Mason's head felt as though it was being split open.

He groaned and turned to roll over onto his side, eyes shooting open when he fell off whatever the fuck he was laying on.

"Shit," he hissed. "What the hell?" He scanned his surroundings, relaxing onto the ground when he realized that he was in their living room and next to the couch. He let his eyes fall closed once more, shuffling slightly to get more comfortable.

He was only laying there for what seemed to be a couple seconds before he felt something press against his side. And again. Something lightly tapped on his ribcage in succession.

He shoved it away with his hand only for it happen immediately after. "Mason," he reopened his eyes at the sound of Paris's voice. "Get up."

"Fuck no," he mumbled in response. He could only see her shoes from this angle, a sleek pair of black heels that were most likely the cause of the tapping.

He heard her sigh and could only assume she was rolling her eyes. "You have class you know."

"I don't wanna go." He was practically whining at this point and he could feel his head throbbing with every noise being made.

Paris suddenly bent down, resting her hands on her thighs as she forced Mason to look her in the eye.

Jesus she was pretty.

Her face was bare of any makeup, minus what appeared to be mascara on her lashes. Her hair was loose and framing her face in a halo of dark curls. And he couldn't entirely see what she was wearing (besides a pair of white pants) but he could tell that it looked good. "Why not?"

He sighed and briefly broke eye contact to focus on the wall behind her. "I drank too fucking much."

"Oh." She hardly sounded surprised, most likely because - Mason could clearly remember that - she ended up with the short end of the stick and was forced to take him back home. "Don't worry," she began sympathetically, "everyone makes mistakes. Your parents for starters," she smirked at him.

"I almost forgot who I was talking to," he sighed heavily.

"Wow, no stupid retort? You really must be feeling terrible."

Mason nodded in confirmation, regretting the movement when the pounding in his head grew worse. "My head feels like fucking hell."

She rose from her position with another sigh and Mason started craning his neck in order to keep her face in his view before he caught himself. "Come on," she extended a hand down towards him.

"Why?" Even if it was technically his turn in the prank war, he didn't exactly trust that she still wouldn't try to trick him.

"Just come on." She reached down to grab Mason's hand and pulled him up to stand. They began walking to the kitchen, Mason following behind Paris with heavy steps. She turned slightly to glance at him just before entering the kitchen. "I'm trying to help," she gave him a look.

Well that's fucking weird, Mason thought to himself.

He was pretty sure neither of his roommates of the opposite sex particularly liked him - for good reason (he had to admit) - so it was strange that Paris was actually trying to help him.

She forced him to sit on a barstool by the counter as she started opening random cupboards and pulling out random ingredients.

"What are you doing?" He finally asked after watching her put some herbs and water in the electric kettle they owned.

"Making chamomile tea."

She said it so casually, as though it were such a normal thing for a person to do even though it really wasn't. "Don't you need a teabag for that?" She giggled softly, making Mason feel slightly embarrassed because he definitely didn't mean to say something funny.

"Not the way I make it," she turned the kettle on after stirring whatever was inside. "I've tried the premade packs and they don't help nearly as much as homemade tea."

"You're making me fucking tea?" Mason realized that it sounded ungrateful but he was just genuinely shocked that Paris would even consider doing something so nice for him.

She raised a single eyebrow in his direction, "Is that a problem?"

"No- not at all," Mason hurriedly responded. He always fucking managed to sound like a complete asshole whenever they talked. Maybe that was why she hated him so much.

It was awkwardly silent for a moment and he couldn't help but stare at her as she pulled her phone out of her pants pocket and began tapping on the screen. He wondered who she was texting; maybe it was Caleb. He rolled his eyes just at the thought.

He still couldn't believe she was friends with that dickhead.

"What time is it?" He asked just to interrupt the suddenly plaguing silence. For some unknown fucking reason, he'd rather further embarrass himself than have her pay attention to another man when Mason was right in front of her.

"An hour till your lecture starts." She always seemed to know his schedule; it was kind of scary.

And it made him feel things he definitely should not be feeling about his annoying ass roommate.

He forced a smirk on his face and tried not to grimace as his head throbbed again. "Do you memorize everyone's schedule, or is it just mine? I'm honored really."

"You should be," she grinned at him. "If it weren't for me, you'd be late to every class."

