Before she could speak, though, the truck pulled to a stop. She didn’t even see it at first.
Maggie did not believe places like this actually existed. Not anymore anyway. She had seen dozens of them before, but only as movie sets.
The outside of the old brick building had a blue-green door and identically colored frames around the large windows. Inside, the booths were a similar blue-green, but the rest of diner was impossibly yellow, though the paint was little dingy. The stove hissed, delicious smelling smoke pouring out from the kitchen. There was a real silver bell that dinged there. There was even a glass dessert pan with pie inside, some sort of berry, its top crisp and its insides pouring out onto the platter. A few people eating or sipping coffee looked up then away, uninterested.
“Hungry?” Tommy smiled. She nodded enthusiastically.
He led her to a booth away from the other customers, and someone behind the counter told them they would be right there. Mags scooted awkwardly in across from Tommy, booth squeaking as she did. There was no chain smoking or artsy photos or crappy tile like those roadside wanna-be chains. This was the real deal. The plain paper menus read simply, “Sallie’s.” Maggie flipped it over in her hands, making sure it was real.
“I love this place,” she said in awe.
“You haven’t even eaten yet,” scoffed Tommy.
She shrugged, uncaring. “It’s so cute.”
They ordered their drinks, and she asked him for suggestions. “I’m getting the breakfast with hash browns and eggs. All their breakfasts are good. Dad used to bring me and Tyler here for the breakfast,” he said quietly.
She looked up, her interest piqued by his mention of his dad. Seeing this, he continued, “It was a way to see him when he was working all the time because they serve breakfast at all hours. He’d order breakfast for us and we’d get coffee like him, only time we were allowed.” He chuckled to himself. “I never liked the coffee.”
Maggie smiled.
“Don’t come by much anymore,” Tommy added. She knew what he was trying to imply. That meant he didn’t come here a lot with Amanda. He was doing something different with Maggie.
The waitress arrived, bouncing on her heels expectantly. “The hamburger steak is good too, if you want lunch,” Tommy told her. “Better than my mom’s, so she doesn’t make it anymore. Tuna melt’s popular.”
She ordered the pancakes and bacon, a safe choice, and they were left staring at one another over the table.
“I am really sorry about what I said last night,” he confessed out of nowhere. “I got so defensive when Mark said...what he said. But I shouldn’t have said it, uh, how I did. I know we aren’t dating or anything, but it couldn’t have been nice to hear that.”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Sorry.” He smiled apologetically.
“It’s okay. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” she smirked, taking a sip of her orange juice and looking out the window.
“Okay.” He smiled. “I will.”
“Why did you attack Mark anyway?”
“He knocked you down. I think he did it on purpose,” Tommy barely spoke. She couldn’t believe her ears. Was someone finally seeing his violent side besides her? Clearly, he did not want to admit it, but he had! “After what you said he did on the cliff, I just got really angry. I was scared he would hurt you. Maybe that’s nuts. We are all so on edge.”
“You guys make up yet? His comment was a little below the belt. About you not playing football.”
Tommy shook his head. “Mark knows me. He could have said much worse if he wanted to.” He took a long drink.
“Like what?” she heard herself ask.
“My dad,” he swallowed, barely audible. She looked down at her menu.
Luckily, the food appeared at that moment. The last time she had attempted to eat, Mags remembered, it was nachos smothered in guilt, even having just milk for lunch Friday. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until the steam from the pancakes and sizzling bacon reached her nostrils. Her stomach audibly growled.
“Enjoy.” Tommy laughed away her embarrassment. She did, each hot, salty bite. The syrup was real maple, so dark gold and sticky sweet it was heavenly. She sucked it off her fingers.
“Mmm,” she moaned, eyes closed, making Tommy look up. “This so good.”
“Glad you like it.” They talked a little, which she welcomed to help her slow down from devouring all her food in one breath. She didn’t want to look like a total savage, even if this wasn’t a date. She didn’t know. He had asked her. It was a meal, and it was a Saturday, but he had not said.
Someone named Jill brought the check as they finished. Maggie regretted not leaving room for pie. Tommy paid. She clamped her hands onto the cool surface of the table. It was a date.
“Want to come over and hang out?” he asked as he held the door open for her. She nodded.
Just as they reached the car, a gentle roll of thunder sounded as the puffy, gray clouds all smashed together broke open, dots of water trickling down. They hurried into the truck. The ride home was dark, with spots of sunshine here and there. They watched people hurry for cover all the way back to Tommy’s place, which was almost close enough to walk.
The rain was slight, easing off as they hurried inside, but cold. They tore their outer layers off at the door, leaving their wet shoes on the tile. Tommy laughed. “We always end up tearing our clothes off when we get here.”
She giggled, but he seemed to have realized what he had just said. He froze and fell silent in embarrassment. She smiled harder at that.
Tommy put on a movie. He didn’t ask which; they had talked about movies minutes ago at the diner. Maggie watched the screen as the earth spun around, birds tweeting, and the first hints of music started. She didn’t usually admit it, but it was her favorite. Somehow, she had not minded admitting it to Tommy.
