The bonfire at the creek was exactly what my Total Recall predicted for a California high school party: loud music, the smell of woodsmoke, and a lot of teenagers trying very hard to look like they weren't looking for their parents' cars.
I was sitting on a log, a red plastic cup of soda in my hand. Vanessa was perched next to me, her cheerleader jacket draped over her shoulders. She was currently explaining the complex social hierarchy of the dance team, her hand resting naturally on my knee.
"And then Stacy tried to say that I was the one who missed the beat, when clearly her toe-touch was, like, two inches lower than mine," Vanessa said, leaning in so our shoulders touched. "You get it, right? As a quarterback, you have to deal with people being jealous of your talent all the time."
"It comes with the territory," I said, my smile practiced and polite.
Being with Vanessa was easy. It was a role I knew how to play. She was pretty, she was popular, and she didn't require me to access any deep, complex parts of my psyche. She was the "Normal High School Girlfriend" archetype. But even as she laughed at one of my jokes, my eyes kept drifting toward the other side of the fire.
Haley was there with Dylan. He was playing a guitar—or rather, strumming three chords and humming something about "the soul of a recycled can." Haley was watching him, but every few minutes, her gaze would snap over to me and Vanessa. Whenever our eyes met, she'd immediately turn back to Dylan with an exaggerated laugh.
[INTERVIEW - MASON]Mason: "I have a biological processor that can analyze a defensive line in 0.4 seconds. I have a memory that spans a decade of future events. And yet, I'm sitting here trying to figure out why I'm annoyed that a guy in a tie-dye shirt is singing to my cousin. It's a variable I didn't account for. It's inefficient. It's... annoying."
About an hour in, Vanessa went to get a drink, leaving me alone for a moment. Almost instantly, Haley appeared, stepping out of the shadows with a scowl.
"So, you're actually doing it," she said, nodding toward the empty space on the log where Vanessa had been. "You're dating the Human Megaphone."
"We're just hanging out, Haley," I said, leaning back. "Besides, I thought you were busy listening to the 'Ballad of the Soda Tab'."
Haley huffed, sitting down on the edge of the log. She kept a careful distance, but the heat from the fire pushed us closer. "Dylan is an artist. You wouldn't understand. He feels things on a different frequency."
"I'm sure he does," I said. "Usually around 440 Hertz."
Haley looked at me, her brow furrowing. "Was that a smart person joke? Because if it was, keep it for Alex. I'm serious, Mason. Vanessa is... she's not good for you. She's a total 'starter girlfriend.' She'll date you for a month, realize you're actually smart, and then get bored because you don't want to spend four hours talking about lip gloss."
"And what would 'good girlfriend material' look like, according to the Haley Dunphy Guide to Romance?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.
Haley opened her mouth, then hesitated. She looked at the fire, the orange light dancing in her eyes. "I don't know. Someone who... someone who doesn't need to be taught who the author of a paragraph is. Someone who actually has a life. Vanessa doesn't even have hobbies! Her hobby is being Vanessa! It's exhausting just watching her."
"You seem very invested in my dating life," I noted.
"I'm invested in the family reputation!" she snapped, though her face was redder than the fire could account for. "If you date a ditz, it makes us all look bad. Especially since I'm the one who has to be seen with you."
She stood up abruptly as Vanessa returned. The two girls exchanged a look that could have flash-frozen the entire creek.
"Having fun, Haley?" Vanessa asked, her voice dripping with sugary fake-sweetness.
"Tons," Haley replied, her voice flat. She looked at me one last time—a look that was part warning, part confusion, and something else I couldn't identify. "Don't forget we have SAT prep tomorrow. Don't let your brain melt out here."
She marched back toward Dylan, who had started a song about "the sadness of a pebble."
[INTERVIEW - HALEY]Haley: "Vanessa is my friend. I love her. She's great for, like, shopping and talking about hair. But Mason? Mason is... he's Mason. He's the only person who doesn't look at me like I'm a finished book. If he starts dating someone like her, he'll start seeing me the way everyone else does. And I... I'm not ready for that."
As the night ended, I walked Vanessa to her car. She kissed me on the cheek—a soft, simple gesture that should have felt like a win. But as I watched her drive away, my mind didn't linger on her.
I looked back at the dying embers of the fire. I saw Haley and Dylan walking toward his van. My Total Recall reminded me that Dylan would be around for a long time. It also told me that my role was to be the "Perfect Prodigy."
But as I drove home, the silence in the car felt heavy. I was Mason Delgado-Pritchett. I had the body of a god and the mind of a prophet. And yet, for the first time in this new life, I was completely lost in the dark.
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