Mackie, May I?

Mackie, May I? Chapter 8

A/N--Happy Mardis Gras everyone! And if you're unlucky enough to not celebrate or even know what Mardis Gras is, Happy Tuesday :)  This chapter is dedicated to ChloWillow for the AMAZING cover she made me that I've posted over to the side! 

“What?!” Carly screeches across the table at me.

It’s a few days after the whole Cameron episode in the student union, and I’m just now getting the opportunity to tell her about the run in.  Since I’ve been busy with work and she’s been stuck babysitting her baby cousins, we haven’t gotten a chance to see much of each other.  So when she texted me about an hour ago asking me to go to dinner with her at the Mexican restaurant up the street, I couldn’t have answered, “yes” faster.

So now here we are, a basket of chips and a bowl of queso in front of us, and she’s looking at me like I’m crazy for not telling her sooner.  Which, a few weeks ago, would have been definite crazy behavior for me.  I always go to her when I’m feeling awful, and although I would’ve gone to her first after he showed up, Jesse saw me first.

And I guess he just took the haste of telling her out of me.

After swallowing my bite of chips and melted cheese, I tell her, “Keep it down, okay?  But yeah.  He basically stalked me to the SUB and then sat at my table and told me he’s still in touch with Ted.”

“So Ted’s still in jail, then?” she asks, seeming a bit more relieved that my ex hasn’t been bailed out as well.

I nod, thanking God that he is or else I’d probably still be cooped up in bed.  “Yeah.  He got seven years, so he’s still definitely going to be in there for two more years.  Which gives me more than enough time to graduate and move somewhere he’ll never find me.”

“Thank Yeezus,” she says jokingly, although by the tone in her voice I know she’s spooked by Cameron showing up.  “But seriously babe, next time tell me when it happens, okay?  Don’t keep all of that shit cooped up.”

“I know,” I say apologetically.  “I was going to text you, but Jesse saw me crying right after it happened and…helped me, I guess.  I don’t know.”

“Oh?” she asks, her voice curving upwards.  “Now I’m intrigued.  What happened with that?”

My cheeks burn at what she’s insinuating.  “Nothing,” I insist, but it’s totally obvious that something did, in fact, happen.  In an attempt to salvage things I say, “He came and laid down with me, but nothing more than that happened.”

“Oh my god!” she squeals happily, “Seriously?  You let him come and get in bed with you?”

“What did I say about keeping the voice down?” I hiss quietly, hating the number of heads that turned to look at us during her outburst.  As she shrinks into herself and murmurs a quiet apology, I explain, “Yes, I did.  And I know it’s super weird, but he’s not freaking me out as much as usual.  Not after the other night at Fred’s.”

She can barely contain her smile.  “Good Lord Mackie,” she says with a giggle, shaking her head in disbelief.  “I can’t fucking believe all of this.  It’s so exciting!”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I can’t help but gush back, “I know.  He’s so nice, and it almost scares me.  I mean, what guy is that perfect?”

“One who obviously likes you!” she responds.  “It’s seriously the cutest thing too, ‘cause he’s so quiet and guarded around me when you’re not there, but the moment you get there he’s a new person.  I love it.”

I ask her curiously, “How often are you around him when I’m not?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “It’s only been a handful of times.  The two of them were in the lobby the other day while you were at work so I went and hung out with them.  And then there was time after you overheard me and Fred talking, like the afternoon after that or something, when Fred invited me to go with them to get ice cream.”