Tate
It takes twenty minutes—not fifteen—but she meets me by the museum just like I demanded. If someone gave me an NHL contract right now, it would probably only feel slightly better than seeing her walk toward me. Every time Maggie Todd does what I want it’s a victory beyond measure because the word stubborn was invented for this girl. She doesn’t look as happy as I hoped she would as she approaches, though.
I glance behind her to make sure no one else is around that would take notice of us, and then I wink at her and turn and walk toward the path that goes around the museum to the path that leads off campus. We walk in silence, an acceptable distance apart until we reach those gates. Colchester street is basically dead. No cars zipping by, no one out on the front porches of the massive, well-spaced houses. Everyone is in town or at the movie, so I let my hand graze hers and our shoulders bump softly as we continue down the street.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she says barely above a whisper.
“Then why are you?”
“Because I’m…I don’t know…bored?” She sighs.
“Ouch.” I am actually a little hurt by that. She sounds exasperated and annoyed. Like she desperately wished she had something better to do.
“It’s just…we both know we don’t like each other, right?” Maggie declares as we turn the corner to the street where the hockey house is located. “If we keep doing this, the oxytocin might confuse the facts, and we can’t get confused. I can’t.”
“I’m not confused by anything,” I reply, and I’m happy that despite her apparent emotional conflict she’s still walking down the path that leads to my front door. “What did you tell Daisy when you left?”
We climb the stairs to the porch. “I didn’t have to say much. She saw Hank and some other people she knew and wandered over to sit with them for a bit. Caroline was talking to the girls beside us, so I just said I saw someone from my accounting class I wanted to talk to and would be back later. As usual, no one really goes to these things for the crappy movies.”
“Goonis a cinematic masterpiece,” I reply with a straight face and I manage to get a fleeting grin from her. I slip the key in the door, my eyes scanning the yard and street as I turn it and push the door open. No one in sight so I slip my arm around her waist and pull her inside.
The door swings closed behind us and I turn so we’re toe-to-toe. She looks so…conflicted. It’s like throwing cold water on my libido. If she really doesn’t want to be here, I’m not going to throw myself at her. I shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. I’m wearing my hockey jersey. It was mandatory so everyone knew who was working the event. She reaches out and touches the shoulder of it, letting her hand trail down my arm. It feels like a goodbye, which weirds me out. I don’t like it. “What is going on with you?”
“Do you know Alisha Knowles?” Maggie says and it’s like skating across the ice on a breakaway and losing an edge. Unexpected and unwanted wipeout.
“Why?” I ask trying not to sound defensive.
“You know her? She’s in Food Science with Daisy,” Maggie says and crosses her arms.
“If she’s friends with Daisy then she’s told Daisy I know her,” I reply and flip on the light in the hall. The old seventies chandelier flickers and floods the space with yellow light. It’s harsh, but so is everything else suddenly. “Don’t ask around the question you have Maggie. Just ask.”
“You dated her?”
I frown but give her a sharp nod. “Yeah. And she probably slammed me to Daisy right? And Daisy couldn’t wait to tell you, and probably anyone else who would listen, because that’s what Todds do to Adlers.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute. Do not attack my sister,” Maggie says sharply and I start up the stairs. She follows, but out of anger not passion. Not what I was hoping when this night started. “And yeah this girl didn’t have positive stories about you, but that’s not her fault. If they’re true, that’s your fault.”
I stop on the landing to the first floor and she comes to a halt on the last stair. “Of course you don’t give me the benefit of the doubt, do you? That’s fine. For the record, Maggie, this thing between us is no strings attached. That’s how bed buddies work, so I don’t need to explain to you my dating history, and you don’t need to tell me yours.”
I start walking down the hall toward the next staircase, which leads up to my room and at first I don’t think she’s going to follow me, but then I hear her move.
“I don’t know how this works because you’re the first enemy I’ve had sex with,” Maggie blurts out as she stomps along beside me. “And clearly you don’t know how dating someone works if you stand them up after months of seeing each other and then pretend you don’t know who they are and humiliate them.”
Humiliation. She doesn’t know the half of it. I stop at the foot of the staircase and turn to face her slowly, trying to figure out how much of the flaming rancid mess that was my relationship with Alisha I should explain to Maggie. I’m infuriated that this has come up and I have to think and talk about it at all. “Are we going to have sex? Because if not, why are you here? You could be watching the movie and listening to more gossip about me.”
“Yeah. I should leave,” Maggie snaps and when I turn around she’s already making her way down the stairs.
I find myself following her. I want to stop her, but I also don’t want to stop her. Maybe this is what needs to happen. I would stop feeling so conflicted if we stopped having sex. Right? Then I realize maybe that’s what she wants. For me to walk away and she has controlled this whole situation from the start, so I’ll be damned if I let her control this too. So as she reaches for the door handle on the front door I speak. “What happened with Alisha wasn’t my finest moment.”
She freezes but doesn’t turn to face me. Staring straight ahead at the closed door, she sighs with disappointment. “So you did that? You just pretended you didn’t know who she was?”
Maggie’s tone has dropped from indignant to incredulous, which is almost comical. This girl didn’t think much of me before, and now she’s baffled that she can think even less of me.
“I did. And it was infantile and had I been in a better headspace, I probably would have handled it differently,” I say. “Do you want to hear my side of the story?”
She nods slowly and turns to finally face me.
“Then come upstairs.”
