Page 16 of Let it Crackle
Fuck.
I turn. And there she is—standing by the open gate, holding a box of cupcakes she probably brought for the guys. Her eyes meet mine… she’s hurt and totally shattered.
And I know, in one heartbeat, that I fucked up.
“I just came to drop these off,” she says quietly, voice trembling as she sets the box on the bench. “Won’t make the mistake again.”
She walks off, stiff-legged and fast, crutches clicking against the concrete.
“Maya—” I call after her, but she doesn’t stop.
I don’t even wait to explain. I drop the hose where it is, water still gushing, and take off after her, boots pounding like thunder.
“Maya, wait—please!”
She doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t slow down.
I catch up halfway down the sidewalk, hand catching her elbow gently. She rips it out of my grip like my touch burns.
“Don’t,” she snaps, eyes brimming. “Don’t do that now. Not after you just stood there.”
“I didn’t laugh—”
“But you didn’tsay anything.” Her voice cracks. “That’s worse.”
She’s right. Goddammit, she’s right.
I drag a hand down my face. “I wasn’t trying to—shit, Maya. I just froze. It was a dumbass joke and I didn’t want to give it oxygen—”
“I don’t care,” she says, voice low and fierce now. “I don’t care if it was a joke or a whisper or a scream. You didn’t say anything, Maddox. And that silence? That told me everything I need to know about you.”
Her words hit like fire. Not the kind that burns skin. The kind that takes out whole houses from the inside.
“I thought you were different,” she adds, backing away. “But maybe you’re still just a bully.”
“No.” My voice is rough. “No, Maya. That’s not who I am. Not anymore.”
She gives me a look. One of those devastating ones. All betrayal and disbelief. “Then why did it still feel like I was the punchline?”
I don’t have an answer. Not one she deserves. Not yet.
She turns again, and this time, I let her go. Because what she needs isn’t me chasing her down with empty words. She won’t believe me now after she that. I’ve fucking messed up the best thing I ever had in my life.
Chapter 7
Maya
I don’t cry. Not right away.
I don’t even limp at first. Not until I’m around the corner, out of sight, and the sharp throb in my ankle starts screaming again, like a cruel reminder that I’m still human. Still breakable. Still fucking stupid.
I should’ve known better. I told myself—warned myself—not to fall. Not for Maddox Cole. Not for the same boy who laughed at me in high school, even if he’s grown into a man with strong arms and soft eyes. But then he touched me like I mattered. Held me like he meant it. Looked at me like I was the only girl on the planet worth a damn.
And God help me—I believed him.
I actually believed it. How stupid was I?
The joke didn’t even hurt that much. “Easy prey.” Ha ha. Whatever. Stupid and juvenile. But the silence? That’s what gutted me. That’s what split me wide open.
