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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1668595-A-Boy-Named-Marcus-C9
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Friendship · #1668595
A short story about a young girls love for someone she knows nothing about.
Chapter Nine



  You were just about to go to bed when your phone bleeped. It was a text from an anonymous number. It was very long, almost two pages but the more you read the more excited and anxious you got. You replied as quickly as possible.

  The next day you had a lie in like any normal teenager. It was about ten when you finally got out of bed. You’d got very bored with just lying on your bed and counting the luminous stars on your ceiling. There were thirty seven. You got washed and dressed and made your way downstairs.

  “You finally up,” Your mum said when she saw you, “It’s nearly dinner time!” You smiled,

  “Where’s dad?”

  “Outside, I think he’s broken the lawnmower!” You proceeded outside.

  Except from your brother, who was now away at work in London, your family life was a normal as it could be. Your father was a GP and your mother worked in a bank. Your mother and father loved being normal because when your brother had lived at home he got into trouble a lot and peoples judgement was that all of your family was like this. You lived in an average sized house with a small garden, in a collection of villages outside of town. There was a newsagents and post office down the road and a long line of houses following yours. Teenagers often hung around or made out on the street corners or at the dark ends of streets, you’d never done this.

  “Dad?” He looked up. He had a streak of black something down his cheek,

  “Yes?”

  “Um, I’m just gonna pop out for a bit,” You were biting your tongue while you said this, you never usually asked your parents for things. But this new found coolness you had gave you a strange new sense of power over how you could view and talk to other people,

  “I thought you were grounded missy!”

  “Oh yeah...Please? I ...erm...need to get something for school!” This was partly true, you needed to go in for something to do with school, it was only a white lie.

  “Oh yeah? What?”

  “My ink pen, it started leaking yesterday.” You squirmed inside at the direct lie you were telling, you just had to go into town.

  “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  “Ummm...you don’t?”

  “Well go on then,” He looked softly at you, you were always his favourite over Tom, your brother, and he seemed to exaggerate this and treat you very very softly.

  “Thank you!” You smiled widely and kissed the cheek without the black mark on. You skipped off back inside; you grabbed your bag from the kitchen table and headed off to the bus stop. As you sat in the bus, your head against the window your phone began to vibrate in your palm,

  “Hello?”

  “Hi!”

  “Um...sorry, but who’s this?”

  “Marcus Haj...This is Dalia Porter right?” It was Marcus, you should have recognised his voice from the first syllable he said, you didn’t know any other Americans, let alone any with a beautifully soft and calm drawl that he had.

  “Yes, it is, sorry!” You flustered,

  “Are you still grounded?”

  “Yeah, why?” You said shortly,

  “Oh, I was just wondering, cos I’m in town with a load of people, we were wondering if you could come in or-”

  “No I can’t. Sorry. Bye.” And you hung up. You were very sweaty. You added his number into your phone and tried to calm your nerves before getting off. If he saw you in town, you might just about kill yourself.

  You stepped off the bus into the bright sunlight of your nearest town centre; shops were towering above you all the way down the high street. You saw someone you knew, he was standing, one foot on the wall, in a street corner and chatting to a pretty girl you didn’t recognise. He ran towards you when he caught your eye and you embraced, you were all a tangle of arms and legs and long hair. You broke away and he cupped your face in his hands, you noticed his nails were dirty and his hands were unwashed. You looked up at him. It had been such a long time since you’d last seen him, you barely recognised him.

  “Oh My God! You’ve changed so much!” You cried and hugged him again, so tight that you thought you would never let go. He finally pulled back and put a skinny arm around your neck, you both walked off together,

  “I’ll catch you later!” He called back to the girl he’d been talking to, she scowled at him, “Come on darling, we need to sit down somewhere, have you got money?”

  “Is that the only reason you’re here?” Your eyes narrowed,

  “God no! Well, partly!”

  “It's nice to know your using me!” You grinned. You always felt so confident and sure of yourself whenever you were around him, this was part of the reason you loved him. You wished you could act this confident with everyone you met, not just him. You went into Coffee Republic and sat down at the back of the shop in some comfy chairs. He stretched out his legs and laid back.

  “You live in the lap of luxury don’t you?” He said with his eyes closed and his head back, over the edge of the seat.

  “I don’t know what you mean?” You slurped on your strawberry and banana smoothie. He faced you, a serious expression on his normally playful and grinning face,

  “Do you know how long I’ve been sleeping rough for?” You looked away, avoiding his pale grey/blue eyes.

  “Sorry.”

  “It's not my fault, fucking Dee Jakno, Spent all my money in Las Vegas,”

  “Did you have a good time?” He rested his feet, in tattered and worn trainers, on the table in the middle.

