The Girl with the I.V

Chapter 17: The girls from the street and The confession on 33rd street.

Lyra

Standing right there in front of me is Maverick Oliver.

Maverick Oliver.

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls into it.

He just stared right back at me, yet I could tell from the tension in his body that one word from me would send him running. So I just stared right back at him. I really don't want to do this right now. I'm tired of crying. I'm not a 16-year-old anymore. It's time I move on.

So I did. I wiped my face and let my hoodie fall off and I brushed the hair out of my hair. After I looked presentable, I stood up, straightened my back, and walked right past him, leaving him standing there with his mouth ajar.

I didn't care anymore. It's pointless to argue with him. He wouldn't care anyway.

He's not the one I want to make up with.

But before I could get to the door a hand caught my wrist. I remember how this goes.

I looked back at him, his eyes wide. He's probably more surprised that he grabbed me than I am.

He just opened and closed his mouth like he was searching for words. I just tilted my head and ripped my arm away from him. I fixed my hoodie once again and strode away.

I could have sworn I heard a mumbled, "I'm sorry."

****

Maverick

She just walked away. No argument, no glares, no I-hate-you-annoying-rich-stupid-boy.

I grabbed her arm. I grabbed her. What was I thinking?! I just acted on instinct. I don't know what I'm doing right now, sitting next to Emily and holding her hand while staring at Lyra, a few rows ahead of us, sitting with her friend, I presume.

But most of all, I don't understand why she was crying. Alone.

My mind flew to one reason: Spencer.

I must have clenched my hand on Emily's because she gasped with pain.

I quickly apologized, kissing her hand over and over. "Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind. With work and all."

She nodded, but looked at me suspiciously. "You sure?"

I assured her I was, but my eyes kept flicking to Lyra, chewing on a twizzler.

Why was she crying?

****

Lyra

It was 9 a.m.

I stood just outside the cafe, staring at the door. I couldn't seem to move my feet. I don't know what I'm going to say or if he actually has a reason for what he said.

All I knew was I wasn't going to get answers to any of those questions unless I go in.

Go in...

I clutched my purse, sighing. Then a girl next to me sighed.  I looked over and she smiled at me. I smiled awkwardly back, confused. She must have read my face cause she laughed, "Sorry, I don't mean to be creepy. Just thinking about getting a coffee inside but it seems you're contemplating wether it's better to die than go in. Can I help with anything?"

I finally got a good look at the woman and her friend who just appeared out of nowhere.

The friend smiled and pointed to the woman I was speaking with and said, "This is Coco. Very nosy if I do say so myself."