Page 2 of Falling Backwards
Even potentially having to see Luke again today can’t get in the way of how much I love my friends.
Beneath my bangs, a faint itch stirs in the rough old scar that slants through my left eyebrow.
‘It doesn’t make you ugly,’skips through my mind, an echo of a once-kind voice that went well with once-soft blue eyes.
I tangle my fingers together in my lap.
Sometimes I still find myself tracing that scar, more than merely remembering tidbits of my very first conversation with Luke.But I traced it most often after that nice junior-year beginning of ours took a nosedive; it was something of a habit I fell into after the thought of him started hurting like hell.
These days, there’s more annoyance between us than anything else, so I’m better about ignoring the urge to touch the place I was onlynotself-conscious of for that short time when I was sixteen.When I was made to feel like it and the scar farther down on my neck weren’t as horrible as I believed by a boy whose interest I never dreamed I’d gain.
Decide not to go to the bar tonight,I silently will him.
Maybe he really won’t go.Maybe thereisa chance of that.We don’t see him and Paxton thereeverytime we go.It’s true that he wouldn’t hang out at another bar, but he may have chosen to relax from today’s chaotic work hours at home.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the gentle movement of the car coming to a stop.
Nice.Cautious driving is extremely important to me.Emma was right a minute ago when she said our driver has been a good one to ride around with.Among other things, I appreciate him not being hard on his brakes and throwing us against the straps of our seatbelts just now; the same could not be said for a lady we rode with a week or two ago.
Although I didn’t do much listening to his chat with Joy after all, I do hear him apologizing again for assuming we’ll all be mothers someday.
Emma says, “Live and learn.Thanks.”Then she gets out of the car.
Joy adds, “Yeah, it’s okay!Thank you so much for your kindnesses!We hope you have a great night!”
A quick scan around tells me nothing is being left behind here in the back seat.I also inspect Joy while she climbs out into the orange glow of the streetlight, careful not to bump the white silk flower barrettes tucked into her messy pink curls; I see her purse on her shoulder and her phone in her hand.
We’re good to go.
“Thank you,” I tell the driver myself.
Briefly, he looks unsure of whether I’m going to mention the motherhood thing.When I don’t, he just smiles and says, “Thankyou.”
I give him a little smile, too, and hurry along.
Momentarily, my friends and I are approaching the inviting wooden double doors that stand between us and what will hopefully be a relaxing night.
“Woo!”Joy whoops.She half-turns back to me and pats at her barrettes.“How are my pretties, Maggie?”
“Pretty,” I confirm.
“Yay!And that sweater looks super cute on you, and Em looks stylishly badass in her jacket!”
We chuckle at her enthusiasm.Emma’s jacket is a short black leather one and she does look awesome in it.I love my chunky dark green sweater; it’s a pretty color, and I’ve felt most comfortable in shape-concealing clothing for a while now.And, of course, Joy is a sweet sight in one of her many dresses—a gray wool one, currently.
Once we’re through the doors and enveloped in the warmth of the front area, I turn my attention to pulling out my phone so I can tip the Uber driver.The other girls are better at claiming tables for us than I am.
But mere moments after we enter the large main room, even with my focus on the app, I’m touched by the sense that there’s a pair of eyes watching me.
I blow a raspberry, only glancing up to ensure I’m still following my friends.
Merritt’s has a few different types of seating options, and they kind of ripple outwards from where the bar itself commands the center of the room: there are the usual stools, then tall tables spread out from those, then four-seater booths along the walls and even bigger rounded ones in the corners.Tonight we end up in a wall booth, which is exactly what I’d hoped for; me working as a hostess at a popular classy restaurant in town means that sitting in one of these cushioned seats instantly feels good after the day I had on my feet.
Soon, with our Uber business taken care of, our butts comfortable, and our drinks ordered, we’re ready to kick back.
Joy announces, “It is snack o’clock!”She reaches for the skinny menu book on the table.We didn’t need to consult it for our beverages, but there are so many good bar food choices in there that we usually spend a minute perusing.
“Hmm,” Emma muses from beside her.“I want something cheesy.”
