He took the bet, he couldn't take what would happen if he didn't; he'd have
to tell his closest friends how he felt for the girl that they hated so and
face losing them. Craig knew that it was stupid and irrational, but he
didn't think long before he spoke.
~*~
"Craig, hurry up!" Joey calls up the stairs. It was almost 5 O'Clock, Marilyn was going to come over to work on the project any minute. He and Craig had spent an hour trying to think of something to cook for Marilyn besides a salad... with very little luck.
Looking around his room, Craig nods to himself and leaves the bedroom to head downstairs. Marilyn had been over to the house before, but each time she did Craig seemed to inspect everything closer. Craig raced down the stairs, "How's everything?"
"For the tenth time, everything's fine and dandy." Joey laughs.
The doorbell rings and Craig scrambles to the door and opens it, "Hey, Marilyn." He greets, letting her inside.
"Hey, Craig, Mr. Jeremiah." Marilyn walks inside the house, carrying her bag.
"Call me Joey." He states kindly, nearly drowned out by Angie as she runs down the stairs.
"Mary-lan!" Angie calls, a smile on her face, "I haven't seen you since two days ago!" When she gets to the others, Angie raises her arms.
Marilyn picks Angie up and gives her a hug. She and the little girl had befriended each other quickly; Angie always wanted a big sister and Marilyn seemed to fit the role better than Emma at times, "I didn't miss you." She jokes.
Angie scrunches up her nose, trying to look angry, "I didn't miss you too."
Joey laughs, "Enough, enough. These kids have work to do." He looks at Marilyn, "There's a spot open for you for if you're here for dinner, but call your parents if you are staying here."
"They don't care whether I stay or not." Marilyn says, adding "They never care" in her mind.
Craig and Marilyn walk upstairs and into the bedroom, "Did you get started on the poster? I scanned and printed some pictures out of the books you gave me." Craig explains, walking over to his desk and picking up a red folder.
"It's in my bag..." Marilyn says carefully as she opened up her messenger bag and pulled out a rolled up poster board.
Craig turns and watches Marilyn take out their poster, "Looks like it survived."
The hours began to pass as they got to work; finding facts, inhaling rubber cement and highlighter fumes, going over and over what they were going to say, and perfecting everything. When eyes strained and wrists burned, they set down their work and sat on the bed.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I don't know, can you?" Marilyn smirks, stuffing a notebook in her bag.
Craig rubs the back of his neck, "There's rumors going around schoo-"
Marilyn sighs, "What else is new... what do you want to know?"
"You're dad, he-"
"Died." Marilyn cut him off again, "And don't say you're sorry, I'm not."
Craig hesitates, "You're not? How can you not be sorry?"
"Pretty easily." Marilyn says flatly.
Craig looks at Marilyn, "My dad died too, and I am sorry. He would hit me and I'm sorry that he died." He huffs.
"You had it easy... you were lucky."
Craig narrows his eyes, "I had it easy? My dad fucking beat me. He would take all of his anger out on me with his fists or anything else he could get his hands on. He died and I still loved him after what he did to me." He spits, "How is that being lucky?"
Marilyn raises her eyes to meet Craig's. She's not wearing any contacts, her eyes needed to breathe, and Craig could see a glint in the green hues; a glint of a child's lost innocence.
"Mare?"
"... I wanted my father dead for the longest time, since I was four all I felt towards him was the strongest hate imaginable. I would be so happy when he didn't come home when he said he would; I'd hope that he left us or he was killed by some random addict on the streets... but that never happened, he would always come home. The day he did die was the day I told my mother what he had done to me. I washed the dog and my clothes were soaked, I went to my room to change and Mom came in to get my laundry. She..." Marilyn takes a shuddered breath, "she saw the bruises on my thighs and lower abdomen; that was the first and last time she gave a rat's ass about me. When Dad came home we both confronted him... I was thirteen. For years I was molested and told that was love, anything else was a lie." She has to stop herself for a moment, "I screamed at him, told him that I wanted him dead... He stormed out of the house and died three hours later; shot during a drug store robbery. I didn't cry, I never cried, I smiled. Every day I would go to the cemetery and spit on his grave." Marilyn looks away from Craig, no emotion left in her voice.
Craig was speechless. He didn't know what to say and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to say it. A wave of sickness washed over him and he felt like he needed to vomit.
Joey knocked on the bedroom door a few minutes later, "Dinner you two."
~*~
Weeks after, Craig and Marilyn spend more time together. They got an A on their History project, deciding that they were a good team. Craig was having difficulty acting like he and Ashley were friends and nothing more, to his knowledge Marilyn had no idea that he and Ashley were dating. The bet was seemingly breathing down his neck, pushing him in directions that he didn't want to go... but did anyway.
Craig didn't want to use Marilyn like he was. He didn't want to get close to her, just to push her away and tell his friends what he had found out about her. He wanted to cancel the bet, Craig was falling harder and faster for Marilyn and he didn't want to hurt her like he had to.
He asked her to be his girlfriend nonetheless, she said yes. Craig was seemingly in a balancing act between Marilyn and Ashley; he couldn't let either one of them find out about one another. Craig needed the money for a better camera; his current one had seen better days and Craig had his eyes on an expensive, professional grade, digital camera...
