Page 146 of Hockey Halloween
“Willoughby is an important role, but the lines are very manageable.” She passes me a copy of the play, with my parts highlighted, and assures me that rehearsals are a lot of fun. I skim over the lines, pausing at a kissing scene with a character named Marianne.
“Who plays Marianne?” I ask.
“Me. I’m in all your scenes, so I can coach you through any difficulties. Although I’m sure you won’t have many.” She smiles up at me. Her lips are full, shiny, and so kissable.
I want to do this, both for myself and to spend more time with Maya. Still, I pretend to be reluctant. “Fine. I’ll come to one rehearsal and see how it goes.”
Maya clasps her hands together and looks genuinely delighted. “Oh, Karl, how wonderful! You’re going to love drama.”
But now, I avoid looking at the face that I once found so irresistible. I won’t get taken in by her spell again. I sit down and lean against a wall. “Might as well get comfortable. How long do you think they’ll leave us here?”
She plunks herself down two steps above me. “I could try sending a selfie of the two of us smiling together. But we’ll have towait a few minutes. Nobody would believe we’d made up that quickly.”
“Fine. Let’s sit tight for ten minutes.” I pull out my phone, but predictably the signal sucks down here. I stuff my phone away, cross my arms, and say nothing. This is a nightmare. I’m not as angry as when I first saw Maya, but I certainly don’t feel like making small talk.
“Really?” Her tone is irritated. “You’d rather sit in silence until they come back? I can remember when there wasn’t enough time for all the things we wanted to talk about.”
“That was before I knew what you were really like,” I reply.
She huffs and mutters, “I can’t believe that I hoped to run into you.”
Red-hot anger runs through me. “Fuck! Was this all a setup? Did you use my best friend to get to me?”
“Oh my god, someone has a pretty high opinion of himself. How would I even know who your best friend is?”
“Who knows what’s in your bag of tricks?” No way I’m falling for her bullshit. Still, I can’t help asking, “What did you mean? Why were you hoping to see me?”
She lets out a long sigh, like I’m completely clueless. “At the risk of inflating your ego even more, I haven’t ever forgotten you. When Eden invited me to visit, I knew there was a chance that I might see you here. Monarch isn’t a huge college.”
“Who has the big ego now? Did you assume that I’d take one look and find you irresistible?” I scoff, but avoid looking at her face. I focus on her dress instead, but that’s worse because I can see the rise and fall of her rounded breasts as she releases angry breaths.
“Yes, nothing saysI want to seduce youlike a head full of snakes.” Then in a softer voice, she admits, “Whatever happened between us, I’d at least get some closure. Even if things went badly—although I could have never predictedthishorror show—that would help me forget about you.”
I’m too shocked to answer. Does Maya mean that she’s liked me all this time? That’s ridiculous. She never even cared in the first place.
“Why are telling me this? Now?” I ask.
Our eyes finally meet. She appears honest and straightforward—but Maya is a chameleon. “Because maybe our friends are right. We should talk, and now is a good opportunity.”
“Why bother? Once we get out of here, we’re never going to see each other again. We can pretend to be all chummy in front of Bergy and Eden. That’s what you excel at, anyway.”
Her round face is creased with passionate anger. “What the hell is your problem, Karl? What have I ever done to you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. How about the way you led me on? Was that part of your Method acting crap, pretending to be in love with me until the moment the play was over?” I ask.
“Wait?Iled you on?” she hisses. “How did I lead you on when I actually liked you? I broke up with Derek because of you.”
She is so full of shit. Fine, let’s do this. “Right. You liked me so much that you slept with Percy.”
For once Maya is stunned into silence. It feels good to call her out.
“I never slept with Percy,” she says softly.
“For fuck’s sake, I was right there,” I reply.
She frowns as she puzzles this out. How can she not remember having sex with someone? My initial insult felt way too harsh, but maybe I was right.
“Are we talking about the night of the cast party?” she asks.
