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

She dropped her hands and stared at Christian. She was pleading; almost whining. “How am I supposed to explain something like that to Patrick? He wouldn’t understand. You don’t even know the crap that went on. You don’t even know.” She stopped and waited for him to hand her a miracle. Some mystical insight on Patrick that would help her.

“Hmm,” was all he said. He shifted a little in his seat. And that look on his face...

Was he seriously sitting there judging her? Right in the middle of smoking a joint? Marianne sat up straighter. “Just say it,” she snapped. “You think I don’t know already?”

He held up his hand and shrugged. Like there was nothing he could say. Like she was a lost cause. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Marianne stood up and waited for him to speak, but he just stared, obviously shocked. “Forget it. I have to get back inside.”

She left her beer by the chair and went toward the house. She passed the fountain on her way in—a teddy bear spewing water from a honey jar—but she couldn’t care. She ducked into the first bathroom she could find and locked the door. She sat on the edge of the tub long enough for two separate people to wait by the door, knock politely, try the handle, and then leave. Breathe. She walked over to the tacky mirror etched around the rim with cloudy swirls and fixed her hair. Fricking Christian. By the end of the conversation, it was clear that Patrick hadn’t told him anything at all. He was just trying to be cool and prophetic. Idiot. Marianne put a smile on her face and went back to the party, ready to claw anyone who tried to give her crap.

Patrick wasn’t in the living room, so she walked around from room to room to find him. She’d just spotted Ivan and Hector on the back patio and waved to them when someone grabbed her upper arm. Tightly. She turned around, and Patrick leaned down to her ear. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah,” she said hesitantly.

He turned and started walking through the room, dragging her along. A few people gave him curious looks, but he didn’t seem to care. They passed through the living room, through the front hall, around a couple by the door, and outside. He shut the front door with his free hand and walked down the driveway with her, even faster than before. He released her on the sidewalk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

She stared at him in shock for a second and then looked around in confusion. “Like what?”

“This is…” Patrick stopped speaking and shook his head back and forth, like he was trying to get control of himself. “Marianne, I can’t wait any longer. It has to be now. You have to tell me what’s going on with you. Right now.” His voice was hard, especially on the last two words.

“Nothing’s going on,” said Marianne, bewildered. “I was in the bathroom. Were you worried? I was just walking around, and then I went to the bathroom.”

“Now, Marianne,” he said through his teeth.

“You’re gonna have to ask me a specific question,” she said, taking a tiny step back. She didn’t like where this was going. “I’m confused.”

“You’re confused.”

“Totally,” she nodded, feeling defensive. Panicky. “I don’t know what you’re trying to ask me about right now.” She could hear the blatant lie in her own voice.

Patrick heard it, too, and threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell, Marianne?”

“What?” she said sternly. “What are you talking about?”

“Christian,” he said.

Oh, crud. “What about him?”

Patrick clenched his jaw. “Stop lying to me,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m not.” Marianne lifted her shoulders. “I just don’t know what you’re getting at.” Not exactly, anyway.

“He just came up to me.” Patrick pointed back toward the house. “He said he’s fricking worried about us. You talked to him? You told him that you’re keeping all sorts of crap from me. You talked to him. About us!”

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to share anything private, not really. I just started talking crap, you know? I shouldn’t have said anything to him about us. You’re right. That’s not his business.”

Patrick’s expression didn’t change at all. “That’s not the apology I’m looking for.”

“Which one do you want?” But she knew.

He put his hands up to his head, almost shaking. “What is wrong with you? Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

Marianne stepped back from his sudden nastiness. She hadn’t seen this side of him before. And he looked like he could hit something.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, almost to himself. “I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“No.” Patrick shook his head. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Knock it off,” he hissed.

She gasped at his tone. Who the hell did he think he was? “You knock it off!” Marianne put her hands on his chest and shoved him back. “Tell me what you want to hear, and I’ll say it, but you can’t just haul me outside and yell at me.”

“I want you to be honest with me.”

“Oh, please.” Marianne raised her eyebrows. “If you wanted to talk,” she made finger quotes, “then you wouldn’t have dragged me out here and started freaking out like this. You just want an excuse to yell at me some more.”

“Maybe!” He got right in her face again. “Nothing else has worked. Maybe I do want to yell at you.”

“No thanks,” she said sweetly. “I’ll pass.”

Patrick stepped back. Marianne could almost see the rest of his patience burn up at that moment. “Marianne.” He held up his hand between them. “I can’t...”

She waited.

“I can’t handle this anymore,” he said.

Marianne creased her forehead. “What can’t you handle?”

“You.” He stepped back from her. “I can’t handle