His face remained stoic as he faced the girl in front of her. Logan… fcking… Blackwood. Great. The girl was seemingly sitting by herself in this empty classroom doing…well… god knows what. Though if Mason had to guess, it seemed as if she was trying to finish up an assignment before class. If there was one word he could use to describe Logan, it would be busy. That’s simply because anytime he saw the girl, she was running around doing something or another. From football practice to… working after school… to well… here. Personally, he didn’t mind a girl on the football team - a certain controversy which occurred over the past year and a half (?) when she joined the team. What he did mind was the was the subtle way she didn’t trust him. Though trust was a difficult thing for some, it was something he didn’t necessarily understand.
After a few seconds of seeing her, his usual relaxed expression returned - a smile on his face. The one thing he understood was to get trust, a simple smile worked wonders. Though with her Yeah, right. and roll of her eyes, he knew she didn’t necessarily believe him. With that, she continued - mentioning that he should cut the bull and he allowed a practiced confused expression to meet his features. “I don’t know what you mean, Logan. Really it was just my mom, though I can’t do anything if you don’t trust me.” He started, a sigh leaving his lips as he walked closer to where she was. There was a look on her features which told him she wasn’t buying… well… any of what he was selling. So he simply continued, “But say in some case, if it wasn’t my mother. Why would I… ‘cut the bull’? If you didn’t notice, me dipping into an empty classroom to make a phone call meant it was personal. I doubt you would want to know If I was calling someone like my therapist or doctor, just like I wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable telling a girl I barely know that information. So please… do me a favor. If someone is trying to save a conversation from possibly being awkward, just let them, Logan.”
So maybe the “mom” lie wasn’t working, but perhaps a little detour in the conversation would reduce her curiosity of what was really going on. “Anyways, what are you doing in here? Or would you rather just quit the small talk too and have me disappear so you can continue working on… Algebra?” he questioned, looking over to the sheet of paper. “You did question 2 wrong by the way,”