  “Yeah, it was alright while it lasted, then got kinda shit, Vegas is a pretty rough place-”

  “No, I don’t just mean Las Vegas, I mean like, everywhere you went...”

  “Yeah, same with that, was good while it lasted, now everything’s gone down the hole.”

  “You should get a job-” He laughed so loud at that, some people from other tables looked round in fright, “It's not funny, it’s what Mum and Dad think you are doing-”

  “They really still think I’m working? God they’re stupid! It’s like they don’t know me at tall” He pretended to study his grubby fingernail, “Well, they wish they didn’t...” His voice faded away at the end.

  “Tom... Don’t say that they-” But you were interrupted,

  “Could you please take your feet off the furniture,” He looked up; it was the blonde waitress, who had served you earlier,

  “Anything for you, Babe,” He said, and removed them. She turned away,

  “I’m not your ‘babe’ ” She said stiffly,

  “Soon you will be!” He craned round to look at her bum from behind,

  “Don’t!” You hissed, “You’ll get us chucked out!”

  “I can’t help it if she’s fit!” He smirked; he always was a ladies’ man, even at school. You were forever hearing his stories of the girls he had had. He told you he lost his virginity at twelve, though this was an exaggeration, it wasn’t far off the truth.

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend? What happened to Cindy Lemantall?”

  “Cindy Lemantall? When was she?”

  “Last time we spoke you were talking about her like all the time you said she was, ‘fit’, ‘Dirty’, ‘Naughty’, ‘Smokin’’ and ‘God, she will do anything’ ” You counted them off on your fingers. He seemed to think for a second,

  “Oh Cindy! Yeah, she was that Miami Babe we met in that strip club! She was smokin’ and when I said anything I meant anything!” He mimed something under the table and you looked away in disgust,

  “In that way, you really haven’t changed!” He laughed with you, then winked.

  “You ready to go?”

  “Yup! I think so!” You slung your pink bag over your shoulder and left. As you left, the blonde waitress gave you both an evil stare, Tom mouthed ‘call me’ at her and you left the cafe giggling. “So, where did you want to go?”

  “I have a list! Somewhere...I just need some necessary things, so go to the cheapest place, and I need some cash. But first, we need to find the nearest offy.”

  “Down here,” You hated yourself for saying it. You waited outside while he went in to get some ‘necessary items’. “You're not going to drink that now?” You asked, gesturing at the large bottle he had,

  “God no, it’s for later!” He said, lighting up a cigarette. You changed the subject;

  “Have you got a place to stay?” He took a long draw on the cigarette,

  “That, Dalia, is why I came to talk to you, instead of asking you to send some money over the post or something.” You raised your eyebrows sceptically; you thought you knew what he was getting at,

  “Mum and Dad won’t let you in the house. You know that.” He looked down at his worn trainers as you continued, “When you left, Mum had a complete spaz. She was saying how you didn’t care at tall about your education and your life and the money she spent on school was all wasted. She said she felt ashamed to call you her son and sometimes even wished you weren’t. She said that you weren’t welcome back home ever and that we were to never mention your name again.” He was silent,

  “I shouldn’t have done those things should I?” He said slowly. You smiled, “I was only fifteen though, kind of young and stupid-”

  “I’m fifteen!”

  “Yeah, let’s not talk about that though, let’s not talk about the past! That’s kinda boring!” You looked at him, a lit cigarette on his lip, tattered and dirty jeans, skinny, like he hadn’t eaten in days. His hair was unwashed and growing long. He had messy stubble all over his thin, pale face. You remembered when you were younger; he always cared for you. He always picked you up when you fell down, he always played with you when you wanted, you were the best friends ever, now he looked almost like a tramp. You felt a tear glisten in your eye. You wiped it away hurriedly. “Oh babe? What is it?” You didn’t reply, you just kept looking at his grubby face. He swept you up in his thin arms again and hugged you tightly. You laid your head on his shoulder, letting your tears fall freely now, not caring if it would smudge your makeup or not.

  “I just hate seeing you like this...” You whispered, He hugged you tighter.

  “You mean all....rough?” He suggested. You giggled slightly,

  “I don’t know,” You buried your head in the crook of his neck. Your tears washing it slightly. You heard someone giggle behind you but didn’t care. You kept your face in Toms shoulder; He kept his arms wrapped tightly around your back. Then the giggle was louder. You opened your eyes and looked up. You almost fainted. It was Poppy Tanners and Sadie Clemens, and in between them, his arm around both of their necks, was Marcus Haj. He had a confused expression on his face.

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