Maggie - Invisible strings
A comfortable silence settled between us while we worked in my classroom that afternoon. He was still looking over maps and documents from the admin team, while I tried to organize art supplies for the first few projects.
Our conversation from earlier kept playing back in my head. What he said about his brother Conor, the way he said, He did good for himself, echoed in my brain. For some reason, I could detect almost a little bittersweetness there. Did he think he didn’t do good for himself?
The tray of paint cans I was trying to place on a high shelf wobbled in my hands, snapping my mind back to the present. I spent the last hour doling out the larger paint bottles into thirty tiny containers for my elementary kids. Now I was trying to hide the larger bottles where only I could get to them– the problem? I could barely reach this top shelf myself.
I pushed a little higher on my tip-toes and the paint cans threatened to topple over, which was probably fine, they were probably all closed well enough… I hoped.
“Ben?” I asked, straining my arms while balanced on my tiptoes. How did I always get myself in these predicaments? I hated asking for his help again, but he was the only one here “Can you uh… can you help?”
“Yeah, one second,” he mumbled, clearly still studying those emergency plans.
Unfortunately, a lot can happen in a single second.
“Can you come now-ow–”
The paints fell to the ground with a loud clash. The red bottle hit my shoulder and rolled to the ground. The black bottle fell a foot away from me. The royal blue bottle smacked my head hard and broke open, drenching me in a thick, cold, oozy, blue bath.
The freezing cold blue goop dripped all around me, completely soaking me. It was in my hair, my eyes, all over my clothes, all over the floor.
I stood stock still. Shocked as the silence settled around me.
And then his deep laugh filled the air.
I wiped away the paint from my eyes and glared at him.
He just laughed harder. He held a fist in front of his mouth, his other hand held his hard stomach as he crunched forward.
“It’s not funny” was all I could muster, because the paint was entering my mouth. I stood there, sopping wet, shivering from the cold paint.
“I’ve been with you for what? Like, a day? And you know what I think? You’re jinxed. Wait,” he snapped his fingers, “that’s a good code name for you, isn’t it?” A bright grin flashed on his face, making his damn dimple pop out, but he could’ve just speared me through the heart with his words.
“No.”
“Yes. Jinx is your new code name, every subject gets one. It’s perfect for you.”
I stared at the blue mess on my classroom floor. “Yeah, well, I don’t like it. I am not jinxed,” I said, lifting my chin. “I am… I’m charmed,” I said it like a daily affirmation, like I was trying to believe it.
“Charmed? You?” He laughed and my shoulders fell. “Maybe semi-charmed, Jinx.”
He was looking for me to tease him back, to fight back, but I wasn’t in the mood. That stupid codename hit too close to home. “I’m done with this day. Let’s just go home.”
He laughed again. “Oh no you don’t. You can't move ‘til you clean a little. You’ll drip blue everywhere.” He slowly grinned. “Bet you wish we took the Escalade now, eh?”
Ignoring him, I tried to move forward, but then a startled scream ripped from my throat as I slipped on the wet paint and went down hard on my butt.
“Shit.” All humor was gone from his face as he rushed forward to help me up. “You good?” His eyes were glued to my now blue cast.
I shook my arms out, making more blue splatter. Maybe this was fitting. I was spreading the blues. “Yeah. M’fine. Can you just get me paper towels?” I muttered, holding a hand to my forehead. “My head hurts. I need to get out of here.”
“I could tell you why.” He gave a small smirk as he brought the paper towels over.
“You're annoying me, you know that?” I ripped off some of the cloth and buried my face in it.
He surprisingly ripped off some himself and began gently patting me down.
“How much water did you drink today? Two sips when I forced you?” He reached over and grabbed his water, then shoved it at me. “Drink.”
“So much for you being silent,” I glowered at him, but he just grinned as he continued helping me. He walked over to the sink and wet some paper towels.
He stalked back, right into my personal space. His rough hand grasped my chin and gently pulled my face up. My heart pretty much stuttered in my chest at his touch. His eyes were solely focused on my face. He licked his lips and brought the paper towel up to brush my cheeks and forehead. His gentle touch was so at odds with how strong and masculine he looked that it nearly stole my breath. And this was too much. It was all too much.
I rolled my lips together and took a swift step back. “Thanks.”
