She moved higher, panting with the effort, legs and lungs and even hands stinging as she clutched branches and vines to help her. The rain had made the climb even slower. Tommy followed without complaint, though it didn’t seem to be as hard for him. She almost fell face forward.
“Careful!” he warned, grabbing for her arm.
She knew they were close to the top. The light was becoming clearer. It was also becoming clearer that her smooth rubber boot soles just weren’t going to hold on the slick, black mud. She tried grabbing tufts of grass, a root, rocks, her hands getting cold and filthy, but her next step forward brought her backward. Graceful, Mags, she thought.
To her horror, it happened in slow motion, blush creeping up just as she slid backward, arms flapping like a startled duck.
“Whoa, whoa—” Tommy was moving behind her, trying to get out of the way. Probably. She couldn’t see him.
Then, she felt his body behind her. They must have collided. This finally threw off his balance too. With a painful bump, they hit the ground, sliding backward down the muddy incline like kids on a slide.
Mags tried to turn, grab onto a small sapling to keep from sliding farther back, but she missed by a fraction of an inch, and they kept slipping around the sharp bend, too tangled to possibly grab anything to help. They made a wet smack when they finally landed.
It should not have been so hard to stop laughing. If they could have caught their breaths—or a root or small boulder—they might not have reached the drop where he had given her a leg up, their backs facing downhill.
Tommy fell facedown, trying to catch himself, hands falling evenly on either side of her. The mud was slick there though, so his hands slowly swept out from under him. His face, inches away from hers, was full of comical panic, as if he was falling to his death, that made her cackle as he inevitably watched his arms slide further apart.
She stopped laughing. His face fell on her chest. Maggie blushed at he made an oomph sound into her sweater. Struggling, arm muscles tense on either side of her, he lifted himself once again.
“You okay?” he asked, tugging her toward him urgently to check.
She nodded, feeling a little sore and more than a little damp. “You?” He nodded, leaning back on a tree trunk. His eyes were wide with surprise, still bright with humor. Once they felt safe, panting, looking at each other, they burst into laughter again. Sitting sloppily against one other in the mud, each jostle of laughter shaking the other’s body slightly, their gasps fell into rhythm.
Tommy popped up, brushing his pants legs in vain. He looked down at her with a sigh and shook his head once, extending his hand. She took it, not daring to look up into his eyes as red as she must be. He pulled her up slowly, mud weighing her down. Standing there, their hands linked, neither seemed to know what to do for a moment.
They let go, surveying the brush around them. Maggie sighed, still looking down. “I guess there really wasn’t much of a chance of finding it. It’s been washed or blown away by now if Mark didn’t pick it up.”
“You think Mark picked it up?” Tommy asked, puzzled.
“If he did, he hasn’t said anything.” Maggie caught a glimpse of Tommy as she pretended to inspect a patch of moss. He looked to be thinking hard. She popped up again. “Well, do you want to come over and wash your clothes?” she offered. “You can wear mine while they dry,” she joked.
“I don’t think yours are going to fit me.”
Looking one another up and down, they looked like a toddler had assaulted them with a muddy paintbrush.
“We better go to my house. Come on,” he said.
She followed him back down the leisurely winding trail to his truck, trying not to look too pleased about where she was headed. She had not planned to go over to Tommy’s. But she wasn’t complaining either. After the night she had, she deserved it as far as she was concerned.
Of course, she wasn’t a flawless person. There were a few unpleasant things she probably deserved too. However, she was adamant that she did not deserve to be trapped on that road again. If she were ever to go to hell, this is what it would be, she thought, squishing her face against the window and not caring how she looked. An unending road like this one.
The little devil of a road twisted and wound, dropped and fell all the way back to town. She couldn’t chat. He understood and they enjoyed the ride in silence—or rather, he enjoyed the ride. She endured it.
“Almost there.” Tommy stifled a chuckle as they entered his neighborhood. She could almost swear he was going slower and curvier than was needed, but he was too nice for that.
When the car stopped, she jumped out, getting very well-acquainted with the pavement of his driveway. When things were still again, she stood.
