by J Grace
“No, he wasn’t. He was trying to assert his dominance over you. You’re still fairly new here, I’m not, so I know Malcolm a little better than you. He likes to get on your good side by being friendly and charming and then when he’s got you where he wants you...well, let’s just say he makes it super hard to say no. See, he was this God of a football star, I mean, this is Texas and we loooove our football, right? So, he was this all-star, all-state college-bound superstar that could do anything he wanted, make others do anything he wanted, and he did, but then one night he got drunk and thought a drive through the woods on an ATV was a good idea….”
“Stop it, Avery! That isn’t your story to tell!” Bodie yelled while grabbing Avery’s arms, pushing her away from me as she stumbles back. I’m left there in shock, mouth agape. Avery was apparently as vindictive as she was flirty and funny. Bodie and Avery stood off to the side whispering to each other when Avery stomped off to the now empty elevator landing. Bodie shook his head and then looked at me. “Sorry about that. They don’t really get along, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You apologize for them a lot. It’s only been a few days and you’ve already done it like a million times. Isn’t that exhausting?” I asked crossing my arms to stave off the uneasy feeling building inside me.
Bodie smirked, “You have no idea. But I’m sure there will be a million or so more apologies before the day is over. Come on, let’s go eat. I need to keep my strength up.”
I hadn’t even noticed that Zachery wasn’t there until we entered the dining room and I saw him sitting at a table with Malcolm. Avery was nowhere in sight. My gut twisted a little at the thought that she was off somewhere alone because of me. And then I heard a distinctive tinkling laugh from the far right corner. I turned to see Avery sitting at a table with a group of girls. When she met my eyes she smiled and mouthed the word ‘sorry’, and then went back to laughing.
She certainly bounces back fast!
Bodie and I got our breakfast and made our way to the table with Zachery and Malcolm, who were talking about sports.
“Well, at least we agree that Tim Duncan is the G.O.A.T! Your other choices are questionable at best,” Malcolm chided playfully.
“Whatever, man,” Zachery shook his head as bit into his taco ending their conversation.
“So what about you, Marjorie? What’s your favorite sport?” Malcolm asked between chews.
“Uh...I don’t like sports.” All eyes were on me and I felt my cheeks turn pink.
“You don’t like sports? How do you not like sports?” Malcolm sounded put out by my admission.
“I’m kinda clumsy so I’ve just never really tried,” I shrugged, feeling the heat in my face turn my cheeks pink.
“I don’t know, you got Avery pretty good with that punch the other day. Maybe boxing is your sport,” Malcolm replied with a satisfied grin on his face.
Damn those dimples!
“MMA. Definitely, MMA,” Zachery offered and they all nodded in agreement. I just rolled my eyes, “So then what do you like to do for fun?” Zachery asked. He looked different today. His dark circles were gone and he seemed less withdrawn. It was a good look for him.
“I like to read and watch movies, be outside. I write a little too, but I don’t share my stuff,” I can’t believe I admitted that to them, but I feel comfortable around them like I could tell them anything and not be judged. It’s so weird that after avoiding guys pretty much my whole life, that I would feel most free around them. Three of them no less, but I’m learning that life is full of strange surprises.
“What kind of books? Maybe we’ve read some of the same ones,” Bodie asked.
“Um, well I like Paranormal Fantasy books and Science Fiction books the best, but I’ll read pretty much anything.”
“Have you read Lord of the Rings? Or the Hobbit?” This time it was Zachery who had a hopeful look on his face. I shook my head no, “What? Oh man, you gotta, they’re so great. Epic Fantasy is where it’s at.”
“Eh, I couldn't get past the first chapter, but the movies are awesome,” Malcolm inserted into the conversation. Zachery’s eyes bulged comically and he made funny noises in place of words, obviously at odds with Malcolm's thoughts.
“So then what are your favorite books, Marjorie?” Bodie asked.
