It's finally here! You guys don't know how hard I worked on this and, even if I still think is pretty weak and a rework would happen in a few years, I wanted to share this before I go mad.
First, I want to thank the amazing Edereth for helping me go through this. She had been there since the conception of the story and betaed every chapter for me. She lived every step with me and put up with my writer blocks like a champ. Thanks!
Second, this story is based on the wonderful thealeksdemon's wonderful art! (tumblr links in my profile) Seriously, one glance and I got addicted to their art! Go check it out!
I plan to post every week, but knowing me I would probably post everything in one go. I'm not a patient person.
From the moment they reached puberty, Marianne knew she was different from her sister. Dawn, always the merriest and prettiest of them all, attracted all stares and sighs of adoration. With her fair skin and bright blue eyes, her hair shining like the sun always styled effortlessly like those actresses of the TV, Dawn gained the title of "Princess".
It really wasn't an issue with her, she really liked her own rare goldish brown eyes and dark maroon hair. It was her own kind of beauty, her father always said when she once asked why people seemed to be enraptured with her younger sister's looks. She liked what she saw in the mirror, how the clothes embraced her body without effort, how her face didn't need an ounce of make up, as lots of her classmates seemed to need.
It wasn't as if she cared about looks, too. She was aware that both sisters were blessed with natural beauty, but they weren't braggy about it. Still, they were popular.
It was that popularity what called the attention of the most popular boy of her school, Roland.
He was what made all girls sigh and whine and cry and whisper on the hallways. Roland was always the man sought for the sports team and the first picked in PE class, the winner of the title of Spring Ball King two years in a row (she couldn't believe it already has been two years since he came to her school). He was, what you call, perfect.
And he chose her. In fact, they met on the Spring Ball from two years ago, when she won the title of Queen and stood beside him on the stage set up in the gym. He had called her "beautiful" and "worthy of being Queen" and she immediately fell over heels for him. It was perfect, the power couple, and everyone parted their ways from the King and the Queen wherever they went.
She felt so beautiful and so full of life, like at last she was valid and fit into the school. She never felt jealous of her sister, but the feeling of being left out… it had been always somewhere in the back of her mind. But now she was Queen and was respected…
Until that Fateful day when all went sour.
She found out that Roland not only cheated on her, but had been doing so since almost the beginning of their relationship and everyone knew it but her. She found out when rumours and whispers of her boyfriend with his new lover floated to her ears, accompanied with snickers and comments about her… inability to satisfy her own lover.
She learned the hard way that teenagers were cruel and cowards and took every opportunity to bring down someone they feared. That same day she discovered what her year and a half boyfriend was doing while he was supposedly "studying", and she also found out that a rumour about her virginity and inability to comply with her "girlfriend duties" had been brewing for a while.
When Dawn found her crying under her covers back at their house she didn't have to ask what was wrong, as a friend told her about the rumours when her sister ran home in the middle of the lunch break.
But there was nothing that could help her dear older sister. Her love was crushed by a selfish prick and the whole school laughed behind her back, even in front of Dawn's face. Roland still remained as the heartbreaker of school, the "hopeless romantic bachelor" every girl wanted to date, to prove their value, to do what the so called Queen wasn't able to do.
When Marianne came back a week later, she came back stronger. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," she used to repeat to herself when she thought that no one heard her. The former Queen started to use make up, dark eyeshadow on her eyelids, a smokey eye that made her natural gold shade stand out even more than before. She cut her hair into a daring pixie cut and wore clothes that had nothing to do with her former "modest and princess-ish" style.
She was no longer the Queen, only Marianne. She became even more different , an outcast. People that didn't get to witness the whole "Roland misunderstanding" usually asked Dawn how they were even related. That how on earth the girl that got detention three days in a row for fighting and always wore dark colours and had that dangerous glint in her eyes could be the older sister of the new refined Queen of the school.
When time passed and her last year of school came, Marianne was alone as always. No one dared to get near her; and even if the rumours about what happened with the King, warped and far from what really happened as they were, stopped and faded with time, she was still the pariah of the school. The fallen Queen, some dared to say. But those words couldn't get to her, the skin too thick with scars of the past and her walls around her heart so high to let any damage pass through.
But inside she always felt less . She trusted no one, never let herself be swayed by any kindness showed to her. It wasn't like she was cruel with people, but simply she didn't take the time with pleasantries and smiles, not even fake ones. Dawn was the only one she cared enough to be herself with, and maybe Sunny, her sister's best friend from childhood; but apart from them she maintained a strong face, cold as stone, all day around.
It was when winter was ending, shushed whispers about this year's Spring Ball theme falling on her deaf ears, when she learned about the new librarian temporary substitute.
Marianne overheard it from some girls walking down the hallway to the cafeteria. They were laughing and snickering about how ugly and old and so not-sexy he looked, the disappointment clear in their voices.
Horny bitches, the former Queen thought, but didn't say anything about it. Maybe it was that puberty was slow on her, but she wasn't as hormone-driven as her peers. She usually thought back at what happened with Roland, never with regret or shame but with anger. He daily pressured her to let their relationship go further but she never felt like it was right . She never felt ready or that "tingle in her tummy", as the others girls said it was, like the world was spinning around him, or like her heart was in it when he pushed his tongue on her mouth.
She did have butterflies on her stomach, though. That's what made her feel worse and what fueled her anger. She felt dirty for liking such a shallow boy that only wanted to brag in front of his buddies how he screwed the school's Queen. To think that she almost gave into his desires… Fortunately, it all ended in time and she was saved from making the mistake of her life. And for that, she was grateful.
