As you can clearly read, there was a chapter titled Not Wanting To Go Home from Carter's perspective. You could read this one without having read that one but I don't suggest it.

***********************************

Mason finished off the last question and stood. Checking the time, he couldn't help but smirk. An hour test that he finished with fifteen minutes to spare. Sometimes he thought it was unfair that he had looks and brains. But then he remembered it wasn't his fault that he was born with both and so he stopped thinking about it.

"Done already?" Mr. Herald said.

"Yup."

Mason tossed the test onto his teacher's desk and walked back to his seat. Bending over, he lifted his backpack and hooked it onto his shoulder. As he reached the door, Mr. Herald called out to him.

"Don't you want to know what you got?" Mr. Herald said, holding up the test.

"Is it less than a hundred?"

Mr. Herald smiled in response and Mason held out his hands. "Then I already know my answer."

Again Mason reached for the door, but Mr. Herald spoke, stopping him again.

"You have an amazing brain, Mason. I hope you don't waste it."

With his father? Ha. Like Mason would be given the chance to waste his brain. He didn't think about his future but that didn't mean he didn't believe his father already had it completely laid out for him. Mason was a Douglas after all, that meant something. Legacy. No choice in life.

"I won't."

Mason walked to the entrance, savoring the complete absence of humans around him. Smith had taken a call and Mason figured since his agent was waiting right beyond the classroom door that meant he'd taken it in the car. That told Mason it was a serious and private call. Mason only allowed for being mildly insulting that Smith would assume it would take Mason a full hour to finish the test.

But Smith's assumption meant that Mason got time to be alone, even if was for a brief time. All that waited for him at home was the kind of chaos that didn't involve him. If he got in the middle of the chaos that pissed people off. And watching the chaos from the outside was dull since all of it was political. But at the residence, there was nothing but antiques and no sense of home.

It was only two years since his family had moved into the White House and still nothing about it felt welcoming. At least back at their old home, even if it had been nearly as big, it felt like a home. Angela could always be found in the kitchen prepping some meal or other.

Now Mason didn't even see the kitchen or know who was working there or feel comfortable sitting on a barstool for hours talking to the staff. Angela had been given a job somewhere. Mason didn't know where, his parents hadn't told him. He wondered if they'd think he'd try to run away and live with the one person who he could always find.

His mother was the person he loved the most, but even then he didn't always know where to find her. And if he messaged her, she'd reply but she was often doing one thing or another. Angela had been... a constant. Mason hadn't felt he had a constant in a long time.

Mason pushed open the front doors and stepped out but stopped.

He did have a constant but it wasn't one he liked all that much.

How was Owens even lying on the railing? It looked uncomfortable and slightly dangerous. The dangerous part he didn't care about. Owens could fall and break something for all he cared. But the uncomfortable aspect, did she somehow revel in being abnormal? Probably, she seemed to not care about fitting in, making friends, or being a human being.

Mason approached the railing but Carter didn't react. Spotting Smith still on the phone, Mason decided to do what most people at the school were learning was a bad decision, he got closer to Carter. Without too much trouble, he hoisted himself onto the railing at her feet.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much space for him to sit before the railing curved down. That meant Mason was in closer proximity to her feet and therefore in the line of fire than he'd like to be. But he decided to risk it.

"Mason," Carter said. "If you're in love with me can you just tell me so I can reject you and we can stop having conversations?"

Be in love with Owens? Mason wanted to laugh. The only person who should be in love with Owens was a knight in shining armor. Not because she needed rescuing but because he'd need that much protection from her.

But telling that to Owens would only result in something violent, he had no doubt.

"Okay. I love you," Mason said deciding to throw something at Owens to see how she'd react.

Carter remained with her eyes closed, not at all moved by his words. Though Mason hadn't put any emotion into them so that could be why. He didn't want to be convincing, who knew how it would go to her head.

"I reject your love," Carter said.

That wasn't surprising. Mason figured she had an allergy to love, human connection, and emotions.

"Alright," he said, not sure why he was even continuing to talk to her. "Why are you lying on the ramp?"

"Why are you at school late?"

"Mysterious circumstances," Mason said.

"Same. Mysterious circumstances," Carter said.

"Your dad not pick you up?"

"Have to stay late to make up that test you missed last week during your family photo op?"

Mason tilted his head up and peered up at the sky. He didn't know whether he should be unnerved by the fact that they both knew the other person's life well enough to predict the answer. It was possible Owens was getting too much involved in his life.

Correction, she was intruding so much into his life that he took note of hers. She could want to know everything about him, that was normal. Everyone else wanted to know that too. But he didn't appreciate her intrusion meaning he knew about her. It was possible he would have to have her expelled and moved to a different school.

"Do you think love can die easily?" she asked.

It was a Wednesday. In what world did someone bring up philosophy on a Wednesday afternoon? Mason honestly wasn't sure whether Carter was playing with him or not.

"Yeah," he said, deciding it was a joke. "You rejected my love so I no longer feel love for you."

"That was easy."

