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

around to stand next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Marianne leaned her face into his shoulder. “What did you do today?” she asked.

“I was very helpful around the house,” he said, smiling. “I had to distract myself from wanting to go pull you out of class.”

Marianne pinched him on the arm, smiling into his face. “You always know what I’m thinking.”

Danielle tossed her bowl roughly into the sink. “You guys wanna take that somewhere else, please?”

Marianne rolled her eyes and stepped away from Patrick. “I should get Nana’s pills sorted for this week.” She went halfway down the hall and then came back and popped her head into the kitchen. “Hey, Patrick,” she said. “Can you bring Nana down to the salon tomorrow? I need to give her a roller set.”

Patrick looked at her and something weird flickered across his face. It looked almost like sadness. Almost. He smiled quickly, though, and it was gone. “What time?”

Marianne sputtered out something. She might have said two o’clock.

Patrick nodded. “Sounds great.”

He seemed happy about it now, but Marianne was still worried that she’d been presumptuous of his time. Maybe he had plans. Maybe he just didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want Patrick to sacrifice anything for her. “Actually,” said Marianne, pulling her stare back from the ether. “I’ll just come home at lunch and pick her up. Never mind.”

“No.” Patrick shook his head. “I want to see your school.”

Danielle turned around from the frying pan. “No, you don’t,” she said. “Marianne, don’t let him go down there. He’ll freak out and make you wear a HEPA mask to school every day.”

“Yeah, we have a bit of a black mold problem,” said Marianne, laughing. “But seriously, you don’t want to sit around with a bunch of old ladies under dryers.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, firmly. “I’ll just bring my inhaler. Go finish up so I can abduct you.”

“You have an inhaler?” Allergies weren’t very Kryptonian.

Patrick stared at her, blank-faced. “Yeah, I keep it with my pocket protector.”

“You really have an inhaler?”

“No.”

Marianne smiled and left. He really seemed fine. She must have misread him, before. It wouldn’t have been the first time. And Patrick had never planned a date ahead of time, so she decided to take this abduction as proof that he wasn’t sick of her yet. She went into Nana’s bedroom and started plopping pills into the plastic organizer, trying to hurry so they could leave. Her only worry about tonight was the eating issue if they went to dinner.

Okay, it wasn’t her only worry. She was always nervous, but she hadn’t realized that until Sally had brought it up. Marianne tried not to actively think about all the emotions that plagued her all day long, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t. If she really got honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she was a wreck. Just one little tight ball of dread. It wasn’t right. She was a good girl, mostly. She did her best, but was that enough to keep Patrick around? That question was unknowable, just like the next one.

What the hell was she going to do to herself when he was finally gone? Marianne only worked on that answer at night, when she was falling asleep. The despair of that situation only felt real to her in that dreamy, anything-can-happen state of mind. It wasn’t a fun train of thought, but it was rather fascinating. And almost addicting...

Patrick interrupted her whacked-out contemplations when he came and stood at the door of the bedroom. He didn’t say anything, just watched her work.

Marianne finished with the second bottle and screwed the old-lady-proof cap back on. “Did you know that you can’t even handle these if you’re pregnant? That’s scary.” Marianne looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back at her but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another bottle and opened it. One for Monday. One for Tuesday. One for Wednesday—

“I love you, Marianne.”

Marianne’s hands froze. She turned her head and stared at him. Patrick leaned his head against the door frame, and just watched her. She swallowed and looked back at the pills. One... for... Thursday... She spilled the bottle of tiny pink tablets all over the dresser. Should she take one? No. What? Marianne had absolutely no clue what she should do right now.

Um, um, um... was all she could think. She started gathering up the little pills. She had to stop halfway through, though, because her hands were shaking so badly. Marianne stared at the dresser. Her voice was pathetically squeaky when she spoke. “Um... can you please leave?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Marianne saw Patrick straighten up and walk away. What had she just done? She looked up at the empty doorway, but couldn’t make herself call him back. She liked that doorway empty. It was okay. She’d make up for her rudeness later, but she needed to collect herself first. She just needed a minute.

Patrick loved her.

She took a deep breath. The room smelled like vitamins and lavender and thirty-year-old carpet. It made her want to vomit. His words were too foreign for her to comprehend just yet. Marianne leaned over the dresser and tried to breathe. She was unsuccessful. Her tongue felt all cramped.

Weren’t people supposed to feel all euphoric and complete at moments like this? She didn’t. She felt hollow or two-dimensional. Not at all like an emotional human being, but like an analytical robot trying to compute something far beyond its programming. Who was she? Who was she really, that Patrick could say something like that to her? Marianne couldn’t get her eyes to stay still. She blinked and blinked and took in the sight of all the prescriptions and trinkets on the dresser. She loved Patrick, and he loved her.

Happy was there... somewhere. But she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel anything, not anything that she cared to name. Self-loathing and paralyzing doubt were