Hey guys!
I'm back and I know I haven't updated in a while, but I'll just give you warning in advance that I may not be able to update sometime in the next couple of months since exams are coming up and I have to study for those. Of course I will still try to get a chapter up regardless (miracles can happen) but I just wanted to warn you beforehand about a prolonged absence in case it should happen.
I'm posting a three in the morning again so I'll have more time to check for editing mistakes tomorrow, but I felt that I had to get something up for you guys.
Reviews:
Livia- I was planning on going as far as graduation with the story, yes. If you guys are still interested in it by that time, it's the least I can do :) thanks for the review!
Guest- Yeah, we will figure out what went on with Riley and Stanley soon. Glad you like the story and thanks for reviewing!
Thank you for everyone else who reviewed. I feel like I don't give enough credit to y'all for still reviewing despite my crappy updating. Just know that I appreciate the support to all ends, and thank you for all of your patience!
Anyway, that's it. Read on and I hope you enjoy :)
Marina
It's going to rain.
That's the first thing I notice as I step outside of the school. The clouds are dark and the sky beyond is a murky grey, casting everything in a dull glow. The dreary day seems to be reflected in the unusually quiet atmosphere around me as hundreds of high school students continue on their subdued journey to whatever transportation they take home. I don't like rainy days either, but I can't deny that it's peaceful.
"You haven't even sold any tickets yet?!"
A familiar voice breaks the reverie and I notice several heads turn in the direction of the sound. I let out a tired breath. It has been a while since Maren and Stanley actually argued for real. I should have known the peace would be short-lived.
"Sorry to tell you this, Sweetheart, but some people have other things to do." Stanley's voice is only slightly quieter, but it carries better due to the deeper tone. I look behind me and my eyes find Stanley before Maren. They're walking toward the parking lot like the rest of us, but on the grass instead of the walkway, to avoid the crowd I'm guessing. I start to make my way over as Maren stops, causing Stanley to reluctantly halt his journey too.
"Better things to do?" Maren repeats. "This was your bright idea in the first place. We've had a week so far, you've had plenty of time to start."
Stanley sighs, for once looking tired instead of cocky or smug. "Look, if we do what I have planned, we can have all the tickets sold by tonight." He replies, completely ignoring Maren's reprimand.
I start to wonder what his plan is until I get bumped from the side, sending me stumbling a few steps. Before I can decide if I'm at fault or not, two hands grab my shoulders as if to steady me. I was almost recovered anyway so they don't help much in the way of balance, but when I look up to see they belong to Joseph, I no longer care. He's looking over my head and in the direction I assume the person who ran into me went. I'm surprised by the serious expression on his face.
"He didn't even apologize." Joseph says, more to himself than me.
I shrug, indifferent. The collision was probably equal parts my fault anyway due to my lack of attention. "It's okay. On the bright side, you had some good timing." I say, referring to his intervention.
His smile is a more familiar expression, and it quickly appears, bright as always. "Only the best for Her Majesty." He teases. I roll my eyes and he chuckles, dropping one of his hands from my shoulder and placing the other on the back of my neck while putting a quick kiss on my head. He does it so casually, but it doesn't lessen that flipping feeling in my stomach.
"Hey." He greets as his thumb rubs a gentle circle on the back of my neck. A smile has crept onto my face without me knowing. I can only hope my expression is as casual as his gestures.
"I think the conversation is past the point of 'hey'." I point out.
"Never."
I let out a small laugh at his lopsided, though slightly defiant grin. He looks like he might say more until he hears the arguing going on to his left. He sees who it is and arches a confused eyebrow at me.
"Maren is mad because Stanley hasn't started selling his tickets yet." I explain in response to his silent question.
"He hasn't?" Joseph says in surprise, looking over at them again. Stanley is saying something now, but it seems their conversation has become more civil because I can't clearly hear his words. "Now I'm mad." I highly doubt his words are accurate considering the slight smile at the corner of his lip. Joseph puts a hand on my back, the gentle pressure guiding me to follow him as we make our way toward the argument.
Stanley sees us coming over Maren's shoulder and he gives us a lazy wave. "You never started selling tickets yet?" Joseph asks, taking away his hand when we stand facing him.
"You haven't?" John suddenly joins our group, making Stanley sigh at the amount of accusations he's getting hit with.
"No." He admits. "Now before you get all wound up, I have a plan." He says carefully, raising his eyebrows at Maren in way that makes it clear that she's already shut down all of his attempts of explanation. She stares back at him with the same expression.
"Enlighten us." She says flatly.
Stanley rolls his eyes. "Okay, how many books of tickets have you guys sold already?" He asks. After a moment of thought, we all answer with our respective amounts. Turns out we've sold 74 booklets between all of us, excluding Stanley of course. It's actually pretty impressive since we've only been at it for a week. He nods. "Alright, so if we all make a group effort today, we can get the rest sold in like, one hour."
"We're not cleaning up your mess for you, if that's what you think." John reasons. Maren doesn't show it, but I'm sure she's pleased that someone agrees with her point of view. I also think he should have sold some tickets by now, but I'm not exactly offended. I saw it coming actually.
"Come on, we could get it all done today and then chill for week. No more ticket selling." Stanley says. He looks around, and in seeing he's not persuading anyone, he adds, "And I can get you all takeout for supper."
