Cloud Walking

name. Her brown eyes cool in a way that I hated. I needed to put an end to this rift between us. I needed to man up and share how screwed up I was over her.

    Or I could suck it all back down into the dark pit inside of me and pretend it didn't exist.

    Obviously, the latter was the most appropriate form of action.

    “Can I have the rest of your fries?” I asked her, inching my fingers toward her lunch tray. Rachel rolled her eyes but pushed her food toward me. I plucked a few of the fried pieces of my denial off her plate and stuffed them into my mouth.

    “What the heck is up with our girl?” Rachel asked in amusement, looking up from her phone and over my shoulder. I turned around and started laughing as Maggie limped her way across the cafeteria. She held her legs rigid, her face in a grimace as she finally reached our table.

    “What?” Maggie asked, her tone making it very clear she didn't want to hear whatever we had to say. She was not a happy camper.

    “Nothing.” Rachel said diplomatically as she shoved her hamburger into her mouth. Rachel didn't deal well with confrontation of any sort. Well, unfortunately for Maggie May, I had no such qualms.

    “Why are you moving like an old lady, Mags? You look ridiculous.” I chuckled, watching my other best friend shoot daggers at me with her eyes. Oh if looks could kills. She pulled a chip from her bag and chucked it at me. I dodged it easily and laughed. She really did look pathetic.

    Maggie proceeded to tell us that she had cut cross-country practice. Not once, not twice, but three times. I tried not to gape at her in surprise. If there was one thing about Mags, it was that she was unwaveringly consistent. She had her routine, her schedule. She understood that responsibility was not to be taken lightly. She was a rock of predictability.

    But now, I looked at the brown-haired girl sitting across from me as though I didn't even know her. And then I realized why she was skipping practice. Or more specifically for who.

    And the who showed up right then, looking like a James Dean reject. Clayton Reed stood at Maggie's elbow and I watched her instant transformation.

    I shot Rachel a look and noticed she had seen it as well. Her eyes found mine and for a moment, our bullshit was forgotten as we focused on our friend and the guy who seemed to have taken her over.

    To say lunch didn't go well was an understatement. This Clay dude was a complete freak. I just did not get what Maggie saw in him. He was anti-social and could barely hold a conversation. Plus he gave off angry vibes like crazy.

    I didn't like him.

    Not at all.

    And I could tell Rachel was worried about what was unfolding in front of us as well.

    When Clay left the lunch table abruptly, I couldn't help myself. “What the fuck was that?” I knew I sounded like a dick. And I could tell by the way Maggie's jaw clenched that I had said the wrong thing. But that guy was a weirdo. And I didn't like the way Mags seemed to be twisting herself into knots over him.

    Rachel's hand squeezed my knee under the table in silent warning. But I couldn't help but wish she'd keep her hand there. It felt nice. Even under the circumstances.

    “Maybe he's just shy.” I knew Rachel was trying to placate the situation. Her fingers squeezed into my skin, obviously trying to communicate the message that I should shut the hell up and let her handle it. I wanted to do whatever Rachel asked of me if it meant keeping her hand on my leg. Too bad I was always bad at listening.

    The problem was Mags and I were too much alike. Most of the time, it was a source of mutual respect and camaraderie. Right now, it meant we were about to have an explosion.

    “Or a whack job. He has that whole school shooter thing going on, you know?” I said trying not to flinch as Rachel pinched the side of my knee with her fingers. So much for biting my tongue. Now I would have both of the girls pissed at me.

    To say Maggie got kind of mad would be like me saying that hell is kind of hot. She went off. Really. She let me have it. And I couldn't do much more than stare at her in shock. Maggie never lost her shit with me. Even when I deserved it. Sure, she could be cutting and to the point. It's what I loved about her. But she had never gone full on postal before.

    And it made me angry. Like, really, really angry. Because this was happening now over some guy who wasn't worth the gunk on the bottom of her shoe. My protective instincts