They sat on the couch, their legs touching, watching the suspenseful opening they both knew by heart—rustling leaves, shouts, men carrying guns, a mysterious crate. Maggie hugged a small pillow, and couldn’t help but smile, catching him doing the same from time to time in the corner of her eye. They laughed along with the most memorable lines, repeating them under their breath. Perfectly innocent.
As the movie picked up speed and the protagonists arrived at their destination, she gradually nestled herself into his side. It wasn’t something a girlfriend would want to walk in on, but anyone else might think their positioning completely innocent. Or mostly innocent.
Tommy’s long fingers shyly brushed her knee that was bent close to him. He stared at the scene, the colors illuminating his face in soft flashes. She pretended not to notice as his hand lingered there, fingertips tracing small patterns. It almost tickled, if the contact didn’t set her skin on fire. There was no way she was moving a muscle.
But then came the exciting part, and she could not help but move, squeal a little and yell at the screen, “Move! Faster!”
Tommy burst into peals of laughter, his whole body shaking against her with it. “What?” she asked, suddenly bashful. “What!” She shoved him since as he couldn’t catch his breath to answer.
He shook his head in response. “You know they live.”
“It’s still nerve-racking.”
“How?”
“Stop making fun of me.” She slapped him playfully on the chest several times, secretly enjoying the solid thump it made.
“No, no, no.” He caught her hand. “It’s cute you get so excited.”
“Cute, huh?”
“Yeah,” he answered softly, brushing his thumb across her dimple. The screen flashed from dark to light and there was a sudden loud screech, making them jump.
“Ha!” she teased Tommy.
His arm had managed to get draped behind her. She didn’t fight it. She was so full and it was so blissfully warm inside. He smelled so nice. She found herself moving gradually closer and closer, growing a little drowsy.
They sat
side by side still, as the plot thickened, but she on the inside of the couch and he on the outside, both propped upright on the same armrest. It was innocent enough that if someone walked in, they wouldn’t instinctively leap up, scrambling into a more respectable pose, but it wasn’t something they would want anyone to waltz in on either.
Suspense built, and Maggie continued to give little gasps in places she knew a fall was coming or a close call. Tommy chuckled at her, his hand playing along her arm. She tried to ignore the effect it had on her, but she was certain he could feel how hot her whole body had grown, how alert to everything. She pretended the hand she dared to lightly rest on his chest, tracing circles, was there absentmindedly, but it was deliberate.
Just as danger unexpectedly popped out behind the blonde woman, Tommy squeezed Maggie playfully, making her squeal in surprise. She used it as an excuse to grab onto him tightly, as if terrified. To be fair, her heart was pounding. If she could feel his heart hammering away, he could certainly feel her pathetic, flighty beats.
Somehow they had slid further down so they were almost laying on the couch, his head on the armrest. Almost. He had an arm around her, and she had her arm on his chest, his outstretched and her bent legs were touching. She had her head pressed against his chest to hide her eyes from a particularly gruesome part. She breathed him in greedily, felt his chuckle against her cheek. Anyone who walked in now would pause, embarrassed. Mags was seriously glad in that moment that Tommy was such a nice guy, because if he wasn’t she would be in very, very bad trouble. She wanted him. Bad.
It was outlandish how much tension coursed when they were barely touching, but the restraint was torture. Wet torture. She glanced up at him. He was looking at her, big eyelashes fanning down. His fingers lightly touched the end of her hair, their eyes fixed on one another, looking for signals. Both of them were only wide, warm, staring back.
She didn’t notice he was moving until she felt the soft touch of his lips on hers, so sweet and innocent she didn’t even feel as if she had been kissed. He waited half a second for her reaction, and when she did not pull away, he pressed against them again, hard, breathing hungrily, moving against her mouth. She kissed him back. Harder. Their bodies were already pressed together, forced close by the couch. They forgot how they were tangled, pressing against each other’s warmth, lips parting teasingly. The kiss deepened. The room got hotter.
A car door shut and there was a wet sound at the foot of the couch.
“Oh, Sam!” Tommy groaned. The dog had licked his toe. “Thanks for the warning.”
They laughed lightly until Maggie realized while her legs ran parallel to his, her torso was propped up on his chest. She forced herself to push off, and he righted himself, expecting the door to open. But when she inched away from him, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her back, pressing his face to her hair and inhaling. She relaxed against him. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he murmured. She felt a thrill jolt. The protagonists were about to escape, just one final epic scene.
The door opened, light pouring in the darkened den, so the rain must have stopped, then it clicked shut. Neither turned around. Tommy’s family member did not speak until he was passing the couch. “About time,” Tyler shot at them.
The credits were playing, Tommy humming along with the theme. He looked at her. “Want to watch the sequel?”
Instead of answering, she attacked his lips again. No cheer, no friends, notoriety. She could live with that. If she could have these lips to herself.
She almost choked, which would have been mortifying, when she felt Tommy’s hand on her side, long fingers curling along her ribs. She made a pathetic, strangled noise instead, which seemed to have an instant effect on Tommy. Nice Guy vanished inside a half-growl, restraint breaking as he put one arm behind her neck while kissing her, fingers there tightly intertwined in her hair, tugging slightly at the roots. The other hand was wrapped around her side, pulling her against him as his thumb teased up and down, brushing the bottom of her bra. She gasped aloud; she heard it.