"Sold." Joseph sticks out his hand and Stanley shakes it with a smirk, apparently sealing the deal. He looks at John with an expectant smile, who's eyes glance at Maren for a second before he uncrosses his arms and shakes Stanley's hand.
"There we go. Now that is what I call teamwork, huh?" He shakes my hand and looks at Maren for agreement.
"I'm not shaking your hand." She says. "But I'll do it for the food." He takes his hand away and settles for giving her a wink. I'm willing to bet that getting Maren's agreement was the reason he was so civil earlier.
"Why are you guys... congregated here?" Riley appears next to John, looking confused at Stanley's smirk, Maren's scowl and Joseph's grin. "Did I miss something?"
"Nope." Stanley replies immediately. He holds out his hand with a charming smile. "Put 'er there, Pierce." She eyes him suspiciously, but shakes his hand anyway, making his grin widen. "Alright, I'll see you guys in a couple minutes." Stanley walks away and John and Joseph go with him so I assume they're carpooling.
"I definitely missed something." Riley says. Maren sighs, spinning her car keys on her finger.
"I never thought I'd be driving myself to Stanley Worthington's house." She mutters.
-Page Break-
"I'm telling you, it's going to rain." Riley warns as we get out of the car, now parked in Stanley's driveway.
"Probably, but the forecast didn't call for it." I say.
"No, it will." Maren agrees, looking up at the sky. "I can feel it." I roll my eyes a little but neither Riley or I challenge her hunch. Maren's 'feelings' involving the weather are correct more times than not. She's weird like that.
"Ladies, fancy seeing you here!" Stanley jumps out of his truck after parking a little too close to Maren, which she was unhappy about. He doesn't seem to have a plan as he stands on the other side of the car, just contently smiling at his remark.
Thankfully, John comes around from the other side of the truck, looking much more put together. "Alright, I was thinking we could split up in partners and each group will take a street." He explains. I look around us and notice that there's a conveniently located three-way intersection close by. "Who wants to sort the tickets?"
I take the job only because I want to get this done quick. Riley, Joseph and Stanley volunteer their school bags as ticket holders, and I work on getting an even amount of tickets into each bag, laying them on the hood of Maren's car.
"Hey."
Joseph's voice makes me jump a little, apparently so focused on my task that I failed to hear him come up beside me. When I glance at him I find a grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes that tells me he had probably planned that.
"Wanna be partners?" He asks. He perches on the edge of the car hood, crossing his arms and leaning back in a relaxed posture, watching me as I go about my business.
"Considering who your are, I guess I'll let you tag along." I say with a slight smile.
"It would be an honour to sell tickets with you, Marina of the Sea." He says grandly. He grins when I roll my eyes. "Plus, it'll probably help sales to have some eye candy on the team." He teases.
I put extra focus into the task at hand as I feel a blush creep into my cheeks. I do glance at him though. He has that lopsided smile on his face, his mess of hair matching the brightness in his eyes completely. And when he chuckles, pushing a hand into the pocket of his jeans, I know that if either of us were to be the 'eye candy' in this relationship, it would be him.
"Almost done over there?" Maren calls. I nod and start zipping up all the bags, packed with school books and tickets alike. It didn't take me too long. Since our goal is to sell 102 booklets, we have 28 left to go. It means two teams get 9 booklets each and one team gets 10.
"Someone is going to have to sell an extra booklet." I say.
Joseph raises his hand. "My vote is for Stanley."
"Mine too." Maren says.
"Hey, I'm on his team too." John defends. "I think we should have an even draw or something." He suggests.
Maren chuckles. "No, you're guilty by association." She looks at me. "Give them the extra."
Stanley oddly doesn't object as I stuff the extra tickets into his bag. I guess he's trying to make up for all the work he didn't do, or maybe he just doesn't want to cause a fuss. Either way, I only have to sell 9 so I'm happy.
I distribute the bags and we walk to the end of the driveway, looking at the intersection that's not too far away. "Alright so you guys-" John indicates Joseph and I, pointing in the direction of one of the streets, "go that way. We'll go this way, and Maren and Riley, you guys can go that way." He gives us the directions of our desired streets.
"Hey, you ladies sure you'll be alright by yourselves?" Stanley teases Riley and Maren as we go our separate ways.
Riley turns around, walking backwards with a laugh. "Maren punches things for fun. We'll be fine."
Maren rolls her eyes. "I punch punching bags, for exercise." She clarifies.
"Yeah, but you're one of those weird people that think exercise is fun."
Stanley's eyebrows furrow. "Exercise is fun." He says. Maren frowns, obviously agreeing but not happy about it. Their similarities are getting increasingly evident, and I'm sure Maren has picked up on that.
"Alright, lets go." She orders to Riley shortly.
-Page Break-
"This is a great arrangement. I love it." Joseph says cheerfully as we make our way down the sidewalk to another house. The arrangement he's referring to is that we agreed he would do most of the talking. I'm glad.
"Well, you are very good at talking." I tease. He tilts his head a little in his animated version of pretending to think.
"Do I detect an insult?" He asks.
"No, you detect a fact." I correct. He stays silent for a moment, causing me to glance at him. He has his eyes narrowed.
"You better watch yourself, Sea girl." He says in a way I think is supposed to be threatening. It has the complete opposite effect. How strained it looks for him to make that face is funny. I must not be hiding my amusement very well because he sighs. "Marina, I'm trying to be scary here." He whines.
