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“You know Egypt was ruled by a monarchy until 1953 but was officially recognized as the Republic of Egypt until 1958, when—”
“Ok, nobody cares Cam-moron!” Juliette guffawed over Sam’s already uncomfortable interruption.
Alrighty then, Regina George.
Sam shrank, more like melted away in his spot while everyone else looked ready to scurry under the table and Maybelle wouldn’t be too far behind. She twisted in her seat to face Sam as she put a hand on his shoulder.
“I care, Sam. You can tell me all about Egypt but first I am very curious to hear what brought Gracie and her family to Egypt.” Maybelle let her hand sweep reassurance across Sam’s back as he sat up straighter with her support. The tension at the table loosened as Gracie smiled sweetly.
“My dad is a very skilled cardiologist and took up a position there for a few years!” Gracie explained. Maybelle nodded making vile eye contact with Juliette while Williams picked up the conversation where they had left off.
He turned to Bear, adoration apparent on his face, “How did a quiet guy like you find such a cool girl?”
Maybelle leaned over, detaching herself from the silent war happening between her and Juliette, so she could get a good view of Bear’s upturned features, framed by his now combed and well-trimmed facial hair.
Bear shot Gracie a side long glance that had her giggling, “She asked if she could try braiding my beard at a party.”
Williams almost spit out the drink he had been chugging, “Come again?” He asked through choked breaths.
Maybelle’s eyes instinctively jumped to Trey’s and his intentional smirk he gifted her told her he remembered that night too.
Hadn’t that only been a week ago?
Gracie was laughing uncontrollably at Williams’s reaction while Bear smiled, his shaking shoulders the only testimony of his mirth.
Bear and Gracie, they were together, a week wasn’t long enough to know every bit and piece of a person and yet here they were— together.
And by the way Bear’s large arm was slung over the back of Gracie’s chair, the way she smiled longingly up at him, or the way his hand would find hers under the table, holding tentatively, sweetly to one another, in their own world, they weren’t playing friends, being cautious of what they didn’t know yet.
They were just together.
At the thought Maybelle realized she hadn’t looked away from Trey and he was still staring at her.
The eye contact had drawn on far longer than what could be considered a platonic glance between two friends, now it was nearing a point of seeing inside, peering through the very depths of who they were, and Maybelle was under no inclination to turn away.
She wanted to see everything that forest of beautiful green had to offer. She wanted to know every good and every charred part of this man’s soul.
She would— she had to.
She didn’t look away, and neither did Trey.
“So, Marybelle.” Juliette’s voice broke in, shattering the trance and had Maybelle white knuckling her fork.
But her eyes remained on Trey’s, refusing to let Juliette pilfer this moment fully or allow her own gaze to follow the pattern Juliette’s finger drew along Trey’s bicep, “How did you meet everyone here?”
Maybelle finally tore her eyes from Trey, mourning the lost connection as she looked up at Juliette through lowered lashes.
“It’s Maybelle,” She corrected making sure to fill her tight-lipped smile with all the sour sweetness she could bear before continuing, “and Trey, Noah, and I went to high school together, then I lived with Trey and his mom for a few weeks before I got settled here.”
Juliette didn’t deserve the whole sob story so that is where she stopped but by the sneer in Juliette’s eyes, that was not where Juliette planned to stop.
“Really?” She exclaimed, “You lucky girl, I would give anything to sleep next to Trey.” She drawled as her finger trailed up Trey’s shoulder.
Maybelle felt a twinge of satisfaction at the way Trey bristled with the exploring touch.
“I bet you would.” Maybelle quipped, coolly grabbing her cup of water, and taking a sip. Williams cut in then, trying to steer the conversation away from Maybelle which she greatly appreciated. Something about football or what not, Maybelle didn’t listen.
She retained eye contact with the woman across the table as she lifted a fork full of salad to her lips.
