Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

what Marianne could see, these Goths were as hypocritical as any other group. You’re a sellout if you accept any man-made expectation of proper attire, but your clothing had better have an edgy, death-laced quality to it, or you’re bourgeois sleaze. Marianne smiled. “Nope, they didn’t bother me. It’s one of the benefits of conforming to mainstream standards.”

Sally groaned, and Marianne gave her an apologetic smile. She’d promised not to bring up “standards” in front of Georgia anymore. Turns out, no one except Marianne enjoyed listening to Georgia’s absurd pontifications on the subject.

Georgia took a deep breath, about to begin a recitation of her stock lecture on capitalist exploitation, existential crises, and the inseparability of joy and sorrow, when Sally suddenly stood up, pointing. “Oh, hey...”

Georgia whipped her head around to look. “What?”

“I think Todd is calling you.”

“Ugh,” sighed Georgia dramatically. “He probably wants me to carry all his junk in my bag again.”

“That’s likely,” said Sally.

“I’m gonna sneak off the other way,” said Georgia. “Don’t tell him where I went.” And she was gone.

After watching Georgia scurry away, Sally sat down by Marianne. “What is wrong with you?”

Marianne shrugged. “I was being chatty like you wanted.”

Sally took out a cheap cherry cigar, her flavor of the month, and pulled off the wrapper. “Learn to behave or I won’t bring you here anymore.”

“Relax.” Marianne glanced up at the night sky, the clouds turning a murky purple as they reflected the city lights. “After I do the deed tonight, I’m never stepping foot in this loathsome place again, anyway.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“You are so full of it,” said Sally, ashing onto the bush behind them. “Two days of that cave troll existence you call a life, and you’ll be begging me to take you out again. Besides, the Dark Lord is just going to give you that pitiful face again, and you’ll take him back. I have no faith in you.”

Sally was probably right, but there was no need for Marianne to admit it out loud. “That almost sounds like a compliment coming from you,” said Marianne. “Isn’t faith a dirty word in your book?”

Sally moved in close to Marianne and made kissing noises with her blood-red lips.

“Stop it.” Marianne shoved her. “You’re going to smear your death face all over me.”

Sitting back, Sally took another puff off her cigar, surrounding them both in a thick cloud. “I warned you from the beginning it was a bad idea to date him.”

“No way!” said Marianne. “I must not have been listening to you every second of every day for the last two weeks.”

“I believe these were my exact words...” Eyes unfocused, Sally waved her hand slowly through space in front of her. “Lying is a sin against love. The universe will reject that kind of abominable—”

Marianne raised her voice. “Do you want to know why people in class make fun of you?”

Sally kept blabbing. “—universe abhors a vacuum. Lying about love creates a black hole rift in the psychic energy around you—”

“What the…” said Marianne. “You need a remedial course in physics. And definitely a theology course.”

Sally dropped her cigar on the ground and stomped on it. “Are you listening to me?”

“No.” Marianne picked up Sally’s litter and threw it in the ashtray. “I’m too distracted by this ludicrous chimera religion you’ve created.”

Sally tilted her head to the side. “Chimera?”

“You know, like a liger.”

“Ah yes,” Grinning, Sally nodded. “Those things are sweet.”

“Hardly.” After kicking off her shoes, Marianne crossed her legs Indian style on the bench. “They’re sterile and sickly. Aren’t you supposed to be an environmentalist or something?”

“Certainly. But ligers are sweet; you can’t change that.”

“They’re grotesque,” said Marianne. “Just like that grotesque imaginary religion you cling—”

“Time’s up, girl.” Sally pointed behind Marianne. The Dark Lord must have appeared.

“Nooo...” whined Marianne, closing her eyes. Slipping her shoes back on, Marianne stood up with her bag and turned around to face the poor little scumbag she was pretending to like. Just on the other side of the fence, Dark Lord Alvin was standing with Georgia and too busy talking to notice he was being watched. Marianne had the privilege of catching the tail end of their conversation.

“Yeah, I go to that club all the time,” said Alvin with a smarmy grin, “I know the owner, Jannie.”

“No way!” said Georgia. “Sick.”

Alvin clucked his tongue and hitched up the collar of his trench coat. “Yeah… I know her really well, if you get what I mean.”

Marianne didn’t want to vomit in Disney’s carefully manicured bushes, so she turned and walked up the steps toward the Haunted Mansion. Or maybe she was just buying more time before she had to face him. Finding a secluded spot in the shadows to hide, she pulled out her cell, flipped it open, and called home. “Dad? I wanted you to know that I’m going to be home a few minutes late.”

Dad was silent for a few seconds. “Okay,” he said, but he sounded as if he was trying not to laugh.

“What?” said Marianne.

“Nothing, baby,” he said in a strained voice. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Marianne glared at the phone for a moment before putting it to her ear again. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You know exactly why I’m laughing at you.”

“You said I should call if I would be home after curfew!”

“What curfew?”

Marianne rolled her eyes.

Probably sensing her reaction, he didn’t wait for her to speak. “You’re eighteen. I asked you to call if you were going to be unreasonably late. A few minutes past ten hardly sounds unreasonable.”

“Fine,” said Marianne. “So sorry for bothering you.”

“I forgive you,” he said, snickering.

“You know what?” said Marianne. And she hung up on him.

Unbelievable. Here she is, trying to be responsible, and he makes fun of her. She should think up some rebellious thing to do just to teach him gratitude. Maybe she could borrow some of Georgia’s cranberry juice, douse herself in it, and pretend to stumble into the house...

Dark Lord Alvin’s voice suddenly drifted to her through the noise of