"You might have a problem then. I don't think you have the capability." I chuckle.
"And you do?" He challenges. I raise my eyebrows at him, fixing him with the same look Riley once called the 'if you forgot to defrost that chicken so help me God' expression. His eyes widen comically. "Point taken."
We knock on a door and do our little explanation. The owner of the house buys three tickets and finishes off our seventh booklet. It's pretty good considering we've only been out here an hour. We shouldn't be too much longer.
"You know, I think I would've actually liked to win the trip to the ski hill." Joseph muses as we walk away.
"Oh. Do you know how to ski?" I ask.
"No." He answers. I laugh a little and he just gives a signature cheerful shrug. "But if I was going to learn something like that, I would choose snowboarding." He decides.
"Why?"
"Well... snowboarders always look cooler."
"Oh, of course." I nod thoughtfully and with mock seriousness. Joseph picks up on my voice and looks down at me with suspicion, huffing when I can't fight a grin.
"They do!" He defends. I roll my eyes a little.
"If I was going to learn how to ski or snowboard, looking cool would be the least of my worries."
"Oh really?" He challenges. "Please tell me, Your Highness, what are your other immense concerns?" He asks. He puts his hand on his chin in mock thought, as though he actually thinks finding reasons to worry is going to be a struggle for me. Please.
I start counting them off on my fingers. "Tearing a muscle. Not being able to stop. Plowing into someone else. Falling. Falling and breaking a bone. Falling and breaking my neck." The scenarios come easy. "I could get hooked in the ski lift and it could tear my arm off-"
Joseph's disbelieving snort cuts me off. "Are you kidding me?" He laughs, tilting his head back a little. It comes so easy for him, part of what makes it so infectious. Still, I somehow manage to keep my amusement down to a stubborn grin as he looks back down at me, shaking his head. "You're worried that the ski lift is going to nab your arm and gruesomely rip it from your body? You've got to be joking."
"Hey, you're the one who asked me what could happen."
"I didn't know it was going to get so dark!" He exclaims and I finally let out my laugh, feeling that it's impossible to stifle it any longer.
"I wonder what the chances of that happening are though." I muse. Joseph looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and can't help another chuckle.
"Probably about the same breaking your neck." He says, playfully nudging me with his shoulder before knocking on another door.
The owner of this house only buys one ticket, and then we're back to walking away. Joseph still has that teasing grin on his face, something that tells me he's going to continue to bug me about the previous topic. I realize that I don't mind it at all.
"You know what? You're a compulsive worrier." He accuses.
"I worry about what needs to be worried about." I defend stubbornly.
"Which is everything."
I sigh. "That's not true."
He grins and points a finger at me. "It is so true." I roll my eyes and push his hand away, but he just wraps the other one around my shoulder, pulling me to his side with a chuckle. "I bet if you saw a pothole in the road you'd be worried about it turning into a sinkhole." He teases.
"Well, that is how sinkholes form." I reply.
"See? I knew it!" He says triumphantly. He lets go of my shoulder but instead grabs my hand, weaving our fingers together between us.
"You know what? I think it's fine to worry. At least I'm not too relaxed." I counter, trying to ignore the feeling of his thumb running circles on the back of my hand. He raises his eyebrows at me, I think trying to achieve the same expression I had earlier. But there's still a tug at the corner of his mouth so he fails miserably. His eyes are too bright for him to look anything but cheerful anyway.
"Marina of the Sea, are you implying that I am too relaxed?"
"Yes."
He seems a bit surprised by my straightforward answer, but amused all the same. "How so?" Coincidentally, he starts swinging our joined hands together between us as he says this. If that action doesn't prove my point, I don't know what will.
"You think nothing can go wrong, ever. Like the world is made for you." I say. I shake my head, seriously at a loss of how somebody could be so optimistic. I will admit, it's refreshing to see someone who always sees the best in everything, but it's also just another thing that concerns me.
"Is that a bad thing?" He asks, that confused puppy look on his face. I want to say yes. I want to tell him how I don't want to see the day when something happens to him that his naivety wouldn't let him prepare for. But that's dark.
"No." I say instead. "No, it's not."
Another house. Six tickets this time. Joseph looks at me.
"Let me ask you one question." He says, and I'm struck by his sudden seriousness. "If the world isn't made for us, why are we here?"
I arch an eyebrow at him. "That's awfully philosophical of you." I say, then shrug. "In biology our main purpose is basically just to reproduce. But I don't think that's the answer you're looking for." I smile wryly and he chuckles.
"No, not really." He admits. He waits a beat before continuing, seeming to think over his words. "I think the world is what you make it." He decides.
"That's a nice thought." I say, a slight smile on my face at the idea. He studies me for a moment.
"A thought." He repeats. "But you don't actually believe it." His tone isn't accusing or harsh. Just curious. "Why?"
"It's easier to be disappointed when you have high expectations."
The explanation comes so easily to me that I start to wonder how long I've had this opinion without voicing it. I look to my side to see the slanted set to Joseph's mouth. "What?" I ask.
"Nothing. It's just... that's dark." He chuckles a little.
"It's realistic." I argue as we reach another house. We finish off our current booklet and I pull another one out of the book bag.
"Why?" Joseph asks. He seems determined to question all of my opinions today.
"I don't know. It just seems like every time you look toward the future, something fails or it gets ruined or someone dies... or something." I shake my head, trying to cover up my surprise at my own words. I hadn't planned to say that last part.
