16. When Losing Suddenly Matters
1641 Words
Molly
Charles keeps staring at me from across the small field and there is not a single hint of a smile on his face. His expression is flat, unreadable, too intense, and it sends a shiver rolling down my spine. He needs to relax. It is not that deep. It is literally a silly game with colored powder, not a war for my virtue. Although with the way he looks right now, I am starting to suspect he would take both equally seriously.
Maya, meanwhile, is smiling like a fool. She keeps talking to him, leaning in, tossing her hair, doing that breathy laugh women do when they want a man to notice them. He is not interested. It is obvious. He barely glances at her and she still doesn’t give up. Dedication or delusion. Hard to tell.
Lawrence clears his throat gently beside me. “Sorry about my wife. She is just really bubbly. She is actually a very sweet person.”
I look at Maya, who is practically draping herself over Charles like a decorative scarf. “No offense, but she doesn’t look like one.”
“Don’t say that,” he gasps softly. “My Maya is the sweetest person ever.”
This man looks like a love-sick puppy. A sad, affectionate, very confused puppy. I actually pity his entire existence.
The moderator claps his hands. “Alright everyone, this is the first round. Get your aprons on. Painters on one side, defenders on the other. When I blow the whistle, the throwers try to hit the painters. Defenders protect.”
I sigh as I tie my apron. It is far too late to back out. Besides, why not. A little play isn't bad.
The first pair goes. The painter is this tall redhead girl and her boyfriend tries to defend her but he blocks absolutely nothing. She gets splattered like a crime scene and everyone laughs.
The second pair is an older couple. They take it way too seriously. The woman shrieks at her husband, demanding he move faster, but he blocks most of the shots and they actually win that round.
Now it is our turn.
Molly and Lawrence on one side.
Charles and Maya on the other.
Fantastic.
I take my position and grip the brush. I glance once at Charles and he is staring directly at me again. No smile. Just heat and focus. Just that look that makes my thighs press together automatically.
The whistle blows.
Lawrence immediately jumps in front of me like a knight. Except instead of blocking powder, he blocks absolutely nothing. Charles goes straight for me with his first throw and Lawrence screams and ducks. He literally ducks. Full crouch.
“I thought you were supposed to protect me,” I hissed.
“My reflexes betrayed me,” he squeaks.
I get hit with a burst of bright blue powder, right in the chest.
“Oh great. Lovely. Fantastic,” I mutter as I start painting again.
Charles throws another color and Lawrence swings his arm like he is swatting a fly, misses everything, loses his balance and falls sideways into my leg.
I almost trip.“Lawrence, please stand still before you injure both of us.”
“Sorry,” he gasps, flustered.
Meanwhile Maya is shrieking happily every time Charles blocks something for her. She keeps yelling things like “You’re amazing!” and “Oh my god, you’re so f*****g strong!”
Please. Someone hose her down.
Charles blocks everything thrown at Maya easily. He barely even moves when he throws powder at me, smooth wrist flick, perfect aim, and it hits me every damn time.
He is enjoying this. I can see it in his eyes.
He looks like a man who likes watching me lose my mind.
By the time the whistle blows again, I look like a rainbow threw up on me.
The moderator beams and shouts, “Winners are Charles and Maya!”
Maya screams and jumps like she just won the lottery. “Oh my god we won! Charles, we f*****g won!”
I look over at Charles. His apron is spotless. Not a single stain. Maya looks fresh too. Completely clean.
“What the actual hell,” I mutter.
Lawrence looks at me with a broken expression. “I’m so sorry. I tried.”
I force a smile. I really do.
“It’s fine. You did… something.”
The moderator announces the scores and of course Charles and Maya are leading. Lawrence and I are dead last.
The moderator moves on to the next game, the sack race. I didn't care about winning anything before, but now I want to beat Maya and Charles so badly it burns. He flips the board to show the prizes. My eyes land on a sleek limited edition massage gun and I point at it immediately.
“I want that,” I say. “I want it so badly.”
Maya gasps dramatically and points at a diamond charm bracelet. “Oh my God. I want that one. Charles, look at it.”
Before Charles speaks, Lawrence jumps in. “I’ll get it for you, Maya.”
Maya blinks at him. “As if.” She links her arm through Charles’s and smiles up at him. “Charles will win it for me.”
I look at Charles even when I know I shouldn't. His jaw is hard and his face is unreadable. He still will not look at me. He turns and starts walking and Maya runs after him, calling his name like she is some hyperactive butterfly.
Lawrence watches her leave with a dreamy expression. “Isn’t she so cute?”
“Cute is one word for it,” I think, while staring at the man who is obviously lovesick and helpless.
We get into position for the race. Each pair has to share one sack. Getting one leg each into the same sack with Lawrence feels like wrestling with a confused octopus. Meanwhile Charles and Maya slide into theirs flawlessly because life loves them more.
The moderator raises the whistle. The tension spikes. I can feel Charles’s presence to my left and my body responds like it has no self-control. My lungs tighten and heat curls low in my stomach. It is embarrassing.
The whistle blows.
We jump. Well, I jumped. Lawrence takes tiny slow hops like he is scared of the ground. I grab his arm. “Lawrence, hurry.”
“I’m trying,” he wheezes.
Maya and Charles are ahead already. They look coordinated and annoyingly perfect. Maya is giggling and clinging to him with every hop and he is completely focused.
I start dragging Lawrence forward with pure rage. He almost falls. “Sorry,” he squeaks.
Charles and Maya reach the finish line and practically leap over it. Maya jumps with joy. I grunt loudly and force myself forward until Lawrence and I finally finish in third place.
I yank my leg out of the sack and lose my balance. I fall straight to the ground in the most humiliating way possible.
“Molly, are you alright?” Lawrence drops beside me with his usual terrified expression.
I stare down at the floor because shame is consuming me from head to toe. “I’m fine,” I mutter.
Then I see black shoes stop in front of me. Charles.
“Are you hurt?” His voice is low, deep, and way too close.
I refuse to fully meet his eyes. “So now you want to act like you care,” I whisper under my breath.
He holds out his hand. “Come on. Take it.”
I ignore him and push myself up even though my ankle throbs. “I said I’m fine.”
I dust off my pants. “I’m heading to the restroom.”
I walk away before he can say anything else, because if I stay, I might scream or cry or both.
The restroom is blissfully quiet when I step inside. I take care of my business, wash my hands and stare into the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and the irritation bubbling under my skin refuses to calm down. That annoying Charles must be laughing his ass off watching me struggle out there. I know I am being childish but my brain and my hormones are having a war and I am losing.
The door opens and I look up. Maya walks in.
Of course. Because why would I ever be allowed peace.
I sigh loudly and roll my eyes.
She shuts the door behind her and leans on it dramatically. She looks at me with a smug little smile. “See, you are alright. He was overreacting.”
I blink. What is she talking about? I grab a napkin and wipe my hands slowly because I need something to keep me from snapping.
She steps closer. “I hope you don't mind that I am with Charles.”
I smile, but it is the kind of smile you give when you are picturing someone falling into a hole. “Why would I mind? It is just a game. And besides, you are married. So it is fine.”
Maya tilts her head. “Not for long.”
I stare at her. “I don't understand.”
She shrugs. “What is there to understand? I like Charles. I am going to go for him.”
I let out a dry laugh because reality has officially lost control. “You will leave your husband for someone you met today.”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “I hope you don't mind. And it seems you and Charles are not that close. Charles doesn't
seem to be into you. That's what he told me.”
I freeze. My brain malfunctions.
- Writer