That was probably fucking true, Mason silently noted. Would he ever willingly admit that to Paris? "Pfft, as if. I'm never late to anything."

"Sure," she agreed sarcastically. She turned off the now boiling kettle (how long it had been boiling Mason couldn't say) before pouring it in a glass. It was tinted a very light brown, small pieces of herbs floating in the water. He could definitely say it at least looked like tea.

Paris slid the glass in Mason's direction, "Try it."

He followed her instruction, lifting up the cup and taking a small sip. His eyes widened in surprise. "That's fucking good as hell," he told her.

"I know," her smile was cheeky.

Mason laughed, taking another drink as Paris's phone began ringing. She glanced at the screen, eyes growing wide at seeing the contact.

"Who is it?" Mason really should learn to mind his own business but it was entirely too easy not to.

"Uh-," she paused for a brief moment, her gaze moving from her phone to his face and back again. She bit her lip, seemingly debating her response before sighing. "My parents."

"Yikes." Mason knew personally that phone calls with parents usually never meant a good thing. "That's fucking rough." He stood from his seat, reaching across the counter to place his hand on her shoulder. "Have fun with that," he patted her shoulder sympathetically.

She rolled her eyes in lieu of responding, answering the call and bringing her phone up to her ear. Mason left to go into his own room in order to give her some privacy. If it was something bad, he didn't exactly want to be there to hear it.

~~~

Three hours later, Mason had finally gotten home after his two classes of the day and entered the dorm only to immediately leave.

His older sister followed him out, grabbing onto his arm and forcing him to stop. "Maso-," Mason cut her off before she could say anything.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He shook her arm off before folding his arms across his chest and stepping back away from her.

"Dad told me that you started attending university," she smiled at him and his stomach turned. "That's amazing!"

He grimaced at the excitement in her tone. He hadn't spoken to Leah in years, after she left to do god knows what during his sophomore year of high school. "What's your point?"

Her smile faltered. "Well I just never thought that you would do something so great. I mean, before I left you weren't even able to get good grades so it's hard to imagine that you'd be going to such a great coll-."

"You need to fucking leave." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but Leah clearly heard him from the way she abruptly stopped talking.

"Wh- what?" She laughed uncomfortably. "Oh come on," she lightly hit his arm, trying to be affectionate. "I'm your sister," she continued, "don't be like that."

Mason scoffed, "When were you ever my sister?" While they may have looked alike, he couldn't ever remember her acting like family.

She suddenly glared, losing the caring sister act in a matter of seconds. "Stop being such a dick. Dad said that you've been lonely and that I should visit; I was just trying to be nice."

"Of course that prick was the one who told you to visit me," he shook his head with disbelief. "Did he also tell you that Mom left his miserable ass and moved thousands of miles away just to get away from him too? Or did he conveniently leave that part out?"

Leah's mouth dropped, eyes starting to tear up. "She wouldn't leave him," she denied with a shaky voice. "They loved each other."

"You really believe that?" He tilted his head, glaring down at her as she practically cowered in front of him. "Would you love a man that cheated on you and had a whole ass other child with another woman? Who was his doctor by the way?"

"Dad wouldn't do that," his sister insisted, tears now running down her cheeks.

Mason laughed dryly, turning away from her to gather his thoughts. He couldn't fucking believe this. "And how would you know that? When was the last time you even talked to mom?"

She stayed silent.

"That's what I fucking thought," he muttered.

The door to his dorm suddenly opened and Paris poked her head outside. "Oh hey! I was wondering what was taking so long."

"Did you let Leah in?" He really hoped she didn't. It would fucking suck to have to explain all his family issues to someone like her. She was too good for all that shit.

"Who?" Her eyebrows furrowed. Mason relaxed at the evident confusion on her face as he gestured towards his older sister. She shook her head, "I didn't."

"I see," he hummed. He knew Carly and Josh wouldn't have let her in so the only other option was- "Still picking locks huh?" Leah's face reddened with anger but Mason couldn't help but notice that she didn't try to deny it. He scoffed once more.

"What's going on," Paris suddenly interrupted. Her eyes flickered between the two, lingering on Mason's features for a moment as she noticed the animosity on his face. "Was she inside the dorm?"

"Paris, if you ever see this shitty woman make sure you ignore her okay?"

"Uh- okay."

~~~