It would’ve been easier if he hadn’t been there.
I open up a blank message field and type the words quickly, like I’m ripping off a Band-Aid.
Hey when are you talking with Layla?
I hover my finger over the purple Send button and close my eyes tight.
I hear Carter in my head:“It can’t hurt to try and make things right. Right?”
I tap the button.
Carter
“Oh,” I say, stunned to see that it’s Maggie Spear standing outside my front door and not some random delivery person.
“Hi,” she says.
“What, uh...?”
“I could have just called, I know. But I wanted to tell you something in person. If that’s all right. You haven’t talked to Layla yet, have you?”
“Well, no, but I will in...” I look down at my phone—5:19. “Eleven minutes.”
“Whoa,” Maggie says. “Okay, I’ll be quick.”
As confused as I am by this turn of events, I’m also delighted. It’s hard not to feel delighted when I’m near Maggie. “Do you want to come inside?” I ask.
“Oh. Sure.” She slowly steps over the threshold.
Maggie Spear is in my house.
Even though she’s of course been here before, probably many times, which is confirmed when Mom comes out of the kitchen.
“Oh my! Maggie!”
“Hi, Mrs. Cohen,” she says, taking off her sneakers without being asked. “Er, Wendy.”
“Yes. Please call me Wendy, you know that. How are you, sweetheart?” She wraps Maggie in a hug. “I’m surprised to see you.”
“I am too,” I explain. “She just came to tell me something. So it’s not like we’re... Yeah.”
“Fine with me,” Mom says, hands in the air. “As long as it’s what you both want, it’s not my place to butt my big head in.”
“Your head’s not big, Mom.”
“Thank you, Carter. Do you want to stay for dinner, Maggie?”
“Oh, no. Thanks, Wendy.” Underneath her coat, Maggie’s wearing a dark green jumpsuit. It’s cool as hell. “That’s sweet, but... I won’t be here long.”
“We’re having quesadillas,” Mom says, walking back into the kitchen.
Maggie and I stare at each other for a few awkward seconds, during which I remember that my FaceTime with Layla is imminent. I’d been incredibly nervous, but then Maggie came and distracted me from all that. Now I feel jittery all over again.
“I should probably go up to my room to start setting up for the call,” I say. “But you can... you know...” I point upstairs.
“Come with you?” Maggie says.
“Only if you want to.”
