Marney in the Middle

Chapter 23: Three Words

A/N: Chapter accompanied by a song (above).
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Reese's POV

Marney reeks of a sweet scent that makes my nose tingle. Not an unpleasant smell by any means; just strong. Helping her into the house and trying not to sneeze is literally all I can manage. Francis and Malcolm carry on a conversation without offering to help. Whatever; not sure I want anyone else touching her anyway. The memories of her making out with that meth dealer will be seared into my mind for days or even weeks to come as is.

I lower Marney into a diningroom chair when we get inside. She's shivering like she might be cold. I look around, see nothing to bring her, and scrap the gesture. Hell if she deserves a blanket from me.

"So, who is this?" Francis is eyeing her with half-interest as he rubs warmth into his now ungloved hands.

Malcolm points at me: "His girlfriend."

I open my mouth to object when someone beats me to it.

"Noperoni." Marney shakes her head. "Nope, nope, nope." It's an exaggerated movement that shakes her long, dark chocolate hair around her round face. I try to remember if her hair is soft or coarse. She holds up a finger and wags it at Francis, though her eyes seem to be looking off to his left a little.

"We"—she gestures to me—"me and him are not girlfriends. Er, wait." She giggles in a way that forces her eyes shut and shakes her slender shoulders. I bite back a smirk to keep my face stern. "I mean we don't—aren't dates. He hasn't even asked me out."

Both of them look at me as if to confirm what she's said. Francis' expression is a mixture of tired and bored; Malcolm's is something else. Like when we got into our revenge war a few weeks back. Like he's angry or something. His eyes are squinted under his knitted brow, and his jaw is set. Not sure why he'd be angry about what Marney said – but, then again, why is he always under the impression that everything is about him?

I glare at him and ask, "What?"

"Don't what me." Marney looks up at me, oblivious that I hadn't been talking to her. "It's the true." From this angle, I can almost see down her dress. "You kiss on me but, for some reasons, I'm not good enough to be your girlfriend. You didn't—don't even notice when I'm gone."

I'm unsure what to say. A little of my irritation fades. Is that what this is about? That I didn't ask her out? I scratch the back of my neck. I'm not exactly sure when and how to ask girls out – lack of practice has stunted that particular ability. But I like her, I do. She's interesting, unique, smart, occasionally funny and always pretty.

And I don't want her with other guys.

Is that when people know? I rock back onto my heels for a second and frown with confusion.

Francis sighs. "Just take her to Mom and Dad's room. Let her sleep it off."

Malcolm steps forward almost instantly and reaches his hand out to Marney, who drags her emerald gaze up to him. I smack his hand away before she can accept it.

"Back off. I got it."

He puts up his hands. "Fine, whatever."

Slipping her arm back over my shoulders, I help her up from the chair and hook my arm around her waist. She feels like she weighs nothing. After a few jittery steps of me leaning down as to not force her onto her tip-toes and her knees acting like jello, I pick her up. It's like they do in the soap operas. Her draped across my arms with her head on my shoulder.