by Staci Hart
Lily glanced frantically over her shoulder. “Cooper, go. You shouldn’t have come, not like this.”
But Cooper was watching me, his eyes burning with anguish, chest heaving and nose bloodied. “You have to know how I feel about you. I’ve only ever told you the truth. I’ve been trying to prove myself to you every day — prove to you that you can trust me. That I won’t hurt you. Time is the last thing I want to give you, but I will because that’s what you need, because that’s what you asked me for. If fighting for you means that I have to stay away, then I’ll leave. But don’t question my feelings for you. Don’t ever question that.” His voice faltered.
I wanted to run to him. I wanted to run away from him. But I couldn’t bring my feet to move.
He looked back to West. “I would never do anything to betray you, and you know it, West. You know that.” His eyes found mine again. “Don’t let this be the end, Maggie.”
“Go, Cooper. Now.” West growled, fists clenched at his side.
“I’m sorry,” he said to both of us.
“I don’t want to fucking hear it.”
Cooper’s jaw flexed, and he nodded, looking to me once more for a moment that seemed to stretch on longer than it was. And then he turned and walked out the door.
West spun around, turning his fury on me. “What the fuck, Maggie? Why? Why Cooper? You had all of New York to choose from, and you picked the one guy who we all knew you couldn’t trust. Fucking Cooper.”
I took a breath to speak, but West closed his eyes, waved a hand as he turned away.
“You know what? I don’t even want to know.” He stepped toward the door and muttered, “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Lily touched his arm, but he shook her off.
“You knew about this, didn’t you?”
She opened her mouth, the apology on her face clear. He stopped her before she spoke.
“You did. Goddammit, Lily. Goddammit.” He shook his head at us, hurt. Betrayed. And then he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
Lily turned to me with tears in her eyes. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “Why did he come here? What happened?”
I took a shuddering breath and tried to explain. “My bag was stolen, and I had nothing. I couldn’t call West, you know? So I went to Cooper’s, and … I … I said some horrible things to him and then he told me to leave, so I did,” I rambled, the tears falling again.
Lily sat down at the table and dropped her head into her hands. “We fucked up.”
I just stared at the door, regretting everything. “No, I did.”
BORN TO RUN
Maggie
I LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW of the plane the next morning, across the tops of the clouds, down at the ground that stretched out in patches cut by roads and rivers. It was hard to grasp just how far away things were, grasp the scale of it all from so high. Everything was distorted by distance, making it feel more familiar than it was. What looked like a tree was really a copse. What looked like a house was a neighborhood.
Distance changed everything. Or at least that was what I was hoping.
I’d waited until Lily was gone, feigning sleep even as I felt her willing me to get up. And once she was gone, I packed my suitcase, wrote a letter to my friends, and took a cab to the shelter. In the wake of the explosion the night before, I texted my phone from Lily’s and received a message back within minutes. One of the kids had taken my bag, hidden it in his parents’ room in the shelter. Everything was intact and in place, and I hung it on my shoulder, feeling like some balance had been restored.
And so I told them I was leaving. Susan assured me that my job would be waiting for me, so long as I could work remotely on lesson plans that another volunteer would implement.
I thought about the letter I’d left on the table, the apology that wouldn’t ever be enough. But it was the best I could do. I couldn’t risk ruining anything else. I’d hurt everyone, exploded everything. Cooper. West. Lily. And there was only thing left to do.
Leave.
So I bought a ticket that cost three times what it should have. I boarded the plane and left the city behind. Left my friends behind. I left Cooper behind.
The clouds in the distance stretched up, casting massive shadows on the ground below. I had tried to read my book, but nothing could hold my attention. I tried to write in an attempt to purge the emotion, but nothing came. So I stared out the window with my earbuds buried in my ears as I watched the world pass by.
The only person I’d spoken to was my father, who had agreed to pick me up at the airport and not to tell West. I didn’t want him to find out until Lily did — after I was long gone.
The plane descended, and I watched the roads and trees below, marveling as they came into focus that they were so much farther away than I’d realized. And we landed and pulled up to the terminal, waiting patiently as the travelers filed out in a stream occasionally broken by someone digging in an overhead compartment. The humidity hit me before I reached the door, nearly swallowed me up as I walked through the ramp and into the terminal.
My father was waiting for me in baggage — I saw him the second I stepped into the room, standing against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He was long and lean, like a blond West with a beard to match, though Daddy’s was more grey than it was blond. He saw me and pushed off the wall, eyes sad behind his thick-framed glasses.
Just the sight of him summoned the tears. I rubbed my nose, hoping I could keep them at bay.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he approached, opening his arms to hug me, and any hope I had was lost.
The tears fell hot and steady as I stood the baggage claim, tucked into my father’s chest as he rocked me gently.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
I wanted to believe him more than anything. The worst of it had passed after a minute or two, and I pulled away, sniffling, brushing away tears. “I’m s-sorry.”
He held me at arm’s length, his face soft. “It’s all right. Don’t be sorry.”
