Mocked: A Marcel Fanfic

Chapter Fifty-Four

**Okay, just saying, I was listening to Pandora like I always do as I write and "Don't Trust Me" by 3Oh!3 comes on and I'm staring at the lyrics like...holy. This is kind of like Mocked. It even talks about Xs. And...ho's, but let's not get into that lmao.

Anyways, love you all and yes I do read all your comments <3 some of your predictions are interesting**



Chapter Fifty-Four



I wake up on the roof, my body stiff from laying on the hard rooftop all night. The sun hasn't come up yet and when I move, I realize that I'm freezing. I hug my arms across my body and sit up, glancing around me.

Empty.

Where did Veronica go? Did she wake up and leave me? I feel a sudden rush of panic at the thought of her leaving me. Maybe last night was a fluke and she woke up realizing that she had better places to be. Better people to be with.

Just when I think I'm about to go into some hyperactive shock, there's a scuffle noise behind me and I turn around. Veronica is seated on my windowsill, her feet scraping the rooftop as she slowly swings them.

"Morning," she says as I walk over to her. "You talk in your sleep. Did you know that?"

I feel my cheeks heat. "I-I do?" Damn, I stuttered.

"Yup. Quite a bit actually."

"What did you hear?"

Veronica shrugs innocently. "Nothing I didn't already know."

I nod and check my watch. We've got twenty minutes before school starts. Veronica lets me climb through my window and I quickly start getting ready for school. Since I don't have time to shower, I just scrub my face really quick and brush my teeth. I normally hate this, but I've got no choice.

As I dress, Veronica sits on my windowsill and just stares outward. I don't know what she thinks about, but I don't try to interrupt her thoughts. Although I would like nothing more than to know every little thing happening in that mind of hers, I have enough respect and patience to just let her have this time to herself. Besides, I'm not really accustomed to the whole having her watch me dress so her eyes off of me makes me feel much more comfortable.

When I'm ready, I tap her lightly on the shoulder and nod my head towards leaving. She just gives me a small smile and walks past me, not a single word spoken between us.

Veronica and I leave my house after I grab a banana, silence following us throughout everything. I find myself worrying about what I actually said in my sleep. Did I say something terrible?

In the car, Veronica texts rapidly on her phone, a scowl on her face. I glance over and see Aiden's name printed boldly across the top, but I can't read the text messages. Veronica texting him makes me feel worried. Bad things always happen after they talk.

"Did I say something in my sleep? You know, something...bad?" I ask, no longer able to stand the silence.

Veronica glances up from her phone. "No, why?" Her tone is distant.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "You're ignoring me," I mutter. I turn into the school's parking lot and park the car. We still have a good ten minutes before we have to be in class.

"I'm not ignoring you. You just haven't spoken," Veronica answers blandly.

"You've been texting all morning."

"So?!" Veronica unclips her seatbelt and turns towards me. "What's your point?! I can't text anymore?!"

"No. No, that's not what I meant. It's just - I just...I don't know. You're different!" I exclaim frustratedly. There's just something about Veronica that always makes me tongue tied.

"Different how? I'm exactly the same as I was yesterday and the day before that. I'm still Veronica. I'm still fucked up. I'm still unloveable. And I'm still completely wrong for you."

My chest heaves with a heavy breath as I gape at Veronica. She's breathing hard as well, her chest rising and falling rapidly. It's like that confession took everything out of her. I know it took everything out of me.

"How could you think you're unloveable?" I ask and reach over to take her hand but she moves it.

"Because it's the truth. You don't love me. You love the concept of me," she says, dropping her gaze to her fingers.

"Concept? Veronica, I'm pretty sure I can see and touch you right now. You're not just a concept. You're real and I do love you," I say and take her hand. I refuse to let it go when she tries to pull away again.

"You don't know what love is," Veronica whispers and I freeze. It's like she read my past thoughts. She takes her hand away, my shock distracting me.

"You said that in your sleep last night," Veronica tells me, her voice low. "And it got me thinking. You don't know what love is. You've never been in love. You've never dated anyone. You've never had someone else by your side. How can you know what love is?"

"I know what-"

"-Love is not a fairytale, Harry."

"I know that. I never said it was, but-"

"-Then stop waiting for your happy ending," Veronica interrupts me, her words falling between us harshly. I take in a sharp breath at her tone. What could she mean?

