My Toxin

Chapter 9

The drive back to university was steeped in an uneasy silence, broken only by the low hum of the car engine and the faint sound of tyres on the tarmac. The city lights flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across Marjorie's face as she stared out of the window, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on her lap.

"I can't believe my parents sometimes," she muttered, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet, but the bitterness in it was unmistakable. "All they care about are my grades. Nothing else about me seems to matter."

I glanced at her, noting the frustration etched into her features. "They just want what's best for you, Marjorie," I offered, though the words felt hollow.

She scoffed, her gaze still fixed on the passing scenery. "No, Alex. They want what's best for themselves. Mum had the nerve to criticise my dress tonight, calling it immodest. I can't do anything right in her eyes."

I sighed, focusing on the road ahead. "Your dress was perfect. You looked beautiful, Princess."

"Tell that to her," she retorted, her tone sharpening. Then, after a pause, she added, "And what was with Eleanor? She kept glaring at me all night. Do you think she might be racist?"

My grip on the steering wheel tightened, my knuckles whitening. "Eleanor isn't racist, Marjorie. She's just... not over me yet."

Marjorie turned to face me sharply, her eyes flashing with anger. "Not over you? She looked at me like I was an intruder. Are you sure it's just about you?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Eleanor has her issues, but she's not racist. Maybe she was just jealous seeing us together."

"Jealous?" Marjorie's scoff turned into a bitter laugh. "So now you're defending her? Of course, you wouldn't see it, Alex. You'll never understand these things."

Her words stung, but I fought to keep my composure. "That's not fair, Marjorie. I can recognise racism when I see it. I just don't think that's what's happening here."

She crossed her arms tightly, staring straight ahead. "You always defend people like her. You never see what I see."

The car fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the argument pressing down on both of us. I hated how it felt, this chasm widening between us, and I hated even more how helpless I felt to fix it.

After a few minutes, I tried again, my tone softer. "I'm sorry if Eleanor made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention."

Marjorie sighed, her shoulders slumping as some of her anger seemed to dissipate. "It's not just Eleanor, Alex. It's everything. Kemi was right about interracial relationships."

I reached over, taking her hand gently in mine. "You don't mean that, Princess. You're just upset."

She looked at me, her eyes brimming with regret. "I know. I didn't mean it."

The tension eased slightly, but it wasn't gone. The silence that followed was fragile, like a truce neither of us was sure would hold.

A few minutes later, Marjorie's frustration bubbled up again, her voice sharp and cutting. "You know what's really unfair? The way my parents treat my brothers. Tyreece and Tyrell don't have to work half as hard as I do, and they're still the golden children. I can't catch a break."

"I've noticed," I said quietly.

"It's like I'm expected to carry the family's reputation on my back," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "They don't see how exhausting it is. They just pile on more expectations."

"I'm sorry, Marjorie. You don't deserve that."

She nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Thanks, Alex."

For a moment, I thought we were finally settling into peace, but her anger flared anew. "And then there's Eleanor. I saw the messages, Alex. She was sexting you. How am I supposed to feel about that?"

My heart sank. "Marjorie, I didn't ask for those pictures. I never encouraged her. I blocked her as soon as I realised what she was doing."

"But you didn't tell me," she said, her voice tight with hurt. "How do I know you weren't encouraging her?"

"Because I wasn't," I insisted. "You have all my passwords, and I've never hidden my phone from you. She's just... persistent."

"Persistent?" Marjorie repeated, her voice rising. "So, because she's persistent, it's okay for her to disrespect our relationship?"

"No, it's not okay," I snapped, my frustration finally bubbling to the surface. "But you can't just assume she's racist because of this. It's not fair."

Marjorie's eyes blazed with anger. "Fair to her? What about being fair to me, Alex? Do you know how exhausting it is to constantly defend myself against people like her?"

"I do," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't think attacking her character is the answer."

She shook her head, turning away from me. "You'll never understand, Alex. You'll never understand what it's like to be me."

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped myself, realising anything I said would only make things worse. The rest of the drive passed in silence, the tension between us a tangible weight.

When we finally pulled up to our apartment building, I turned to her, hoping for one last chance to fix things.

"Marjorie," I said softly.

She ignored me, gathering her belongings with a determined focus.

"Marjorie, please—"

She tried to open the door, but I quickly engaged the child lock. Her head snapped around, and the look she gave me was venomous.

"Open the bloody door, Alex," she spat.

"Not until we talk," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

Her glare intensified, her anger radiating off her in waves. "Let me out of this car, Alex. Now!"

I sighed, reaching over to take her hands in mine, pinning them gently as she tried to shove me. "Marjorie, please. I love you. Screw Eleanor, screw your parents, and anyone else who's upset you. I'm on your side."

I unlocked the door and released her hands. She shoved me one last time before grabbing her bag and storming out, slamming the door behind her.

As I watched her walk away, a deep sense of defeat settled over me. I had hoped we could end the night on a better note. Instead, I was left alone in the car, the echoes of our argument still ringing in my ears.