Page 28 of Falling Backwards (The Edge of Us #1)

MAGGIE

“You need a nap, my love,”

Joy’s voice floats around me.

I’ve stopped walking in the middle of this cosmetics aisle at the grocery store so I can close my eyes and yawn for the fiftieth time since she picked me up from work.

She went to my annual female appointment with me and is now accompanying me to pick up my birth control refill. I have to admit I wish Luke were here—I haven’t seen him today—but he’s still at work himself since it’s Friday afternoon. Besides, would he have been on Joy’s level of comfort while hanging out in the waiting room at the gynecologist?

Well, actually, I think he’d do okay. Months-ago me would have labeled him too immature, but now I don’t believe he’s the type of guy to get weirded out by female stuff.

I shuffle up to where Joy is inspecting some lipstick. I try to look along with her, but the light bouncing off all the plastic tubes just makes me blink slowly…which somehow makes me yawn again.

Gosh, I really would like a bit of sleep.

Yesterday’s quick-paced walk at the park was a good experience, but since it was faster than I’ve ever walked for so long—nearly half an hour—my legs felt it in a different way from how they feel my HIIT workouts. Then of course I had to be on my feet at work, and the hours seemed long, and since Luke and I both closed again, we randomly decided we wanted to go eat at IHOP. And after spending that time dining in, we also talked on the phone again later; we discussed weekend plans and where to start with helping people in need and a ton of little things that didn’t matter much but still entertained us. It was close to two in the morning when we got off the call.

After I got up today, Joy took me to work the opening shift at Lucent, and someone in the largest lunch reservation had a kid who kept wandering out of the dining area and up to my stand. The boy wasn’t a toddler, but he was still too young to be left unattended, and Ronald did a poor job of making the parent keep tabs on him, so I found myself watching him instead. In between handling my various work responsibilities, I colored on a kid’s menu with him, looked on as he wrote out his own menu for an imaginary restaurant, and listened to his stories from the private school he attends.

Even though I liked the boy fine, it was a lot for me to keep up with. I’ve never done much babysitting, and I’ve certainly never done it while also trying to work. Never felt like I had to keep a kid entertained so he or she wouldn’t run off and cause mayhem elsewhere. And because of the kind of person I am, I’d often try to talk but get drowned out by whatever he’d start saying next, and I was constantly worried he would somehow cause damage to my stand or the restaurant before I could stop him—which only made my frustration with Doormat Ronald greater, because it wasn’t my place to confront the kid’s parent, but it was his.

Then I had the doctor’s appointment, which always involves waiting for longer than it takes to get checked, which is boring. The weather is getting cold again, which makes me want to bundle up, which makes me think of being in bed or on the couch with a blanket. And none of that helps the whole I’d-like-to-doze-off thing.

“Are you and Luke coming out tonight?”

Joy asks.

“Have you decided?”

I blink my way through remembering what she’s talking about: she, Emma, Paxton, and a coworker of his are going to dinner and then to hang out at Paxton’s place. The guy he works with is allegedly someone Joy might like, and she’s excited to meet him since her blind date went so sideways.

To be honest, my current mood says a night out with a group sounds tiring, but Luke and I did already decide we’ll tag along. After being so nervous about Kyle, it sounds nice to go out with friends again.

I tell Joy.

“Yeah, we decided we’re gonna go.”

She gasps happily.

“Yay! Ooh, girl, we’ve gotta get dressed up! Date night!”

I chuckle lazily while she starts perusing glittery eyeliner.

“I mean,”

she goes on.

“obviously Emma and Paxton aren’t a couple ’cause she doesn’t do relationships—”

she sends me a sad slant of her mouth.

“—and his colleague and I aren’t actually gonna be on a date ’cause I am never going in blind again. But you and Luke will be on one! Kind of, right? Or is it only a date if it’s either just the couple or an official group date?”

Chuckling more, I shrug.

“I don’t know, Joyful.”

But I…well, I like the idea of it being a date.

Luke and I didn’t label it when we talked about it, though.

“How are things with him?”

she asks more quietly.

I open my mouth to answer, then close it again.

Even I don’t understand how I feel about Luke anymore. What if Joy doesn’t get it either and thinks I’m crazy or weak or stupid or…?

But no—that’s not her. That’s not even Emma, all her resentment about Graham and love aside. My friends have my back. It’s always been true, and it always will be. I can talk to them about anything.

I’ve always been able to talk to them about Luke.

So I speak honestly.

“Things with him are easy…and twisted up at the same time. It’s always somewhere in my mind that we hurt each other back in the day and we haven’t been on good terms and so we aren’t okay—sometimes it’s what I’m actively thinking about and sometimes it’s just something I know—but…”

I frown at Joy, then at the floor.

“…but somehow, we get along.”

I pause.

“We get along well.”

I lift a suddenly shaky hand to my suddenly heating face.

