"Why were you so afraid I'd be angry?" Maktov finally asked, after they'd gotten their orders. Around them, the diner bustled with life and aromas. Groups of seniors hunched over their breakfast platters, cups of coffee standing sentry. Waitstaff bustled in and out of the kitchen, balancing plates heaped high with pancakes or omelettes or other breakfast food. Little kids, too young to begin school, squealed over crayons that were more wax than color. The scent of syrup and coffee and something that was explicitly 'diner' hung in the air.
The chaos of the setting bled away for Thalia, as she swallowed and glanced at Maktov. He hadn't looked up from his pancakes, which he buttered with precise movements, covering every inch. She watched his hands as they worked, eyes tracing his fingers and the blurry shade around him. Only his soft, pointed cough tore her attention away.
"It's..." Thalia sighed, her fingers clasped at her napkin, fiddling at the fabric. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what was too much to tell him. He was a peer, a classmate, not a friend she could unload her internal baggage on.
"It's what?" Maktov pressed, gently. He watched her carefully. Her fingers flexed and tangled in the napkin, her shoulders hunched the longer she struggled to answer. Maybe he shouldn't have pressed.
Even at the softness of his voice, Thalia couldn't bring her eyes to his face. Why should it matter if he was a friend or a classmate? He asked, why not answer?
"Taryn's father wasn't a nice guy," she sighed, picking up a fork and knife to cut her own pancakes. She sliced her food up erratically, not in the equal squares Maktov managed. Even that irked her, a little. Why couldn't she be so skilled?
"Did he hurt you?" Even to Maktov, his voice sounded far away from him. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the answer was 'yes.' It wasn't like the man was still around, as far as it seemed.
"He didn't hit me," Thalia sighed, knowing physical battering was usually the first thought. The things that man did to her still hurt, deep in her chest. She ignored the throb in her chest by grabbing the strawberry syrup and focusing on the semi-opaque liquid as it smeared over her food. "He did a lot of other shit, though. Accuse me of cheating if I went out with friends. Get mad when things went wrong and he'd yell or insult me. He'd hurt himself during fights, calling himself stupid and punching himself, or threaten to stop paying bills since he had a full-time job while I went to college. I walked on eggshells around him and tried to predict what would set him off, so I could avoid it."
The words hung in the air, vibrating through his ears. The syrup suddenly felt too sweet, too thick on his tongue. Thalia still refused to look up at him as she began eating her food. She moved slow, though, as if she wasn't really hungry. All he could think to say was a paltry, "I see."
"He's been gone for awhile and I got therapy." Thalia gave a half-shrug, as if all of this wasn't a big deal. As if there wasn't a pain in her chest or some residual anxiety pumping through her veins. "He went to prison for some really bad shit and never contacted us again. Not that I'd let him near Taryn after what he ended up doing."
Maktov inclined his head, eyes narrowing. Something unspoken hung heavy in the air. The ambient noise of the diner filled the silence between them. No one seemed to notice the heavy atmosphere around the two.
"Did his crime have to do with kids?"
Finally, Thalia looked up at him and her stormy expression confirmed his thought. His stomach clenched with a concoction of anger and disgust. Under it all, there was a twinge of pity for Thalia. Her eyes, red-rimmed from tears she tried to hold back, went back to her plate.
Again, he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say. She probably heard it all before. His lips bunched up to one side of his mouth as he considered their past interactions. Had he done something to make her feel he was like that man? "I'm sorry if I've seemed... unduly harsh."
Thalia hummed in reply, neither a thanks or a reprimand. Just a sound in response to him. "You obviously have experiences I can't begin to understand. It is what it is."
"I suppose so," Maktov replied, eyes still on Thalia. He slowly went back to his food, chewing thoughtfully as he considered their respective situations.
They returned to their meal, neither saying anything else. The quiet was filled with diner chatter, the clack of utensils and plates, the loud slam of the restroom doors as people went in and out. But neither heard it over the sounds of their own thoughts.
---
They didn't go back to her house right away. Instead, at Maktov's request, Thalia drove them out to the nearby beach. The sun seared from its spot at high noon, baking the sands as the waves lapped at the beach. Gulls called overhead, swooping to the beach to peck at fast food litter.
The two walked in silence for a time, sand crunching under their shoes and a breeze caressing their faces. Only small talk had passed between them, since the heavy topics unfurled at the diner. Thalia wondered if she made things awkward between them. Wouldn't have been the first time she opened up to someone, just for them to shut down.
She chewed at the inside of her cheek, frustration with herself swelling. Why'd she have to tell him? There were plenty of reasons for her to be emotional and worried about making him mad.
"Ah, here we are." Maktov's voice pulled Thalia from her swirl of inner thought. He jogged through the sand, the tattoo of crunching sand almost melodical, to his apparent destination.
A huge boardwalk pier bisected the beach. On top, a world of vendors, restaurants, and even small carnival rides populated the boards. Even for a weekday, it bustled with bodies. Gulls congregated near the far edges, where the support poles stood in the water, eating fries graciously thrown to them. Occasionally, a fish would surface, snarfing down a wayward fry lost by a bird.
Maktov didn't make for the stairs that led up, however. He made a beeline for the shadowy underpier. Curious, Thalia followed him, somewhat concerned about falling debris but too intrigued to stop.
As her eyes adjusted, she realized she didn't have to worry about suddenly wearing fried dough. Huge tarps expanded along the width of the pier, catching garbage and fallen food. What surprised her further was the archway where the pier met the land. The opening led to what looked like a darkened shopping center, dimly lit with strings of light and strange crystals glowed. The longer Thalia looked, the more her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
People thronged the small walkways, from store to store. Some sipped at treats, others were laden with bags. An assortment of stores squatted here, beneath the busy street overhead: grocery, convenience, clothing, magic, book, seemingly specialty boutiques.
"What's this?" Thalia's eyes widened, stepping closer to the underground market.
"A shopping plaza for people more inclined to the dark," Maktov answered, a bit of amusement in his voice. He shoved his glasses up on his head as he walked further in.
Thalia dallied by the threshold, still standing in the shadowed sands beneath the pier. "Is it okay for me to be here?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Maktov stopped, turning to look at her. His shoulders tensed, bracing for disappointment. Bracing to hear her wonder if it was safe for her or listen to some secondhand horror story she'd heard, from a friend of a friend, about any number of nocturnal people.
"I don't want to intrude into a safe space meant for others." Thalia had seen Taryn's frustration enough times when someone infringed on non-binary or LGBT+ spaces. She'd learned to be careful, just tromping into somewhere new and fascinating.
"You're not intruding." Maktov's lips twitched with a relieved smile. At least her concerns weren't rooted in biased thinking. Extending his hand to her, he added reassuringly, "I'm inviting you."
She stared at his proffered hand, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. It'd be a lie to say she didn't want to explore the area. Especially with him. But she couldn't shake the worries. Was he taking pity on her? Was he just dragging her along to errands he had planned to do? Did he even want her there?
With effort, she shoved her concerns to the back of her head and took his hand. As his fingers clasped around her palm, and he led her further into the dark, Thalia couldn't still the excited thrumming of her heart.
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