“Because I want to take you somewhere.”
“The last time I went out with a boy as friends we went to the arcade,” I sigh.
“Were you twelve?”
“Eleven. That’s not the point.”
“What is the point, Mariah?”
The atmosphere shifts in the room, the question that’s been on my mind all weekend now spoken aloud. What is the point of all this? A good time assuredly, but can I make it just a good time?
How am I going to feel next week when he’s making plans with another girl or stops coming in for cupcakes? Pretty freaking shitty and that’s after sleeping with him one time.
Sex is great. Really, really great. But I can’t break my own heart—because it would be me doing it at this point—just to get off a few times.
“Lance,” I say, “this isn’t a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Turning the tables, I look at him. “You want to know why? Fine. This is why: there’s nothing good that can come out of this.”
“I thought you came just fine.”
I roll my eyes. “We can play word games all day but it doesn’t change reality. We are co-workers.”
“We’re both incredibly good-looking.”
Although I smile, I keep going. “We have a friendship of some sort that doesn’t seem to be impeded by our activities this weekend. Let’s keep it that way.”
“But why? Clearly we can play both sides of the coin and not impact the other. You’re just as argumentative and hard-headed today as you were on Friday.”
“And you’re just as infuriating and difficult, but that’s not what I’m talking about. We want different things, Lance.”
“You don’t want to come?” he grins.
“No. I mean, yes. Ugh.” I lock my jaw and stare at him. “I hate when you do this.”
He plants his hands on my desk. “If you say no, then no. I’ll not ask again.” His eyes darken with resolve. “I’ve struggled with this all night. As long as we’re clear that we’re just having fun, like what you were looking for on that app, then why not? We’re adults. We enjoy being together. Why can’t it just be that simple?”
Because it never is.
I breathe in his cologne, knowing exactly what the scruff of his face feels like against my belly, and consider telling him no. It can’t be that simple. It’s not that simple. In a month’s time I’ll look back and be so head-over-heels for him that I won’t be able see straight. Back-to-back broken hearts isn’t on my agenda.
The thing is, even though I know it’s best for my heart, I can’t do it. Being around him makes me feel alive. Strong. Smart. Sexy. I like who I am when I’m with him.
Before I can make a decision, there’s a knock at the door. Lance gives me a quick look, one that says this isn’t over, and opens the door. Ollie walks in, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized jeans.
“How are you?” I ask, getting situated behind my desk
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Ollie says.
Lance puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ms. Malarkey and I were just having a quick planning session.”
“About the lunch program?” he asks.
“Yup.” Lance looks at me and grins. “What can we do for you, Ollie?”
“I need some help and, um, I didn’t know who else to ask.”
The frivolity of the last few minutes is erased from Lance’s face. In its place is somberness and a compassion for this kid that reduces me to a puddle of goo.
“Sure, buddy,” Lance says. “What do you need?”
Ollie looks at the floor, shuffling his feet back and forth. “Well, I need to pass Family and Consumer Sciences. I missed a midterm test and Ms. Holden said I could do it if I could find someone to supervise me by Friday. She has a Beta thing and can’t do it and I didn’t know if maybe you could stay after school one day to help me out?”
The look on his face is downright pitiful. His hair, in desperate need of a cut, is flopped on his forehead. Eyes that could be full of joy are filled with an anxiety no high school student should know. My heart breaks for this kid.
“What’s the test?” Lance asks.
“I have to make a cake.” Ollie shrugs. “It’s that or a casserole but a cake seems easier.”
“Cakes are my thing,” I say, shoving my chair back. “Can I help?”
He looks at me like he’s just seeing me. “You want to help?”
“I mean, I could,” I offer, looking at Lance for relief.
Lance takes a cupcake and hands it to Ollie. “Here. Taste this. Homegirl here can outbake anyone.”
There’s no way not to beam at his compliment.
“Mrs. Holden said it had to be a teacher though,” he notes. “Are you a teacher, Ms. Malarkey?”
“Oh. No,” I reply. “I’m not.”
