Page 62 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
A small gasp escaped her.
How?
Because no teenager types in full sentences, with punctuation.
She laughed softly.
Busted. I was sitting here alone in the dark and your message came up.
Another long pause. Her heart was starting to beat hard.
Why are you alone in the dark?
And then, before she could start replying:
I thought tonight was your big date.
Nothing big about it.
And then:
I wish I hadn’t gone.
It felt like a confession.
That bad, huh? I’ve been on a few of those.
He was keeping it light, Maggie realized, and so should she. They were just friends, after all.
I could have watched three whole episodes of Is It Cake? instead. Talk about a missed opportunity.
Another pause, this one longer than ever. Maggie held her breath. Then he replied:
If we’re going to talk about missed opportunities…
Her breath came out in a rush. She waited. There was nothing more. An entire minute passed, each tick of a second on the clock on the wall seeming to echo through the kitchen and right through her. Which one of them was willing to risk first? Say what they really felt?
Are we?
Maggie finally typed, like a dare.
Still no reply. She got up from her chair and went to put on the kettle. Made herself a cup of tea and let it steep for three whole minutes while Penny wound around her ankles. Still nothing from the Zachanator. A sense of disappointment so deep it felt like grief swept through her. He was going to leave it there, and so then would she. She didn’t really have any choice, did she?
Taking her tea, Maggie sat down in front of the computer. She stared at the message inbox, willing the words to appear.I miss you. I want to be with you. I’m sorry for what I said before. Let’s start over.
Was he thinking any of those things? Did he want to say them to her? Or maybe he’d moved on, and had gone back to playing RQ, their messages back and forth forgotten.
The only way she was going to read those words on the screen, Maggie realized with a lurch of panic as well as a surge of conviction, was if she typed them herself. And why shouldn’t she? Surely risking and losing was better than sitting here alone in the dark, wishing she’d said something. Hadn’t she told Laurie as much? There was no point in trying to keep yourself safe just so you’d have to learn to live with the regret. You got hurt anyway.
Maggie took a sip of tea to fortify herself, and then she started typing.
* * *
Maybe he was being really stupid, but Zachfeltlike being stupid, or at least being bold. When he’d been typing to Maggie, he’d realized he hadn’t wanted to have this kind of conversation by text. Some things were too important to skirt around. And while he’d certainly been burned by rushing in too fast before, this didn’t feel fast anymore. It felt right… and necessary. He would tell her once and for all how he felt and if she backed away again, well then, fine. It would be over. But at least then he would know.
He parked his truck behind her car, climbed out, and headed to Your Turn Next. He raised his hand to knock but then, after a second’s pause, he unlocked the door of the boardgame café instead. Maggie had given him a spare key months ago, when he’d first started working on the bookshelves. He’d meant to give it back, but he never had. Now he walked quietly through the café that they’d built together and then up the stairs. Then he knocked on the door to Maggie and Ben’s apartment.
He heard her little yelp of surprise and smiled.
