Chapter 8 A That-Doesn't-Make-Sense Explanation

• I took Mason's wrist and rushed up to my room, ignoring all the stares we're really earning from the maids. Even the vacuum seem to pause from running. I made Mason sit on the edge of the bed as I took a chair out of the vanity and put it right in front of him. We sat for a moment, staring at each other. He seemed eager to know what the hell happened on our ‘horse race’ that left me in this grime state. 
• I looked down and fumbled with my fingers as I waited for him to speak. I feel him scanning my face down to my feet—the feet who are currently missing one shoe. I glanced at him and grinned to ease up the mood but it clearly made it worse when Mason didn't say anything. 
• "You know you've got some things you need to explain, right?" He finally broke the silence. I nodded faintly. "I. . ." I looked at his impatient expression. I wonder if he worried about me? His face seemed impassive and unbothered but I feel like he's a bit annoyed. I don't know if it was about the fact that he's quite responsible for my well-being since I am staying at his place, or he's just worried.