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Juliette followed her movements, a feline smile growing on her red painted lips, “Is it true that you started a year late because you were in a coma, practically brain dead?” Her voice was slicing, loud enough to obliterate any further conversation Williams had started. The whole table shut down, but all eyes rested on Maybelle.
Her brows furrowed as she looked to Trey.
He watched Maybelle intensely, jaw ticking.
Maybelle returned her focus to Juliette whose face was too smug.
Maybelle put her fork down with the salad still clinging to the prongs and folded her hands in front of herself, “Coma, yes. Brain dead, obviously not. Just a bit of memory loss.” She said, letting a slight smile play at her lips.
“Wow, what a conversation starter,” Juliette mused, her tone drenched in sarcasm, “and didn’t your family like die? I hear it was a car accident, drunk driver I believe.”
Wow, real classy this one.
“Juliette—” Trey started but Maybelle cut him off.
“God, you really should come with a warning label.” Maybelle sighed as she took the napkin she had splayed out on her lap and thrusted it onto the table, “Thank you, Juliette. We can always count on you to molest the good-natured fun out of everything, especially our poor football boys, from whatIhear.”
Thankfully, Maybelle’s voice was steady, bemused even. But a hurricane of emotions roiled under her skin and only got worse as Juliette’s smile widened.
Apparently, Juliette had gotten the rise she’d wanted out of Maybelle. Her stomach clenched as Maybelle caught sight of the glances her way from members of a neighboring table that had silently listened in.
They glared at Maybelle with disgust, probably having only heard the part of the conversation that would damn Maybelle and not the Cheerleader Princess.
Maybelle slowly stood from the table, still feigning a smile as she held Juliette’s gaze, Maybelle peered down to find Bear was holding her hand. She squeezed it back once then dropped it as she took one more hit because why not, she already looked like the bad guy.
“And one more thing; just speak at a normal frequency, please. The screechy, girly voice is not as cute as you might think.”
Maybelle twisted to Sam then, “I’m going to the bathroom.” She informed.
Sam’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t say anything to her,of course, now he shuts up.
Maybelle spun from the table and gracefully, slowly sauntered from the main room to the hallways even though her knees wobbled, and her confidence buckled.
Maybelle managed to hold herself together long enough until she knew she was out of sight of the tables. She tried tospeed walk, but her damned heels were going to snap her ankles so without a second thought Maybelle kicked off the shoes, cheeks hot, head pounding. Stooping, Maybelle picked up the shoes and briskly escaped down the hall.
She loathed that she was actually getting worked up over what Juliette, of all people, said. But who the hell uses someone’s dead family as a tool in verbal combat? Truly desperate, despicable brats apparently.
The sad thing was, Maybelle wasn’t hurt by what Juliette said, it’s not like it really affected her, she had no idea who she even spoke of. What hurt and got Maybelle heated was the way Williams’s face had fallen at the reminder of Liam’s death, and how Trey’s gaze went from intense to distant.
What Juliette brought up didn’t hurt Maybelle, it hurt them and that pissed Maybelle off. And as much as she hated to admit it, Maybelle was embarrassed more than anything. When Juliette had put herstorythat way, it made Maybelle sound like such a charity case, a walking tragedy.
Maybelle didn’t know how she found it, only that she was now sitting on the beginning steps of a staircase at the end of a dimly lit hall of the event center. Luckily, she was far enough from the banquet that no stragglers came anywhere near her secluded corner. She didn’t know how long she sat there either, with her fingers buried in the roots of her curls, gripping, and slightly pulling for some feeling. A feeling to keep her grounded in herself as she thought back to everyone staring back at her, and the shame that expanded to near bursting in her chest.
She should have ignored Juliette; she wasn’t worth it and yet she had fed right into her poking and jeering. Ugh, she needed to go to bed and sleep off this feeling.
Maybelle reached around herself to grab her phone from her purse to order an Uber but was thoroughly disappointed when she realized her purse must still be at the table.
“Kill me now.” She groaned aloud, dropping her face into her hands.
“Always so dramatic, little Mason.”
Maybelle lifted her head to find Williams, a small smile tugging at his lips, and swinging Maybelle’s abandoned, sparkly purse higher up his large shoulder as he continued to approach.
“I am not dramatic.” Maybelle retorted, not fully believing that statement but smiling at the sight of her friend.
Williams snorted, taking the spot next to Maybelle on the steps, dropping her purse next to her and resting one large hand on Maybelle’s knee as he let out a long sigh, “You ok, Mason?”
Maybelle sidled up next to Williams and laid her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, just embarrassed.”