“Well, this guy is,” Lance says, wrapping an arm around Ollie’s shoulders. “And I’d love to watch you bake a cake. I have to monitor detention tomorrow, so I’ll move those rascals into the Family and Consumer Sciences room and we’ll whip up something to rival these cupcakes.”
The relief is evident. Ollie’s shoulders fall as he peels the paper away from the cupcake. “Mr. Gibson, that would be great.”
“No worries.” Lance is cut off by the bell sounding. “Now get to class and I’ll be down there in a second.”
“Bye, Ms. Malarkey. These are great, by the way,” Ollie says, motioning towards his half-eaten cupcake.
“Thank you, Ollie. Have a good day.”
He’s out the door as the library begins to fill with the sixth period study hall. Lance turns his back on the doorway but before he can speak, a freshman sticks his head in the door about a book rental.
By the time I get the student taken care of, Lance is gone.
I recover the cupcakes and get situated back at my desk. Fingers flexed, ready to type, I mentally remind myself: falling in love is the objective, but not with Lance Gibson.
Long game over short game. Marathon over sprint. Love over lust.
I think.
Twenty-Two
Mariah
The door to Carlson’s swings shut behind me as I step into the late afternoon sunshine. A take-out bag in my hand, I hit the sidewalk for the short walk home.
Lance was gone before I left work. It’s not altogether unusual, but I expected him to hang around to finish our conversation. When his car wasn’t in the spot next to mine and he didn’t jog up behind me, my spirits sank a little.
“How’d your day go?” Whitney asks.
“Fine,” I say, juggling the phone between my hands.
“I’ll try again. How’d your day go, Mariah?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “It was fine.”
“Did you see Lance?”
“Yes.”
“Stop it with the short sentences.” The line gets crackly as she sighs into it.
“Okay. Yes, I saw Lance. Yes, he was gorgeous today. Yes, he brought up the weekend and asked me to cancel my plans tonight and I told him I couldn’t.”
She snorts. “You don’t have plans tonight.”
“So?”
Stopping on the curb to let a car go by, Whitney reads me the riot act. She blabbers on about not knowing a good thing when I see it and how I can’t win at anything without taking some risks. She clamors on and on until I’m on the other side of the street.
“Will you quit it?” I ask, exasperated. “Taking risks means there’s a potential positive outcome to a situation. There’s not with this.”
“How do you know that? Have you asked him?”
“I know that because I know him, Whit.”
“Sounds like a load of bullshit to me.”
Switching hands with the phone and my take-out, I attempt to fortify myself for this conversation. “It’s not bullshit. I’m not judging him. I knew who he was well before I ever let my feelings get involved. I just need to keep a foot in reality over here.”
“Have you asked him what his reality is? He should get a say, don’t you think?”
“Of course he has a say and he’s made it very clear.” My heart drops at the thought. “I need to be just as clear about what I want and what’s real.”
“This is about Eric, isn’t it?”
I wish I could say it’s not. I wish I could say none of what I feel, none of what I worry about, comes from that place. When you’ve been hurt as badly as I have, the pain might go away but it leaves a scar behind to remind you not to repeat it.
“I’m not like you,” I remind her. “I get swept up in my feelings and fall in love way too easily. Hell, I was thinking Eric was going to ask me to marry him and he was screwing my sister.” I kick at a pebble on the sidewalk. “It’s too easy to forget what I know in general. But with Lance, he could wipe out my entire brain if I let him.”
“I still think you should see what happens. People have a way of changing what they want, Mariah.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” A horn blasts me from behind. I grit my teeth. “I gotta go, Whit. Call me later.”
“Ok. See ya.”
Spinning on my heel, ready to give someone the finger, I almost stumble over my own two feet. A car pulls up beside me, the driver’s side window down, and the most handsome face I’ve ever seen smiles at me from inside. “Hey, you,” Lance says.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, not quite believing my eyes.
“I told you to cancel your plans.” He stops the car next to me, shutting off the radio. “Considering you had no plans, I figured I was safe to pop by anytime.”
My heart leaps in my chest. I didn’t plan on seeing him tonight but now that he’s here, I love that he is. I can’t let him know that though. At least not readily.