Maybe?
Aiden: Not that lonely. screams silently in introvert BOGWITCH: Then kick ’em all out.
Aiden: Not that easy. She’s taking care of my Mom’s groceries. A lot of these people are part of Mom’s church. And I run into these people at the store and stuff. Small town living: can’t afford to be a dick.
BOGWITCH: Pfft. People. Who needs them?
Once again, Aiden was sure that Maggie had more reasons as to why she was so virulently antisocial . . . or at least, why she clung to the front. Because nobody who was supposedly such a curmudgeon would watch bad movies with a guild buddy or help out an injured friend. Or even have any buddies or friends. Still, she was prickly enough that he knew not to poke at the facade.
BOGWITCH: How long is this thing supposed to go on?
Aiden: Till the game’s over? I’ll tell them to go if they don’t get the hint. But it’s just loud. And I kinda stopped watching when I stopped playing—I mean, I want the Cougars to win, and all, but I don’t really care that much.
BOGWITCH: So you’re watching a program you’re not interested in, with people you don’t know anymore and whom you didn’t invite, and you can’t hide somewhere?
Well, when she put it that way . . .
Aiden: I guess?
BOGWITCH: Dude.
Aiden: I know! I know.
Aiden: But not all of us are rude AF, darlin’。 Or at least, not all of us pull it off as beautifully as you do.
BOGWITCH: I may be rude, but I’m not putting up with a bunch of bullshit from well-intentioned people who are running roughshod over my life, am I?
He winced. Dammit. She had him there.
Aiden: Touche.
Aiden: Tell me your night’s going better.
BOGWITCH: Actually, no. My internet’s fucking up, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong. I can’t type and edit on my damned phone, and I don’t want to use it as a hotspot because my booster’s not working as well either. ARGH.
Aiden straightened in his chair.
Aiden: Maybe I can help? I was essentially the I.T. guy at our hospice. I know things.
BOGWITCH: I don’t know. Every time some customer service tries to talk me through computer stuff, I usually want to throat punch someone.
Aiden snickered.
Aiden: You, wanting to throat punch someone? SHOCK. I AM SHOCKED.
BOGWITCH: Quiet, you! Doofenschmirtz gif
Then an idea of such brilliance, such beautiful elegance, hit him like a lightning bolt. He could practically hear the choir of angels emphasizing it.
Aiden: Come get me, and I’ll fix it for you. In person, no charge.
Aiden: Least I could do for the groceries and stuff anyway.
BOGWITCH: What about your insta-party?
Aiden: I’ll tell them it was an emergency, you need my help.
BOGWITCH: So you’re throwing me under the bus?
Aiden: Yes. RESCUE ME DAMMIT
BOGWITCH: lol
BOGWITCH: You really need to learn how to stand up for yourself, my dude BOGWITCH: Still . . . you really think you can fix it?
Aiden: I’m a good 80% sure.
There was a long pause. Then, to his eternal gratitude, another text.
BOGWITCH: Deal. I’ll be there soon
There was another roar as the Cougars scored, and he cheered along. Just not for the game.
Twenty-five minutes later, Deb was, needless to say, surprised when Maggie showed up. “Oh! Hi, Maggie!”
Maggie gave her a small smile. Then she looked at Aiden, giving him a small up-nod.
He got to his feet, wincing just a tiny bit at his foot. Deb flew to his side. “Do you need something?”
“I have to go,” he said, with a sheepish smile.
Deb’s face fell. “Go?”
“I promised Maggie I’d help her with her internet.”
“You’re actually leaving?” Deb’s shock was evident, as was her undercurrent of irritation.
Riley walked up, obviously sensing trouble. “What’s going on?”
“I gotta go,” Aiden repeated stubbornly. His foot was throbbing a little. He looked over at Maggie, who was standing in his open front door like the party was some kind of black hole. “Maggie? Give me a sec, let me take a little more ibuprofen.”
He hobbled to the kitchen with Riley at his side, leaving Deb in the living room. “Who’s the woman who showed up, and why are you just leaving?”
“That’s Maggie—the woman I was telling you about.” He took the ibuprofen bottle out, shook a few into his palm, and then got a glass of water.
“You did not tell me about a woman,” Riley protested.
“Bogwitch?” he reminded him. “From my online gaming thing?”
“Right. The gaming thing.” Riley frowned, then muttered, “Well. Bogwitch, huh? The name’s kinda on the nose, isn’t it?”
“Hey.” Aiden leveled a sharp look at him.
Riley held up his hands defensively. “No! No. I mean, that coat probably isn’t helping any. And . . . sorry, but she’s got kind of a Cousin Itt thing going on with the hair, doesn’t she?”
Aiden growled.
“But I bet with some makeup and maybe some clothes that . . .” Riley stopped, chuckling and shaking his head. “Okay, I’m lying. You can’t even tell what her body looks like. She’s swimming in that shit. How’s a guy supposed to know what he’s dealing with when a woman wears that?”
“I know, right?” a new voice chimed in.
Aiden and Riley spun to find Maggie standing in the kitchen doorway, obviously hearing them.
“For Christ’s sake, what was I thinking?” she added, with an amused smile. “It’s like I’m doing it on purpose or something.”
Riley actually flushed. Aiden didn’t think he’d ever seen his friend embarrassed before.
“Sorry! I, uh . . .”
She waved a hand dismissively, the smile still in place. “No worries, I literally don’t care. Aiden, you good?”
Aiden smirked back, feeling his chest warm as he suppressed a laugh. “Yup.”
“Then let’s go. That connection’s not going to fix itself.”
“But why do you have to do it now?” Deb had returned, this time flanked by Patience, who must’ve sensed drama and naturally gravitated to it. Like demons to misery.
“Because she doesn’t have internet,” he explained.
Deb rolled her eyes, then looked at Maggie. “I’m sure you can manage without internet for a weekend,” she said, then added with some reluctance, “Maybe you could hang out here. I mean, I told you I’d help you get out more. Although I know football’s not your thing.” She sounded sympathetic.
Almost.
“Maggie needs to send out things for clients. She needs to download new projects and get ready for the week. She works from home, Deb,” Aiden said, a little sharper than he intended. But he didn’t like the way Deb was pushing. It was one thing to foist her friendliness on him. It was another entirely to dismiss Maggie’s actual problems in the name of “being a good neighbor,” which apparently only applied to Aiden. “This is important.”
Deb’s mouth dropped a little, and Riley and Patience were both looking at him—and Maggie—with open speculation. To his surprise, Maggie was looking at him, similarly stunned.