I shrugged a shoulder. “No clue. I only know how to do the things I learned in MCD.”
“Not true. You’re great at a lot of things.” He played a card, taking mine.
“Like what?” I asked, laying mine down next.
“You’re an entertainer, you’re friendly, and you make almost everyone feel at ease. You’re great at math, doing lots of things at once, and making me happy.”
“I make you happy?” I asked, looking at him from beneath my eyelashes. Something in me stopped, needing and dreading his words.
“You’re my everything, Princess.”
I sucked in a breath, trying to push his words away. I couldn’t cope with them right then.
“So, basically, you’re saying I should be a waitress?” I looked up, and for the first time ever, I saw his face fall. It was brief, but I saw the hurt flash across his eyes at my dismissal.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “That could work. I could do construction. We can look tomorrow and see what kind of jobs are out there. We have enough money to lay low for a bit, but I don’t want to wait too long and then be broke.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I placed my card down, smiling. “I win.” I smiled, but the mood felt different. “I guess we better head to bed so we can be ready in the morning.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Quietly, we got ready for bed, avoiding looking at one another. I felt like an ass, but I couldn’t take his pretty words when I felt anything but inside.
We got under the covers, and I turned my back to him. “Goodnight, Maddox.”
“Goodnight, Princess.” A few moments passed before I heard him whisper, “I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
Closing my eyes, I pressed back the tears that wanted to fall. A week ago, I would’ve killed to hear a boy say that to me. Now I just felt empty. I both craved him and feared it.
What if forever wasn’t enough? Would he still stay? Could I gamble with that?
Diary #5
Dear Mom,
Something isn’t right in me.
Each time Maddox does something sweet and nice, I want to slap him for it. Why can’t he see that I’m not deserving of those things? I’m damaged.
But then I think about them later, and I go all mushy inside. But when I’m faced with it, when he presents it to me or does something nice like buy me Starbursts, my favorite candy every time he’s out, I just want to scream.
So, yeah, something isn’t right with me. I’m broken. I’m wrong.
All my parts got mixed up, and I can’t be put back together. I’m a mutant toy fromToy Story. Sid’s gotten a hold of me, and instead of a body, I have spider legs. Instead of a head, I have a robotic arm. Instead of a heart, I have a hand.
How do I fix it when I’m unsure what needs to be fixed because it’s all messed up?
Love,
Darcie
Six
DARCIE
The clink of dishes mixed with the chatter of customers had become the soundtrack to my days. Though, you couldn’t forget the classic country tunes that played on the jukebox. It wasn’t horrible as jobs went, but I often found myself wondering if this was it. Was this all my life had to offer?
I’d worked at the diner a month already, and I was itching for something new.