They fell silent again and Mason wondered why he was staying. If Owens was thinking of the complexities of love while lying on a railing on a Wednesday, clearly she wasn't in her right mind. Not that he was sure she ever was, this seemed like a new level.

"Do you think you're someone worth loving?" Carter asked.

"You rejected me once you don't have to do it a second time," Mason said, the joke coming easier than the truth.

When Carter didn't react with a cutting remark back, Mason looked at her. She was the strangest girl she'd ever seen. The railing was barely a foot wide and there she lay like it was no big deal. Who did that?

Carter remained silent till the point where Mason felt the need to say something else.

"I don't know," he threw out. "What is love anyways? It could all be a stupid delusional we convince ourselves of to tolerate other humans."

"I think love is real," Carter said.

"Oh yeah? Why? No one loves you."

"Captain does."

"If that's your imaginary friend, that's not love. That's a true delusion."

"That's my father."

The certainty Carter spoke with made Mason look over at her. He could say he felt that kind of certainty only about one person in his life. His mother. Beyond that... there were a million people who said they loved him but only one he believed.

And that one wasn't his father.

"Ah. I don't know what that's like," he said.

The instant the truth left his mouth, Mason wished he could erase it from time. This was Owens, show her your heart and she'd take a knife to it. He felt her staring at him and stared at the ground, waiting for the death blow.

But when she rested her head back on the stone, Mason let out a slow, silent breath. Clearly, she wasn't in the murderous mood she usually was.

"Have you ever been in love?" Carter asked.

"Besides with you, you mean?" Mason said, needing to get rid of his lapse in honesty.

Carter kicked his side and Mason laughed because at least her murderous side wasn't completely subdued. He stopped before she could become delusional about him actually liking her as a human being.

"I'm fifteen," Mason said. "Who do you think I'd be in love with?"

"Literally any of the girls you've dated."

Be in love with those girls! Ha! Those girls were... fine. He didn't hate any of them. Some he even thought were pretty decent people. But love? Not if he could help it.

"I pity the girls you date," Carter said.

"Because you're not one of them?"

Mason looked at Carter, trying to read her emotions towards him. He could date who he wanted because of who he was perceived to be, not for who he felt he was. Owens seemed under no delusion about who Mason was, so then what was her view of him?

Carter lifted her arm and pointed down to herself. "I rejected you, remember?"

That set that matter to rest. A joke. That made life easier. Mason didn't want to have to break her heart. Okay, he didn't care either way. It could be fun to see Owens with a broken heart. Or she'd become more deadly. Maybe it was best he didn't have the power to do anything to her heart.

Except make jokes about it.

"Right. And have left me heartbroken." Mason placed his hand on his chest. "This is the pain that all those girls talk about. Should I change my ways? Should I... grow a heart?"

"I think it's too late for you."

Most likely, his father's lack of love seemed to be doing a good job of that. "You're right. Best to not change what's working so well."

Carter rolled her eyes and said nothing.

They remained there, not saying anything and Mason knew he should leave. There was no more point spending more time around Owens than had to. Not that he was even on the wall because he had to, he didn't even know why he was there. He should get off the wall and go to Smith and go home. Or better put go to the White House. Home seemed a bit of a stretch. The residence worked well enough. That was its official title so it made sense to call it that.

"Why are you still here, Mason?" Carter asked.

Mason twisted to face her, again placing his hand on his chest. "Because you're the love of my life. Just being around you makes me happy."

Carter lifted her head and Mason held his pose, knowing that if he even showed a hint of his thoughts Owens would cut into them. Though she hadn't cut into him the last time but there was no trusting an unhinged girl like her.

"Okay," she said. "Don't tell me."

So she knew he wasn't telling the truth. Well, he was playing the 'pretend love' card a little too much. Maybe she wasn't buying it. But if she did that might be worse. Owens thinking he actually loved her would be dangerous. Too much power for one person.

A black SUV pulled through the gates and Mason watched as it drove down the long lane to the front of the school. He knew that car, he'd seen it often enough at the White House. He didn't know how he was able to distinguish his car from the hundreds of others the agents drove. Maybe it was because he knew the driver.

"I think that's your dad," he said.

Carter turned her head. In a blink, Carter rolled off the railing and Mason lurched forward, imagining her crashing to the rough ground. But she caught herself easily and popped up. When she faced Mason, he realized he was bent forward with his arm out. As if he'd tried to catch her. Which was idiotic of him. Why would he want to save Owens?

At her raised eyebrows, Mason felt his face warm up in embarrassment.

"I wanted to make sure you landed on your face and caused permanent damage," he said.

"Uh-huh."

Though Mason knew she wasn't convinced, at least she didn't say anything.

Picking up her satchel, Carter slung it over her head as she headed towards the stairs. Mason let out a breath, not sure why. Maybe because he was out of harm's way with Owens out of close proximity. But Carter stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at him.

"You don't want to go home, do you?" she said.

Mason held Carter's gaze, hating her just a little bit for having a brain. It was an extremely annoying trait in some people.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Owens," he said, breezily but his face was sober.