“Never again,” was all she said. Tommy lost it. She stepped forward toward the door where he was headed, jingling the keys, and then came one final lurch.
It had only pretended to be gone, that feeling. That horrible, wormy feeling. The last thing she wanted was to hurl in front of Tommy, so, unable to speak, she ran for the dumpster.
She buried her head behind a bush as her body heaved as hard as it could. Her stomach wrenched up all it had, actually making her whole body feel a cool wave of instant relief. Except it burned her throat and her nose. She coughed. Great. Super. Puke breath.
She covered her head in her hands as she returned to the door, unable to look at him. He shook with laughter he was trying to hold inside. She glared.
Indoors, Tommy’s house was warm and dry, Sam’s tail wagging in greeting. There was the smell of fresh laundry again. Maggie wondered if Tommy’s mom always did laundry.
They rounded into the kitchen, Tommy already tugging off his blue hoodie. Then his shirt.
Maggie kept her eyes on the counter. Sparkling square white tiles. A lazy Susan. Paper towels. A wicker basket of fruit. Fascinating. No need to look at a shirtless Tommy. There was so much to see.
Across the bar, however, the glass door of the china cabinet gave her a generous view. She wasn’t sure if those were ribs or muscles. Everything was so tight on his body, rippling.
She tugged off her sweater, a low-cut camisole remaining underneath. She wasn’t planning on revealing that; her purple bra was showing, breasts practically falling out. She picked a little ball of lint from them.
She was proud when she noticed Tommy had stopped moving, eyeing her. Gaping really. Maybe the bra was a good idea. She tried to hide the dimples threatening to give her away but they snuck in anyway, and he must have noticed because he busied himself with going through the nearby pile of fresh clothes.
He carelessly dug through the neatly folded piles, yanking out a pair of basketball shorts and tossing them to her.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll turn around,” he said.
She paused, cautious. She really did want to get these disgusting clothes off, and he was right in assuming there was no reason for her to go change upstairs, smearing mud everywhere. If he showed up, Tyler wouldn’t give warning before opening Tommy’s bedroom door, so it wasn’t safer up there either.
She pulled off her tight jeans while she heard the jingle of Tommy unfastening his belt. And with her hands still around her knees, she heard it. The quick beat of footsteps on the carpet of the stairs. Three bounds and he was standing there, across the counter, balking at her, no time to move.
“Tyler!” she gasped, trying to sound threatening.
Tyler looked a moment, eyebrows high, eyes wide. Tommy jerked around, trying to block his view or something, pants unzipped, hanging on his hips. Maggie covered her waist with the basketball shorts, turning violently red and eyes beginning to water from embarrassment.
Breaking the awkward moment, Tyler dissolved into laughter.
“We were covered in mud,” Maggie mumbled.
“Tyler, get out!” Tommy shouted, pointing to the family room. “Let her get dressed.”
Tyler pointed to himself, but couldn’t speak, wracked
with laughter, doubling over.
Tommy made a half growl, half sigh. Maggie watched his back move with the noise. She could have felt it if she were pressed just a few inches closer. She could smell his skin.
Self-conscious, Maggie looked further down at the shorts in her hand. Since Tommy was blocking Tyler’s full view, she took advantage of the protection to kick off her pants the rest of the way and pull on the silky shorts in a fraction of a second.
Maggie put her hands on her hips as Tommy stepped aside. “It’s really not that funny,” she told Tyler as Tommy retreated into the corner, glaring at his brother.
She rolled her eyes, noticing at that moment how Tyler’s solid pecs twitched as he continued to laugh. Nope. He wasn’t wearing a shirt either. He was still dripping from his shower, dots of water shivering on his spasming skin. He still held a shirt in his hand, as if he was planning on pulling one on as he made his way downstairs.
“Wait, wait,” Tyler gasped, slamming his fist on the white counter as he tried to control himself.
Maggie glanced unconsciously over at Tommy where Tyler pointed, forgetting for a split second what he was doing in the corner. It was strange seeing Tommy blush as he finished tugging on his pants hurriedly. Maggie looked away. He didn’t look happy, but he did look cute.