He stalked forward, lips parted as he licked them. Hovering over the top of her, the hand on her side grabbed her hip and he lifted her entire body in a weightless half a second so that she was lying against the couch. His hand left her hair to glide all the way down to her bent knee at his side. He grabbed her leg, needy, stroking the knee again, then rubbing along her calf with same rhythm as he kissed her and as he moved his body above her. Up and down.
She clutched his shirt collar in both hands, pulling her toward him, breathing in his clean scent heavily. He kissed her neck, right behind the ear. She whined.
She had to press against him, lifting her body up to meet his. He pushed down against her and she felt every muscle in his body was tense. Then, she felt it. He was hard. Incredibly hard. Maggie blushed proudly.
Tommy broke apart, catching his breath, his face pressed perfectly against hers. His eyes looked pained. “Sorry,” he said.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just hard for me.” She thought they were done talking about Amanda. She sat back. “It’s just, I feel bad, not because I like you but because you know…if she hadn’t died, well…” He didn’t finish.
She would not be here right now, if Amanda were alive.
It hurt worse than when he had screamed she wasn’t his girlfriend. Being angrily denied in front of the school and their friends was one thing, being told she was a replacement was another entirely. Maggie usually didn’t cry when she was sad. She could walk behind coffins and watch sad movies. Usually. Not then.
It must have shown, because he said her name apologetically, reaching for her face. She pulled away as if he had hit her, running to her shoes. She shoved her feet in them, thankful for her habit of never unlacing them. She grabbed her coat as she headed out the door, not bothering to close it. She was past the truck and at the trash cans where she had vomited before she had even decided to leave.
“Margaret!” Tommy had just managed to get on his shoes and scurry after her. “Margaret, wait. What are you doing?” He touched her arm. Somehow, it stung her chest, and she wrenched it away. “Where are you going?” he asked incredulous. “Would you just stop a minute!” He stepped in front of her.
She ignored him, side-stepping.
“What did I say?” He jogged beside her as she made quick strides down the middle of the road, a few tears drawing tracks down her face. She angrily rubbed them away, plowing determinedly on. “Come on, get out of the street.” He tried to usher her toward the shoulder of the road.
It was probably best, but again she recoiled, speeding up to the fastest pace she could manage without actually running. “Get away from me,” she mumbled.
“Margaret, please!” Tommy pleaded. She heard a door shut at his house. Maybe Tyler was watching. She didn’t care. She was done with them. “Okay, you don’t want to talk, at least let me drive you home. This is ridiculous.”
“No. I’ll walk.”
“Oh, okay. You going to be that stubborn?”
She glared at him in response.
“Fine. I guess I’ll walk you home then.” He threw up his arms. They hit his side with a smack.
“Don’t bother.”
“Why not?”
“Well, you wouldn’t be if she were still here.” She stopped abruptly and faced him, eyes piercing. He looked befuddled for a moment, mouth open, eyebrows together. Then, realization dawned, and he began to say something.
Maggie was distracted as she noticed a tree behind him growing taller and taller, reaching up and up over them. She tried to hear Tommy speak, but his mouth was moving so slowly and no sound was coming out. Then, his face fell out of view—why did he look so frightened?
She was looking at the sky then and couldn’t hear anything. Everything felt cold and hard and dirty, like the ground. But she wouldn’t be on the ground, would she? She was walking.
She couldn’t see anymore. Everything was black and hollow. The eart
h must have fallen away beneath her. She tried to see in the darkness but couldn’t. She tried so hard her eyes were hurting, screaming for the light, trying to pull themselves out of her eye sockets to search for it.
It seemed like there was something she was supposed to be doing. Something important. She had forgotten something, but she couldn’t get up and do it then. She couldn’t move. She could only feel something pounding against her head. Bam. Bam. Bam.
She needed to breathe, but she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t call for help. Was someone else yelling somewhere far off? Trying to stay calm, she told herself she would be able to breathe soon. Then, she forgot what she saying.
Things swam dizzily around her as she stayed still for a long time, hours maybe, or perhaps it was no time at all. And then she woke up.
Chapter Nineteen
Waking Up
“Margaret Brennan.” Her mother’s voice huffed through the fog of her brain. “I told you not to forget to take that damn pill!”
Maggie groaned. Her head felt like it was splitting. She blinked open her eyes and instantly regretted it. “Turn the lights off,” her hoarse voice requested.
“They are off,” her mom informed her. “I’ll get you something to drink.” She was home, she surmised, in her bed.
“Maggie?” Tommy asked. Maggie covered her face with her pillow. She was humiliated.
“What happened?” she asked him.
“You—you had a seizure.”
“Oh. Great.” Yep. That made sense. She had forgotten to take her pill again Friday night what with all the excitement. That meant she had forgotten her medication more days than she had remembered it this past week. What did she think was going to happen? If you don’t take your seizure medications, you can have seizures.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered into her apparently dim bedroom.
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