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

“Right,” said Marianne. “So, how does it feel to have that little self-respect?”

“Like crap, darling,” said Sally. “It feels like crap. But not everyone is like you. Not everyone finds the mythical Patrick at the end of the rainbow. Some of us have to make hard choices.”

Georgia sighed. “Ah, Alvin.”

Marianne looked at Georgia. “There we go—I was wondering when you were going to chime in and make this all about you.”

Georgia scowled. “Thanks, Master Bitch Slap.”

“Be careful there, young one,” said Marianne. “You are not yet skilled enough in sarcasm to spar with your master.”

“Whatever.” Georgia dropped her arm and stormed away.

Marianne stopped walking and crossed her arms. What a fricking brat. Why were girls always such pansies? It was just a joke. Geez.

“What was that?” asked Sally. “Too far, Marianne.”

“She’s just jealous that we’re BFF.”

“I am not your BFF.”

“Her acronym, not mine. I was quoting.” Marianne tried to walk forward, but Sally grabbed her arm.

“Are we, though?” asked Sally. “I mean, we don’t need necklaces or anything, but are we best friends?”

Oh geez. Marianne didn’t know how much more pansy behavior she could take. But then... Hell, maybe Sally really was her best friend. She loved her more than she loved most other people. And just as much as she loved Danielle, the only other candidate, so... “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

Sally smiled and lifted up her shoulders like a little girl. “I think so, too. I love you, Marianne.”

“And I love you,” said Marianne. “What’d you say we go make nice to our third wheel?”

Sally looked back at the party. “Everyone’s packing up. Why don’t you go, and I’ll get our stuff? I really think she needs just you on this one, anyway. You’re the one who was rude.”

“We just got married, and now you’re abandoning me?”

“I think I see her over by the cooler,” Sally said, and then left.

She found Georgia by the big red cooler, as promised.

“Georgia,” said Marianne. “I didn’t really mean that about taking over the conversation. I was just joking.”

Georgia stopped rummaging through the ice and looked up with a face full of attitude. “Forget it. I don’t feel like talking about it now.”

Marianne stepped closer and spoke lower. “I said that I was sorry. We’re friends, and I want you to be able to talk to me. I’m just insensitive sometimes. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care.” Well, no. It probably did mean that, but honesty like that probably wouldn’t help things.

Georgia stood up and flicked her fingers at Marianne’s face, sprinkling her with icy water. “Go away.”

Marianne blinked and moved back half a step. “Did you really just do that?”

Georgia set her jaw and flicked at Marianne again, even holding the position in midair for a long, dramatic second. The move translated to “go to hell” quite clearly.

Marianne wanted to laugh—the situation was definitely funny—but there was something else there, too. Her old pal, Guilt. She’d messed up on this one worse than she’d known. Georgia was more perceptive than Marianne had given her credit for. And Marianne realized that the wet fingers hanging in the air before her eyes said more than just “go to hell.” They said, “go to hell for not caring, and go to hell for pretending like you do.”

Marianne stepped back again. “Okay.” Even worse than admitting to herself that Georgia was right, was realizing that Georgia was wrong, too. Marianne actually did care about her; she just hadn’t known it till this moment. “I guess I should... should just leave you alone for now. Sorry.”

Marianne walked away to find Sally, but she seemed to have disappeared. Most everyone was already gone or heading back to the parking lot, so Marianne went that way. Maybe she’d get a chance to talk to Georgia on the drive home. Ben called to her when she was passing by the restrooms.

“Hey,” she said, walking over to him. “Are we ready to go?” She wasn’t in a better mood than when she’d seen him last, but the blinding hatred of the world at large was weakened enough that she noticed how nice he looked tonight. Cute and messy pink hair, tight grey dress shirt, black rock-star eyeliner. Very, very nice for someone whose name wasn’t Patrick Devlin.

“Yeah, just waiting for Todd.” He gestured behind him with his thumb.

“Ah, just like a couple of girls; can’t go to the bathroom alone.”

Ben laughed, but he looked a little nervous. “Nah, he’s just rolling one for the road.”

Bathroom joint. Yum. “Is Sally back at the car?” She started to step away, expecting a yes, but he stopped her by touching her arm.

“Where’d you go to before? I was looking for you.” He left his hand on her arm.

Why was he doing that? It was distracting. “Uh, we were just walking by the shore.”

He nodded. And then squinted at her. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

That was the universal segue into an interesting conversation. Who could resist one of those? “Yes,” she said, but she moved her arm out of his reach.

Ben bit his lip ring, looking like he was bracing himself for something. “Look, I... I know you have a boyfriend, so this is a little scummy of me—”

Oh no. Her whole chest tightened up with an indescribably wonderful feeling of panic. She was a traitor; she should not have been having this reaction. But it wasn’t exactly voluntary.

“—But I just thought I’d take a shot in the dark, you know? I can’t stop...” He paused and looked down, laughing at himself. “It’s so cheesy, but I can’t get you off my mind. You’re cool, and you’re different. And you’re, I don’t know, kind of mysterious. I don’t know how to describe you.”

He was doing just fine. Yikes.

“Ever since I talked to you that time about the books—this is so embarrassing—but I ask people about you. Just to find out random stuff. Not in a stalkerish way, though.” He grimaced and kicked his boot on the sidewalk a