“We should take a picture.” Tyler wiped his eyes from tears. “We look wild.”
Maggie giggled a little, trying very, very hard not to. She fought every tiny shake of laughter, stifling her chest, and fought the smile that wrenched itself across her face. She clamped a hand over her mouth, picturing how it had looked: Tyler walked in shirtless to Tommy shirtless and she in her undershirt as he undid his belt and she yanked her pants down. They had looked like startled mice, frozen. It was just so ridiculous.
The harder she tried to breathe deeply, the funnier it became. It hurt, but she couldn’t stop giggling. She tried to smother it with her hand, Tommy looking resentfully at them both as he loaded the wash. That just made it worse.
Tittering turned to cackling and Tyler started again with his uncool guffaw. Tommy shook his head in disapproval, pulling the end of his t-shirt down firmly, and left them, walking into the family room.
The other two followed him, trying to stifle their laughter. Tommy sat on the edge of the couch. She moved to sit one cushion over, but Tyler cut in front of her and plopped down, laying longways on it, taking up the rest. He ran a hand through his still-wet hair.
Maggie paused, then moved toward the big comfy chair. Sam was on it. And so was Tyler’s bag.
Tyler smirked, his arm raised as if waiting for something. “Plenty of room,” he said. He was trying to make her choose who to sit on. Mags was half-tempted to sit right on his stomach, but she decided instead she wasn’t having it. She turned and sat on the floor at their feet, back against the sofa.
“You can’t sit on the floor,” Tommy stood instantly.
“I’m fine. Don’t be silly.”
“I’ll move Sam.”
“Aw, but he’s so comfy.” The old dog raised his head hearing his name, but didn’t move. “Besides, if anyone should sit on the floor, it’s Tyler.”
“Agreed,” Tommy said, throwing a pillow at his brother.
“Why is that?” Tyler asked innocently, catching the pillow and putting it behind his neck.
“Because you’re the animal,” Tommy quipped.
Tyler threw it back, hard. “I think Mags should sit on the floor,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because she ditched her date,” Tyler said.
Maggie’s face fell. She turned to apologize to Tyler, but he cut her off mid-breath, “And then I walk in my own house to find you taking your clothes off with my brother.”
“Tyler!” Tommy snapped angrily, walking toward the TV with his back to them to grab the remote.
She gave Tyler a look that meant ‘you better be careful.’
“When I said I wanted to set you up, I didn’t expect it to work so fast,” Tyler whispered. It was loud enough for Tommy to hear, but he switched on the TV at that exact moment. Maggie couldn’t be sure if he was pretending not to hear it or not.
Tommy sat on the floor beside her as sports commentary blared. “Now why are you sitting on the floor?” Tyler wanted to know. He scooted off and slouched next to his brother. “You have to deserve it, you know?”
“I can sit on the floor too.”
“Oh, no you can’t. You’re too good to sit on the floor,” Tyler teased. Tommy swung his head to the side, cutting his brother an unamused look. Maggie smiled slightly at their interaction. Tyler didn’t know how Tommy hated to be called Nice Guy. “What do you think, Mags? Can he hang with us?”
They turned to her. “Uh,” she stuttered. “On the one hand, Nice Guy would never let a girl sit on the floor while he sat on the couch.”
Tommy widened his eyes as if to ask her what she was doing, telling his brother that nickname.
“Nice guy?” Tyler asked.
“On the other hand,” Maggie continued without explaining. “He’s really nice. So no, I don’t think he belongs in such bad company.”
“You’re right,” Tyler nodded seriously. “We might be a bad influence on him.” Tommy was attempting to ignore them, flipping through channels, when Tyler grabbed one arm, nodding for Maggie to do the same on his other side, and they tried to hoist him onto the couch against his will.
“What are you? Stop. Hey.” He thrashed about, trying to shrug them off. Maggie was not very strong, so she jabbed him slightly with her finger and wiggled it in his ribs, causing him to jerk and laugh. Between her tickling and Tyler’s force, he was quickly on the couch yelling breathlessly for them to stop. They did, knowing Tommy wouldn’t tolerate such nonsense for long.
