Page 215 of Falling Backwards
Then I hear him manage to say, “Honestly, I—I didn’t think so.”
Briefly, I remember my grayer thoughts from before he called; the way this conversation is already going carries me farther away from them.
I’m not with him in his bed right now, not in the warmth of his arms, not kissing him, but I still want to get lost in him—in the Luke I havetoday.And he makes that as easy to do now as when weweretogether in person, in those other moments.
So once again, I tune everything else out and just live right where I am.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
L U K E
I don’t know where the time is going, but it’s sweeping along and taking Maggie and me with it.
Well, technically I do know where it’s going: into the Christmas season.Merry and bright holiday vibes have been popping up since before Thanksgiving, as has somehow become tradition, and by the time we’re a few days into December, all of it is in full swing.Places around town are decorated and playing Christmas music and boasting sales and offering holiday treats—the whole thing.
I like this season well enough, but I gotta admit that when Maggie and I hurry into the sporting goods store from the cold late morning and immediately hear a too-loud song overhead, I can’t help rolling my eyes.The belting voice zigzags over a crazy number of notes (or whatever they’re called) and the jolly tune rings in my ears so much it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.What’s worse is I know this is not the last time an establishment will be playing Christmas music at such an unnecessarily high volume because we’re barely into December; there areweeksleft of this.
“You know,” Maggie says, “I love‘You’re a Mean One, Mr.Grinch,’but I never hear that getting played at Christmastime.”
That has me turning a quizzical look on her not because I disagree but because she’s right.“Holy crap, you make a good point.That song is a classic in its own right and yet I don’t think I’ve ever heard it in any stores.”
Her expression mirrors mine.“Exactly, a classic.Why does it get left out?”
“I have no idea, but now I wanna watch….”
My sentence trails off asshetrails to a super slow pace, her gaze now hung on a mannequin we’re about to walk past.I slow, too, and follow her eyes and see she’s looking at the shirt that’s been paired with some rather plain leggings: it’s a loose thing that bares the midsection and hangs off one shoulder, made of black fabric sheer enough to show off the sports bra underneath.
Oh, Maggie would lookdopein that thing.I glance back and forth between it and her.
She inhales slowly; I can see the clear interest in her eyes.
Then she looks away from the mannequin and picks up her pace again.She keeps walking towards wherever we’ve been going—ah, to the dumbbells.I forgot we’re here to buy some of those.
“Yeah, talking about that song makes me wanna watch the Grinch movie too,” she says.“Is that what you were gonna say?”
I catch up with her easily.“Sure was.Hey, you wanna check out that shirt?Like, go try it on?”
“It’s really cool,” she says.
“Big agree.You should—”
But she’s shaking her head and waving a dismissive hand.“There’s no point.A crop top wouldn’t suit me.”
This time, my quizzical lookisof the,‘What are you talking about?’variety.
Her gaze flickers to me and she shakes her head again, though her lips curve into a tiny smile.“That shirt looks great on the mannequin girl, and I am not the mannequin girl’s size.”
“So?You think only super slim people can wear—” I gesture behind us and recall what she called it, “—a crop top?”
Expression faltering, she says, “Well—well, no.Of course I….People should wear whatever they like.I support that.They don’t have to be skinny to be beautiful or stylish.But that’s not—I mean, when it comes to me specifically, I don’t think it’s….”
Now she looks unhappy.She wraps her arms around her stomach.
“Just trust me, Luke.”
