Courage

Chapter Nineteen

[Maya]

Francesca had been subtle to me all week. I asked her if it has something to do with me being drunk and her having to take care of me, she said that wasn't it, but that it was a her own personal problem. I assured her that she could talk to me about it whenever.

I didn't like not talking to Francesca. I hated seeing her so upset, and it didn't help that I was clueless on what's making her upset. I wished I could find some way to alleviate her anxieties.

It also didn't help that she knew how to turn off her sorrowful attitude around Camila. It was nice of her, not to worry her sister. I have to give it to her; Francesca really is the master eccedentesiast.

I decided to join her on the couch today.

"Hi," I greeted.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Um, did I do or say something wrong?" I entreated. "Because if I did, please tell me so we can talk about it and I can apologize and we can go back to normal, because I hate that you don't talk to me anymore. It's terrible and it makes me feel bad." My words came out quick.

"Please tell me what I did to upset you?" I continued. It was when I realized what I was saying, when I translated my words in my head.

Translation: I like you so much that I'm pretty sure I actually love you. And it's hard seeing you upset because you mean so much to me, and your happiness means so much to me.

"Oh, Maya." She held my face in between her hands. "You didn't do anything wrong. You never do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Then why are you—"

"My own personal problem that I'd like to keep to myself," she told me.

"Well, is there anything I can do to help? If there is, please let me help. Matter fact, let me fix it." At this point, I was begging.

"Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?" she suddenly asked.

"Of course I will, sure."

She smiled her beautiful smile, and laid her head on my lap. 

Later, I put on a lemon turtle neck dress that was short sleeved. Fran had her hair in a bun and wore a mini black slip. She looked sexy. We drove in silence. I was happy I wasn't underdressed when we arrived.

When a waitress came over and took our orders, Fran finally spoke.

"Thank you, for coming out with me," she said.

"Of course. Now will you please tell me what's wrong?"

"Maya, we're friends."

"I know." Sadly.

"But I don't want to be your friend anymore," she admitted.

Now this, this really hurt me.

"You don't?" I whispered.

"No. I want to be more than that to you. Your lady love, if you will. I'm sorry, our friendship isn't enough for me, I'm sorry, I know that sounds selfish. I know, I'm selfish and you don't deserve me, and I'm not just saying that so you'll feel bad for me, I'd never try to manipulate you. I really feel that way and—"

"Franny," I cut her off and put my hand on top of hers. "I wanna be mor than friends, too ," I told her slowly.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I've never felt the way I feel about you towards anybody. And I'm not sure I ever will," I admitted.

"Neither have I, and I'm not sure I ever will, either. You mean so much to me, Maya, you don't even understand. I didn't tell you this, but after I . . . . . you know, at the fair, deep down I was hoping you'd yell at me," she said with a small smile.

"Why?"

"Because it would hurt me if I hurt your feelings."

"You've liked me since the fair?" I asked.

"I think so. I think that's why I wanted you to forgive so badly after our argument."

"Oh, um. Will you—Will you hold my hand?"

We intertwined our fingers together, I leaned toward her, she did the same. Our lips pressed against each other. She held my face in between her hands, she pulled back slowly and kissed me again.