Finding Marcel

>6<

"Violette?!"

My best friend leapt off the couch, and her loose T-shirt slid down one of her shoulders, exposing the freckles that dotted her arm. "Bella!" She screeched, and ran over to me at the speed of light. We jumped into each other's arms, rocking back and forth on our feet as we hugged. My cheeks were already starting to hurt from smiling, but I didn't care.

"What're you doing here?" I asked, still grinning when we pulled apart. Her brown eyes were lined by black eyeliner, winged at the end. "And is that my chicken?"

She laughed, a sound I hadn't heard in-person for a long time. "I found it in the fridge, so I took it." She shrugged. "I have a few interviews to give, and they just-so-happened to be out here, so I thought I'd make it a visit, too! Did I surprise you?"

"Well yeah," I said in a duh tone of voice. "I walked into my apartment, and my best friend was sitting on my couch!"

Violette shrugged, a smug grin plastered onto her face. "Minor details, really. So where's your boyfriend, Hugo?"

"He's not here?"

Violette slowly shook her head. "I knocked, but nobody answered, so I just walked in. You should lock your door, you know, anyone could've waltzed right into your apartment."

"Yeah. . ." I said quietly, my mind occupied by thoughts of Zayn's whereabouts. Usually, he would've been home by that time, and it wasn't like him to be late without texting me to let me know. Punctuality was a must to him.

"Speaking of boyfriends, how's your fiance?" I searched through my bag for my phone, pushing past folders and notebooks.

Just the mention of Peter brought a bigger smile to her glossy lips. "Oh, he's great."

"That's all I get?" I finally touched the cool metal of the phone, and pulled it out. Without thinking, I entered in my passcode as Violette talked. It vibrated, signifying that the passcode was wrong. I took a look at the phone, and gasped as I saw a lock screen that wasn't mine. Instead, it showed a picture of Marcel and a woman with short, fluffy blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. Their shoulders were touching, the only physical contact between the two, but they both smiled so radiantly.

"This isn't my phone," I mumbled, more disappointed about the photo than anything else. I had no right to be, but I couldn't help what I was feeling in that moment.

"Well whose is it, then?" Violette snaked forward to get a look at the phone in my hands, but looked up at me for an answer.

"Marcel's. It's Marcel's."

Her eyes immediately lit up with excitement, and her mouth fell into an open grin. "Why do you have his phone? Does he have yours, then? A reunion is in order! Don't you see how great this is?! Bella, you'll finally be able to tell him everything you never could!"

Couldn't she see how terribly wrong she was? The phone suddenly felt so much heavier as I carried it across the apartment with me, Violette following and rambling the entire time. This is all payback, I thought, karma's finally back for me. I knew I had to act like an adult, but it was incredibly hard after seeing the photo on his screen.

". . . Maybe he'll see it from your perspective and you two can work it out! I mean, it was years ago, right? He can't hold a grudge for that long. I mean, you and I worked it out pretty quickly afterwards. Of course, I wasn't the victim, but forgiveness is a beautiful thing. I could talk to him for you, if you wanted."

"I can't do this right now. I'm exhausted, it's been a really long day, and I have no clue where Zayn is. I'm sure you're tired, too, so I'll just get you a pillow and blanket so we can both go to bed." I knew I wouldn't be sleeping until Zayn got back, but there was no way I could sleep anyways. My mind was racing, and I was holding Marcel's phone in my hand. He was probably holding mine, too.