Maia

Sitting up at the barstools, Bat was teasing me about my recent adventures. Laughing jokingly, he slung an arm around my shoulders, and ordered us a couple of root beers. I solemnly regarded him.

"It's not funny, Bat," I snarled. "The babies . . ." I shuddered.

Nodding mockingly, Bat didn't believe it for a second.

"Yes I know!" he cried in fake horror. "They made an array on pedestals! Covered in dripping blood cloths! Pale and lifeless!" he threw the back of his arm over his forehead and pretended to faint.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bat." I tried to shake his arm off to no avail. "You weren't there."

Suddenly everything was quiet.

The bar posed as a kind of werewolf headquarters, where only our pack (alpha- Lucian Graymark), other Downworlders, and some rare Nephilim ever came in. Seeing Bat and the others all turn towards the door, I wondered who the novelty was. If he was that interesting, he was most likely not a child of the moon. My back facing the entrance, I had to strain my neck to see. I caught one glimpse, and the blood rushed out of my face, I whirled back to the bar, sinking into my seat. Yes it was a werewolf. Squeezing my eyes shut, I prayed he hadn't seen me. I put my face into my arms on the bar counter, right when I felt a hesitant tap on my shoulder. No luck.

"Maia?"

No, no, nononono . . . The restaurant was still quiet. Don't make a scene, PLEASE don't make a scene! I live with these people!

But just as I wished for it, everyone started talking again, and I lost my witnesses. Bat removed his arm. Groaning I swiveled to face the intruder.

"What do you want, Jordan?"

He looked uneasy, but by being so, well, attractive, he pulled it off while looking cute. I stopped assessing him, not wanting him to look cute to me, and waited for an answer.

"Can I . . . talk, to you?" his expression showed that every second we stood here, by each other, he thought that I might blow up and send him away. I couldn't know whether I would or not. I half wanted to, but a part of me beckoned him closer, welcoming him. I was torn.

"Uh, yeah," I said awkwardly. "Um, Bat? Could we . . .?" Bat nodded hastily, hopping up from his chair.

"No prob, Maia dear," he ushered Jordan into the abandoned seat. "Keep it PG, you hear?" he pointed to us accusingly. Staring at Jordan, he hinted this comment was for him. "This is a family place, PLG," he shook his finger. "Keep it under control." With that he spun on his heels, and shot across the restaurant, collecting a pretty blond by the waist on the way- Wendy, a new addition to our pack. Turning back to Jordan I saw his ears had turned pink at the PG comment.

"PLG?" I asked him.

"Praetor Lupus Gang," was the only answer he offered. "Some don't like us."

I nodded once, and stared at him quizzically so he would begin. But it looked like he didn't want to.

"What? Spit it out, I don't have all day." I crossed my arms and leaned back.

"Maia," he started restlessly. "I just . . . I needed to know what was going on between us."

"Nothing," I snapped at him, tensing. "Nothing happened." I hated him for remembering.

He grimaced and looked a little lost. I felt bad, but I was so not letting him off that easy.

"That's not . . . I didn't . . . Listen Maia."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Friends, or, not friends?"

I sat in silence for a minute, pleased with his lack of confidence. "Friends," I nodded hesitantly.

He looked extremely relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. I was suddenly sympathetic. He wasn't trying to force me to understand my feelings. He just wanted to know I was good. My face softening I relaxed and sighed. "Jordan-"

"No Maia, wait. Let me finish." He groped for words. Turning to a whisper he tried again. "I . . . I love you Maia." My mouth fell open, but it was less the proclamation and more the straightforwardness that had caught me off guard. He blanched at my reaction. "No! I mean, I do," he scratched his head. "But I know it isn't what you want right now," he looked down at his shoes. "And you probably don't . . . I mean you wouldn't want . . . with me anyway . . . You know, I wasn't getting too hopeful. But you're all I have Maia." I sucked in a breath through my teeth. "And I'll do anything, whatever it takes, to make sure that no one ever hurts you, like I hurt you." He stood, staring down at me tenderly as I cringed. He took the wrong idea. "I'm sorry Maia. I'm so sorry." He took a step back. "I know I can't get you back, but you can call me, for , you know, anything you need." He tossed me a slip of paper. That was when I realized. I still had his number memorized. I stared at the slip. "I won't bother you," he finished; half smiling, thinking he was pleasing me. He wasn't, not at all. He was pulling away, getting over me. I never realized how selfish I was, in wanting him to never get over me. He half already had. I figured, if this was his plan, there probably was someone new. And then I would not be all he had.

"Goodbye, Maia. I ummm . . ." Jordan shook his head. He stood there blundering for an instant, but I was unable to respond. He turned, and walked out.

I wanted him back. I wanted him to come back in and sit down, next to me, and not leave my side, ever. But he was doing the opposite. Maybe it was because I kissed him. He'd seemed interested then. He probably felt a few feelings resurfacing. Or he was just being polite, to leave me discreetly. But he had said I was all he had? That didn't fit. I was so confused. Jordan, my mind called absently. Shut up, my conscience responded instantly. He doesn't like you.

Realizing I had been zoning out, staring off into the distance after Jordan with my mouth hanging open, I snapped it shut and spun around. I hunched over, unable to sit up, and curled around my bottle of root beer. I felt hollow inside. Examining the counter, it kept coming closer. I was falling forward, into it. I pushed myself back into the chair and pulled my knees to my chest. My eyes stung.

"Maia?" The bartender asked, surprised, pausing in his counter wiping. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, and flicked the tear off my cheek. Damn, I hated crying.