Light in the Shadows

loneliness and misery.
     
                     I plastered a smile on my face.  “The usual?” I asked, looking between them.  They both nodded.  “Head over to a table and I'll bring your order in a minute,” I said, pushing away the money Danny tried to put in my hand.  “It's on me,” I told him.
     
                     “Thanks, Maggie,” Rachel said appreciatively and blew me a kiss as she headed toward a table by the window.  Daniel grabbed a handful of napkins.
     
                      “Don't drop anything!” he joked and I threw a coffee stirrer at him.  Jake made Rachel's tomato and cheese panini and I loaded up a plate with brownies and cookies for Daniel.  For a guy in such great shape, he really did eat like a five year old with a sugar addiction. 
     
                     “Are you going to Ray's thing tonight?” Jake asked me out of left field.  I darted him a look out of the corner of my eye as I grabbed a macaroon.  Peering down at the plate, I figured I may just put Danny in a sugar coma with this junk.
     
                     “Uh, I wasn't aware there was a thing at Ray's,” I answered noncommittally.  It's not that I wasn't invited; I just knew that a lot of people stopped bothering to extend their offers of parties and get togethers anymore.  As much as I was trying to have some sort of normal life, it was slow coming.  Rachel and Daniel were the only ones I spent any sort of time with.  Massive social gatherings felt like a panic attack waiting to happen.
     
                    I had never before been this kooky social phobic shut in that I had become.  But after everything I had been through this past school year and knowing that I was still the subject of so much speculation and gossip, I had no desire to mingle.
     
                     Jake let out an exasperated snort and I looked up at him in surprise.  “What?” I asked defensively.  Jake narrowed his eyes and looked as though he wanted to shake me.
     
                     “When will you stop hiding away like a hermit?  Your life isn't over as much as you act like it is,” he said with irritation.  My eyes widened a bit in shock.  And then they narrowed into angry slits.  What business was it of Jake Fucking Fitzsimmons if I go out or not?  I did not appreciate his insinuation or attitude. 
     
                     “I don't act like my life is over!  Pardon me if I have more to do with my time than to hang out with a bunch of lame ass drunks who find beer pong to be the height of sophistication,” I hissed, grabbing the plate with Rachel's panini from Jake's hands, sending potato chips careening to floor.
     
                    I let out a growl of frustration and bent down to pick up the mess.  I wanted to scream at Jake that he needed to back off.  But I also wanted to scream at myself.  Because maybe he was right.  I had been in my designated hidey hole for months now.  I did act as though my life were over. 
     
                    But wasn't it?
     
                    Hadn't I pinned all my hopes and dreams on a boy who ultimately ripped them up and threw them away?  I had been a stupid, naive girl.  But I missed that girl too.  Because the one who had been left behind was bitter and heart broken.
     
                     Jake knelt beside me and sighed.  “I'm sorry, Maggie.  I'm just sick of seeing you mope around over that guy.  He's gone.  He's not coming back.  Don't you think it's time to start doing something more than what you're doing?” he asked me delicately, obviously not sure how I would respond to his words.
     
                  Because we never talked about Clayton Reed.  In fact, most people made it a point to avoid the topic altogether.  Well, at least to my face.  I knew his name was whispered behind my back - a lot.
     
                  But Jake was just being a friend.  And I was in short supply of those lately.  And maybe he was right...I needed to let my friends off of my emotional suicide watch.  And then I felt angry again.  This time at Clay.  For reducing me to this.  For letting me go.  For abandoning me when I had never, not once, abandoned him.
     
                  And it was that that made me get to my feet and straighten my spine.