~*~
"Craig, hurry up!" Joey calls up the stairs. It was almost 5 O'Clock, Marilyn was going to come over to work on the project any minute. He and Craig had spent an hour trying to think of something to cook for Marilyn besides a salad... with very little luck.
Looking around his room, Craig nods to himself and leaves the bedroom to head downstairs. Marilyn had been over to the house before, but each time she did Craig seemed to inspect everything closer. Craig raced down the stairs, "How's everything?"
"For the tenth time, everything's fine and dandy." Joey laughs.
The doorbell rings and Craig scrambles to the door and opens it, "Hey, Marilyn." He greets, letting her inside.
"Hey, Craig, Mr. Jeremiah." Marilyn walks inside the house, carrying her bag.
"Call me Joey." He states kindly, nearly drowned out by Angie as she runs down the stairs.
"Mary-lan!" Angie calls, a smile on her face, "I haven't seen you since two days ago!" When she gets to the others, Angie raises her arms.
Marilyn picks Angie up and gives her a hug. She and the little girl had befriended each other quickly; Angie always wanted a big sister and Marilyn seemed to fit the role better than Emma at times, "I didn't miss you." She jokes.
Angie scrunches up her nose, trying to look angry, "I didn't miss you too."
Joey laughs, "Enough, enough. These kids have work to do." He looks at Marilyn, "There's a spot open for you for if you're here for dinner, but call your parents if you are staying here."
"They don't care whether I stay or not." Marilyn says, adding "They never care" in her mind.
Craig and Marilyn walk upstairs and into the bedroom, "Did you get started on the poster? I scanned and printed some pictures out of the books you gave me." Craig explains, walking over to his desk and picking up a red folder.
"It's in my bag..." Marilyn says carefully as she opened up her messenger bag and pulled out a rolled up poster board.
Craig turns and watches Marilyn take out their poster, "Looks like it survived."
The hours began to pass as they got to work; finding facts, inhaling rubber cement and highlighter fumes, going over and over what they were going to say, and perfecting everything. When eyes strained and wrists burned, they set down their work and sat on the bed.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I don't know, can you?" Marilyn smirks, stuffing a notebook in her bag.
Craig rubs the back of his neck, "There's rumors going around schoo-"
Marilyn sighs, "What else is new... what do you want to know?"
"You're dad, he-"
"Died." Marilyn cut him off again, "And don't say you're sorry, I'm not."
Craig hesitates, "You're not? How can you not be sorry?"
"Pretty easily." Marilyn says flatly.
Craig looks at Marilyn, "My dad died too, and I am sorry. He would hit me and I'm sorry that he died." He huffs.
"You had it easy... you were lucky."
Craig narrows his eyes, "I had it easy? My dad fucking beat me. He would take all of his anger out on me with his fists or anything else he could get his hands on. He died and I still loved him after what he did to me." He spits, "How is that being lucky?"
Marilyn raises her eyes to meet Craig's. She's not wearing any contacts, her eyes needed to breathe, and Craig could see a glint in the green hues; a glint of a child's lost innocence.
"Mare?"
"... I wanted my father dead for the longest time, since I was four all I felt towards him was the strongest hate imaginable. I would be so happy when he didn't come home when he said he would; I'd hope that he left us or he was killed by some random addict on the streets... but that never happened, he would always come home. The day he did die was the day I told my mother what he had done to me. I washed the dog and my clothes were soaked, I went to my room to change and Mom came in to get my laundry. She..." Marilyn takes a shuddered breath, "she saw the bruises on my thighs and lower abdomen; that was the first and last time she gave a rat's ass about me. When Dad came home we both confronted him... I was thirteen. For years I was molested and told that was love, anything else was a lie." She has to stop herself for a moment, "I screamed at him, told him that I wanted him dead... He stormed out of the house and died three hours later; shot during a drug store robbery. I didn't cry, I never cried, I smiled. Every day I would go to the cemetery and spit on his grave." Marilyn looks away from Craig, no emotion left in her voice.
Craig was speechless. He didn't know what to say and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to say it. A wave of sickness washed over him and he felt like he needed to vomit.
Joey knocked on the bedroom door a few minutes later, "Dinner you two."
~*~
Weeks after, Craig and Marilyn spend more time together. They got an A on their History project, deciding that they were a good team. Craig was having difficulty acting like he and Ashley were friends and nothing more, to his knowledge Marilyn had no idea that he and Ashley were dating. The bet was seemingly breathing down his neck, pushing him in directions that he didn't want to go... but did anyway.
Craig didn't want to use Marilyn like he was. He didn't want to get close to her, just to push her away and tell his friends what he had found out about her. He wanted to cancel the bet, Craig was falling harder and faster for Marilyn and he didn't want to hurt her like he had to.
He asked her to be his girlfriend nonetheless, she said yes. Craig was seemingly in a balancing act between Marilyn and Ashley; he couldn't let either one of them find out about one another. Craig needed the money for a better camera; his current one had seen better days and Craig had his eyes on an expensive, professional grade, digital camera...