The front door swings open. Eight sweaty middle school boys in basketball shorts shout, screech, and shove each other as theyapproach the counter and start barking out orders.
“That isnotwhat I’m doing,” I tell Bodhi a minute later as we scoop side by side.
“Again,” Bodhi says, eyeing his flexed triceps while he wrestles with an impenetrable mass of dulce de leche, “whatever you say.”
Carter
I feel very creepy right now.
I heard from Bodhi, who heard from Lizzy, who heard from Shana, that Maggie leaves today. So I’m sitting in Toro, parked on her street, five houses down from hers, watching as she packs up the car with her mom, Vivian, and Ron.
And, in case my spying isn’t sketchy enough as is, I also have photos in my lap of Maggie.
They’re the shots I found on my camera.
I had them developed. As a goodbye gift.
I’ll have to get out of the car soon to deliver said gift, but it’s hard to know what the right moment is.
So, instead, I’ve opted to watch as box after box is loaded into the back of Ron’s green Subaru. Maggie and Vivian emerge now from the garage gripping either side of Maggie’s keyboard, laughing as they clumsily make their way to the trunk. Whatever tension there was between them after my wedding ambush appears to have been worked through. They seem incredibly close. It’s like the opposite of me and Lincoln.
I flip through the photos in my lap, the pics from the wedding and my bedroom, including the selfies I took of the two of us. I want Maggie to have these, but I’m questioning the logic of my half-baked plan.
Like, what if I crash this sweet moment and completely kill thegood vibes? What if I just create a fresh wave of sisterly drama?
Maggie’s mom pulls Maggie aside for a hug. She whispers something into her ear, Maggie nodding and tearing up. It’s an intense moment I probably shouldn’t be witnessing. But I can’t look away. Finally, Maggie’s mom finishes talking and leans back to look into her younger daughter’s eyes.
“Thank you, Mom,” Maggie appears to say. “I love you too.”
I shift in my seat.
Am I seriously about to interrupt this major family milestone?
Wasn’t that exactly what screwed up everything so badly a few months ago?
What is wrong with me?
I start the engine.
I love Maggie too much to keep exploding her life.
Oh. Wow.
Love.
Did I actually mean that?
Yeah.
I love Maggie Spear. Which is why I can’t go through with this.
I chuck the photos onto the passenger seat and calmly K-turn the hell out of there.
Carter
Was that the garage door opening?
No. Not yet.
