Happily

Chapter Sixteen: Pre-C Stars

I dropped Marcel off right before curfew. Pecking him on the lips, I watched him bound up the stairs happily. Shaking my head, I smiled and drove off. I decided, while driving under the shining stars, that I never wanted to live another day without him. If there was one thing, one person, I couldn’t live without, it would be Marcel Styles.

+

            I woke up the next morning determined. I was going to be out, I needed to be out. After Marcel decided to start dressing like a normal person, he got downright hot. Everyone was into him even though they knew he was gay. I couldn’t go around pretending like I didn’t care anymore; like it didn’t matter. He was mine and I was his.

            So I woke up in the morning and threw on my vans and snapback, without ripped skinny jeans and a sweatshirt. Mum said I looked like a fuckboy, which had me running up to change my sweatshirt to a t-shirt, even though it was November.

+

            As I stepped out of my car I caught a hint of Marcel’s unhealthily tight jeans and converse. “Marcel,” I whispered. He whipped around and walked towards me. “Louis!” He exclaimed, hugging me. Realizing what he had done he pulled back and looked around nervously. “Oh, uhm, sorry. What are you doing?”

“I’m coming out Marce,” I stated.

“Oh,” Marcel’s eyes widened. “How, uh, how are you going to do it?”

I smirked and nudged his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it. Just do me favour.”

Marcel nodded. “Yes love, anything.”

“Don’t walk next to me or anything into school alright? Just wait at your locker, I’ll come in behind you. Wait for me.”

Confused, Marcel nodded and walked off up the steps and through the school door. I walked back to lock my car and followed his suit after about a minute. As I walked through the school doors, a few eyes landed on me but I paid no mind. I heard a girl whisper to her friends, “didn’t he go out to dinner with Marcel?” And another go: “No way Louis’ not gay.”

            Treading quickly towards Marcel who was waiting at his locker. He turned slightly and saw me, confusion still apparent on his face. “Oh Louis—” He began but I cut him off. Standing over him, I slammed him into the lockers and crashed my lips onto his. He froze at first but realized what I was doing and relaxed into the kiss. Swiping my tongue over his lower lip, he opened his mouth for entrance and I grabbed onto his hair, tugging and pulling as he groaned, hands on my waist. Slipping down, I attached my lips onto his neck, sucking and biting, until Marcel began to push a little to remind me we were still at school. Breathing heavily, I pulled back and wrapped my arm around his waist, holding him protectively. There were stairs and gasps and ‘what the fuck’s but I ignored them. “That’s one way to do it,” Marcel mumbled. Kissing above his ear, I whispered, “let’s go love” and pulled him away.

            The next few days weren’t eventful at the least until the end of the next week. The excitement over my outburst had blown over in a matter of a few days. The beginning of November turned to the end, and Winter holiday was approaching. I had no plans and neither did Marcel, so we had hoped on spending as much time with each other as possible.

            The next Friday, a week before Holidays, I got a call from Anne, Marcel’s mum. It was one in the morning and I was just about to fall asleep. My eyes felt heavy and my mind began to go dark. There was a faint buzzing noise, and I was too far in to think anything of it, till it kept going and going and my eyes snapped open in frustration. Seeing the caller ID as Anne, I picked it up curiously.

“Hello?” I answered groggily.

“Louis,” Anne sighed in relief. Her voice was thick with emotion. “Oh god, Louis, oh god,”

I woke up a little more and sat up. “Anne? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Marcel,” she broke down, “It’s happened, I thought he had more time, I thought…”
“What?” I asked, frozen.

“He told you didn’t he?”
“Told me what?”

She cried right into the receiver and cursed. “Marcel’s in the hospital, he- he’s had some lung problems and—” She broke off but I couldn’t help but rush her.

“What? Anne what?”

“Marcel has Lung Cancer, Louis.”