Loving Maya

Dinner With Lilly

I make my way into the college campus, feeling tired and fatigued. Even with Mary out of the house, I couldn't sleep.

The idea of her presence, accompanied by the fear that we may have been reckless to trust her, kept me awake all night.

I was able to finish one of my assignments, so that's an upside.

As I approach my lecture hall, my phone rings. I swing my backpack to the front and find the phone in the small pocket on the side.

"Hi, mom."

"Hi, baby. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, how are you?"

"Ah I'm just missing my boy. I still can't believe I spent Thanksgiving without you. Angie spent the entire day pouting."

"Is she upset with me?" I smile sheepishly.

"Yes," mom chuckles, "when you come for Christmas, you better bring her a truckload of gifts. You are coming for Christmas, right?"

"Yes, of course."

I just had some things I needed to deal with this time.

"Nevermind all of that. How were Alice and Alex?" She asks, referring to Maya's parents.

"Surprisingly calm. I mean, I never saw or spoke to them but Maya said they didn't have any problems."

There's no reply from the other line and my words are met with silence.

"Mom?"

"That's a relief." She sighs softly. "That's a huge relief."

"Yeah. Uhm, mom, I have to get to class."

"Okay, goodbye, baby."

"Bye, mom." She ends the call and I put my phone back into my backpack.

I can't tell her anything now. It'll only stress her out and we'll be out of this city by the weekend. I won't see Maya again and my family will never have peace.

I'll deal with this.

***

Maya's POV

"Zoe, what do you think they should do?" Peyton takes a bite of her hamburger.

"I'm with Max on this one." Zoe replies. "I think they should go with his plan."

The plan in question, as per Max's insistence, is that we dig up everything we can on Mary. That we have another investigation, this time focusing on her and not her father.

I'm talking phone calls, visits, friends, even her aunt. Anyone that could prove to us that she's not lying and we're not putting ourselves in danger.

"What did your mom say?" Bianca asks.

"My mom?" The question catches me off guard.

"You didn't tell her?"

Of course not.

If I even so much as mention Mary Coleman and San Francisco in the same sentence, my mother will be here to take me away faster than I can say 'no'.

"I haven't," I shake my head, "in fact, I don't plan on telling her. Have you told your parents?"

Instead of replying, Bianca looks down and digs a fork into her fruit salad.

"Of course." I sigh.

"Well, we can't keep this a secret from them. What if something happens?"