A gentle smile takes over Joseph's face, and I expect him to say something about how quickly the statement escalated, or how negative the thought was. He doesn't. He just shrugs, and it's that light gesture that makes it seem like every problem can be easily fixed. In his mind, it might be the truth.
"Well, I have high hopes." He declares.
"For what?"
"For us." He answers simply, and grins. "And it's okay that you're all dark and twisty, because I have enough positivity for both of us."
I laugh a little at 'dark and twisty' and shake my head. "I'm sure you do, but I don't think it's necessary." I say. "This is something I'm not worried about."
I chuckle as I say it but Joseph's eyebrows shoot up, and it takes that for me to realize what I said. I'm surprised myself to realize that it's not untrue. Because as much as I can say that looking up only lets you down, or that bad things happen when things start to get good, when it comes to him, I'm not not worried. Like Maren and Riley and Ella, Joseph has become a constant.
"By 'this', you mean..." he takes my hand again and lifts them in front of us with raised eyebrows of question. I nod, but his expression doesn't change. "You're not worried about it? Us?"
I feel a smile tug at the corner of my mouth as I nod again, and Joseph grins, giving my hand a squeeze as he starts swinging them with even more enthusiasm. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"It is?" I say in disbelief. I shake my head. "God, I'm a terrible girlfriend."
Joseph laughs. "No you're not. You're amazing just the way you are." He scrunches up his nose, emphasizing the cheesiness of his words. He suddenly puts and arm around my shoulder and squeezes me tight enough emit a squeak from me.
"Those are song lyrics." I accuse. He raises a challenging eyebrow and falls in step in front of me, walking backwards.
"Very meaningful and inspirational song lyrics." He corrects.
I roll my eyes but before I can voice an argument, he stops and presses his lips to mine. The gesture makes my feet stall and apparently everything else too, because my hands don't seem to be working right either. He does that a lot; just kisses me out of nowhere. I hate it because it's partially the surprise that makes my brain turn to static. But then I recover, and my hands find their way to his chest and my brain finds the correct response. And then I don't hate it at all.
He pulls back with a light of mischief in his eyes, and I expect a playful wink or a comment that makes me blush. But he just leans in again, surprising me enough to startle a giggle from me as our lips meet again. I feel him smile too and I want to roll my eyes at his cockiness, but I can't because the weightless feeling on my gut won't let me focus on anything other than the current activity.
Speaking of which, it seems to be going on for a pretty long time time. I certainly don't mind, but I remember that we're in the middle of a sidewalk.
"Joseph." I mumble against his mouth. He pulls back just enough for me to see his raised eyebrows of question. "We shouldn't probably stop. There are people around." I chuckle.
Joseph laughs. "Well, if they're watching us I think that says more about them then it does about us." He jokes, but he presses a quick kiss to the top of my head before he pulls back completely. It's like a habit now, and I'm more than fine with it.
After about thirty more minutes we have all the tickets sold and we make our way back to Stanley's house. The sky is darker now and I keep looking up as we walk, wondering if we'll get caught in the rain or not. I get my answer when we reach the intersection we started from and drops begin to pepper my face. Joseph puts a hand over my head with a shrug as though it's going to do anything against the rain. He abandons the effort once we reach Stanley's driveway and we jog the rest of the way to the door.
When we walk in through the door, the smell of cooked food hits me immediately. I'm hungry but I'm more curious as to how the food is here. Joseph just grins at me. It seems hunger is overpowering his confusion.
We logically make our way to the kitchen first. Sitting on the table is eight containers of rotisserie chicken surrounded by dipping sauce and boxes of fries. Stanley is laying a pile of plates on the table when he sees us enter, smirking at our confusion.
"Took you guys long enough." He says. He gestures to the table. "We've sold all the tickets and picked up takeout."
"But how?" Joseph looks back and forth between Stanley and the food. "You had more books to sell than us."
"I'm not saying being charming is easy, but it sells more tickets." Stanley says. It doesn't exactly answer Joseph's question, but it's halfway there. "Where is Riley and Maren?" He asks.
"I guess they're not back yet." I shrug. Stanley seems indifferent but when John turns from the fridge to lay cans of pop on the table, his eyebrows are tugged in.
"But they only had to sell nine booklets. Shouldn't they be back by now?"
Stanley only shrugs, not seeming to care about much other than food at the moment. "They're probably just slow. I'd say we start eating."
Nobody needs to be told twice. I choose a random chair next to Joseph, and start to eat. I realize it's from a restaurant not too far from here, and it's good.
We're nearly done eating when the door opens again. Maren comes in first with her ponytail dripping and hoodie dark with trapped water. I hide a smile at the scowl on her face. Riley comes inside after, still wet but unsurprisingly more cheerful.
"You girls get caught in the rain?" Stanley teases. Maren looks up from starting to take off her shoes, her glare hard enough to send any person other than Stanley running.
"Your neighbours suck." She mutters to him, roughly kicking off a soggy sneaker. Stanley smirks and leans back in his chair.
"That's not very nice, Sweetheart. Why would you say that?"
"Oh, why would I say that?" She repeats, kicking off her other sneaker with an excess amount of force. "We've gone to about one hundred houses but barely even sold all the tickets because apparently everyone who lives here are just a bunch of cheap bastards."
