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Chapter Seven

I only read the text Carys sent me when I'm walking home. It's nothing but an emoji of a winking face, which I don't know how to respond to, so I don't.

I don't know how I feel about her asking me out, and despite how badly I wish it never happened, I know I'm going to be dwelling on the idea of it for days.

It's not that I don't want to go out with her, she's stunning, but that's the issue. It's the issue with lesbian culture in general. When you dress in a way that isn't feminine, you never really know; is the woman interested in you, or is she interested how you dress?

I lot of women think they are gay, only to find out they are only attracted to women who wear clothing categorized for men. They don't really like the woman, they just like the clothes.

If I had worn a dress, I don't think she'd have given me a second look.

Still, the idea of going out with her is intriguing, and I don't want to be quick to judge her. Perhaps she is different. 

I return home, and my whole body feels numb. It's almost December, and my coat suddenly doesn't feel warm enough.

I hate the cold, but I like this time of year. I like that it is socially acceptable to wear long sleeves. I like that I can hide my body with layers upon layers of clothing and nobody bats an eye.

I walk into our apartment, and I'm greeted with the smell of burnt food. The smell is so strong, I cover my nose with my sleeve, as I walk over to the kitchen.

Maddie is not only awake, but standing over several different pans on the stove. She's in the middle of chopping vegetables as she looks over her shoulder and our eyes meet.

"Oh, hey, happy Thanksgiving."

"Thanksgiving is in three days."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm working that night, so I thought I'd celebrate today instead. Food is almost done, and I don't know what your plans are for Thanksgiving, but I made enough for the both of us. I made more than enough actually."

I walk into the kitchen, and inspect the food. The turkey, which was sitting on the counter was covered in tin foil. Lifting the foil slightly, I'm greeted with a puff of smoke, and the horrid smell of burnt meat.

"Oh, yeah, I burned the turkey. Fell asleep longer than I had intended. The skin is burnt, but it should be fine inside."

Being around so much food isn't as overwhelming when you aren't obligated to eat it. Turning down offered food is easy for me, at least, it always has been I've been doing it since I was a kid.

"Get yourself a plate and sit at the table."

Maddie and I haven't even seen each other since the coffee cup incident which was two weeks ago, and she's acting like she didn't see my arm covered in hideous bruises. I don't know if I should be thankful she isn't bringing it up, or concerned.

"I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense, I'll be offended if you don't eat something. I swear, despite the burnt turkey, I'm a good cook."

"I ate before I got here."

"What did you have?"

I've had this same conversation hundreds of times throughout my life. The same questions, these same hidden accusations. "Are you quizzing me?"

We stare at each other, and she looks at me like she absolutely doesn't believe me, which is fair, but also none of her business.

She crosses her arms, and leans against the counter. Not once does she break her eye contact, which makes me feel smaller and smaller as each second passes. "You know, you've almost been here a month, and I haven't seen you eat one thing."

"We've also only seen each other a handful of times."

She nods, "True, but your side of the cabinets are always empty, and your side of the fridge only ever has chicken breast, spinach, and apples."

"Are you monitoring my food intake?"

"Should I be?"

I frown, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I think you don't eat anything."

"Of course I eat." I feel myself getting angry, and it's strange. I never have the energy to just be angry. "I prefer to eat healthy."

"It's not healthy if that's all you eat." Her voice is suddenly accusing, and I feel like I'm being scolded by my mother. 

"I know that you're a nurse and everything, but what I do is really none of your business."

She inhales, and then sighs, as if having to calm her own anger. After a long paused between the both of us, she nods to herself, and looks back up at me, "Okay, listen, I get it. But I made a lot of food, will you at least make yourself a plate and sit at the table with me?"

"I told you I'm not hungry."

"Then don't eat it, let's just sit and talk."

I don't know why she wants to talk to me, and I pray it isn't because of the bruises on my arm. Not wanting to be too much of a bitch when we hardly know each other, I give in, and nod.

When I don't grab a plate, and instead, take a seat at the table, she makes a plate for me. I lean back in the chair, and simply watch as she sets a plate of steaming food in front of me, and then she goes back into the kitchen to make her own plate.

I don't even offer to help as she begins placing all sort of dishes on the table, like she really was setting for a thanksgiving dinner with a large group of people, despite it being only us.

The plate of vegetables she had been cutting when I walked in was last, and finally, she sat down, opposite of me.

We are silent as she cuts into the burnt turkey and even as she had the audacity to give me another piece of turkey on my plate.

Today was a long day, and the smell of all the different foods was making me nauseous. "Maddie."

"Hmm?" She takes a bite of a cut up carrot, and I feel guilty for some reason.

"What exactly am I doing here?"

She shrugs, says, "You tell me."  and goes back to her food.

I stare at her, trying to understand what the fuck that means.

"Are you trying to prove something to me?"

Again she only shrugs. 

This is ridiculous. I sigh loud enough to make her look up at me. "Listen, I know you think you're trying to do something here, but really, I am absolutely fine."

This stops her. She sets down her fork, and with both elbows on the table, she leans her chin on her hands. Her attention suddenly wholly on me, "And what is it you think I'm doing, Gansey?"

I fell right into that one. I change the subject, "We don't even know each other."

"Because you won't let us get to know each other."

I'm taken back by her accusation which, was actually slightly true. I clench my fists in my lap, I think carefully about my next words, "Are you saying you want to be friends?"

Her blue eyes are sharp on me as her lips twitch into a slight smile. "Sure. Let's be friends."

"I'm not a child."

"Never said you were."

"You're talking to me like one."

"Does that bother you?"

"Of course it fucking does."

"Then why are you acting like one?"

I gawk at her, and she ignores me. She picks up her fork, and continues to eat.

When I'm certain she's not going to explain why she said that, I defend myself by saying, "I don't act like a-"

She cuts me off, her mouth slightly full, "Yes you do."

It's hard to control my breathing, "How?"

She waves around, "You won't eat, after I kindly offered you food. I don't know what sort of manners your parents taught you, but if someone slaves in the kitchen all fucking day, and they offer you food, you take it, and you force that shit down."

"That's not-"

"Not to mention you avoid me like a little bitch."

My eyes widen, and I swallow hard. "I make sure to stay out of your way."

She points at me, "No, that's avoiding me because you're a cowardly little bitch. Be an adult and face me, or I will continue to talk to you like you're six."

I stare at her, completely at a loss for words. Once again, she ignores me, and continues to eat.

I've never had someone outright say what they think of me to my face. Sure, I should be angry, but for some odd reason, I find myself relieved. I like that she doesn't hide her feelings about me, she says them. It's refreshing, even if it is hard to hear.

I glance down at the food on my plate. Turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, and some sort of grey slop that I think is dressing but I'm not sure.

The thought of stomaching any of it makes me sick, but I slowly grab a fork, and pick up one piece of turkey. 

Turkey is a lean meat, she definitely overcooked it, so there is no risk of it being raw. It smells like turkey, and not spoiled. I've been meaning to up my caloric intake one day this week. It's been harder and harder to walk to and from work everyday without getting so dizzy I have to stop and take a few minutes to breathe.

Eating a little right now, will not change my physical appearance. It will not make me gain any weight. I have to keep telling myself that. 

I can't remember the last time I've eaten in front of someone. I wouldn't even eat in front of my own family, let alone the bossy, attractive nurse I happen to live with.

I slowly lift the piece of turkey up, and take a bite. I refuse to look at Maddie, but I know she saw, and I can feel her smiling.