Mayra shifted a little closer to me, and I felt my body seize up.
“It’s okay,” Mayra said softly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
I closed my eyes and tried to fight off the instant panic. I didn’t even know where it was coming from or if it was just because of my own stupid mouth. Talking brought on panic. That’s why I didn’t do it. I never made any sense, and I just made people think I was weird.
Right now, everything seemed so good with Mayra, and I probably just fucked it up. What if Mayra decided I was too strange to hang out with anymore?
Shit, shit, shit.
“Matthew, it’s okay…” I heard her saying through the haze that had become my mind.
I jumped when I felt her hand on my arm and pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I just…I don’t know what to do.”
I rubbed at the nail of my thumb with my other thumb three times and then switched hands. I kept my eyes closed and focused on the pressure against the nails, alternating back and forth over and over again.
“I play with my hands,” I heard myself say. “I don’t know why.”
“It’s all right,” Mayra said again.
There was more silence.
“Matthew, would it be okay if…”
“If what?” I asked.
“If I gave you another hug?” she finally asked.
I was still tense, and my body didn’t seem very willing to let that go. I tried to remember what it was like the last time she hugged me, and I didn’t feel any worse, so I nodded.
I felt the tips of her fingers on my shoulder, and then I felt them move around the back of my neck to grip my other shoulder. With her other hand, she reached across me and held on to the top of my arm. She tugged slightly then, bringing me a little closer to her. I was too tense and didn’t move much, so she shifted herself closer to me until I felt my head come into contact with her shoulder.
My eyes stayed closed as I inhaled the scent of her skin. I realized I was shaking and wanted to pull away out of embarrassment, but I didn’t. I just stayed where I was, and Mayra didn’t move either. After a few minutes, I reached one arm around her middle, and dug the other one between her back and the couch cushions.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through so much,” Mayra told me. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all this shit when you shouldn’t have to. I wish there was something I could do…”
I tightened my grip on her a little and felt her do the same.
I don’t know how long we were like that, with me wrapped up in her arms on the couch, but it felt like forever and an instant all at once. At some point, exhaustion seemed to take over, and I ended up with my head in her lap.
Another episode of MythBusters came on—the channel we were watching seemed to be running a marathon—and we both just started watching it. I felt Mayra’s hand shift to my head, and she began to thread her fingers through my hair.
I couldn’t bear the thought of changing positions, so I just stayed that way on the couch until Mayra had to go home. The conversation had been difficult, but I felt relieved when it was over, so I considered the day a win.
Chapter 7—Let’s See How I Can Embarrass Myself Further
Our arrangement became routine.
Every day, Mayra picked me up and took me to school in her Porsche. We didn’t usually talk very much during that time because Mayra is a self-proclaimed “non-morning person.” During school, things were pretty much the same as always—I went to classes, saw Mayra during ecology, tried to ignore Justin Lords, and ate lunch with Joe. When school was over, Mayra drove me home.
Once we got to my house, we worked on our project or other homework, drank Cokes in the living room, then went downstairs and watched television. Mayra sat on the left side of the loveseat, and I would lie down with my head in her lap. She’d run her fingers through my hair while we watched either MythBusters, Big Bang Theory, or sometimes even Top Gear. I was pretty sure Mayra didn’t like Top Gear too much, so we usually watched one of the others.
I should have known it couldn’t last.
It was the following Thursday, and I had all but fallen asleep to the feeling of Mayra’s fingers in my hair when the phone rang. When I answered it, it was the body shop telling me my car was ready for pickup.
“Cool!” Mayra said when I told her. “Now you can get yourself around again.”