Stanley smirks wider and I can see John and Joseph trying not to laugh. Riley rolls her eyes as she slides off her shoes with a much more reasonable show of strength.
"Maren is grumpy because we got caught in the rain." She teases.
"No." Maren replies, coming into the kitchen without even showing surprise at the amount of food on the table. "Maren is grumpy because she got caught in the cold."
"Is Maren speaking about herself in the third person?" I ask. She transfers her stern look to me and I chuckle.
"Oh wow. This is a lot of food." Riley seems to have a more appropriate reaction as she comes into the kitchen, choosing one of the only few seats available. Judging by the small amount of spaces at the table, I'm willing to bet there's a proper dining room with a bigger table somewhere else in the house.
"The best team deserves the best food." Stanley says. Maren looks up for a second and I can almost hear her say something like, 'I think you're forgetting that you're on the team'. But then she presses her lips together, stuffing in the comment as she reaches for a box of fries. While Stanley may not be her favourite person, she's respectful enough to not insult somebody who's feeding and housing her.
"We should watch a movie or something after this." Joseph says suddenly, taking a short break from his meal to talk. "You know, in the theatre." He continues eating as though that sentence was completely normal, and our eyes dart to Stanley.
"You have a theatre in here?" Riley asks in disbelief. Stanley nods, but seems unimpressed at the aspect of showing it off. Maybe he's just used to extravagance or maybe he thinks having a home theatre is unnecessary.
"Yeah, Dad is kind of a movie buff. We can go down there after."
-Page Break-
The theatre does not disappoint. I don't think I've ever seen a screen inside a house that is quite as large as the one in front of me now. Underneath it lies a soft carpet, but a darker shade than the rest of the house as far as I can tell. Small couches line the front of the screen in three rows, each one raised higher than the last. And if the professional theatre layout wasn't enough, shelves built into the wall on either side of the TV are filled with a pile of movies that stand taller than the screen.
John casually walks over to the pile, beginning to pick down through the DVDs while Maren, Riley and I stand at the doorway in awe.
"So, What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?" John asks as Joseph makes his way over there too. "There is pretty much everything here but there's more in the storage room if we can't find anything."
The idea that we wouldn't be able to find anything to watch in a collection that size is baffling, but Stanley doesn't seem as impressed. He comes in behind us after lagging behind to grab some drinks, shaking his head.
"Forget the movies." He says. After dropping the selection of soft drinks on one of the small tables around, he goes to stand in front of the shelf on the other side of the TV. It takes me a second to realize that those are in fact games, not movies. Stanley plucks a case from the pile and turns around, holding it up. "Who wants to play Mario Kart?"
Joseph immediately whoops and turns from the movie selection without a moment of hesitation. John shrugs, indifferent, and Stanley looks at us, smirking. "What about you ladies?" He bends down and pulls a wii remote from a drawer in the wall. "Anyone brave enough to challenge the champion?"
It's not surprising that the challenge immediately gets Maren to walk over. I'm pretty sure she takes it as her civic duty to show up overconfident people like Stanley. He offers a remote to Riley and I, and when I shake my head he gives it Riley without waiting for an answer.
"I haven't played before." She protests.
"Ever?" He says in disbelief. "Well now you have to play."
Stanley puts the game in and we all find seats, John and I being the ones who opted not to play. Maren sits on one of the couches and scowls when Stanley sits on the other side, no doubt aiming to annoy her.
"Alright." She says nonchalantly, attaching the nunchuck to her remote. Stanley decides to use the remote as a wheel. "Lets gets this over with."
John
"Ha! Suck it, Wario!"
I watch on the huge screen as Maren's character - Bowser - passes Stanley's with a quick knock to the side of the cart, sending him into a barrier. He grunts and with a strong turn of his remote, propels his character back into the race, now in second place. Meanwhile, a groan sounds from my left, where Riley is aggressively clicking the accelerator button on the remote. Her character - Toad I think - is stuck in the mud after she failed to hit the booster pads.
"And this is why I hate video games." She grumbles, and as far as I can tell, she's not good at them either. She's gotten last place in every race she's participated in. "I mean, look at this. According to what logic would mud cause a vehicle to go this slow?" She shakes her head. "Ridiculous."
"If you hate it so much, why are you playing it?" I laugh.
"I wasn't allowed to have a wii when I was younger. I would like to re-experience my youth." She explains, unable to hide her amusement when she says the second part. "Plus, some practice could never hurt."
"I disagree." Maren says, frowning as Stanley weaves his cart around her. "Something that terrible could never be described as practice."
"Yeah? Well, I hope you lose, Maren."
Maren just shakes her head with a smirk as her character crosses the finish line just before Stanley. He curses and throws the remote next to him on the couch in frustration, obviously not pleased with a second place finish. He looks at Maren and she surprisingly responds by sticking out her tongue at him. He scoffs and looks away.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't amused by this different side of her; winning and rubbing it in. I've hardly ever seen her cocky like this, because while she's indefinitely confident, she's never boastful. Sometimes she's so calm when she does something good I start to think that she's completely stoic, like she doesn't care about the victory at all. But then there's the times she unintentionally shows me I've got it completely wrong, like when she wins a game of Mario Kart, grins and sticks out her tongue like a child. And I can't help but smile because she enjoys winning just as much as the rest of us, she's just too proud to show it.
