Page 22 of All Along

“I made your favorite,” she sings. “Irish beef stew usingFive Fathoms Brewing Depth Charge Stout.”

My mouth waters. I love Irish beef stew. And I bet it’s even better using the stout beer from her brewery. TheFive Fathomsbeers are awesome. The last time I met my parents in Germany for the holidays I made them bring me a bunch of it.

I nearly reach for the door but I fist my hand when I remember. I can’t be a good friend to Maya. She deserves better than a broken man who’s a failure.

“I’m not opening the door, Maya.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince – me or her?

“You can’t out stubborn me, Caleb Emerson.”

“Pretty sure I can, Maya Jenkins.”

“Ha! Remember the time the principal pitted us against each other? He was determined to find out who stole the Rogue’s Landing’s mascot. For some reason, he thought I might have had something to do with the missing raccoon.”

“Because you did, Maya.”

She ignores me to continue her story. “She sat us in his office and told us we couldn’t move until one of us confessed. It wasn’t me who confessed.”

I growl. “I told her what I knew because you were squirming in your chair. I was afraid you were going to pee your pants.”

She gasps. “I would never.”

“Which is why you ran to the girl’s restroom faster than lightning the second I confessed.”

“Oh please. If I could run faster than lightning, I would have been on the track team. But they wouldn’t even let me try out for the team. I believe their words were, ‘you’re not fast enough to carry ourwater for us’.”

“Those kids were assholes.”

“Totally. I appreciate you stealing all of their shoes so they couldn’t compete in their first track meet.”

“I didn’t steal their shoes.” I totally did. They deserved it. They knew Maya was under my protection but they didn’t heed my warnings. I showed them what happens when they ignore me.

“Sure, you didn’t. And you didn’t…”

Her voice trails off. “Didn’t what?”

“We have company.”

Company? I didn’t hear anyone drive down the road. I hurry to the living room window. My parents are climbing out of their minivan.

They promised they wouldn’t come here anymore. They said they’d give me time. I guess my time is up. Crap.

“Hi, Mrs. Emerson.” Maya greets Mom with a hug.

“Son, are you in there?” Dad shouts.

I can’t exactly ignore my parents and pretend I’m not home when Maya’s standing on the porch, obviously talking to me. Mom will lose her mind. She did her best to teach me how to be a gentleman.

I open the door and Maya forces her way past me. She saunters to the kitchen and places her basket on the counter as if she belongs here.

“A picnic basket?” Mom claps her hands. “How romantic.”

Maya’s eyes widen and her cheeks darken.

“We’re not—”

I don’t get a chance to finish. “I’m glad you have someone to help you around while you’re injured.”

I scowl at Mom. Maya isn’t supposed to know how injured I am. To Maya’s credit, she doesn’t flinch or act surprised.

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