago had reassured Mason that he was on the right track. The connection between them, though complicated, was real, and it was something Mason was eager to explore further when he returned.

The morning of his departure arrived, and the atmosphere in the house was thick with unspoken emotions. Mason’s parents drove him to the bus stop, the same route they had taken a year ago when he had first left for school. This time, Mason didn’t complain about the long drive. He cherished these last few hours with them, knowing that this visit might be one of the last times he would be home like this. He wanted to stretch the time out, to make the most of it for himself and them.

When they arrived at the bus stop, Mason got out of the car, his heart heavy with anticipation and sorrow. His dad opened the trunk and carefully took out Mason’s bags, placing them on the ground beside him. Mason's dad noticed that the luggage and his backpack were new. He hadn’t noticed it before.

His dad, always a man of few words, extended his hand. Mason took it, feeling the firm grip that had always grounded him. His dad then pulled him into a hug, a rare but welcomed show of affection. “Take care of yourself, son,” his dad said gruffly, a mix of pride and concern in his voice. “Remember what we talked about—stay focused, and don’t forget where you come from.”

Mason nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I won’t, Dad. Thanks for everything.”

His dad stepped back and returned to the car, allowing Mason to say goodbye to his mom. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Mason in a hug that lasted longer than before. This time, the smile she gave him reached her eyes, and though her voice was steady, Mason could feel the depth of her emotions.

“I’m so proud of you, Mason,” she said, her voice filled with love. “I’m so happy you came home this summer. It meant the world to us.”

Mason felt a wave of emotion wash over him. “I’m glad I came home too, Mom. I’ll miss you.”

Mason pulled the ticket from his jacket pocket as people boarded the bus. He waved goodbye to his dad, who nodded in return and then gave his mom one last hug. She held him tightly, and just as he was about to let go, she added quickly, “Say hi to Cindy from me, will you?”

Mason froze for a moment, surprised by the comment. He knew his mom had enjoyed the brief conversation with Cindy when she had called, but he also knew what was behind the request. His mom still held out hope that Mason wasn’t gay, that maybe Cindy could be the one to bring him back to a more “normal” life. It was a hope Mason couldn’t fulfill, but he didn’t want to complicate things now.

“Sure, Mom,” Mason replied, forcing a smile. “I’ll say hi to her for you.”

He turned and walked toward the line of people getting onto the bus. The attendant took his ticket, and Mason glanced back one last time. His mom stood by the car, waving, and his dad gave him a final nod. Mason waved back, knowing this might be the last time he left home like this. The thought lingered as he climbed onto the bus and made his way to the back, finding a seat by the window.

Mason settled into his seat as the other passengers boarded and the bags were stored and locked away. The bus rumbled to life and slowly began to pull away from the stop. Mason leaned against the window, watching his parents fade into the distance. A mix of emotions swirled within him—sadness at leaving, relief at returning to his life, and a growing sense of anticipation.

He was leaving behind the town that had shaped him, the parents who had raised him, and the childhood memories now tinged with sweetness and pain. But he was also heading back to something new, creating something for himself. He was back to his friends, the city that had become his second home, and most importantly, to Robby.

Mason watched the familiar landscape pass by, his thoughts turning to the future. He didn’t know what awaited him when he returned, but he knew he was ready to face it. Determined to move forward, no matter the challenges or decisions ahead, he knew this time he wouldn’t hide from them. He would confront them head-on.

But there was one thing he hadn’t yet told his parents. About Robby. He wasn’t sure how or when he would, but he knew the truth had to come out eventually. For now, though, he was still figuring things out on his own. He wasn’t ready to share that part of his life just yet.

Mason allowed himself to smile as the bus sped up, carrying him further from his past and closer to his future. He was happy to be leaving and returning to the life he was building, but most of all, he was happy to be returning to Robby. The summer had been a time of reflection and reconnection, but now it was time to move on, to embrace the next chapter of his life with open arms.