"Fifth. Not bad." Joseph says when his character crosses the finish line, leaving Riley to be the only one who hasn't finished yet. Her bike hits a wall when she tries to make a turn and I see her eyes widen a threatening fraction, as though daring the game to slow her down again.
"You chose manual drift didn't you?" Stanley accuses.
"There's multiple types of drifts?" She replies distractedly. She hits another wall. "Okay, is there anyway to die? Like, can I fall off the track and end my suffering?"
"First of all, falling off the track wouldn't kill you, it would just make the race longer. Second, this the coconut mall. You can't fall off the track on this one, that's stupid." Maren dismisses. Riley raises a skeptically eyebrow.
"Are you implying that I can't fall off the track just because the map is named after a nut?" She asks. Maren gives her an incredulous look and I let out a laugh, as does everyone else. Riley chuckles too and shakes her head. "And you called me stupid." She leans back in her chair, smiling as she continues failing at the game.
Maren just looks at her with her mouth open slightly, eyebrows raised. "Oh my God." She scoffs and crosses her arms. "You know, I wasn't even calling you stupid, I was calling the idea stupid. But now, just because those words came out of your mouth, yeah. You're stupid."
Riley obviously doesn't take the joked insult to heart, grinning as Maren rolls her eyes. I can't really tell if she just likes amusing people or if she actually doesn't know what she said that got us laughing. Despite her straight A's, she seems to lack a certain level of common sense. It's funny though, but I think she knows that.
"Why haven't you used your power-up yet?" Joseph asks. He's sitting next to Marina who's opted to not play, instead listening to the exchange with amusement, like I am. "You've had a Bullet Bill this whole time."
"A what?"
"The thing is the corner. It's your power-up." I explain. "Hit the button on your nunchuck."
Her voice rises a confused fraction. "My what?" I hold back a laugh, but she seems to notice her change of pitch when she hears the chuckles of everyone else.
I reach over and press the correct button, her character transforming into a bullet as it speedily works its way to the programmed players.
"Oh wow, this would have been useful forever ago." She laughs. Her character finally catches up to the rest of the competitors and she just squeaks into eleventh place as she passes the line. Joseph cheers for her, Stanley and I join in and Marina and Maren roll their eyes.
The ending podium appears on-screen, Bowser in the gold spot and Wario in the silver. It's not a surprise since Maren and Stanley have been trading first and second place throughout the whole tournament. Riley is nowhere to be seen in the standings of course, and Joseph complains about getting fourth.
"Thank God, it's over." Riley practically thrusts her remote and nunchuck in my direction and I take them with a chuckle. Maren stands up and hands her remote to Marina, who doesn't exactly look excited to play, but takes it anyway.
Stanley sees the exchange, confused. "What? Too afraid to play in round two, Sweetheart?" He challenges. Maren doesn't respond but shakes her empty can of Pepsi at him, signifying she needs a refill. "Oh, get me one while you're up there." He requests.
I think she might refuse, but she nods, most likely acknowledging that he's responsible for her having a soft drink in the first place since it's his house. She has her pride, but I guess she also has her manners.
She disappears down the hallway that leads to upstairs and we start the second round of games. I keep my character the same but change my drifting to automatic, avoiding Riley's mistake. After some arguing about characters from Joseph and Stanley, the game gets underway. The countdown to the first race is on the screen when I go to take a sip of my drink, and realize there's less than a mouthful left. I suppose I should have asked Maren if she would get me another one like Stanley did. But then, I wouldn't want her to think I was requesting things of her.
I stand up and drop my remote in Riley's lap as I leave. She looks up, startled. "What? John, no." She protests just as the count down reaches zero.
"You've got this." I encourage. The looks she gives me makes it clear exactly how much she disagrees with that statement, but she starts playing anyway, immediately banging into a wall.
I exit out the doorway into the slightly dimmer hall, the floors covered in cream coloured carpet out here as opposed to the light brown in the theatre room. I guess the darker shade is better for watching movies when the lights are turned off. I know my way well around the house after being here so many times, and I'm barely paying attention as my feet take me down the dimly lit hall.
My mind snaps to attention as I turn a sharp corner and find Maren just in front of me. I rush to stop myself and try to apologize at the same time, but then a substantial force hits me in the stomach. The punch is so hard it forces air out of my lungs and my arms cross over my abdomen at their own will, a grunt escaping my throat. It's about the only sound I can make now that my lungs appear to be empty.
"Oh fuck. Are you okay?" Maren asks. My body still in a bent position, I nod a little too fast as I suck in air, attempting to regain my lost breath.
"Yeah. Just peachy." My voice comes out squeezed and accompanied with a cough. I straighten up with a slight cringe, noticing the two sodas in one of her hands, her other one uncurling from a fist.
"Jesus, you shouldn't just appear like that." She scolds, her concern changing to irritation alarmingly quick. She sounds breathless too, probably the shock from the scare wearing off. "What are you even doing here?" I look at her. Her jaw is set, her posture straight and stormy eyes guarded. The expression spikes my nerves.
She's mad.
"I needed another pop." I explain. She lets out a huff through her nose.
"You should have asked me for one when I went up then."
"I didn't know I needed one. Plus I didn't want to-" I cough, "inconvenience you."
Maren looks me over for a second, from the hand resting on my gut to my slowly recovering face. She's undoubtedly just as aware as I am of the irony since I ended up inconveniencing her and causing damage to myself. She sighs and shakes her head, looking down at the floor for a moment. When she glances back up I can see some irritation ebbing away.