He gave a lopsided grin. “You really know how to make a splash, Jinx.” His low rumble of a chuckle rolled over me, leaving my body feeling jittery and off-balanced.
He was being way too nice to me. I was edging back into the deep waters of romanticizing him– he was practically luring me there– and I needed to get back to the shore. I needed to bolt back. Because jumping into the deep end with Ben Capretti was the last thing I needed.
He somehow managed to make me feel way more than any other guy.
But this was fake . This was his job.
Which meant I desperately needed to avoid allowing him to break my heart for real.
_____
My head was pounding by the time we reached the parking lot and I didn’t feel like arguing over my driving skills, so I threw him the keys and plopped in the passenger seat.
“You’re not even gonna argue for the aux cord?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No,” I softly replied.
A second later, Third Eye Blind’s “Semi-Charmed Life” blasted through the speakers.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at him. “Asshole.”
He smiled and that stupid dimple of his popped out again. “It’s a great song. Very fitting for you.”
I just shook my head at him and vowed to silently brood the rest of the way home.
It wasn’t until we completely passed the turnoff to our apartment that I regretted that decision.
My neck snapped to his side-profile. “Where are we going?”
His dark eyes flitted to me. He turned back to the road and rubbed his stubbly jaw. “You need a new cast, Jinx.”
I bristled at the nickname and snapped “don’t call me that” then instantly regretted it. The more I argued about it, the more he’d love saying it— I learned that real quick growing up with my brother and from teaching teenage boys. And while I knew he was right about my cast, all I wanted was a warm shower and some comfort food.
“Can’t I at least wash up first?” I did manage to get most of the blue off in the bathroom after he helped me, but there was still evidence of the spill.
“Your cast could be warping as we speak. I don’t want this to push back your healing,” he said, sounding surprisingly sincere. “And Jinx is here to stay. Unless you’d prefer sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly as he drove.
Of course he couldn't just be nice and stop there. He was a damn Sour Patch Kid. “Just shut up.”
He rolled his muscular shoulders and chuckled. “What did I do to earn this attitude today?”
“Nothing. It’s on the house. Silence, shadow,” I said quietly, leaning against the window and closing my eyes. “My head hurts.”
A few minutes later, he pulled off the road, jolting me to open my eyes. He drove into a fast food drive-through. My stomach rumbled but I didn’t bring any money with me. I figured we were going home right after I finished my classroom set-up.
He rattled off his order, then peered at me. “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled, sinking into an even worse mood. Now I’d have to smell his damn food while I starved here, and who knew how long the hospital trip would take. Ugh. I so didn’t want to go back to the hospital.
He rolled his eyes, then rattled off a bunch more items from the menu.
As soon as he grabbed the brown paper back, and two cokes, he pulled out a burger box, then shoved the rest at me. “Eat. For my sake. I can’t take your hangry-ness.”
I froze. I wasn’t going to eat his food. I wasn’t that desperate.
He pulled forward then put the car in park. “We’re not moving ‘til you start eating something.” He pulled out his burger and took a big bite. My stomach rumbled, but he either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it.
He swallowed his bite, then his brown eyes bore into me. “Maggie,” he said darkly, like a warning, and I’ll never understand why a thrill of attraction shot through me.
“Benny,” I matched his warning tone.
“Eat the damn food.” He sounded exasperated. “You think I was pissed this morning? You have no fuckin’ clue how I’m gonna be if you make yourself pass out from lack of food. Now eat.”
I tried to swallow down how his deep, gravelly voice affected me. He was practically threatening me, how the hell did my body think that was attractive? But I listened to him all the same, because I had a feeling he was telling the truth about not driving until I ate something and I wanted to get this afternoon over with. I slowly took out the box on top. “You ordered way too much.”
“Your fault. You wouldn't tell me what you wanted,” he said, turning his attention back to his burger.
“So you ordered everything?”
“Eat.”
I pursed my lips and took out a cheeseburger. The smell alone was heavenly. I took my first bite and let out a moan. This could’ve been the worst burger and I still would’ve loved it because of how hungry I was, but it was cooked to perfection with salty, crispy edges, just the way I liked. I let out another moan as I swallowed the next bite down.
Ben’s body went rigid.