“We—we get along really well. Surprisingly so. And it’s really—it’s confusing. Sometimes.”

More often the more time we spend together, because I can’t seem to keep a hold on what he is and isn’t supposed to mean to me.

Joy makes a soft noise of understanding. When I look at her again, she’s wearing a smile that is also soft.

“I see,”

she murmurs.

Swallowing hard, I look away again.

“That’s gotta be tough, Maggie. Remembering what happened but living in what’s happening.”

I nod.

We’re quiet for a few moments.

Then she sighs.

“Well, wow, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I lift my shoulders.

“I mean, I know it’s not real. I know we’re faking. But sometimes it’s….”

I chew on my bottom lip, then shake my head.

No, that’s stupid to even think, my resentment bites. It won’t be like this forever. It only seems sincere because he’s good at pretending. Half of him is pretending and the other half is untrustworthy, just like before. He let you down once and he’ll do it again, whether by design or because he just can’t help it.

As soon as I think that, though, something in me fights it.

Again.

Suddenly overwhelmed, I frown again, shake my head again, look at Joy again.

Then I blurt it out.

“Do you believe it’s possible he didn’t pretend about everything the first time? Could it have felt like he cared about me because he really did?”

She tilts her head and rubs at one of my arms.

“Sure, I believe that’s possible. Do you?”

While I look at her, my long-held belief that he was nothing but a jerk in disguise clashes with my stirring hope that he was something more—and all the proof I’ve been seeing that he is.

I whisper.

“I kind of think I do.”

“Mmm. Well, guess who knows what he did and didn’t feel back then.”

My shoulders slump now.

Joy gives me a cute wink.

“Luke knows,” I mumble.

“Yep. You could ask him about it.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Pff. I know your dating rules say whatever they say, but—”

“It’s scary,”

I blow out on a breath.

Her eyebrows lift gently, curiously.

“That rule is there for a reason. If I bring up how much he hurt me, I’m scared it’ll lead to an argument about what I did back to him, and that’ll crack us apart all over again and—and then we’ll have set ourselves back and we’ll lose all these amazing things we’ve been sharing lately, and he’ll stop wanting to help me, so I’ll be scared in a whole new way, and everything will just be….”

As I gesture weakly, I press my lips together and blink at the sting trying to build in my eyes.

Joy gives a slow nod.

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s scary.”

I nod too.

“‘Amazing things’ you’ve been sharing,”

she murmurs. “Gosh.”

I know how shocking that is but don’t know what else to say about it.

We go quiet again, both of us contemplating.

“Well,”

she says at length.

“you’re the one who can sense what’s best for you. Like Em and I said when this started, we trust what you think is the right thing to do when it comes to him. If you don’t feel like bringing up the past is gonna help anything, then okay.”

She smiles encouragingly.

“But hey, maybe the time for it will present itself later on. Maybe after Kyle is out of the picture?”

“Maybe,” I murmur.

Or maybe we can avoid talking about it forever. That’s what we’ve done since I started working at Lucent. Maybe instead of being on each other’s nerves in the Now Times, we can be happy in them, and the Old Times can just stay where they are: behind us.

What an idea—as compelling as it is weak.

Oh, my tired brain. What am I even doing trying to think about significant things when I’m so tired?

As if on cue, Joy perks up.

“Oh, hey, I think we can go check on your prescription again! Seems like we’ve been waiting as long as they said to.”

I agree, so I give her my best smile.

“Okay. Thanks for listening to my boy problems.”

“Of course! I’m sorry it’s tricky.”

She blows a raspberry.

“Freaking boys, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

And freaking girls who retaliate against the boys and double the damage done.

She links her arm with mine and starts us back towards the pharmacy. I let her bubbliness carry me along while I think about her failed blind date.

The guy’s name was Afton, it turned out. He was allegedly so handsome in Joy’s eyes that she thought she had fallen in love at the sight of him; he didn’t have the usual vibe or even the usual style of guys she goes for, but at first she thought it was nice. I remember her saying, ‘He was all blond and composed-looking and sweater-over-a-button-down and, ugh, have khakis ever fit someone so damn well? For some reason, it just worked for me.’

But she was reminded not five minutes later that love at first sight doesn’t exist. They quickly rubbed each other the wrong way. She said he had no chill, no sense of humor, and very little patience. Said that when she complimented him on looking so great, he grumbled out his thanks and studied her like he was hunting for something nice to say, then finally said her pink hair was ‘interesting.’ According to Joy, it didn’t sound like he meant it as a good thing.

Some of her reports about him were hard not to giggle at, honestly. Like how she seemed to offend his very soul with her style and her chatter about the rainy raccoons she saw on the way to the restaurant and how sad she thinks the disappearing-cotton-candy videos are. But I knew how much Afton frustrated her, and there really wasn’t anything funny about that. She said he looked at her like she was insane or something, particularly about the raccoons, and he never lightened up or even fake-laughed. He just asked stiff questions and answered stiffly when she asked him anything.

