Page 13 of Organized Chaos
The day turned out nothing like the one I had planned—strolling hungover while grumbling at my excessive drinking. Instead, I woke up sober, had breakfast in-suite with Maya, then grabbed my rental car to make a grocery run since Dad’s cottage was far too isolated for restaurants. All the while, an efficient Maya rebooked her flight.
Maya was a glitch in the road map. Dad’s ghost was punishing me with this girl; I was sure of it. Because this thing between us, it was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
We were to part ways on Tuesday, following the long weekend. It was already Saturday, leaving three more measly days with her.
By asking her to scatter these ashes with me, all I had done was prolong an inevitable goodbye. Yet, this overwhelming need for her had chased away my sensibility.
She is nothing but a reprieve from my guilt, I repeated in my head over and over as the car slogged up the hilly road.She is not even that pretty.
Unaware of the way she had turned my weekend upside down, Maya slumbered peacefully in my passenger seat. We stayed up all night and spent the day gallivanting between France and Italy. It was only two p.m. in the afternoon, but the sleeplessness had caught up. She was out like a light.
Hours, it seemed that I watched her, barely glancing at the empty road. Unable to fight back the urge, I traced my finger along her cheek, moving a few strands of hair out of the way for a better visual.
My pulse throbbed at the touch of her soft skin... God, this was frustrating.
She was in a blue-green summer dress with thin shoulder straps, long enough to reach past her ankles. It was no less striking than yesterday’s dress, but the attire wasn’t user-friendly.
Her teeth chattered even after I turned off the air conditioning. Girls were always cold. Did their minds live on a parallel hemisphere to convince their bodies of an imaginary temperature drop?
Maya curled up to her side into a small ball, arms tightly wrapped around her chest. The sight of her was vulnerable, like a kicked puppy in need of help. Blowing out a heavy breath, I reached back blindly, searching inside my duffel bag on the backseat. No hoodies turned up against my fingertips.
“Damnit,” I muttered to myself.
Grabbing a handful of clothes instead, I dumped the pile on her, unfolding them clumsily to drape her with a makeshift blanket. The goosebumps on her arms stood to attention, and I ran my palm over it, rubbing until her skin heated up.
Once more, I felt her soft, heated... I nearly lost my coordination when Maya stirred.
“Are we there yet?”
I smirked. “Almost.”
“What are you smiling at?” She yawned, stretching like a cat.
“You.” I grinned ear to ear. “You sound like an impatient child.”
“I’m not a child,” Maya mumbled under her breath, sounding cross. She didn’t recognize the compliment hidden behind my smile.
Last night, Maya’s feral mind left me stunned as she explained Quantum Mechanics or spoke of civil unrest in Myanmar. I was in awe of her vivid optimism when she discussed her relationship with God.
Very rarely did she let her guard down throughout the night. But whenever I took a jab at her, she revealed snippets of a carefree personality, eyes sparkling lively. Her serious side was conjoined with goofy, spirited characteristics.
While the intellectual debates were thought-provoking, the instances she acted without restraint were my favorite. Her child-like persona had my head barely floating above water.
Ironic. The person to detest all child-like traits was now fumbling like a fool over the heartwarming effects of innocence. No, I wasn’t referring to her intact hymen, but the way she eagerly hoped for the best, with enthusiasm and optimism.
It was so damn sweet.
The accolade was lost on a groggy Maya, sorting through the heaps of clothes covering her. “What’s all this?”
“I thought you’d look nice in my clothing.” I shrugged, hiding my amusement.
Maya rifled through the fabric, holding a shirt up by one edge. “Aww, you didn’t want me to get cold.” She didn’t miss much, did she? “That’s so cute,” she teased as I deflected.
“It’s cute that I covered you with my dirty laundry? Not even the high-ticket items; those are generic brands—buy two, get two for free at Walmart. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”
“I’m not reading too much into it. You are obviously head over heels in love with me.”
I bit down on a sardonic smile.