“Have you heard from West?”
“Not yet.” He shook his head, not pressing me for more as we walked over to the carousel just as it dinged and began to turn. A bag slid down the metal ramp with a zip and a thump, and everyone converged to the edges of the machine with eager eyes.
I twisted my fingers together. “Thank you. For letting me come home again and all.”
He smiled down at me. “You expected us to turn you away?”
I tried to smile back. “Not exactly. But I know it hasn’t been easy having me popping in and out of your space over the last few months.”
“Your mom and I understand. I’m just glad we can be there to hold you up when you fall. Been doing it since you started walking. Feels just as good to protect you now as it did then.”
I took a deep breath and let it out.
He watched me. “You gonna tell me what this is all about?”
My eyes were on the pile of duffle bags and suitcases heading toward us. “I will.”
“Because it seems it’s more than just a simple visit.”
“Can’t a girl just miss her dad?”
“Oh, sure.” He bobbed his head. “But usually that warrants more than a six hour notice.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry to derail your entire day.”
“Quit apologizing.” My bag rounded the bend, and Dad stepped up to grab it from the carousel. “Come on, kiddo. Your mom’s waiting for us at home. I think she made cookies.”
I laughed. “She would.”
“Yes, she would.”
We walked out of baggage and through the sliding doors, toward the parking lot. “How do you like the new job?”
“It feels good to be doing something productive again, you know? I feel like I’ve just been useless for ages, so going to the shelter and seeing the smiling faces of those kids makes me feel … I don’t know. Needed. Like I was making their lives better, somehow. It made me
remember why I loved teaching.”
He smiled down at me. “That right there is why I’m glad you got outta here. You needed that reminder that this isn’t all there is in the world.”
“I only wish I’d gotten the job sooner.”
“And they were okay with you leaving for … how long are you staying?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He nodded. “Well, your room’s still just like you left it. Your mom can’t figure out what she wants to do with it. I think she just doesn’t want to admit that her kids have all left the roost permanently.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “Semi-permanently.”
We reached his vintage truck — a black and grey 1965 Ford F-100 — and he laid my suitcase down in the bed before we climbed in. The old truck rumbled when he started it and backed out of the spot.
We didn’t say much on the way home. I just leaned on the door and watched out the window, everything so familiar. A few weeks hadn’t changed a single thing, but everything was different. We drove into the suburbs, past the big box grocery stores and shopping strips, into the manicured neighborhood where I grew up, and came to a stop at the light into our subdivision, right across from the high school. School had just let out, and I watched the kids laughing and smiling, riding bikes, skateboarding, walking in packs. It was a walk I’d made hundreds of times with Jimmy by my side.
It was then that I wondered if coming home wasn’t another mistake.
The light changed, and we pulled into our neighborhood, into our driveway. I followed him into the house I grew up in, the house that always smelled like gardenias, thanks to the multitude of candles Mom had going almost around the clock. She stepped out of the kitchen when she heard us and flew over to me.
“Come here, baby.” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “What in the world happened? Are you all right?” She backed away, still holding my arms, her bright eyes inspecting me.
“I’m … I’ll be okay, I think.”
“Well, I made cookies and sangria. You can have your pick — whichever one you think’ll make you feel better.”
“Maybe both?”
“That’s just fine too. Come on and have a seat.” She patted the bar stool at the island as she made her way to the counter.
I took a seat, watching her back as she filled the sangria glasses she’d already set out in preparation, and probably freshly hand washed, too. Because, you know, dust. She was just sort of together that way.
Dad sat down next to me.
“You want one too, Luke?” she asked and moved her curly black hair out of her face.
“Well, I don’t want to get left out,” he said with a smirk.
She smiled over her shoulder and finished pouring drinks, put them all on a tray with the cookies, and set them between all of us. She took one and leaned on the counter.
“So, tell us the story, Mags.” She took a bite of her cookie, big blue eyes watching me.
I took a drink first, then set down my glass again with my eyes on an orange slice suspended in the sweet wine. “I sorta ruined everything.”
“How do you figure?” Dad took a drink.
“Well …” I had no idea how to broach it. I shook my head. “I ran away from here to hide in New York. But I only just realized that I can’t run away from something that’s inside of me.”
“Ah,” Mom said knowingly. “Jimmy?”
“Partly. That’s the biggest part of it, I suppose. But then … I was seeing someone.”
Mom made a disapproving face.
“I know. That’s not even the worst of it.” I picked up my drink. “I was seeing Cooper Moore.” That ice-cold wine felt good going down. I felt like I needed the whole pitcher to normalize.
Dad’s brow dropped. “Pretty little rich boy, Cooper Moore? The one who won’t settle down?”
I sighed. “The very one.”
He shook his head. “No wonder you didn’t want me to talk to West.”
I slumped a little in my seat. “We tried to keep it from him, but he found out last night. I’d already ended things with Cooper. I mean, the timing was all wrong. Everything was all wrong. And then it blew up in my face. West is mad at us, even Lily because she knew. Cooper’s hurt. I’m confused. I ruined everything. It just got so complicated, and I couldn’t stay.”