Thinking about that, Marianne completely forgot about the new librarian for the rest of the day. It wasn't until the following week, when the Director decided that the best punishment for sending two guys to the infirmary was to help sort the new books that arrived in the Library, that she remembered what those girls said.
Those idiots deserved what came to them, but noooo. No one wants to hear that the most promising duo in their football team were sneaking in the girl's changing room! She was grumbling to herself on her way to the Library, one hand mindlessly scratching the new bandage on her left arm. She fought with nails and teeth, angry at those boys' shameless smirks when they told her that no one would believe her.
Well, at least they won't be go running around spying girls for a while , the thought almost made her swollen cheek hurt less.
Classes were already over when she found her way into a barely visited section of the main building, where the janitor storage was and also the place she was dreading the most right now- the Library. She didn't have anything against books or culture, she used to read a lot when she was younger; but when she was with Roland it was like her time wasn't hers and he consumed every little bit of free time she managed to have after finishing tons of homework and house chores, so she found herself reading less and less… And when her time was hers again, all she could see was romance everywhere.
It didn't matter what kind of story she was reading, even if it was a mystery book or a thriller one with lots of guts and blood, there was always a helpless heroine falling head over heels with a stupid man. A damsel in distress, a useless sidekick, an at-first-strong-woman-but-that-when-falls-in-love-becomes-useless protagonist. It was always the same thing, always with the stupid thing about love and butterflies in the stomach and "everything is good at the end because they love each other".
If she was a better at writing she would write a story with zero romance and strong female lead characters.
"Hello?" she called when she finally pushed open the heavy doors of the library. There was no one here, big surprise, as students in this wretched place preferred first hand smooching before actual studying and reading. "There's someone here? I'm the detention kid," she made a face at her words, and yelped when a sting on her bruised cheek hurt more than she expected. "I'm here to he-"
"No shouting, kid." A deep voice said from behind her. She yelped again and turned to see a really tall man standing mere inches from her.
She later laughed at herself for being afraid, but in the moment she didn't expect someone behind her nor such a deep voice. Wasn't the librarian an old woman…?
"Who are…?" and then, realization came to her eyes. "Oh! It's true! You are the substitute librarian! I completely forgot that the old lady from before had retired!"
The tall man in front of her cocked his head, slowly blinking his piercing blue eyes. She looked back at him, straining her neck to even get a glimpse of his face, her height only managing her to get her face at the level of his shoulders. For a few brief moment they looked at each other, Marianne expecting an answer.
She sighed and stepped back, still not having her answer. Awkward…, she thought.
Now that there was some space between her and the man she could hear the mean words of those girls from last week. Ugly, old and not-sexy, huh? The weird, silent man was not ugly in her honest opinion. Old? Yeah, maybe. He was definitely older than her, but by how many years? He had that kind of permanent scowl that made it difficult to discern someone's age, but if she had to bet her money on it she would say he was on his mid-thirties. A small stub adorned his pointy chin, making him look even older than that, and a deep scar on the left side of his jaw made the librarian look like a dangerous person, and the ones scattered around his face only made it worse.
He had small squared glasses on, barely hiding sky blue eyes that looked at her with the same intensity, making her wonder what he saw in her bruised face. His hair, dark as a moonless night, was brushed back with gel or something like that, but a few strands of hair had decided to escape their confinement and were swinging in front of his eyes.
But ugly? She thought again. She wouldn't qualify him as "ugly", only maybe too old and tired looking, but he wasn't "ugly" at all. He wasn't all smiles and sparkles as Roland, but-
He wasn't Roland . Oh my God. Was that school's ideal of beauty Roland? The mere thought made her flinch.
"So," the man said taking a step back and putting even more space between them. His blue eyes seemed clouded now, like if a bad thought was passing through his mind. No wonder, Marianne thought, I'm the troubled kid. No one wants to spend time with a pariah. "You are the kid who's going to help me with these?" He pointed to a big pile of brand new books with a long pale finger.
"My name is not "kid", sir." She answered and tried to cross her arms, but remembered too late that her left one was injured. The young girl made a face at that.
"And how may I call you then?" he arched an eyebrow, but looked down to her bandaged arm with a worried glint in the blue.
"Marianne," she simply said, feeling a little self-conscious under his scrutinizing glance. Her clothes weren't the best, now scratched and tattered after the fight. It was a shame, she really liked this black tights with little stars on them.
"All right, kid," the man nodded and the girl felt her eye start twitching. Hadn't he heard? She liked her name very much.
"Sir, I said my name is-"
"I heard you well the first time, kid ," as he approached the books to be sorted, he gave her a sideways glance, clear amusement on his face. "But you didn't have the courtesy to ask for my name."
She wanted to punch him in the face.
"And what's your name then, sir ?" the venom on her voice was obvious. He smirked and took the first pile of heavy looking books, his big hands seemingly able to carry a lot of weight.
"You can call me Bog, Marianne," suddenly her name was the last thing she wanted to hear from this idiotic, stubborn man. "And now it's time to work. I look forward to working with you all the time it takes to organize the library."
Hah? Marianne looked around her at the mess the place was. This wasn't on the debriefing the Director gave her. She only had to help put the books on their places.
A loud sound startled her, realizing later that it was just Bog dropping the books on the table beside her. He made a gesture to them and kept the little smile on his lips as he stared her down through his little black squared glasses.
Marianne clenched her right hand, the uninjured one, repressing her escalating need to punch this man until she erased that patronizing smile from his lips.