“Pride and Prejudice, John Carter of Mars books, Warrior Chronicles, the Mortal Instruments...books like those. But I didn’t really have many options. My mom didn’t approve of any book but the Bible so Sierra would bring me random books and if I liked it she would get me the rest in the series.” I was rambling suddenly feeling very chatty.
“Who’s Sierra?”
“What?” I looked to Malcolm and then to Zachery who was looking a bit pale again. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest at the thought of having this conversation and hoping that if I gave a vague enough answer he would drop it. “Uh, she was my best friend.”
“And she’s not anymore?” I was uncomfortable with where the conversation had suddenly landed and I could tell that Zachery was too. I sat there unable to speak, unable to move. Thank God for Bodie’s perceptiveness.
“I don’t think she wants to talk about that, Malcolm.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosey. I was just trying to keep you talking.” I thought for a moment about what he said. I could understand what he was trying to do; after all, I had learned quite a bit about them but had yet to really share anything personal of my own. But I didn’t want to out Zachery either. I met his eyes quickly and he smiled giving an almost imperceptible nod. I let out a deep breath pushing past the ache in my heart.
“Sierra died last year in a car accident.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Fuck.” I could hear the regret in his voice, but how was he to know?
“It’s okay Malcolm. I don’t talk about her because no one has ever asked about her. She was my only friend and the best person I’ve ever known. She should be talked about, but I don’t know how to do that without feeling...without feeling everything all at once. Someday I hope that I can, but for right now, I can’t.” Tears streaked my cheeks and my heart was pounding even harder in my chest. Spots formed in my periphery as I was waiting for them to say I was ridiculous or overly dramatic, but they didn’t.
“I understand,” was all he said before he turned back to Zachery, “So about those movies, Zach.”
When I went back up to my room Avery was waiting for me. She was sitting in the chair along the left wall reading a book when I walked in. “Um…what are you doing in my room?”
I really hope she doesn’t make a habit of this.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was hangry before that whole Malcolm thing, and, well, when I’m hangry I say and do stupid things. He just rubs me the wrong way, you know, and I didn’t want him to take advantage of you. I can tell you’re a sweet girl and incredibly naïve. He’d steamroll you, and I don’t want that for you.” She seemed sincere, but I didn’t know if I could trust her motives either.
“And, what do you want for me, then?” I said crossing my arms over my chest. Avery studied me a moment before she stood and made her way over to me stopping about a foot from me. It made me a little uncomfortable standing so close to her. She definitely liked getting into people's personal space.
“I want to be your friend. And, to protect you from all of the dangers that lurk here, like no one did for me. Maybe that’s a bit selfish of me, but I don’t care. Us girls have to stick together, right? And to show that I’m sorry I brought magazines and stickers!” She walked over to my desk and picked them up. Shaking them for emphasis.
“What’s all that for?”
“I thought we could look through the magazines and find some stuff that you’d like to decorate your door with. We can put up hot guys, sexy girls, favorite movies...stuff like that, if you’re interested.” I looked at all the magazines in her hands and my stomach dropped.
“I don’t really have favorites. It ne
ver mattered what I liked so I never really thought about any of that.” She let out a defeated sigh, put the items back on my desk, and stepped closer to me.
“Well, that just won’t do. Look, I spent my whole life trying to be someone I’m not, pretending to be the perfect ‘straight’ daughter. But here? I don’t have to do that and neither do you. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to leave these magazines here and you’re going to look through them. When you see something that catches your eye, rip it out and make a pile. When you’re ready, we’ll get some tape and put them on your door. This is your time to find you Marjorie, to find your voice so that no one can ever silence you again. Deal?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” It all seemed kind of silly to me even though I knew she was right.
“Promise me you’ll at least try? What would it hurt to at least look?”
“Okay, but only if you promise not to jump down Malcolm’s throat every time he says anything to me. I’m not a scared puppy in need of rescue.” She giggled.