"Are you alright?" She asks again, this time in concern rather than surprise.
"Yeah. I mean, a little internal bruising isn't a cause for concern right?" I joke. She doesn't seem amused. "Good punch though. Damn." And it was. It's not the hardest punch I've ever received but I'm willing to bet if she had time to prepare, it would be high on the list. "How'd you learn to hit so good?" I ask.
Her eyes dart to mine. "I already told you. I go to the gym for the punching bag." She says. Yes, I remember her telling me that. That fateful day I had been an idiot and she saw it all.
"A punching bag doesn't teach reflexes." I reply, thinking of my throbbing stomach.
"I guess not." She shrugs. I'd like her to elaborate, but I know better than to ask. "What kind of pop were you going to get?"
"Sprite." She nods and makes a gesture toward the theatre room, telling me to go back. She starts to walk back to the stairs. "Wait, where are going?" I ask. She turns around, walking backwards.
"I just hit you. And since you're in obvious misery, the least I can do is get you your stupid drink." She explains, the corner of her mouth lifting up for the first time in the conversation. I grin as she turns back around, and start jogging so I can catch up to her, because there's no way in hell I'm letting her think that one punch laid me out.
"A simple apology would have been sufficient."
She shoots me a look. "Why would I apologize? You're the one who scared me."
"It's not like I did it on purpose." I argue, though smiling at her teasing tone. "Maybe I would have been more careful if I knew there was a blood thirsty lunatic on the loose."
"Well maybe I wouldn't have punched you if you didn't look so much like a punching bag."
"I look nothing like a punching bag."
"Sorry, you're right. That was an insult to punching bags."
I scoff but can't seem to find any words for a rebuttal as we start to ascend the steps. Maren turns her head at my silence and a smile fights it's way onto her lips.
"You're on thin ice, Elizabeth." I threaten, finding it hard to keep down my grin. She rolls her eyes and laughs, causing my expression to escape.
Once we're up the stairs we have to pass through the living room to get to the kitchen. I notice her looking around, most likely noting the difference in its cleanliness since the last time she was here. Yup, no alcohol stains on the floor now. If you flipped the couch cushions over you might find some though.
"Good memories in this room?" I tease. She shoots me a look like 'watch it', and I laugh.
"I'm sure you had fun cleaning it up." She counters.
My eyebrows shoot up. "How'd you hear about that?" She shrugs, not lingering in the living room and quickly moving on to the kitchen.
"Through the grapevine." She replies vaguely. I hold in a laugh. Judging by the short list of people she associates with, I'm willing to bet that her so-called 'grapevine' doesn't extend very far.
"I bet it was Joseph." I say. One side of her mouth quirks up and I assume I got it wrong.
"No, it was Marina. She heard it from Joseph." We enter the kitchen and she opens the fridge, pulling out a sprite and holding it out to me.
"Doesn't really make sense for you to be all mysterious earlier if you were just going to tell me regardless." I take the drink with a smirk and slide past her to catch the closing door of the fridge. My eyes scan the shelves as I feel cold air spill out.
"What are you looking for?" Maren asks flatly, probably finding it strange I didn't just take what I came up here for. I picture her with a raised eyebrow of disinterest and I'm glad she can't see my smile.
"Stuff." I reply.
"Now who's being mysterious?"
I look over my shoulder and scrunch up my nose at her. Maren's expression is exactly like I pictured it as, and she's leaned against the island with her arms crossed. But when a smile twitches at her lips as her eyes meet mine, I can't help but notice how the throbbing in my stomach suddenly feels so far away. I scan the shelves and pull out an extra box of fries that hardly anyone touched, closing the door and putting them on the counter.
"You're still hungry?" Maren asks, her eyebrows raised.
"No, I just need something to go with the soda." I explain. I open the box and take out a fry. "Plus, I could use a break from the Mario Kart Olympics."
Maren chuckles under her breath and nods. "Agreed." I shoot her a doubtful look as she picks up a fry. She looks up as she puts it in her mouth, eyes widening in silent question. I might've found the look intimidating just a few weeks ago, but I'm too used to her expressions now to see it as anything more than just 'Maren'. "What?" She asks.
"I wouldn't expect the Mario Kart God to need a break." I tease. She rolls her eyes, and opens her drink. "How'd you get so good though?" I ask. Maren shrugs.
"Oh you know, I just spend my every waking moment replaying all the levels over and over again." She says sarcastically. I let out a laugh and Maren bites into another fry, smiling. "I'm as surprised as you are. I just played it a couple times when I was younger. Logically, everyone should be beating me." She explains around the food in her mouth, apparently not one for being proper. What a surprise.
"Right." I say skeptically. "Any other talents I should know about then? Are you also a legend in Call of Duty?"
Maren shrugs and pushes herself up on the counter, her feet dangling by the drawers. When she sits up there we're eye level, and her's are teasing, making the pain in my stomach transform into more of a squeezing feeling. It's those expressions that seem to affect me more than a frown or an eye roll. I don't expect them from her, but looking at her now, I can't believe how something so rare could suit her so perfectly.
"Fine, don't answer then." I say, crossing my arms, but uncrossing them immediately so I can reach for a fry. "I'll give you an easier question." I point the food at her. "What's your favourite colour?"
