Knickers

Squishy and Vulnerable

The following few days are speckled with concerned messages from Maya and Dom, most of which are met with silence or indifference.
I use the quiet to finish the work I've been putting off, though everything I send off is crap, my prose laced with slight drunkenness. The scripts I write sober come out a touch too vulnerable and way too transparent, so I always keep the tequila nearby. I'll have to buy Maya a new bottle.
My mind often wanders off to her and Layla, how things are going between them, but I can't bring myself to ask, and she considerately doesn't offer any information. Maya always knows when I'm particularly fragile and is cautious to avoid breaking me.
Finally, after four days of moping, I ask Maya to meet me at our favorite barcade on Sunset, which she agrees to immediately. She seems relieved to see me and tackles me in a hug when we find each other inside.
"I already bought tokens," she tells me, shoving a few rolled coins into my front pocket. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes, I'm fine," I tell her, brushing her hair back and out of her face. "How about you?"
"Yeah, Layla and I went out earlier," she says, hesitating over Layla's name.
"So, are you official yet?"
"Well," she draws a breath, "I'm not sure if..."
"You can tell me. I'm fine."
"Well, yes, we are." The grin breaks out, despite Maya's reluctance. "I asked her yesterday. She's my girlfriend now."
I hug her again, squeezing her around her ribs. "That's fucking awesome. I'm thrilled. Let's drink to it."
"Just one," she says, pulling me off toward the bar. "Something fruity."
I buy us each a drink, different than our usual and loaded with sugar. Both were bartender's choice, a Maitai for Maya and a Sex on the Beach for me. We take our drinks around and hit all our favorite games, starting with Frogger, then following up with Space Invaders and DigDug.
Despite our sobriety, we have an excellent time, cycling through all the arcade games and depleting our supply of tokens not once, not twice, but three times. All is well, and my recent heartbreak is entirely forgotten, until a rowdy group of Brits crowds the Speed Racer game beside us.
Maya makes no attempt to be discrete as she takes me by the shoulders and steers me away from them, and the group clearly notices our avoidance, but Maya doesn't seem to care.
"I need another drink," she says quickly, as if I didn't notice her intentions.
"I'm not stupid, Maya," I say, stopping her in the aisle. "Like I told you, I'm fine."
"What do you mean?" she asks me innocently, interlocking our hands and continuing toward the bar. "I just wanted another drink."
She catches me rolling my eyes.
"Alright," she relents with a sigh. "I just didn't want you thinking about him."
"Yes, I figured that out. I have a brain." I glance back toward the innocent group of Brits, playing their game with a cheerful enthusiasm. "You made us look like assholes."
"I know," she sighs once more. "Maybe I shouldn't have. Do you think any of them are single?"
I chew my lip, examining the group for any signs of commitment, but prowling like I used to feels inexplicably wrong. I'd agreed to return to my old habits of hitting it and quitting it, but the psychological brakes are on and I can't take them off.
"Okay, fine, maybe not them," she says, turning me by the shoulders to face the rest of the arcade. "Anyone here look fuckable?"
I grimace at the thought. "Maya..."
"I'm just trying to get your mind off it," she says. "Remember how we used to help each other scope out hookups?"
"I know," I tell her. "I think I'm broken."
Maya frowns, rubbing her hands up and down my arms in a comforting gesture. "Did you really fall that hard, Marls?"
"I guess so," I say. "He occupies every corner of my mind."
Her frown deepens. "I still think he deserves to know that."
"I don't," I say firmly. "Maybe we can resume being friends after I learn to get over myself, but not before."
"So you've decided it's better to never know?"
"It's clear how he feels about me, Maya, and I can't blame him for it. I turned him down, remember?"
She huffs at my conviction. "Have you explained why you bailed the other night?"
"We haven't really spoken," I tell her, turning toward the nearest game and inserting a coin, averting my eyes so my confession doesn't seem so exposed. "It hurts."
Maya lays her head on my back and wraps both arms around my waist. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Shut up."
"You're not usually so squishy and vulnerable," she says. "I don't think you should so easily dismiss the person who caused it."
I ignore this comment and focus on my game, and I succeed until my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Maya and I both know that she's one of two people who text me. Before I can stop her, she snatches up my phone and reads through my messages, curling over herself so I can't disrupt her.
"Maya," I say, wrestling her for the phone. "Don't you fucking dare."
"He's inviting you over for a movie," she says, scrolling through the rest of our conversation. "He says he wants to talk."
"Well, sucks. I'm busy."
"I'm gonna tell him you're on your way."
"You'd better fucking not."
"You need closure," she insists, and I grab the phone from her just in time.
"I have closure," I tell her, deleting the damning half-complete text message and pocketing my phone.
"So he hooked up with someone," she says. "How do you know it wasn't just an attempt to get his mind off you? You're not unfamiliar with that kind of compensation."
"Stop trying to rekindle my optimism," I snap at her. "I was childish to think for a second it wasn't going to be a disaster. I barely avoided the biggest humiliation of my life. Let it go."
"I think it's reckless," Maya says. "I think you're too fearful for your own good."
"Whatever," I say. "Just let me be."
"As much as I want to respect this boundary of yours, I think it's detrimental. Please talk it out with him. If not for you, then do it for me."
"It's bizarre how willingly you'd send me to my death, considering that you'll have to be the one to resurrect me afterward." I turn back toward the machine to start a new game. "I preferred you when you avoided the subject."
She nods once, crossing her arms. "Right. Well. Then I'll avoid the subject of my conversation with him yesterday."
My hand tenses around the joystick. "Your what?"
"Conversation. He messaged me on Instagram." She purses her lips, shrugging in indifference. "But we're not talking about him anymore, right?"
"Right," I say, gritting my teeth. "You didn't out me, did you?"
She shrugs again, rocking back and forth on her heels. "I dunno."
"Maya, I swear to god."
"Maybe he asked about you," she says, overdoing the nonchalant shrugging at this point.
"And? Did he say something you're not telling me?"
"We didn't get into explicits," she says, "but you're neglecting him when he's been nothing but good to you. That's real shitty, Marls."
"Did you tell him to bury his sorrows in some rando's mouth?"
"Jesus Christ," she says, recoiling. "Chill, okay? Be rational, like I've always known you to be."
"He really fucked me up, I guess," I dismiss her. "With kindness, of all things."
"You owe him an apology," Maya insists. "Be a half-decent friend, at least, or next time he comes to me looking for an explanation I might have to tell him the truth."
I pause, clapping my hand down over the buttons and throwing my game. "Is that a threat?"
"I'm sorry, Marley, but it's for your own good, I swear."
"Is it worth it?" I snap at her. "You'd sacrifice my trust because you think you know better?"
"I know you'd self-destruct if I let you, and I won't let you." She reaches into my pocket and retrieves my phone once more, and this time I let her.
I sigh.
"I won't go to his place," I tell her. "Tell him to meet me at the AMC down the street."
"Good enough," she says, and taps out a message faster than I've ever seen.
"I can't believe you ambushed me," I tell her, moving a few machines down and starting another game.
"I did it because I love you."
I send a sharp glance her way. "Right."
"Marley."
"Fine." I swallow. "I love you, too."
"Yes, I know." She bumps me with her hip, knocking me away from the machine. "Move. My turn."