She and Tyler sat backs against the couch where Tommy laid. Some people on TV played football.
“I am a bad guy too.” Tommy looked at his socks, quiet again.
“Why?”
Maggie mentally thanked Tyler for feeling no hesitancy in asking what she wouldn’t dare.
“I’m just…not always nice,” Tommy confessed, sliding slowly to the floor as he fiddled with his shirttail.
“We are going to need a proper confession. Or you can’t sit here,” Tyler informed him.
Mags just faced him, trying to feel what he was feeling, but she didn’t have a clue.
“Well,” he smirked, after a thoughtful minute. “I did hit on your date.”
“You ho.” Tyler pretended to be appalled at his brother. “Well, you are by far the biggest slut in the room.”
“Ha!” Tommy clearly was not buying it. “What about you, Ty?”
“Well, I’m sure Maggie is innocent, right Mags?”
Oh god. He actually asked that. She froze. Tommy had whipped his head around to look at her. “Leave her alone,” Tommy mumbled.
“See? You need to do some penance. Mags is innocent. I’ve confessed to being awful. You, dirty boy, can go in there and get my chips.” He kicked him.
“Get your own chips.”
“Chips!” Tyler continued to kick his brother childishly until Tommy stood to fetch the chips.
Tyler scooted over against Maggie’s side and switched channels. “Thanks.” He took the bag when Tommy returned and ate happily, watching some action movie.
“Move,” Tommy told him calmly.
“Why?” He played dumb, offering Maggie some chips. “You want to sit here?” he feigned surprise. Maggie snorted a little.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Tyler again asked innocently, shrugging and looking around Tommy’s legs at the screen.
Tommy opened his mouth, then shut it again. Sighing, he sat down on Tyler’s other side. Tyler gave Maggie a goofy smile. It was funny, but sitting next to Tyler watching what’s-his-face shoot people all evening was not exactly what she had in mind. Or what she would have had in mind. If she had planned any of this. Which of course she had not.
&nb
sp; The movie was actually pretty good and suspenseful with some ridiculous lines, so they devoured salty, crispy guilt until the front door opened with a slight squeak. The boys’ mother, beautiful hair askew, opened the door, waddling in with her hands full of paper grocery bags. For the first time, Sam felt it worth moving and flopped down to greet her.
“Food!”
“Yes!”
The boys, Maggie smiled to see, both stood to help their mother, who was looking bemused at them all, long lashes blinking repeatedly.
“Hello, Margaret. Why is everyone sitting on the floor?”
They looked at one another, then laughed, taking her bags without giving an answer. As she put the rice in the pantry, Maggie got word from her own mother.
I’m home. Where are you, miss popular?
“Margaret, are you staying for dinner?” Tommy’s mom asked then.
“Oh no, thank you. My mom just got back.”
“I’ll take you back,” Tommy said, grabbing his keys and her clothes.
If his mother noticed, which she probably did, she did not let on.
“I can take her,” Tyler teased. Tommy glared at him without answering. Again, smiling Mrs. Latchley appeared oblivious.
“Well, then you must come tomorrow. You and your mother if she’s in. We used to have big Sunday dinners.” No one said anything. Maggie was not sure why they used to and no longer did, but she was sure it wasn’t a good idea to ask.
“Thank you,” Maggie said instead. “See you tomorrow then.”
“See you, Mags.” Tyler was already eating an orange.
“Do you ever stop eating?” his mother chided as Maggie and Tommy pulled on their shoes and walked outside.
They breathed in the air, still wet but warmer. The tall tree in the yard smelled nice. Cedar, Maggie guessed.
Neither spoke as they got in and began the brief ride to her side of town.
“Sorry about the note,” Tommy finally said.
“Oh, that’s okay. Sorry for puking in your trash can. What were the chances the note was going to still be around anyway? I’m an idiot for losing it.”
Keep Your Friends Close Page 16