There was a knock on her door, but Abby ignored it. She was getting good at ignoring things, lately.
"Abby?" another knock, this one harder to ignore. What on Earth would Marcus Baker be doing at her house?
"Come in," she mumbled, half into her pillow, her curiosity outweighing her desire to be left alone.
The door creaked open, and in walked Marcus. If possible, he looked even worse than she did, and her chest constricted temporarily. She knew he'd probably been having a bad time of it, with Ginny and all, and, really, if anyone deserved a break, it was Marcus. Besides having Max for a sister, his best friend had died, and he'd been seriously messed up over it. It wasn't like he and Abby had ever spoken about it, but she was at his house all the time, and his downward spiral had been hard to watch for everyone.
Without any greeting, Marcus sat in a beanbag in the corner of the room, in view of the bed, even though she hadn't picked her head up out of the pillow to look at him. He smelled like cigarettes and pot, a nauseating combination.
"What're you doin' here?" she asked, not unkindly.
Marcus smiled thinly, glancing at her through lidded eyes, "Just wanted to stop by and say hey."
"We're not friends," Abby pointed out, adding, "I have no friends, anymore."
"And wouldn't you know it, neither do I," Marcus raised his hands, "No girlfriend, either."
"I'm sorry," she said, honestly. She didn't feel responsible for what had happened, but that didn't mean it didn't suck for him. Especially the getting punched part, concussed people should not be getting punched, "How's your head?"
"I'd like to say something cheesy, like better than my heart," he let out a forced laugh, "But I'm not sure that's technically true."
"That was really fucking stupid of Hunter," Abby said, and it felt good to get angry for a change, instead of just numb.
"I deserved it," Marcus shrugged, and it was enough to make Abby whip her head at him, alert suddenly, "No- you really didn't."
Marcus clasped a hand to his heart, only half sarcastic when he said, "So kind of you to care."
Max certainly hadn't. She thought he'd deserved it- doubled down on it, even.
"Says the guy who showed up at my house to check on me," Abby raised an eyebrow. She wasn't about to be accused of being sympathetic any time soon.
"Fair," Marcus said with a nod, "C'mon, I'm starving. Come to the cafe with me."
"Are you high?" Abby asked, "I can't be seen in public with you, not if I ever want Max to speak to me again."
"My sister will get over this," he assured the redhead, "And yes, I am high, hence why I'm starving."
"I really don't think that you should be smoking with a concussion," Abby crinkled her nose.
"You're the only one who seems to care I have a concussion," he laughed lightly, "but c'mon, it's not exactly like I was headed for the Ivy Leagues, anyway."
"You're not stupid, Marcus," she pointed out, "I know you want everyone to think you are, but you forget, I know you."
"Being an underperforming, ADHD, depressed zombie for a year really pulls down your GPA," he conceded, "But whatever, I'm hungry."
"I can make you something," she said, after a minute of consideration. She didn't really want to, but she would.
Marcus smiled more genuinely now, and he headed for the door, "I'll meet you downstairs."
Abby slowly slid out of her bed and pulled a pair of pajama pants on under her oversized t-shirt. Somehow she didn't think cooking for Marcus in her underwear would win Max over.
Once in the kitchen, Abby got out a frying pan, having decided she was going to make a grilled cheese, and got to work buttering one side of two pieces of bread.
"Where's yours?" Marcus asked.
"Well I don't have the munchies," Abby shrugged, "Not hungry."
"When Chris was in the hospital," Marcus said quietly, "There was this other teenager there too, so they got to be kinda friends."
Abby waited without a word for him to continue. She hadn't heard him talk about Chris in a long time.
"She had an eating disorder," he continued, "She died before he did. And I just remember thinking that was so selfish of her, y'know? Chris was there, dying for no good reason, and she just-"
"I don't have an eating disorder," Abby corrected, "I'm not nearly skinny enough to be hospitalized."
"But you want to be," Marcus' words cut her, yes, but also... how was it that he noticed this thing about her, that her former best friends, her own parents had managed to overlook?
"It's not like that," she said quietly, but she was altogether unable to explain what it was like, and they both knew it. When Marcus came to her and buttered another slice of bread, she didn't argue.
She didn't eat the whole grilled cheese, but didn't throw up what she had eaten, either, and that was progress, depending on how you look at it.
He stayed at her house longer than she'd expected, although she wasn't sure what exactly she had expected, and they watched some stupid movie on tv. One with loud explosions and guns, and that neither of them would've typically chosen, but it was nice to sit in a room other than their respective bedrooms for a change, and with another person, no less.
The two didn't have some super deep talk, didn't answer life's mysteries or solve any of their respective problems, but they still felt lighter somehow, as if just the knowledge that there was another person on the planet who cared about them, even a little bit, had lifted a weight off their shoulders.
At school on Monday, they didn't exchange so much as a hello, but the following Saturday when she was laying facedown in bed and there was a knock on her bedroom door, she didn't ignore it.