Indeed, it wasn’t long before that got on her nerves. She finally said something about his attitude, and he said she was wearing him out. She said she was trying to be friendly because they were on a date, and he asked if she could try being toned down instead because he got a little bit more of a headache every time she got excited about things like how much she loved the dressing on her salad.

My poor sweet friend.

She’s a bright light of a person, and I guess it’s not for everyone. There’s nothing really wrong with that, but still. It bothered her a lot that she and Afton clashed as much as they did, so my heart goes out to her.

But it’s just as well, I know. She’ll find her person someday, and they’ll appreciate the light about her so much that they won’t be able to live without it.

She was right about my prescription: we get it picked up without any more waiting. Then we’re free to finally head back home. On our way away from the pharmacy, Joy gasps and stops at an endcap to look at a festive Thanksgiving headband. It has glittery autumn leaves springing up from it and a couple of tiny, adorable turkeys tucked in among them. It’s very her, we decide, and she needs it. And I decide we need to go to the candy aisle before we check out because I need some gummy worms.

Remembering sharing Luke’s yesterday has me smiling happily to myself. That was really fun—and really adorable of him to allow again. I also felt adorable using the empty bag for drawing slips of paper to decide where to start our helpful work; our local homeless shelter won.

The hug he wrapped me up in, though…there was nothing adorable about that. There was everything warm and satisfying and moving about it.

I could’ve stayed there, in his arms and with him in mine, for so much longer.

I loved how strong he was around me. His embrace was so solid and good-smelling and heartfelt.

It was real.

Yes, a little while ago, I told Joy the way he’s been acting isn’t real because he’s been acting—just pretending to be my boyfriend—but…honestly, I don’t think that’s right. How could it be? Some things between us haven’t happened for anyone else to see. Like him earnestly telling me how beautiful he thinks I am even though I didn’t look anywhere close to my best, and him calling me just to hear my voice one more time, and him not minding that I still love the way he laughs because he still loves that about me too.

And him hugging me within moments of me opening my front door, not uttering a word, not seeming the least bit hesitant even after all these years.

I still get chill bumps from how it felt for his breaths to drift through my hair and over my ear, my jaw, my neck while he held me like….

Like he didn’t wanna let go.

I feel that welcome tension all over again too.

God, I must be out of my mind for hoping so much that I’ll get to experience it anew later.

Must be out of my mind for entertaining all these soft thoughts I keep having.

But I can’t seem to stop myself.

—

I flop down onto the couch, leg muscles aching and pulse racing thanks to the cardio video I just followed along with.

When Joy and I got home, the idea of working out made me grouchy because all I wanted to do was nap. I didn’t procrastinate too much: I made a call to the homeless shelter to find out what kinds of donations they need, and then I moved my butt because it was important to me that I didn’t bail on myself.

I’ve learned that when I’m in a bad mood about exercising, sometimes what helps is getting dressed for it and turning the video on anyway. Then I remind myself that I don’t have to go all-out—I can do the easiest level of work and it’ll still be better than no work at all. Before I know it, I’m getting started, and by the end of my time, I’ve usually warmed up into challenging myself instead of sticking with the minimum.

That’s what I did just now, hence why my legs feel like jelly. I didn’t do the pop-squats and alternating jumpy lunges in full during the first two rounds, but I really tried on the second two.

On one hand, I wonder why anyone puts themselves through things like this, but on the other hand, I’m proud of myself for not giving up even though it’s hard.

I’m sipping water and still trying to catch my breath when I hear the sound of locks turning, then of the front door opening.

“Babes,”

Emma calls.

“I hope you’re both as ready for Italian food and cute guys as I am!”

I raise one tired arm. From where she’s been fixing her makeup in the bathroom, I hear Joy chirp, “I am!”

I check the time and realize I need to start getting ready to go too. The three of us are meeting all the guys at the restaurant in less than an hour.

In my room, I peruse the clothes in my closet. I’m hoping to find something that’s pretty but that won’t make me feel self-conscious…and while I do that, I also catch myself wondering more than once if I really have anything to feel self-conscious about.

I’ve been working on being in better shape, and that has done something good for me mentally even if it’s too early to have done anything physically. But I know a certain someone thinks I already look beautiful. Just the way I am.

Not that other people’s opinions should dictate how I feel about myself. That shouldn’t be true for anyone. Still, Luke’s opinion of me is…well, it’s….

With a sigh, I remember being moved to tears over what he said to me the other night in the hallway.

There’s something warm about knowing how highly he thinks of me when I don’t think highly of myself. Something kind of…strengthening.

I blink at my closet a few times, then decide not to let that self-consciousness rule me too much after all.

Not tonight, anyway.