I swallowed and looked over at him skeptically. “What?”
“You have to stop doing that,” he said in a thick voice.
“Doing what?” I laughed and took another bite. Now he was annoyed I was enjoying the food he made me eat? I let out another moan and reached for my coke.
He pulled at the collar of his shirt, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re making sex noises,” he blurted, clearly annoyed.
I almost did a full spit take. I struggled to swallow because of my laughing, and I swear cheeseburger and pop were threatening to come out of my nose.
He looked at me in distaste and blew out a strangled breath. “Okay, we’re good. Calm down, jeez. ”
I laughed. “Points for saying jeez!”
He just shook his head as he drove off.
_________
Ben and I were waiting in one of the hospital rooms when a young, attractive doctor walked in with neatly gelled short blonde hair.
He faced me with his bright blue eyes and my heart jackknifed in my chest, but not for good reason. The blue eyes snapped me back in time. To Timothy’s eyes. A chill ran down my spine as my muscles locked up and the memory of that morning flashed through my mind.
Ben’s jaw hardened and he shot out of his seat so fast that he knocked the chair down behind him with a loud clatter.
The noise forced me out of my panicked paralysis and I shook my head slightly, desperate for him to just sit back down and not cause a scene.
But as the doctor talked, I couldn’t get over Ben’s reaction. How the hell had he realized I internally freaked out? It was probably just his military training, he was probably an expert at reading all people.
The doctor was looking at me expectantly. Shit. I had no clue what he just asked me.
“Huh?”
He gave a kind smile. “I’m Doctor Whitaker. Heard you got that cast of yours a little wet?” He grimaced as he eyed the blue paint-covered cast, then reached a hand out to shake mine.
I smiled and graciously took his cold, smooth hand in mine. “Hi, I’m Maggie,” I squeaked out. “Yeah, unfortunately.” I shrugged. “I’m an art teacher and I was setting up my room and blue paint just kind of…” I trailed off and my face heated. I needed to stop my nervous rambling. I tucked my hair behind my ear and glanced up.
Dr. Whitaker just stared at me with his blue gaze and nodded before turning to the door to call in a nurse. “Art teacher, huh?” he said with a relaxed smile. He took a seat on the stool facing me. “School year starting soon?”
“Yeah, Monday,” I said with a small smile.
He was very attractive, and he carried himself in a way that told me he knew it.
A large saw-looking device rolled in the room.
My eyes shot to Ben’s in panic.
He silently held up his fingers. One, two, three, four. He was instructing me to breathe with an amused grin on his face.
I rolled my eyes, but a grin tugged at my lips too.
“It looks scarier than it is,” the doctor explained. “It may tickle a little actually.”
I forced myself to swallow down my fear, and a few seconds later, the saw went straight through the plaster, and it did surprisingly slightly tickle.
When the doctor started moving for new cast material in the drawer, Ben’s eyes narrowed on my wrist. “Hold up, shouldn’t she get another x-ray? To make sure it’s in the right position?”
My stomach dropped. Oh God, please no . I couldn't take them “manipulating” it again.
“No, it should be solid,” the doctor explained with a confused double-take at Ben. He directed his attention back to me. “You said the incident just happened before coming here, right? You should be fine with the same check-up appointment in four weeks.”
That answer did not seem to appease Ben. He stepped forward and towered over the doctor. “ Should be?” he growled.
Ben, I mouthed, stop it. He looked like he was going to throttle the poor doctor.
I couldn't help but notice how they were total opposites. Ben was rough around the edges, with his muscles, Tim Riggins hair, and sleeve tattoo. Dr. Whitaker was clean cut, looked like he grew up in country clubs, and was probably an excellent tennis player.
Ben shifted his weight. “I want another x-ray. She banged her wrist.”
The doctor cocked his head to the side and looked at Ben with clear irritation on his face. “Well, she needs to request it, not you.”
“Maggie.” Ben looked at me with wide eyes, prompting me to request it.
“Maggie?” Dr. Whitaker said, holding up the cast material.
Okay, why were they both looking at me like that? I hated making decisions. I wanted to squirm away from their gazes because this felt all too awkward.
“Well, um…” My eyes bounced between the two of them. “He’s the doctor?” I said to Ben. “If you think it should be fine?” I asked Dr. Whitaker.
