“I was feeling a little pasty,” I joked back half-heartedly. Maria narrowed her eyes and I knew she saw through my pathetic attempts at nonchalance. Maria had become a close enough friend that she was able to call me on my bullshit with the best of them.
“Well, you'd best get inside, group starts in ten. You look like you could use a coffee,” she suggested, waiting for me to get to my feet. As I got closer, she tossed me something. I caught the package of Twizzlers and was finally able to give her a genuine smile.
“Figured you’d need them,” Maria said lightly as though it wasn’t a big deal. It had become our thing. After a session, Maria would bring me Twizzlers and I would give her a bag of unsalted pretzels from the vending machine. Stupid maybe, but it was the little stuff that made the bigger, terrifying stuff easier to stomach. Maria understood that those sorts of things were important to me. I needed those tiny, seemingly insignificant gestures.
“You have no idea,” I muttered, tearing open the package. And now we were off to group therapy, fan-flipping-tastic. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for another sixty minutes of sharing my feelings. Maria looped her arm around my waist and leaned into my side. I stiffened, still not feeling entirely comfortable with her easy physical affection. I had never been the touchy feely sort. Particularly not with someone whose name wasn’t Maggie. So this felt wrong. Like a betrayal. Which was ridiculous. I wasn’t with Maggie anymore. And even if I was, I wasn’t remotely attracted to Maria.
But that didn’t change the fact that I knew Maria was attracted to me.
But I didn't move away. And I didn't respond either. I tried not to look as relieved as I felt when we reached the coffee machine and she dropped her arm. “Tough session today, huh,” Maria stated rather than asked. It had to be pretty clear on my face that I was not in a tap dancing kind of mood.
I grabbed the Styrofoam cup from the machine, opening the top in order to dump three packets of sugar inside. I stirred my drink and snorted. “Yeah, you could say that. It's been a pretty crappy day all around,” I admitted, waiting for Maria to get her hot tea.
Maria gave me a sympathetic smile. “That sucks. But just make tomorrow better,” she told me. I swear, sometimes I felt like after we all left this place, we could easily get employed writing f**king fortune cookies. When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. The day is darkest before the dawn. It was a joke. If I didn't need to believe that stuff so badly, I'd laugh at how douchy it sounded.
“Right,” I said shortly. Maria rubbed my arm and gave me a look that let me know a little too clearly exactly what her feelings were where I was concerned.
I cleared my throat. I had to tell her something, anything to stop her from getting too carried away. There was no way in hell I would ever be able to reciprocate her feelings. Not that she wasn't a great girl. But my heart wasn't mine to give away. It had been taken months ago and I didn't see myself getting it back anytime soon.
“Maria,” I started to say, moving away slightly so that her hand dropped from my skin. Her smile flickered and died. “You know I think you're awesome, right?” I said lamely. I couldn't launch into it's not you it's me. There was something fundamentally dickish about that.
Maria laughed without humor and gulped down her tea. “Yes, I'm awesome. And you really like my friendship right?” she asked with a surprising amount of bitterness. Christ, had I led this girl on more than I thought?
“Seriously, Maria. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea...” and then she cut me off again.
She gave me a strained smile. “Nope, no wrong idea here Clay. I've seen the picture by your bed. I know the score. We're friends. Sorry if I made you feel like I wanted something else. Not my intention, I swear.” She held up three fingers in the Girl Scout promise thing.
Damn it, this had the makings of epic awkwardness all over it. Maria Cruz was easily my closest friend here. And at this point in my life, friendship was in short supply.
I jammed my hands into my pockets. “Look, you're my friend. A damn good one at that. Have I f**ked this up in some way?” I asked, trying not to grit my teeth together in frustration. I was sick of miscommunication and mixed signals. Couldn't I have one, uncomplicated relationship?
Maria must have sensed I was not able to deal with any sort of drama, because she backed off quickly. Her eyes dropped shyly and she started to chew on her bottom lip. “Sorry, Clay. I guess you're not the only one that's had a shitty day,” she explained, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear.
She reminded me so much of Maggie just then. Down to the dark hair and total discomfort. It made my heart squeeze tightly in my chest and I just wanted to fix this tiny problem. I wasn't in a position to fix the greater messes I'd created, but this small thing, I could do something about.
I leaned down and bumped my shoulder with hers. “Hey, we're cool. We'll always be cool,” I assured her. Her pretty green eyes blinked a few times, and then softened. Though she didn't touch me as she normally would. No hugs or arm taps. I was fine with that, but I felt a little bad that she felt she couldn't do it.
“Thanks, Clay. After group, let's watch some TV. I bet there's a daytime soap calling my name,” she teased. I made a show of groaning.
“Really? Come on don't subject my manhood to such an overwhelming display of estrogen. I know you want to watch something macho like American Chopper or LA Ink,” I joked.
Maria shook her head and I was able to fall into that small semblance of normalcy I had been able to create for myself.
Chapter Four
-Maggie-
“Why did you bail so early on Saturday?” Daniel asked me after he joined Rachel and me at the lunch table on Monday. I was making pretty little patterns in my mashed potatoes and not really in the mood to explain why I had freaked out and needed to be alone. I was sure that my behavior on Saturday wasn’t a surprise to my friends. But it didn’t stop me from feeling bad for not being able to pick up the pieces and become the “old Maggie” like they wanted me to.
I was trying really hard though. After my light bulb moment at work, I was more determined than ever to stop hiding in my room and to embrace my life. Moping around and writing really bad poetry (which NO ONE would ever see) wasn’t my idea of a good time. So I had gotten dressed. I even made myself a bit more girlie than usual. I amped myself up to engage in some good ol’ teenage shenanigans.
I had gotten in my Corolla, which was still kicking by the way, and headed over to Ray’s. I knew I was in trouble once I had gotten there. There were a lot more cars than I had anticipated. I thought it was going to be a small get together. But there were easily twenty cars lining the driveway. Once I got to the front door, my suspicions were confirmed.