problematic

chapter eight

Somewhere in the background, Maya was sure she heard her name being called numerous times.

Only she was too distracted by the light incessant drumming of what sounded like the start of a downpour.

"Maya."

She spun around and her mother was much closer than before.

"Huh?"

Katy set the two mugs of tea down on their coffee table, a concerned look on her face.

"What's going on? You seem distracted." She grabbed her mug, blowing cool air into it.

Maya ran her hands over the soft cotton of her pyjama pants, picking at the lint.

"I'm fine," she spoke in a quiet voice.

Katy sighed slowly in exasperation, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"Maya," she said firmly. "I want you to be able to talk to me."

Katy had gotten that job at the hotel—which meant better pay and more time off. She had insisted that the both of them spend more quality time together.

Maya wasn't aware that quality time also meant having to talk about her life and everything happening in it.

If she was being quite honest, it felt awkward to talk about those type of things. She just wasn't used to expressing her emotions—but she did appreciate her mother's effort.

"It's the project." Maya watched as the steam from the mug rose and swirled in the air.

"Um, Lucas and I had a fight so we haven't been making any progress."

Katy nodded along, her nails making a clinking noise against the ceramic mug.

"What were you fighting about?"

Maya picked at her polish, the black lacquer covering no more than a quarter of her nails.

"It's not really important." She decided to keep to herself. "But I think I've really upset him and I'm worried."

"About the project." Maya's words rushed. "I'm worried about the project."

Katy pressed her lips together, giving her daughter a knowing look.

"Are you sure the project is what you're worried about?"

The younger blonde nodded reluctantly, her eyes set on the empty space in front of her.

"Maya, I'm sorry—but when have you ever been this worried about something school related? I think you're worried about your relationship with Lucas." Katy held the mug to her lips, not taking a sip quite yet.

"There's no relationship, we're not even friends."

Maya knew she had just lied, she always seemed to be in denial whenever it concerned the guy. There was definitely something between her and Lucas, it was unexplainable.

She felt hatred towards him for what he had done but there was also something about him that she liked—in a way that she always wanted him to be around.

"No matter how much you say you hate him, I think he's growing on you, Maya." Katy's lips tugged into a small grin.

She sighed, laying her head on her mother's shoulder. "Yeah, like a fungus."

Katy chuckled, pulling her daughter into a side hug. "You're very stubborn—I would know, you got that from me. But whatever the fight was about, just apologize; because in the end, it's not worth it to hold grudges."

Maya nodded, taking in her mother's advice.

"Thanks, mom." She spoke after the brief silence.

"No problem, honey." Katy smiled, walking off to turn off the kettle.

"I'm going to get some rest, I have to be a little early for work tomorrow."

Maya nodded, not leaving her spot on the couch. The lights turned off and she was alone again—with her cold mug of tea and pestering thoughts.

After a few more minutes in the dark, she finally got up from the couch, draining the tea before walking to her room.

Even when she was already under the covers, she couldn't stop thinking about Lucas. It annoyed her how much the whole conflict ended up bothering her.

It was odd how in the beginning, all she wanted was to repel him—but now he occupied all of her thoughts and she couldn't rest until things were resolved between the two of them.

Closing her eyes was no help. She would still see his face, and his smile.

Maybe she needed help—like help from a psychiatrist. It couldn't be healthy to feel this way about someone; to feel like you hated them but wanted more of them.

Maya buried her head into her pillow, staying there until she needed to lift her head for air again.

She even remembered the way he smelled. If she focused enough, she could briefly bring herself back to his scent of fresh linen and pine.

Almost every detail of his face, she had memorized. The curve of his smile, the gold flecks she observed in his emerald eyes the few times he had gotten a little too close.

Maya grumbled under her breath, turning on her other side. She wondered if this was what going crazy felt like.

Turning on her lamp shade, she sat up and leaned her back against the wall. It was obvious she would not be getting any sleep anytime soon.

Her eyes drifted to her backpack which laid near her feet at the end of the bed. Maya dug inside until she found what she was looking for.

She opened her sketchbook to a new page, grabbing the charcoal pencil from her side table.

It didn't take long for her to figure out what she was going to draw.

Maya's hand began moving across the page, the pencil gliding gently across the paper as she printed the image from her mind onto the white canvas.

She had it all in her head. The twinkle of amusement in his eyes whenever he listened to her talk, the cheekbones that she was certain were carved by the gods, the way his lips curled in an almost unnoticeable grin sometimes.

When she finished, she stared at his face one more time before ripping the page out of the book and crumpling it into a compact ball, tossing it away.

Maya wished getting rid of her thoughts were as easy as throwing away a crumpled ball of paper. 

She figured that she needed a breath of fresh air and realized it had stopped raining—so she slid up her window and climbed onto the fire escape, but not before retrieving the pack of cigarettes from her dresser.

A lighter sat below the railing which was the one she had left there on her previous smoke.

When she flipped up the lid of the box, it was empty.

"Fuck me." Maya muttered, chucking the empty pack over the terrace.

She leaned over the railing, watching as it fell onto the sidewalk.

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