"Go home, Mason," she said. "And deal with the crushing disappointment of my rejection of your love."

Ha. Yeah, losing Owens' love was truly devastating for him. How would he ever manage to move on from someone who mildly terrified him? Yes, it would take ages, decades, a span of two seconds.

"It wasn't that devastating," he said. "I'll be over it by the time I get there."

"Sure you will," Carter said.

She jogged off and hopped into her father's car. Mason stood there, watching as they drove off. He knew where Owens lived, knew the narrow lane she walked down to get to her apartment. The apartment that was probably a fraction of his room at the Residence. It must be so awful to live somewhere it was cramped. And only with her father. How did they stand being so close?

Mason swallowed hard. It must be so awful.

"Mason."

Mason didn't respond to Smith calling him, but he did head down the ramp to the parking lot.

"You're done earlier than Mr. Herald said it would take," Smith said.

"You've only been my agent for the past year but I'm insulted that you'd imply I'm stupid."

Smith laughed and opened Mason's door for him. Mason climbed in and sank back into the seat.

"Home or do you need to go somewhere else?" Smith asked.

"The end of the earth, I heard the view is astounding."

"White House it is."

Mason dropped his head back. "You're right, I forgot that is the end of the world."

Smith glanced at Mason through the rearview mirror but Mason focused on the window, ignoring Smith's look. When they arrived at the White House, Mason left the car before Smith had even cut the engine. By the time that Smith had followed Mason, he'd slipped into the chaos. The noise and eyes of hundreds of people slowly diminished as Mason got to the Residence. Inside, he tossed his backpack onto a chair, crossed to the closest couch, and fell over the armrest onto it. He lay there with one leg hanging over the armrest while the other hung off the cushions. A minute later the main door opened and Smith poked his head in.

"Checking your home," he said.

"Yup," Mason said to the ceiling. "I'm at the end of the world."

There was a beat of silence then the door clicked shut. Mason didn't blame Smith for having nothing to say. What was there to say? Smith didn't care, Mason was his charge. A job. A paycheck.

Mason sat up and stared at the perfectly curated sitting room around him. It was pristine and sterile. Nothing about the place felt like a home.

Mason stepped out of the Residence and walked. He didn't even know where he was walking but he felt it was better than not moving and slowly becoming one of the many soulless pieces of art around him.

Eventually the sound of pans on metal and the smell of something baking led him to the kitchen. It was an industrial-sized place with a dozen workers moving about with efficiency. Mason hovered in the doorway, not wanting to bother them but wanting to be there.

When Mason decided it best to leave, he spotted someone in the back that made him freeze.

Like a ghost, he drifted into the kitchen and to a secluded where a soft-faced and curvy woman worked.

"Angela," Mason whispered, feeling like the seven-year-old who'd she'd met for the first time.

Angela beamed at Mason and before he knew what he was doing, he hugged. He hugged her in a way he only ever hugged his mother, with his whole heart.

"I didn't know where you went," he said, pinching his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry it took me a long time to come back to you," she whispered.

Mason pulled back. "You planned to always work here?"

She cupped his face and again Mason felt like a little kid. She smelled like cookies and her hands were as soft as dough.

"Of course, my sweet boy," she said. "It was complicated but I always planned to be here for you."

"What happened?" Mason asked.

She gave him a sad smile and Mason didn't need to know details to know it was something serious had happened.

"Life happened," she said. "But now, I have you back. I have My Boy back."

At the endearment of 'my boy', Angela's voice caught and Mason knew that he might have thought he'd lost her permanently, but there was someone she had lost permanently.

"Come sit," she said, smiling away her emotions. "I want to know all about your day."

She guided him to a stool next to her location. A stool that had no right to be there but Mason knew she'd put it there, waiting for him. He wanted to ask her how long she'd been there. Why hadn't she told him that she was there? Why had he felt so alone for so long without her?

But as Mason sat, she handed him a fresh cookie and he realized he didn't care about the whys. All he cared about was that he wasn't alone.

And for the first time since moving, the White House didn't feel so big.

**********************************************************************

Buckets of butterflies!!

Wait... that image is kinda depressing when thought about for longer than a second. Never mind, I take it back! I'll go with...

Buckets of biscuits! Mason is so damaged that I just want to give him a hug and a year of therapy.

Go ahead and share your thoughts on our beloved damaged boy. 💬🗯️💭

If you're asking me: Joy, who is Angela? Why have we never heard of her before? Where did she come from?

Guess what! I don't know. I wish you'd stop being delulu that I have control over my own story that I created from my brain. That's madness! Madness I tell you! I have no control!

So yeah, no clue. She just appeared and I was like: okay, yeah you now exist and have existed, I just didn't know it apparently.

But hopefully you like her! I could picture her as Sookie from Gilmore Girls.

Vote, comment, follow!

Shout out comments from: Not Wanting To Go Home.

I have no words what how much this comments means to me 🙈

It's true, it's true

🥰🥰 ahhhhh!!!

I love that they are home!

I support this selfishness.

My baby girl, Goose!