Ben slowly backed down, but not before muttering, “It better be fine” in a low voice while holding Dr. Whitaker in an intense glare.
I stared at him. What the hell was that? What had gotten into him? It’s not like I needed my left hand in perfect working order to testify for the FBI, so I’m not sure why he cared so much.
Whitaker gave me a bright smile, looking at me like I passed some kind of test.
The two of us fell into conversation as he started covering my wrist in a new cast, and Ben busied himself with his phone in the corner. Dr. Whitaker told me about his experiences in high school art classes, I told him about how I couldn’t even stomach watching Grey’s Anatomy with all the blood and what not, which made him chuckle and shake his head.
At one point I let out a hiss from a shock of pain. Ben’s gaze shot straight to me, his phone completely forgotten, looking ready to pounce the doctor.
I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.
When we were finished, Dr. Whitaker gave me a warm smile and started to exit the room, but as soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned back in the room.
“Now that I’m no longer your doctor, my name is Ethan,” he said with an easy smile, “and I’d love to take you to dinner. Maybe next weekend if you’re free?”
“Oh,” I blinked at him in surprise, my mind racing to catch up. I felt my face flush as I smiled. “That sounds like–”
Ben grunted, stealing my attention. He gave a subtle negative head shake, demanding I say no.
He had to be kidding.
I arched an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t tell me who I could or couldn't date, and I already explained to him that I wasn’t about to let this fucked up situation rob me of my life here.
I turned back to Ethan. “Fun,” I finished. “That sounds fun to me. Yes, I’d love to go out with you.”
He gave me a brilliant smile, and my body hummed with excitement. We smiled at each other like two excited idiots for a brief second. He was a great candidate for dating. He was a doctor, and he looked well-groomed, like a person who had excellent hygiene, and his teeth were very nice.
“Awesome. Here’s my card,” he said, pulling one from the chest pocket of his white jacket. “Shoot me a text,” he said with a wink.
I stared down at the card, catching sight of a little blue smudge on my right hand. So maybe the whole blue paint thing wasn’t bad luck after all, it was actually good luck. I laughed to myself. This day was all part of an invisible string, making me come here to the hospital so Ethan and I could meet.
As soon as the door swung shut. Ben towered over me. “You’re going out with that guy?” He looked aghast.
I shrugged. “Why not?” Why was he so angry? Probably because now he’d have to stick close by while I went on a date and he was annoyed. I rolled my eyes at his anger and pushed his muscular chest back so I could jump down from the exam table. His eyes immediately darted to our point of contact.
“It’ll be fine,” I coaxed. “And see? I'm not jinxed.” I gave him a cheeky smile. “This was all just part of the universe’s plan.” I let out a content sigh. “I was supposed to come here today so we could have our meet cute.”
His jaw hardened. “You’re not going.”
I gave him my sweetest fake smile. “Aww, so cute that you think you’re running the show. You’re not my keeper.”
He blanched. “I literally am!” He tugged at his hair in frustration. “I am your keeper, Maggie.”
“Yay, I have a date,” I said, completely ignoring him. “He’s really cute, don't you think?”
His eyebrows slammed down. “No, I do not think that, Maggie.”
“Oooh… Someone sounds jealous,” I sing-songed, wagging my eyebrows at him.
His frown deepened and his cheeks pinked up a little. “No.”
I lifted my eyebrows, shocked that I was actually making him squirm. I totally thought he was unshakeable.
“He’s a tool, Maggie.” He shook his head and pulled on the back of his neck. “Never should’ve gotten you food,” he grumbled.
I snorted. “Why’s that, big guy?”
“He gets light and giggly you, and I got stuck with hangry you?” His face looked desperate for understanding.
I threw my head back laughing, then patted his rigid stomach. God, he was so ripped. “Oh c’mon, keeper, let’s get out of here.”
As we walked down the too-bright, sterile hospital hallway, I couldn’t help but replay Ben’s sentence and wonder… Did he want light and giggly me?
No… I shook my head and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was just annoyed because he’d be forced to third-wheel on a date.
I strutted out of the hospital feeling much better about myself. Getting asked out on a date worked wonders for a girl’s mood. Maybe my plans weren’t quite doomed yet. Maybe the universe was just helping me out.