Marley
The piercing sound of an alarm rings in my ears, dragging me out of the deep sleep I was in. Groaning, I twist over to my side and lift up my new phone—since Callum broke my other one last week—clicking stop on the alarm.
As soon as my eyes open that feeling of dread and misery comes back. The same one that haunts me so intensely it makes it hard to think, to move, to live.
With a deep sigh I manage to get myself out of bed. I tug off the light pink cheetah print pajama bottoms, and replace them with a pair of black athletic shorts. I toss the sweatshirt I was wearing off to the side and throw on a sports bra, and an athletic tank top. When I slip my socks over my feet, I hear my dad downstairs in the kitchen.
He wakes up this early for work, I wake up this early to run.
Because if I don't run, I'll probably go insane.
My mom was a big track person when she was in school, so I guess it kind of rubbed off on me. I started running for fun my sixth grade year, and by the time I was twelve, I was on a track team. Ever since then, running is the only thing that has kept my mind somewhat balanced. It keeps me from doing something stupid.
Like jumping off of a very tall bridge.
When I finish getting ready to go run, I walk downstairs where dad is standing at the counter. He's making lunches for all of us.
"Hey Mar," he glances up at me, spreading mayonnaise on a slice of white bread.
"Hey," I say back, sitting myself in a stool at the bar.
"You about to go on a run?" He asks as he closes the mayonnaise jar.
I nod, hiding my arms under the counter top. Dad knows about everything, that's why I'm in therapy, but he doesn't know.
He doesn't understand that I do it often, not just once every now and then. I don't think he knows how bad the thoughts are getting, because I know my dad, and if he knew what went on in my head, he wouldn't ever let me out of his sight.
"Well, be safe." Dad points at me with the butter knife in his hand. "And make sure your location is on."
With a small chuckle I hop down from my stool "don't worry dad, I'll be fine."
He smiles "I know, I know." I watch as he pulls a plastic sandwich bag out of the cardboard box and starts to place the sandwich in there. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't," I say as I walk to the door, picking up my tennis shoes.
"Alright. I love you," he calls out.
"I love you too," I say as I shut the door.
The silence of outside at this time of morning fills my ears, and instantly I feel myself start to crawl into the jail cell of my own mind.
Sniffling from the breeze against my nose, I tie my laces up and stretch my legs out before walking to the road. I pick up a jog, no music, no podcasts, no nothing. Just the silence, and the sound of my breathing.
<>
The sound of laughter fills my ears as I sit down at the lunch table. When Keely and Finley come in sight, I know why.
They're back on.
Apparently they have this off and on relationship, and it's been like that since they were like thirteen. According to Niall, they're actually a really good couple, and they help each other out in some serious aspects of life—like Finleys sleep insomnia. They let small arguments break them up though, and so it's just one big tiring cycle.
"Hey pretty," Keely squeezes my shoulder as she walks past, and sits down across from me, a smile plastered on her face.
"Hey," I say back, not being able to fake the smile today.
My mind is too busy today for me to even think. I'm tired, and I'm cold, and I'm sick. Sick of being here.
Sick of living this life, a life that has only brought me misery and pain. I can't even luck out in the relationship department, because it's obvious that my boyfriend is growing distant, and I'm trying to cling onto whatever tearing string holding us together.
Keely frowns at me and she goes to say something, but she's quickly interrupted by Niall.
"I'm telling you T," he says confidently as he and Tierny pile into the lunch table. "Finley and I are starting that band, and we need a singer."
"The band will never work out," she argues back. "And I'm way too busy for that."
"Busy with what?" His face morphs as he looks over at her.
"School," she shrugs. "Singing."
"You aren't even signed with anyone T," he drawls out "and even if the band doesn't work out, you can at least get a head start with us."
She lets out a deep sigh and everyone watches as we wait for her answer. She glares at him, still not saying anything. "Fine. I'll think about it."
He smiles "Thank you."
Another backpack gets set down next to me. It's the only open seat left at the table. I already know who it is, because I sense the fucking misery off of him.
"Lynchy," Niall smirks.
"Hey Niall," Callum says as he sinks down next to me.
He does smell pretty good.
What the fuck? No he doesn't. He stinks. Just like his attitude.
Finley scoots over on the bench, but not so Callum has room. No, he pushes Callum into me, so we're so smashed together that our legs are pressing against one another, and our arms brush with every movement.
"Serious question," Keely speaks up, gaining everyone's attention. "Why is the team already training for hurling season?"
"It's not training, it's more of a stay in shape over the off season thing." Finley answers.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I tune out everything around me as I pick it up.
Mason
wtf marley
Marley
What?
Mason
You made Emily cry
My heart sinks to my ass. Not because she's crying, but because my boyfriend is texting me over my best friend crying.
God I am so stupid. Quit being paranoid. They aren't together.
Emily wouldn't do that to me.
Mason wouldn't do that to me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Marley
What? How did I make her cry?
Mason
You haven't talked to her in days
Marley
Are you serious Mason?
I've texted her, I've called her, I've left fucking voicemails.
Mason
Clearly not.
Marley
Are you kidding?
You're taking her side over your girlfriend's side?
Mason
The proof is in her tears, babe.
I gtg
Luv u
Swallowing harshly, I just stare down at my phone.
I can't do this anymore.
Without texting anything back, I just shut it off and place it back on the table. When I look over, my eyes meet a pair of blue ones staring back at me.
Callum watched that entire conversation.
YOU ARE READING
Finding 4
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