📂 OPEN FILE : FOOLS (marcus baker)
─── ❝ only fools fall for you, marcus baker,
and i am not one of them, ❞ ───
︴ 3rd person point of view
︴ marcus baker x fem oc!
︴ full description inside
︴ slow updates
︴ read in dark mode
︴ s...
JOE'S BLUE FARM café is Marigold's favourite spot in all of Wellsbury. If she could write an essay how the café saved her, she would write a whole book. Joe, the man who owns the café, is the only adult in Wellsbury that Marigold likes to think as someone who truly understands her.
"Mari Moon, what can I get you this fine day?" Joe asks her, noticing her seated on the breakfast bar. "Aren't you a little hot in that turtleneck, Miss Moon?"
Marigold lets out a light laugh, getting her reading book out from her bag. She's been reading Jane Eyre and she is almost done with it. Reading is her escapism. Nothing makes her more free than when she's buried deep inside a book, the words coming alive around her.
"You know me, Joe, do I ever do what the conventional society does?" Marigold comments, trying not to look like she's going to pass out from the heat on her body. "But did you know that a new family from Texas or someplace moved here a few days back?"
Joe nods his head, signalling to Marigold to ask her whether she wants her usual and she mouths a yes to him.
The talk of the new girl was hot news in school. Ginny Miller and her gorgeous mum. Ginny Miller this. Ginny Miller that. Marigold didn't particularly speak to the new girl in town but she caught glimpses of her in school, hanging out with Marcus Baker's sister, Maxine, and her group of friends.
"Georgia, the mum, came to the café a few hours back," Joe comments, tilting the coffee cup to make the latte art. "She was talking to the Mayor."
Joe places the latte he made for Marigold in front of her atop a tiny saucer. He picks up a cloth and begins to dry the cups hanging by the sink.
"I heard she was beautiful. Do you think so?"
"Beauty is subjective," he answers her plainly, not addressing it any further.
Marigold quietens, not saying anything for the next hour that she sits at the breakfast bar, sipping on her coffee and reading her book. She's been thinking of ways that she can possibly ask Joe for a job at the café.
"Joe, can I talk to you about something?" She asks him, looking from the page she was reading.
"Hm hm," he hums in reply.
Marigold heaves a breath, placing her book face flat on the table, keeping it open on the page she's been reading.
"I need a job, Joe, and I was really hoping you'd allow me to work here," she says all too fast, not daring to look Joe in the eyes.