“Well, you kinda are, but I get what you’re saying. I’ll let you fight your own battles until you ask for help, okay?” I nodded and she stuck her hand out for me to shake, “Friends?” Friends? Did I want to make friends when we were all eventually going to go our separate ways? Or maybe the friendships I make here will be strong enough to last? I was suddenly reminded of a conversation I had with Sierra on just this topic.
We were sitting on the bench outside at recess watching the other kids play tag. I had a scowl on my face thinking about how dumb it all looked when Sierra sighed. I looked and saw a girl who longed to be on the other side of where she was with me.
“You know it’s okay if you want to go play Sierra. I’ll be fine.” She sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest.
“No, it’s okay.” Her voice betrayed her words just as mine had done only a moment ago.
“Sierra, I’m sorry. I know I hold you back. I’m a terrible friend.” A tightness in my chest began to form as tears welled in my eyes.
“Hey, come on now, none of that. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“But I’m not the best friend you could have or the one you deserve.” A stray tear rolled down my cheek despite my best efforts to keep them at bay.
“And what about what you deserve?” I shrugged.
“I don’t deserve anything.”
“That’s just your mom talking. You deserve a lot better than you get Marjorie.” It had been a few years since Sierra learned the truth of my home life. She said she was going to tell her parents, but I begged her not to. My mom had put the fear in me about where I would go if anyone came to take me from them.
“I know you hate her, but she’s my mom.”
“I don’t hate her. I hate what she does to you. I swear Marjorie one day we’re gonna get you away from her and things will change for you. I know this girl isn’t you, and once she’s out of your life you’ll see I’m right. But for now, how about we focus on making friends?”
“Nobody wants to be my friend. They all think I’m weird.”
“Well you are, but that’s beside the point.” She pushed back the strand of hair that hung in front of my face, forcing me to meet her eyes, “Seriously Marjorie, take a chance - you might be surprised. You did with me and look what happened.”
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head looking down at the brown patch of grass beneath my feet.
“Why not?”
“Because then they’ll all know.” I could feel her eyes on me and it felt like years before she finally spoke.
“Okay.” I felt terrible when I heard the defeated tone in her voice. I had disappointed her, but I couldn’t push past my fear. From that day on I faked a headache during recess at least three times a week so that Sierra got to play. It wasn’t the best situation, but at the time it was all I could do.
But now? Now I have the chance to prove her right. I have the chance to make her proud even if she’ll never see it.
Okay Sierra, here I go.
“Friends,” I said as I took her hand in mine and shook it.
Chapter 7
Avery
Geez, I'm such a basket case!
First I scared the poor girl and got knocked down by a mean right hook for my effort, then I told her I'm a lesbian and got all flirty with her when she didn’t run off, and to cap it off I started an unnecessary hanger induced confrontation brought on by my growing intolerance of Malcolm. All in all, three epic ways to fail a first, second and third impression. Malcolm was right, and I loathe admitting it, but for fuck’s sake, Avery!
I guess, at least, I'm a big enough person to admit my mistakes, unlike Malcolm, God forbid he ever make any.
Ugh! I've got to stop with this whole Malcolm thing!
Or at the very least tell him why I have this grudge against him. Not that he cares. He just goes on with his day, paying me or my obvious dislike for him no mind. But if I’m going to be friends with Marjorie or...more, then I’ve got to settle this grievance with Malcolm because I can see the way he looks at her and I’ll be honest, it's not the kind of look I expected from him given his reputation.
With my mind made up I marched over to Malcolm's room and knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer right away I figured he was working a kitchen shift or doing laundry, but as I turned to go I heard the doorknob click. He had a wary expression on his face. I guess I can understand that. In the five months we had been floor mates I never once knocked on his door.
"Yeah?" his voice was deep and fuck me if I couldn’t admit that he’s panty-dropping sexy. Unfortunately, that was also the reason for my anger and bitterness towards him.
"I was wondering if we could talk?" his head snaps back at my question. A look of ‘dafuk’ plastered on his face.