She arches an eyebrow, and even though she's still stunning, the familiar expression makes it easier for me to think. "My favourite colour." She states.
"That's what I said."
"Why?"
"Just curious."
"Okay then." She appears to think for a second, pausing with a fry between her fingers. "Would it be too depressing if I said black?"
"Yes." I reply. She gives a short chuckle. "Besides, black is a shade, not a colour."
Suddenly her face goes slack, looking tired as she picks up another fry. "Oh. So you're one of those people."
"One of what people?" I ask.
She rolls her eyes. "One of those people who are really obnoxious about black being shade. God forbid something that's not in the rainbow be considered a colour." She bites into her food, eyes widening in exaggerated annoyance at her statement.
I grin at her. "Well, that is kind of the definition of a colour." She scowls at me, but I'm not worried. "That just proves that you're weirder than I thought you were."
"Because I believe black is a colour." She accuses flatly.
"No, not just that."
"What then?"
"Well for starters, there's a chair two feet away from you and you chose to sit on the counter." I point out. She looks to her side at the kitchen table I'm pointing out, many chairs arranged around it. When she looks back she huffs.
"That chair is at least six feet away."
Another smile is quick to make its way onto my face. "That wasn't exactly the point."
"Well, I'm not about to listen to the point of a guy who can't even estimate distance correctly." She counters. I scoff, but that seems to be the extent of my retort aside from crossing my arms. Unfortunately my mouth isn't as smart as hers, and by the smirk forming on her lips, she knows it. She looks at me, her gaze suddenly less teasing. "What's your favourite colour?" She asks.
I raise an eyebrow, amused. "Are you asking because you're interested or just to be polite?"
She laughs and looks down for only a moment. "I'm not polite, John." She says.
I laugh a little too. Because I know she sees herself as the person who nearly broke Phiri's nose, who only has two friends, or the closed-off girl with a too-smart mouth. But she's also the girl who told me my haircut looked good, who led a lost guy to the other end of a supermarket for a bottle of shampoo, and the girl who tied an idiot's shoe at the gym.
"Blue." I say. "But not like electric blue or navy. Somewhere in the middle."
She nods, seeming to approve of my choice. "Like cobalt blue."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Good choice." She says, reaching to the box for another fry. Her eyebrows pinch together and she picks up the box. "Oh, we're out." She shows me the inside, and sure enough, there's only a couple a left. "Here." She says, offering me the box.
I smile knowingly and she arches an eyebrow at the expression. "And you said you're not polite." I take the fries out of the box and pop them in my mouth. She snorts.
"It's a couple of fries, John. Don't take it to heart."
"Too late." I pluck the box from her hand and make my way toward the garbage can in the corner. "I've already committed this moment to memory." I open the can and put the box in the garbage. When I turn around Maren is already off the counter and rolling her eyes. She grabs two Pepsi's off the counter and starts leaving the kitchen.
"Let's go." She says.
I rush to grab my sprite and realize that although I got the fries to go with the drink, I never even opened it yet. I guess I got a bit distracted. When I catch up to Maren, she's already halfway down the steps.
We're just reaching the landing of the stairs when she says, "Red."
"What?"
She doesn't look at me, instead keeping her eyes focused somewhere further down the hallway. "Red. That's my favourite colour other than black."
I don't ask why she likes that colour. The only red coloured things I can associate her with are gym carpets and running tracks.
"Cool." I say nodding. "Black still isn't a colour though." I can't help but tease.
"You know what? I'm going to prove you wrong." She decides. I raise my eyebrows.
"And how would you do that?"
"Well I won't." She smirks. "But Riley will."
I wait for her to explain it further but she just keeps walking until we reach the theatre. Again, Riley is the only one left playing. Maren walks around to Stanley's seat and drops the can of pop in his lap before taking the controls from Riley and dropping down into her previous position.
"Tell John that black is a colour." She orders, the character on screen now moving at a much faster pace due to the shift in control.
I sit down on the other side of the couch Riley is sitting on, opening my drink. She glances at me. "Uh, black is a colour."
I chuckle. "Strong reasoning."
Maren rolls her eyes. "No, R. Explain that shirt colour reflection... thing."
"Oh, okay. Well... uh. We learned this in like seventh grade but whatever," She looks at me, then at my shirt. "Okay, so you're wearing a green shirt." She says.
"Right."
"So really, you're wearing every colour except green." She explains. I look at her skeptically and both Joseph and Stanley turn to look at her the same way, making her rush to explain. "The shirt absorbs every colour except green because green is reflected."
I feel my face clear and Joseph's expression is similar. Stanley however, just looks more confused. "So this," he pinches his black t-shirt, "What colour does this reflect?"
Riley grins, gaining confidence now that someone has taken an interest. "That's it. It doesn't reflect any colour because it absorbs them all." She explains with an excited hand gesture I can't translate.
Stanley raises an amused eyebrow. "So black is like, the ultimate colour?" He concludes.
She nods. "Yup."
Maren smirks at me and raises her eyebrows smugly, as though she was the one who proved me wrong. 'Loser' She mouths to me. I huff.
"You are a child." I accuse.
She laughs, turning back to the game and finally catching up to the programmed players. "Deal with it."
I grin and lean back on the couch, putting an arm up on the back cushion. I have a feeling that 'dealing with it' won't be a problem at all.
Hey guys, thanks for reading and let me know what you think :)