Marney in the Middle

Chapter 28: A Good Start

Feeling pretty triumphant, I settle into my seat and nearly forget about my mortification over Saturday – until Malcolm waltzes into the empty classroom.

He stops as our eyes meet. Heat slinks up my cheeks as my heartbeat speeds up. Oh gods, I am not ready for this. A whole day of avoiding even a mention of him and his brother after retelling that dreadful experience had been good, but I forgot about one thing: Mental preparation.

I had zero idea how to deal with seeing either of them. Do I pretend nothing happened and go about makeover as usual? Or... wracking my brain, trying to figure out if Toria's many guidelines and tips cover anything like this (they don't), Malcolm slowly regains movement.

As he crosses to his usual seat in the front row, his gaze drops to the floor. Clearly he doesn't know what to say or do either.

I think, in this situation, Toria would tell me to be the bigger person. Nothing and no one should get in my way or keep me down. That's actually a big part of Makeover Marney 2.0 – time to go from unnoticed to unforgettable. I have to be fierce – her word, not mine – and channel my inner bitch (whatever that means).

Gulping, I straighten up in my seat. "Hey." My voice is quieter than I intend, but he hears me. Swiveling, he looks me up and down.

After a second, he nods once, "Hey."

"How are you," I ask for a lack of better ideas.

"Alright." He shrugs, "My parents didn't find out about the party."

"Oh, good." I nod and put on a small smile. He nods, too. "That's . . . really good."

"Yep."

Then we're just kind of nodding and staring. My lips shape into a grimace. This is awful.

"Can we, um," I glance down at the desktop and study the sloppy writing of one of my peers. They've scribbled 'just kill me now' in blue permanent marker. Well, that's appropriate – thanks secret graffiti person.

Malcolm stands up and perches on the edge of the seat beside mine. "What's up?"

"I just wanna not think about what happened," I mumble at the scribbles. "Can we pretend like it didn't?"

I catch sight of him nodding and pursing his lips together in my peripherals. After a moment, he places his hand on top of my shoulder. My heart does a flip that I have to force myself not to acknowledge.

"Only if you promise me one thing."

I nibble my bottom lip and angle my head so I can peek at him through my hair. Reaching out his other hand, he sweeps it out of my eyes so he can tuck it behind my ear. Another flip. His hand settles onto my shoulder again as we look at each other. For a second, I feel it. That pull. That thing that says we're going to kiss, that we should and it's just the way it is. My gaze flickers to his lips.

Keep it together, Marney.

I gulp and blink, forcing myself to look elsewhere. A pseudo-motivational poster behind him catches my eye. It has a cat stalking up to a bald eagle; under it reads:

Overconfidence

This is going to end in disaster, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

What the hell? It's like this whole freaking room knows how excruciating this situation is and just wants to rub it in. Squinting, I force myself to go back to studying my desktop.

"What's that," I ask finally.

"Just promise me you won't go around kissing anymore random dudes," he says.

I think it's supposed to be funny. Like one of those things that people say to deflate tension. But it's really not. Heat explodes in my cheeks and I have to keep myself from audibly groaning. Seriously, just assassinate me now. Head shot and get it over with.

"Har, har, har," I mumble.

He chuckles. At least someone's getting a kick out of this. "Really though, consider it forgotten."

I smile despite myself, "Thanks, Malcolm."

He shrugs and looks about to say something when the classroom door opens. It's Frizz-head. But of course! What awkward situation would be complete without my for-some-strange-reason rival?

"Well, good morning, you two."

Malcolm nods at her, his big eyebrows bunched ever so slightly. Straightening the collar of his blue and white plaid shirt, he shoots me a quick smile before going back to his usual spot.

I glare at the backs of their heads while they talk. Really, while she talks. At him. Ugh. I have to conceal my expression when people begin trickling into the classroom by leaning forward to pretend to text. Even if she didn't spread that rumor, I still don't like her. She never apologized for that stupid prank. And, personally, I think she should.

She's just a really big—

"Marney."

My head snaps up. Almost everyone is present now, including the oh-so charming Mr. Herkabe. Licking my lips to hide a grimace, I put my phone away. "Sorry," I mutter. Raising my voice to ensure he hears, "Won't happen again."

"I couldn't care less about your petty need for social recognition," he says while waving his hand dismissively. Holding up a pink slip of paper, he directs for me to approach where he stands beside his desk.

I glance around and see a few people have taken interest in our exchange. They have those expressions immature people sometimes get when someone gets called to the principal's office over the loudspeaker. Whatever; I roll my eyes. Let them stare – attention, positive or negative, is good (according to Toria). And it's one of the goals this makeover version.

When I stop a few feet in front of him, Mr. Herkabe thrusts the sheet of paper at me. "You're wanted in Mr. Luke's office."

I read the pink slip quickly but frown. "Why?"

"Do I look like his secretary?"

Someone behind me chuckles and I feel my face regaining its glare. "Certainly not," I say in a faux-shocked tone. He doesn't respond as he circles behind his desk and sits down. As I begin to turn, I mumble, "You're way too old to be a secretary."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

I turn around to smile at him as sweetly as possible. Frizz-head is giggling behind her hand along with a few other people. "I said hopefully whatever Mr. Luke needs won't take too long because I would hate to miss your class. It's just so interesting," I add with a few bats of my mascaraed eyelashes.

Mr. Herkabe squints at me. After a second, he points at the door, "Just get out."

I turn on my heel without saying anything. Several people closest to the teacher's desk are watching. I pause in the door long enough to shoot them a nice smile before disappearing into the hall outside.

Makeover Marney 2.0 is off to a good start. Now if only I could forget about the end of 1.0...