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“What?” Maybelle asked suddenly feeling like she did something wrong.
Annalise approached a few steps, an accusatory finger pointing at Maybelle, “What have you been doing to get so good in a short amount of time, Maybelle. You could not have gottenthis good in just the short time I have to work with you, hun. So, spill, what’s the secret?”
Maybelle’s mouth went a little dry, but she took a quick inconspicuous glance around the room, down the hall and in the kitchen to make sure Chelsea was out of ear shot, “I have been going on walks. Not a big deal.” She said with a shrug she hoped appeared nonchalant.
The southern belle quirked a brow at Maybelle, urging her to continue.
Maybelle heaved a long-irritated sigh, “I have been walking the neighborhood at night after Chelsea goes to bed or to work. It really is not a big deal though. I have been walking great!”
Annalise did not look convinced.
Instead, she grabbed Maybelle’s hand and sat with her on the small sofa against the wall.
“Honey, I noticed you wincing a bit more than usual today.” Maybelle grimaced remembering the spill she took the other night when she couldn't catch her footing in time after tripping over a curb. Her knees were all scuffed up and joints a little sore but how was she going to get better if she didn’t push herself?
“I’m fine, I tripped over a curb. That’s all.”
Annalise shook her head, intensity filling her movements and eyes, “No, no, hun. That is not ok. You are healing, you are growing. You cannot do this alone especially out on the streets of San Francisco at night. Do you have any self-preservation instincts? What if you fell and hit your head? You’re not in the most peak condition to come out on top of an injury like that.”
Annalise paused, took a deep breath then continued, “You are awesome for pushing yourself so hard. I am seriously impressed. But there is a difference between pushing your limitsand just being stupidly reckless.” Her southern accent was really making an appearance with her hard, serious tone.
Maybelle looked away from Annalise, she wanted to throw her hands in the air and yell, but Annalise didn’t deserve that, “I won’t spend another second confined to a bed or a house because I can’t function on my own, Anna.” Maybelle blew out a frustrated breath.
“I’m not expecting you to but give yourself time. If you don’t, you’ll end up doing something else that’s gonna take away all that progress you’ve worked so hard for, or worse. Take away the ability to ever be able to do things on your own ever again.”
Annalise rose from the cushions, slinging her bags of equipment over her shoulder, “Just be careful, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Annalise left Maybelle alone huffing and puffing. Annalise did not understand, had no comprehension for what this had been like for her.
Nobody did.
She was not going to sit by anymore letting life run on by while she slept. She wanted to live and that is what she would do.
Maybelle stood from the couch, she needed to change and get washed up but when she entered her bedroom to grab a change of clothes, she immediately halted at the sight of the small black journal sitting on her desk, untouched since the night she pulled it from that bag of items Trey had collected for her.
Maybelle plucked up the book and laid herself out across her mattress, opening to a random page near the end.
Dear Future Husband,
Exciting news, I am graduating high school in a few months. It will be nice to get out here, start anew. I created a facade for myself here at Harbor High that I don’t entirelyenjoy. I’m quiet, I’m lonely… I’m like a ghost that just sort of floats around contributing nothing to the world around it.
Given, I did it to myself but when we first showed up to San Fran, I was happy to be a ghost, just dust that fell through the cracks going unnoticed. With everything that had happened before, I was happy to be invisible, but I miss what I used to be.
I miss sports, I miss people, I miss life. I don’t know how I will be able to ever change though, I think I am stuck no matter how much I wish that wasn’t true. I think my life is altered completely by the past and there is nothing I can do about it.
Theatrics and my dramatic depressing thoughts aside, I did start applying for a few colleges. There isn’t a specific school I want to go to, or anything I specifically want to learn but I applied, and I was accepted to a few of my chosen. One of them being Liam’s school. Check the back of the book!
Love,
Maybelle Mason
Now seriously disappointed and depressed, Maybelle opened to the back of the book to find a few letters, a couple of them from schools Maybelle didn’t recognize but one she did.
An acceptance letter to UCLA, Trey’s school.
Hmm— and the plot thickens.
Maybelle turned back to the sad page she had just read.
