Page 42 of Falling Backwards
Lifting clenched fists, I whisper emphatically, “It’s not a very important rule!”
“It’s still something we’re supposed to respect!When we’re on the clock, we’re supposed to tend to our responsibilities, not check Facebook or—”
“I don’t have a Facebook account.I hate the fact that they—”
“Okay,cool, I don’t have one either, but that’s not the point I’m trying—”
“Look, I’m so aware of what your point is,it feels like a pencil going through my eye.”
Silence falls while she stares at me, appalled.
I stare back in total seriousness.
“I’m notthatbad,” she defends herself.
“You annoy the hell out of me,” I inform her.
“Something else we have in common, then,” she snaps now.
That has amusement flaring to life in me.“What?You annoy the hell out of yourself?Is that what you just said?”
The heavy drop of her shoulders pulls her body into a familiar stance, and she fixes a flat look on me.
Oh, good God.
I can’t help flicking an absorbing look over her, temporarily less concerned with what we were talking about.Icannothelp it.
Those eyes show me the shift in her mood: she’s done with our whole conversation.
She starts walking to finally go about her own business, and she says sarcastically, “Have fun being a rule-breaker.”
“Ah, that isnotthe insult you think it is.”As I resume going on my way, too, I know I could check the clock on the wall for the time, but instead I pull my phone from my pocket and wave it over my shoulder, just in case she’s looking.“By the way, I’m late getting back to the bar because you insisted on being the employee handbook police.Who’s the irresponsible one now?”
My ears pick up on a scoff and the sputters of her trying to formulate a retort, but I’m out of the room before she lands on one.
Shortly, I wonder if the air out here in the rest of Lucent is actually cooler than in the breakroom or if arguing with Maggie just gets methatheated.
Either way, it’s a plain fact that no one else I’ve ever met has been able to make me feel the way she makes me feel.No one else gets under my skin the way she does.
But it brings me a peculiar sense of comfort to know she’s burdened by the same thing with me.
M A G G I E
Mere moments after walking out of Lucent’s entrance, I’m hugging myself against the chill of the night.The glowing lights along the top of the building are a pretty sort of guide towards the employee lot; they’re as elegant and warm as the restaurant’s interior.I gaze appreciatively at them for a moment before watching where I’m going.
Freaking Luke.
Scowling, I shake my head.I’ve tried not to linger on our cell phone argument from earlier, but he’s just so…whatever he is.Nothing bothers him and I don’t know how.
Well, I guessIbother him, but—
I gasp at the sudden smack of a moth against my face.I bat at it and wave it away, catching some of my hair in the process, quickening my pace around the end of the building with the hope of outrunning the insect.
Then, as I keep following the sidewalk towards where I parked, I puff out a breath.I swipe my mussed hair back from my face and wonderwhyI’m trying to outrun a moth.It’s not like it would sting me or—
“Hey, Maggie, wait up,” comes a guy’s voice.
Now slowing my steps, I turn a curious look behind me.