Mom watched me, adding gently. “But that’s life, Maggie. It’s sticky and ugly and complicated. If you keep running away, you’ll never find your place.”
“I know.”
“What does any of that have to do with Jimmy?” she asked.
“He sent me a box of things, keepsakes, old pictures. My engagement ring. A letter. And there was no hiding from myself anymore. I just … I broke down, and I’ve been swinging like a pendulum ever since. I thought time would help, but after last night … I couldn’t stay. If it weren’t for me, none of them would be hurt.”
Dad’s lips were flat. “That son of a bitch. He’s done enough to hurt you, but he still keeps coming around like the goddamn tomcat he is, howlin’ at the back door.”
Mom gave him a look before turning to me. She handed me a cookie, which I accepted gratefully. I took a bite as she spoke. “Have you talked to Jimmy since you got the package?”
I shook my head and swallowed. “He texted me, but I hadn’t decided how to handle him.”
Dad gestured with his glass. “I’ll handle him.” He took a long sip.
“Oh, for goodness sake, Luke.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Well, now you’re here, so you have a whole new set of options when it comes to him. Think you might want to see him?”
“I don’t want to see him, no. But I might need to. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet.”
“Honey, you might not ever be ready. Doesn’t seem like you can afford to wait all that much longer.”
I took another bite of my cookie, knowing she was right.
“Do you think you might stay for good?” she asked and ate the last bite of her cookie.
“I honestly don’t know. I just knew I needed to get out of everyone’s hair because I was all tangled up in it. Scissors were the only way out.”
She dusted off her hands over the tray. “Well, your brother won’t be mad at you forever. In fact, he’s probably less mad at you than he is Cooper.”
“Oh, he’s plenty mad at Cooper — West nailed him in the face last night.”
Mom snickered. “Of course he did. It’s genetic. You should have seen your father when we were younger. Did you know he bloodied my prom date’s nose?”
Dad frowned and pointed at her. “First off, you should have been at prom with me, and not Brad Wellington.”
She waved him off. “I went home with you, didn’t I?”
But Dad kept going. “Secondly, he was trying to Hoover your face on the dance floor, and I couldn’t stand for that. You deserve better than to get mauled by that trout in the middle of a high school gym.”
She gestured to him, giving me a look. “See what I mean?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “West is just so mad at all of us. Lily kept it from him because I asked her to. I shouldn’t have put her in that position. I shouldn’t have ever started seeing Cooper at all.”
Mom shook her head. “Lily made her own choice, and I promise, West won’t be mad at her for long either. You know he sees reason once he’s finished seeing red. As for Cooper … well, I don’t know what to tell you there.”
I felt like a deflated balloon. “There’s nothing to decide, not right now. I need to talk to West. I need to regroup. Lily said I need closure with Jimmy. So I’ve got to figure out how to chase that down.”
“If he finds out you’re here, you know he’ll be over here in a heartbeat. Do you still want Dad to keep him away, or should we let him come?”
Dad looked thrilled. “Oh, please tell me you don’t want him around.”
I squirmed in my seat. “Can we decide if the time comes?”
“Of course,” Mom answered.
&
nbsp; I let out a breath. “All right.”
“Well,” she straightened up and smiled. “Daddy put ribs in the smoker, and I made peach cobbler, so we’ll get you fed. If nothing else, your stomach will be happy.”
“I will gladly eat my feelings for a few days.”
“Good.” She chuckled, her eyes soft. “Maggie, all of this is temporary. You’ll feel better being alone, but your problems won’t go away. They’ve got a knack for sneaking in when you’re not looking to knock you on your ass. So take all the time you need, but don’t hide anymore.”
“All right.”
She searched my face. “We just want you to be whole again, baby.”
My nose burned. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Want some help with your suitcase? I think I heard your dad volunteer.”
Dad snorted and made to get up.
I waved them off and slid off my stool. “Nah, I can get it. Thanks though. I’ll go get unpacked.”
They watched me leave, and I felt their worry and sadness, veiled by their warmth and humor. I climbed the stairs with my suitcase, walked into the room where I’d spent my childhood, the twin bed and posters, my vintage Barbie collection along the high shelf that ran around my room. I sat down in the bay window seat and looked out into the yard.
Up in my room, I felt safe again, as if being within those walls erased my problems, exempted me from grown-up responsibility.
I only wished it were true.
Cooper
The room was almost completely dark, and I sat in the leather chair where I’d been for … I didn’t know how long. I was unshaven, still in the clothes I’d slept in, scotch in my hand and an empty bottle on the ground next to me, my chair turned to face the print of Gambit and Rogue’s first kiss.
Their story was bittersweet. Rogue could never be with Gambit — not without killing him. Touching him would drain his life, his memories, his power. Kissing him would kill him. But he loved her all the same, even though he’d never really understood love before. He needed her. And when he thought the world was ending, he did the one thing — the only thing — he’d ever wanted to do.