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

pillow. “We could give these to the kids. Mickey would like the box.”

Marianne got down on her knees and looked under the bed. “You haven’t found a syringe anywhere, right?”

“Nah. He probably had it in his duffel bag.” He walked over to the dresser and tossed the box down, but it rolled off a nail polish bottle and spilled onto the floor. “Shoot.”

Marianne started to crawl over, but Patrick crouched down and waved her away. “I’ll get it,” he said. “You can start pulling down the cupids.”

Marianne turned, put one foot on her bed to step up, and heard Patrick gasp behind her.

9

Prophylactically Challenged

Marianne looked over at where Patrick was bending over the box of spilled chocolates. She saw him quickly pocket something that made a little crackling noise.

“What’s that?”

Patrick turned his face away from her. “Nothing. Just candy.” He sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Don’t lie, now.”

“It’s nothing.”

Marianne dropped the trash bag she was holding and went to kneel by him. “Show me.”

Patrick just shook his head.

“It was my gift, and I want it. Right now.”

Patrick sighed and pulled the secret out of his pocket. He held out two little square candy wrappers in the palm of his hand.

“What?” Marianne looked up at him; he was laughing again. “What are they? Those little Limon packets, like from the ice cream truck?”

Patrick gaped at her. “Yes.” He nodded, trying to compose himself. “Yes, they’re the little lime candies from the ice cream man.”

Marianne tried to reach for them, but he pulled his hand back. “Stop it,” she said and snatched one off his hand.

She turned it over a couple of times in her hand and then read the package. “What’s Durex? Play vibrations, lubricated latex…” Marianne gasped and covered the condom with her other hand. She looked up at Patrick in horror. “These were in the box? On my pillow?”

Patrick nodded. “He really likes you, darling.” He pried her hands apart and took the defiling object from her.

Marianne wiped her hands down her jeans and then got up and ran to the kitchen. She grabbed the sponge, covered it with antibacterial soap, and scrubbed at her palm.

Patrick strode in behind her a second later. “What are you doing?” He dumped the condoms in the kitchen trashcan.

“Don’t put those in there! My parents might see.” Marianne pumped another dollop of soap into her palm and started on her other hand. “I don’t know… I don’t want herpes or anything.”

“They’re unused and hermetically sealed, Marianne. I think you’ll be all right.” Patrick fished the packages out and stuck them in his pocket. “And secondly, that’s not how you get herpes.”

Marianne paused her scrubbing and looked up at him. “No?”

“Um, and thirdly,” he added, shaking his head. “Did you never take sex ed?”

“No, actually.” Marianne turned back to her scrubbing. “I was mostly raised in a hamster ball called homeschooling, and my then mom opted me out of all that stuff in high school. She didn’t want me putting those thingies on anything, even bananas.”

“By thingies, I suppose you mean condoms.”

“Shh!” Marianne looked nervously out the window for her parents’ car; she’d just die if her Mom came home and joined this conversation.

“Even so...” Patrick leaned back on the counter next to her, watching her OCD display. “How could a man-eater like you not recognize a condom when it’s put right in your hand?”

“Well, I’ve never actually seen one in person,” said Marianne defensively. “And I just wasn’t expecting—” She spun around to face him. “Man-eater?”

Patrick grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, distressingly close, her nose nearly touching his chest. Her mouth was still open in shock when he put his other hand under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him.

Patrick smiled a little. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this again.”

Marianne blinked once. “Do what?” she breathed. Her hands were still soapy, and the one he held in his was trickling suds down her forearm.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared down at her with that uncomfortable smile on his face. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“I…” Marianne stared up at him, hardly able to think with his hand on her chin like that. It was as if her mind was working ten times its normal speed, and yet she wasn’t getting anywhere. The minutes’ worth of thought that passed in that few seconds came down to this: The moment she’d been wanting had finally come. But, however wonderfully it turned out, she didn’t want to actually experience it or have to participate. She felt like a coward, but that was fitting because she actually was a coward.

“I’ve asked you out twice already,” said Patrick. “You’re doing a real number on my self-respect, you know that?”

“Um… what?” Marianne swallowed. “I didn’t know… I never…” Considering the fact that she had absolutely nothing to say, she trailed off.

Patrick just waited politely, then asked, “What were you saying?”

“Nothing.” She scrunched up her forehead, trying to look confused so he would take over the conversation again. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

He matched her expression. “I’m asking you out for the third time in a week.”

“Oh.” She swallowed and waited, but he obviously still considered it her turn to speak. Well, if he could be direct, so could she. “Why?”

He looked at her more closely and spoke slowly. “Because I want to date you.”

How was she still standing? “You do?”

“Um…” He really didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. “That’s the usual reason for this type of harassment, yes.”

Marianne stepped back, pulling her hand away from him. “I didn’t know… I mean, I didn’t think you really meant it before.”

“You thought I didn’t mean it?” Patrick frowned and crossed his arms. “So, you’re saying I’m a liar?”

“What? No!” Marianne stepped back again.

“Yes,” he said seriously. “You are. And I would like you to stop doing that.”

Marianne nodded.

Patrick nodded back. “Now,” he said, gesturing toward her, “to the