Maggie pretends to observe the waffle pattern on the narrow channel of bedspread between them while surreptitiously watching John through her lashes. She doesn’t know what it is about the next question that makes his broad shoulders sag, but she notices that they do. For some reason, she feels that she needs to be a little careful with her answer.
“I think that I would walk away. Although it is nice to be called beautiful.”
He wonders how someone more naturally charming would respond. A person like Jem would have something to say—it'd just come out, spontaneously, a touch biting but still eminently likable. Or Quaid with his wry smile, Gideon with his deprecating smile, Emmett with his earnest eyes. Even Roswell has a quick wit. As for John, he feels the artifice of himself too keenly. Already he can picture the moment he will have to get up and walk away, what expression he will wear, how he will carefully nod at Maggie before turning away to read a magazine or watch Dutch for the continued sign of her breathing. If he says what comes to mind, it's never that one good, right thing.
"You have a strong feeling that your boyfriend is chasing the school's fastest freestyler, Jennifer. When you meet on Saturday, he smells like chlorine. You:
- yell at first whiff, 'I knew it. You're nothing but a no-good cheat!' - ask him if he went to the swim meet. If yes, casually ask why. - assume he's secretly taken a part-time job as a pool cleaner."
And right now she has a strong feeling that John is ready to be done with administering this quiz. She suspects that he likes the idea of talking to her more than he enjoys the hard work of actually doing so. But that is okay. He is a nice person and he will continue to be nice to her out of obligation or pity or guilt, and it will feel mostly the same to her, so she doesn’t fret too much about it.
“I knew how he felt even before the chlorine. No reason to make a scene. If I liked him still, I would stay. If not, I would go.”
Alarmed by her answer, John sets the magazine down, putting his hand in the channel of blanket between them without thinking as he turns. He feels afraid, but it’s a warm, calm sort of fear. Cognizance of the inevitable, merely trying to puzzle a shape out of the unreadable.
“If you don’t like to make a scene, how would someone know you’re about to leave?”
Maybe he’s already overstayed his welcome. Then, a pause: he blinks, catches himself too late, but fully at least.
“Never mind. Your friend Alyssa wants to copy off your math test tomorrow. She just went out on a limb for you by calling up your crush, and you know that this teacher watches the class like a hawk. So you say:
- ‘No way, chiquita.’ - you can't go along with it, but you'd be glad to help her study. - okay, and hope for the best.”
"Why should I give warning? He is pursuing someone else." Maggie asks genuinely. Her nose suddenly starts to bleed again and a spot of blood drops on to the back of John's hand. She reaches past him for the handkerchief at her bedside. "Sorry."
"Anyway. Alyssa can copy off of my math test. That is no problem."
A sympathetic frown at her nosebleed; another pause to let her wipe her face before he continues.
“At a slumber party, your gang starts up a no-holds-barred session of Truth or Dare. Someone dares you to strip naked and run through the sprinklers, even though it’s past midnight and below -15 degrees outside. You:
- bust off your flannels and pray your chest cold doesn't escalate to a lethal case of pneumonia. - quit. You've always hated that game anyway. - quickly switch to truth--you'd prefer to be tortured at room temperature, thank you.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose and leans forward slightly so that the blood drains in to her hanky instead of down her throat. She is not trying to be funny but when she answers her voice is nasally and jumbled, which undercuts the seriousness with which she attempts to deliver her response.
"I am not going barren to win a slumber party game. I would quit."
Absently, he places his hand on her shoulder, rubs back and forth slightly—trying to provide what comfort he can for her nose.
“Last one, Maggie. A fortune-teller on the street calls out to you that she has news that will ease your mind. You have been really anxious lately, so you:
- stop in your tracks and head over to her. But you're disappointed to learn that she wants money first. - ask for a price list and what kind of readings she gives. - ignore her. You heard about those fortune-telling scam artists on 60 minutes just a few weeks ago.”
Oh, I really am a sucker, Maggie thinks. She should not be soothed by the touch of a man who has spent the past year ignoring her, the past month and a half bickering with her, and the past three weeks haunting (yes, haunting) her dreams. But she is soothed. She likes it a lot when he runs his hand over her back. It makes her brain feel heavy and slow, like a big dumb animal.
She releases the pressure on her nose a little so that she can speak more clearly.
"Um, I would take a reading if she seemed legit. I would be able to tell. So, the middle one, I guess."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
11/12, bite ward
“I think that I would walk away. Although it is nice to be called beautiful.”
11/12, bite ward
He wonders how someone more naturally charming would respond. A person like Jem would have something to say—it'd just come out, spontaneously, a touch biting but still eminently likable. Or Quaid with his wry smile, Gideon with his deprecating smile, Emmett with his earnest eyes. Even Roswell has a quick wit. As for John, he feels the artifice of himself too keenly. Already he can picture the moment he will have to get up and walk away, what expression he will wear, how he will carefully nod at Maggie before turning away to read a magazine or watch Dutch for the continued sign of her breathing. If he says what comes to mind, it's never that one good, right thing.
"You have a strong feeling that your boyfriend is chasing the school's fastest freestyler, Jennifer. When you meet on Saturday, he smells like chlorine. You:
- yell at first whiff, 'I knew it. You're nothing but a no-good cheat!'
- ask him if he went to the swim meet. If yes, casually ask why.
- assume he's secretly taken a part-time job as a pool cleaner."
11/12, bite ward
“I always trust my gut.”
And right now she has a strong feeling that John is ready to be done with administering this quiz. She suspects that he likes the idea of talking to her more than he enjoys the hard work of actually doing so. But that is okay. He is a nice person and he will continue to be nice to her out of obligation or pity or guilt, and it will feel mostly the same to her, so she doesn’t fret too much about it.
“I knew how he felt even before the chlorine. No reason to make a scene. If I liked him still, I would stay. If not, I would go.”
11/12, bite ward
“If you don’t like to make a scene, how would someone know you’re about to leave?”
Maybe he’s already overstayed his welcome. Then, a pause: he blinks, catches himself too late, but fully at least.
“Never mind. Your friend Alyssa wants to copy off your math test tomorrow. She just went out on a limb for you by calling up your crush, and you know that this teacher watches the class like a hawk. So you say:
- ‘No way, chiquita.’
- you can't go along with it, but you'd be glad to help her study.
- okay, and hope for the best.”
11/12, bite ward
"Anyway. Alyssa can copy off of my math test. That is no problem."
11/12, bite ward
“At a slumber party, your gang starts up a no-holds-barred session of Truth or Dare. Someone dares you to strip naked and run through the sprinklers, even though it’s past midnight and below -15 degrees outside. You:
- bust off your flannels and pray your chest cold doesn't escalate to a lethal case of pneumonia.
- quit. You've always hated that game anyway.
- quickly switch to truth--you'd prefer to be tortured at room temperature, thank you.”
11/12, bite ward
"I am not going barren to win a slumber party game. I would quit."
11/12, bite ward
“Last one, Maggie. A fortune-teller on the street calls out to you that she has news that will ease your mind. You have been really anxious lately, so you:
- stop in your tracks and head over to her. But you're disappointed to learn that she wants money first.
- ask for a price list and what kind of readings she gives.
- ignore her. You heard about those fortune-telling scam artists on 60 minutes just a few weeks ago.”
11/12, bite ward
She releases the pressure on her nose a little so that she can speak more clearly.
"Um, I would take a reading if she seemed legit. I would be able to tell. So, the middle one, I guess."
"What does that make me?"
11/12, bite ward
“You are not a sucker. But you have sucker tendencies.”
Stands up, stretches his hip briefly, returns to his cot.
“Be careful.”