Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part thirty-two

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Indie

The radio blasted music, Meg bobbing her head to the beat while tears sneak out of her eyes. She was trying to conceal it, but me being me I saw right through her. The act of being okay was no use and just made me more upset with Styles.

I could tell the music was somewhat a therapeutic medicine, except when a certain song came on she'd skip it without a thought. Going back to cry-mumbling the lyrics of other ones. Thinking about it now grunge music about being angsty probably wasn't the best thing to put on. 

To Harry :"You wanna explain to me why I have a crying ballerina in my car?" I shoot the text, but she doesn't see. Her whole mind is focused on the song of the music, beat of drums echoing through the speakers. I watch her chain-smoke, lighting one cig after another. Sending red-flag warnings down my spinal cords. Smoking was no where near the hard stuff she'd done before, but it still kept the pit in my stomach growing.

From Harry : "Yeah, I don't know what you're going on about." I roll my eyes at the text, ready to flip a bitch and smack him upside his dumb little head. Like seriously? Either he really doesn't know and that just makes him a blind idiot or he does know and he's just an ass hat. No matter the situation he could use a good refreshing slap back to sanity, though I prefer kneeing him in the balls.

To Harry: "Don't be coy you ass, you know actually what i'm talking about. So do I have to yank you by your curls or are you going to be a decent human and apologize." I flick my eyes from the road to the phone, though it's all safe with the bumper to bumper traffic. Meg twiddles her thumbs, mouthing the words. She'd seemed to calm down, sighing at the abundance of cars ahead of us.

From Harry: "You know I'd really appreciate it if you'd stay out of mine and Magnolia's business, I know you're a raging tiger mum but can't you calm the act for once." I clench my jaw at the text, the anger boiling inside of me once again. I fight the urge to call him and shout like a mad step-mom, I know that would upset Meg so I don't. Masking the fact that his smug little words had me ready to knock his lights out.

To Harry: "Right, Casanova. Whatever you said or did it hurt her, go ahead and be the heartless prick. She's better off without your mind games." I slam the cell closed, shoving in my back pocket in silence. I don't need to respond to any more of his texts, especially the ones where he's acting like he did nothing wrong. Because I know damn well he feels like shit right now, just too headstrong to admit it to Meg and most importantly himself.

"Okay sweets, lets go. Wipe your tears, we don't cry over useless men that belong in cages, remember?" "Yes." She puts on her game face, pushing down the passengers mirror and applying the lip gloss I forced her to take. I matched dashingly with the outfit I also made her wear. A cherry red corduroy skirt with a black turtleneck and a matching paperboy hat. 

"Bad bitches can't be sad when they look sexy as hell! Especially in fishnets!" I hype, hollering and whooping at her. She deprecatingly smiles, puckering her lips in the mirror.

"Now let's go get some overpriced sandwiches and pastries!" Usually I'd cringe at my hyper-ness but today it's just what she needed. Me to be an obnoxious twat to get her mind off of everything and anything. My crude behavior was the cherry on top of all the occurring chaos.

We waddle down the street, she stays quiet watching the lights of each and every store. The leftover twinkle ones from Christmas strung around the trees, they flowed with the moon's arrival. Glistening, reflective through the big seeing windows.

"Do you think he's gonna tell everyone I'm a druggie?" Her voice is low, but loud enough for me to hear. I wince at her words, scowling at the thought. "If he does he'll have another thing coming.." I half-joke, but actually I'll murder the fucker.

"Indie?" Meg groans, wanting me to not make a joke out of it, seriously asking me the question. "No, If your asking me honestly. No, I don't think he'll tell anyone."

"I can't believe I ran my mouth," She huffs "What I told him was so personal, it just fucking sucks.." And if he doesn't apologize soon there's gonna be a serious problem.

I try to reassure her, putting my hand on her shoulder. We continue to walk, making it closer to the cafe. "Babe, he may be a pompous dick but I don't see him telling anyone about you." Even that is too low for him.

"You're right, can we just... forget that meathead for tonight.. Just with today and everything it's not really appealing to talk about.." I hold the door open for her, she retraces through. And the sweet scent of baked goods infiltrates my nose, even with the drama it's hard to ignore. The inside is decorated nicely, cute chairs and table combos seating the big floor to ceiling windows.

Trudging up the stairs to the second floor of the cafe, a rustic homey vibe surrounding the whole thing. Fire crackling in the background was the perfect white noise. 

We sat down on the bar stools out looking the view, propped up further. A landscape of the mountains and the ski slopes that were small compared to how we were used to seeing them. A winter wonderland and we were safely enclosed in the snow globe. "Yeah-yeah..." I deadpan

Meg stares out the window, in a mindless sense. Aloof it seemed to the point of no return. The silence crowding us, as wood crackles in the foreground, consistent chatter with a compellent.

"You heard from her? Saffron." I figured it wasn't the best time to bring up her ex, considering the anniversary of her sobriety brought up unearthed feelings. I just didn't want her to suffer alone, she needed an outlet to throw her hurt into.

"No, and quite honestly I don't want to. She knows that, I'd rather her stay in France, keep away from Oregon as a whole." Pure bitterness came out, even if she was good at hiding it. I could tell what happened between them still had a hold on her heart. Even so she won't admit it. If only that twat didn't leave in such a rush I could give her a piece of my mind.

Though quite honestly I can't blame Meg for holding a grudge, Saffrons to blame for her addiction in the first place.

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