"You... want to talk... to me? Why?" Skepticism, okay I definitely deserved that.
"I want to explain some stuff. About my attitude towards you.."
"I don't need an explanation..." he cut me off, so I returned the favor, stamping down the irritation.
"You do. You might not want it, but you deserve it. So, can I come in?" he didn't say anything just shrugged and stepped back letting me in. His room was as I expected, covered in football memorabilia and inspo boards.
Some people just can't let go. At least it doesn't smell like a jock-strap in here. Not helpful, Avery!
"You're in, so talk," he grumbled, knocking me out of my thoughts.
"Right, so, I know you had no idea who I was before we became floormates, but I knew you. Or of you anyway, which, I know given your worship status in this football-obsessed state isn't exactly newsworthy. Anyway, can I sit?" I asked pointing to his desk chair since he was already on his bed leaning against the headboard. He shrugged. How succinct.
Stop it, Avery!
I sat and got as comfortable as I could, "So, anyway, you actually met a really good friend of mine at a party about a year ago. Her name is Megan," I pause to see if the name rings a bell. It doesn't, so I continue, "She called me that night all excited about meeting you saying you were so sweet and attentive and how she really thought you liked her." He shifted a little.
Maybe he did remember? Or maybe his leg was bothering him?
"I told her that you would be lucky to have her- because you would. Anyway, she hung up the phone full of hope. And I was happy for her, until around two a.m. I got another call from her. This time she was in tears. I could barely understand her, she was crying so hard. She slept with you and as soon as you 'got yours', you took off without even so much as a wet wipe for her effort. Now, I'm not mad that you lied to her because she believed what she wanted to all on her own, and I'm not mad that you took her virginity and didn't look back because, according to her, she gave it willingly. I'm mad because an experienced person, such as yourself, could have seen her naivete from a mile away and yet you pounced on her. Instead of going after those girls that would willingly fuck you twelve ways from Sun
day, you went after my friend. And even if you didn’t know it right away, you knew it soon enough that you could have let her down easy. But you didn’t. You took what you wanted and ruined a sweet girl, making her bitter and angry. Why did you do that? Why are guys like you under the impression that you're entitled to take what you want without thought or consequence?" Hot, angry tears streamed down my cheeks as he sat there silent and unblinking. "Say something!" I demanded, arms flying in the air.
"What do you want me to say? What will make it better? What will make you see me differently?" I sat there, mouth hung open like a door with a broken hinge. I blinked rapidly, not being able to wrap my head around his arrogance and lack of remorse.
"Wow! I came here in hopes that you would prove me wrong and show me that you have some redeeming qualities, but you don't, do you?" Still nothing but a blank stare. I jumped out of the chair and hurried to the door. Just as I grabbed the handle he spoke.
"I'm sorry," I turned to him, "I do remember your friend. And for what it's worth, I was in a really bad place back then,” he paused, looking off into space like he was trying to figure out something to say before he let out a heavy breath and nodded his acquiescence. “I had just found out I had cancer in my leg and that if I wanted any shot of living they would have to amputate. They scheduled my surgery for the next day and admitted me to the hospital, but when my parents went home I snuck out and went to that party where I met your friend. I just wanted one more night where I could forget about my leg and all the things I was going to lose with it. I wasn't planning on sleeping with your friend, but somewhere after my fifth drink or so I started feeling the weight of it all. I tried to leave, but she wouldn't let me. She pulled me into the hall and started kissing me and I thought why not? It’ll be a long time, if ever, that a beautiful girl like her will want to touch me again. After, I noticed that my dad had called my phone and texted me a few times. The last text said he knew where I was and that he was on his way to get me. I got dressed as fast as I could and took off. So, you're right, I used her and I took off, but not for the reasons you think. I'm not a bad person Avery, but that night, I'll admit, I was the worst person possible to her, and I'm sorry." He sat there eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. He looked weak and as big as he is, that's a hard thing to do.
