Teacups and Parachutes

Maude

"I'm not leaving!" I said, smashing my head into the pillow. "I'm never going to leave!" That's when the tears started to flow again.

"Maude Sheila Stuart, if you do not leave that room this second, I'm going to set it on fire!" My mom yelled, pounding on the door.

"Fine." I unlocked the door and opened it, revealing my mother standing in front of me, hands on her hips. "Oh, and thanks for giving me time to grieve." I said, breezing past her.

"Maude, I'm sorry. But you can't stay in there. Why don't you get dressed and I'll let you take the car out. You always used to love driving, you said it soothed you."

"Well, that's because I was driving to Luke's house." I opened up the jar with the tea in it only to find it empty. "Alright, I'll leave. But only because we're out of tea." I stomped to my room, slamming the door behind me. I opened my closet door, looking through my clothes, trying to find something that didn't smell so much like him.

I settled on a big sweatshirt and jeans, hoping it would be enough to keep from the cold.

Once I was sat in the car, I started up the engine, enjoying the way the cold wheel felt in my hands. I turned out of the driveway, heading towards the nearby bookstore, the only place where I could find solitude and good tea.

"Hello Maude! I haven't seen you in so long! Or at least on your own, I mean, you were always here with that Luke boy. I liked him." Martha, the owner, greeted. I nodded as the bittersweet memories filled my head. I felt a warm tear slip down my cheek, then collapsed. "Maude! What is it?" Martha asked, sitting down next to me.

"Luke," I choked out. "He died." I whispered, still shocked as the words left my mouth.

"Oh dear, come here." Martha wrapped me up in a big hug. "Why don't you pick out a book, on the house, and I'll make you your favorite tea."

"I'd love that." I said, collecting myself and standing. I made my way over to the romance section, picking out a big Nicholas Sparks novel. I sat myself down and began reading the book, pausing only when Martha brought me my tea. I thanked her before looking at the plate the cup was rested on. It was chipped. No, no, no. Not this plate. How could Martha have known, though, that it was Luke and I who had broken that plate, laughing so hard that we cried. That was before he told me that he was diagnosed with cancer again, before he left me and everyone else. I felt the tears coming back again, so I buried my head in the book.

"Hello." A boy said a few minutes later, sitting down next to me.

"Hi? Do I know you?"

"Rory, stop frightening her! Sorry, Maude, that's Rory, my grandson." Martha explained. Rory smiled, a big grin that showed off his dimples. He looked to be my age, maybe a tad older.

"Nice to meet you." I said, turning back to my book.

"Will you talk to me?" Rory whispered. "If I'm not doing anything, Gran will make me work." I laughed.

"Sure. How are you, Rory?"

"I'm wonderful, Maude. How are you?" I sighed.

"In all honesty, not very well."

"And why is that?" Rory asked, widening his stunning green eyes.

I just shook my head. "Rory, are you from Australia?"

"Actually, I am. How did you know?"

"The accent is a big giveaway."

"So I've been told." He nodded. "Do you want to see something?"

"You're not gonna flash me or anything, right?" I asked, alarmed.

"You'll just have to see." He whispered, taking my hand. I grabbed my tea cup and purse before following him. "I found this place once when I was younger." He opened a door behind the children's section, revealing a room with a couch and coffee table. "It was empty before, but my Gran let me move in here." I followed him in and sat next to him on the couch. After a we moment of silence, I pulled my iPod and headphones out of my purse.

"Do you wanna listen?" I asked. Rory nodded, taking the earbud I handed him. Once I started the music, he seemed surprised.

"You listen to Mumford & Sons?" He asked.

"Yup." I handed him the iPod so he could look through it.

"Wow, you have like, all the albums!"

"You can borrow it if you want." I took out a pen and grabbed his wrist, writing my address. "Just drop it off here when you're done with it." I took a sip of my tea.

"Thanks."

"No, thank you. This was fun." I stood up, smiling.

"Don't leave." Rory said, taking my hand and pulling me back down.

"Fine."

"Thank you. We don't usually get people my age at the bookstore, so I'm pretty lonely most of the time. You're my first friend in ages."

"You too, actually." I agreed. Ever since Luke's passing a few months ago, I'd stayed holed up on my room for days on end.

"I doubt that. A pretty girl like you must be very popular." And I guess he was right. I had nice blonde hair and eyes an impossible shade of dark blue, they were almost indigo, so I guess that classified me as pretty.

"Thanks." I said blushing. I took one of the earbuds and closed my eyes, soaking up the therapy of the music.

**********************

I woke up on a green couch, wrapped in a purple afghan. I was so confused, I screamed.

"Oh, you're awake." Rory said, coming into the room. "You passed out, and I didn't want to wake you."

"Thank you, but I better leave." I stood up, grabbing my purse and heading out.

"Your iPod!" Rory said, sprinting after me.

"I told you, you can borrow it. Just drop it off when you're done. I gave you the address, right?" He nodded.

"And, if you don't mind me asking, well, it's just, when you were sleeping, you were, you were crying. Why?" Rory asked, taking my hand. I tried to keep my poker face, but I couldn't. My eye twitched, sending a new flood of tears out of my eyes. "Shhh, it's alright. Come 'ere." He wrapped me up in a warm hug, yet it chilled me to the core. I hadn't felt this way since, no. I couldn't feel this way, it was too early. No, no, no.

I pushed my self out of the hug, a new set of tears making their way down my face. I shook my head, seeing the disappointed look on Rory's face.

"Oh." He looked at me with sad eyes. "I get it. Sorry." He turned around, stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, and went back inside.

I sat on the cold ground, thinking. Would Luke want me to feel so sad? No, he wouldn't. He would want me to move on, he would want me to pursue Rory if I liked him, which I did. I knew what I had to do to make things right.

**************

"And I will wait, I will wait, for you," I sang, sitting outside of the door to Rory's room with my guitar. I hadn't sang in months, I would only sing to Luke. But this was important. I needed to make things right. So I sang. Mumford & Sons, of course, since that was what Rory liked. I thought that the song 'I Will Wait' fit, because I was waiting for him to (1) forgive me, and (2) fall in love with me, but that was a little to much, I guess.

"Gram, what's going on out there?" Rory yelled, coming out of his room. "Oh, hi. What do you want?" My face fell. He didn't like me, not even as a friend. I was so upset, I just kept singing.

"And I will wait, I will wait, for you,

So break my step,

And relent,

You forgave, and I won't forget

Know what-" I sang until Rory ripped the guitar from my hands, picked me up, and spun me around.

"Thank you." He whispered in my neck, dangerously close to my ear. And then, in a rush, I felt the warm feeling flood my insides. Like tea, I thought. That's what Rory was, like a teacup. He made me feel good when I certainly didn't want to, and made me laugh when I hadn't I weeks.

"You're welcome, Teacup." I said, setting the nickname into motion.

"You're cute, Parachute." I smiled at the nickname, but I was a little confused. Oh well, this was not a time for being confused. This was time for finally, after months, being happy.