Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [50]
What’re the chances of me and a guy like Thane Walker? she silently asked, then looked at the answer floating to the surface of the ball. The answer is unclear.
Oh yeah? Well, does he have a girlfriend?
There is a good possibility.
Are you full of crap?
My sources say no.
Right, and I’m the queen of England. She dropped the ball onto the bed, grabbed a dart from the bedside table, launched it, and smiled as it landed on Sean’s left kneecap. “Shows you for messin’ with me,” she whispered as she turned off the light and closed her eyes.
Thane’s face, all tanned angles and planes, swam to the surface of her consciousness, in much the same way as the messages seemed to swim upward in her stupid fortune-seeing ball. She wondered where he lived, who his friends were, if he was with a woman at that very minute. Sighing, she told herself to forget him.
Through the open window, over the sounds of insects buzzing and the hum of traffic on distant streets, Mitch’s voice, low and harsh, seeped into Maggie’s bedroom. She couldn’t believe that he was outside the window, and then with a quick peek through the open pane, realized that he was standing in the shadows, on the far side of the pool, unaware that his voice carried, clarion clear, over smooth-as-glass water. And he wasn’t alone.
“What’s got into you?” he demanded.
Maggie slithered like a snake onto the floor and clasped her knees, wishing she couldn’t hear the damning words as her heart drummed in dread.
“What do you mean?” Mary Theresa asked. Maggie’s stomach tightened painfully.
“Oh, come on, you practically sicced Mom on me, didn’t you?” Mitch was furious. “She grounded me, you know. Threatened to take away my car. Shit, Mary T, why?”
“Because it made more sense. She’ll believe that you and your friends got into her booze and partied. But if I said that it was you and me—”
“You didn’t have to say anything.”
“I did. She knew, damn it. And Maggie, she knows.”
There was a moment of silence, and Maggie didn’t know what was worse, the accusations or the pulsing quietude that oozed through the crack between window and frame. She closed her eyes, didn’t want to think about Mitch and Mary Theresa, wished she could close the window and block out any hint of their conversation.
“Well, at least Mom doesn’t know about us.”
“We’d better keep it that way.”
“I know. I know. I, hell, Mary T, I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, okay?”
“It…I mean it was great but—”
“Shh! It’s over! It…it was all a mistake…”
“I know, I know.” Mitch’s voice was filled with self-loathing. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much, shouldn’t have kissed you—”
“Shut up!” Mary Theresa’s voice was sharp. Commanding.
“I’m just trying to apologize.”
“I get it, okay?” Irritation flavored her words. “Just leave me alone, Mitch. From now on, don’t even touch me.”
“I won’t. Believe me. But—”
“Just don’t. We can’t! God, Mitch, this is so sick.”
“You started it.”
“No, I didn’t…I just wanted to teach you a lesson…because of the last time…after the prom.”
“That was different.”
“I know…but…oh, shit, just forget it!”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You have to.” Mary Theresa was emphatic. “We have to.”
Hot tears formed in Maggie’s eyes—tears of embarrassment and shame that drizzled down her temples to her pillow. She wished she could close her ears as easily as she could her eyes. A sick feeling swept over her and her stomach roiled.
“I’ll try.” Mitch sounded like a whipped puppy.
“Okay. So we never talk about this again. Never! And if any of your friends ever find out, if you ever so much as breathe a word of what happened to anyone, I swear, Mitch, I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t worry.” He sounded sincere. “Just like I told Maggie, nothing happened.”
“Good.”
Maggie let out her breath.
“But Maggie doesn’t believe me.” Mitch sounded worried and Maggie cringed inside.
“Who cares?”
“I do. If she thinks we—”
“She doesn’t! Jesus, Mitch, get some backbone, will you?” Despite her harsh words, Mary Theresa sounded frightened.
“I just worry about her.”