I don't get to ask as a bell rings out, signaling less than five minutes to get to class. We both sigh at the same time, although mine feels more like a dying groan, and then get out of my car. Veronica walks with me through the parking lot, but stops before we get to the doors. She grabs my hand and tugs me towards her.

"What are you doing?" I ask confused. Her mood swings drive me insane.

Veronica stares up at me, her brown eyes searching mine. "Harry, you're going to hate me later," she whispers.

I can't help but chuckle. "No I won't. What could you possibly mean?"

Veronica bites her bottom lip and then glances at our feet. When she looks up again, she says, "Just remember that nothing at this school is real."

I rock on my feels awkwardly and nod. "Ohhhkaay," I stretch out the word. Why is she acting so weird?

Veronica tugs me down suddenly and kisses me, her fingers wrapped so tightly in my curls. It only lasts a couple seconds and then she lets go and walks away.

If nothing at school is real, then neither is that kiss. A stern voice in my head says but I shake it away, walking after Veronica into our school.

Let the day begin. Why does it feel like I'm walking into some type of battle ground?

I get to literature and give Professor James a wave. His eyes widen at me as I sit in my seat in the front row and take my paper and pens out. The last bell rings and he leans against his desk, his arms crossed in a relaxed position over his chest.

I glance at the seat beside me and notice it's empty. Great, where could she be now?

"Alright, good morning class. I'm sure we're all looking forward to the weekend, but lets make sure we pay attention in class today. Got it?"

"Yeah sure, pops," Bryce's familiar voice rings out in the back and I look over my shoulder at him. He'a reclined in his seat, a task that must be difficult for him since he is a pretty big guy. He catches my gaze and gives me a slow predatory grin.

Shivers run down my spine and I turn back around. What is wrong with him?

"Today we are discussing the reality of fiction. Think of any book you've read, it doesn't have to be one from the approved list or even one from class. Just any fiction book you have read."

"Like Cinderella?" A girl asks and everyone snickers. I roll my eyes and just stare forward.

"Sure, Cinderella. If you've read that one then think about it. I just want you to think about any and all fiction stories you've read. They don't even have to be in book form, they can be written online." Professor James walks towards the center of the front of the classroom and grabs a whiteboard marker. "Okay, now give me random titles."

The class starts yelling out answers and Professor James writes rapidly. The board fills with examples such as:

The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Matched
House of Night
Looking For Alaska
Thirteen Reasons Why
A Child Called It
Hoot
The Great Gatsby

The list went on and on, random names being messily scrawled across the whiteboards. I add in a couple and after a good couple minutes, Professor James stops writing and tells us to quiet down.

The class is now hyped up, awake with an energy from yelling things out. I'm sure majority of these stories haven't even been read by the class, but there must be a reason for all these titles. There's always a reason to things.

"Okay, now that we have enough examples, can-"

Professor James is cut off by the door being opened quickly. My eyes widen at Veronica, a security guard's hand wrapped around her upper arm.

"Thank you for escorting me to class. You can let go now," Veronica says rudely, her brown eyes narrowed, but there's a striking smile on her face.

"Caught this one smoking in an empty room with her boyfriend. Principal told me to just take her back too class. Apparently she's a regular," the security guard mutters and shoves Veronica into the classroom.

My gaze narrows in on the red finger marks on her arm. How dare he leave prints on her. How dare he even touch Veronica in a way so harsh.

Anger simmers into me and suddenly my hands are shaking. Professor James dismisses the guard and when the door closes I have the urge to run to it and open it again. I want to make that man pay for hurting Veronica.

My desk jerks and I snap my head in the direction. Veronica glares at me pointedly, mouthing to calm down, and then sits in her seat. I put my hands in my lap and try to stop them from shaking.

I really do have a temper. Why am I suddenly getting such violent thoughts?

It's because you've been repressed your entire life, held down and made fun of by everyone. Now that you've gotten a taste of that feeling of fight and not flight, you want it more. You know you do.

The voice in my head is not wrong, but I push it away. No, that is not me. I am not angry or violent. No.

Professor James claps his hands for everyone's attention and I focus back on him, training my brain to let go of my past thoughts.

"Okay, as I was saying, can anyone in this room tell me the similarity between these fiction books?" Professor James asks and looks over the room. "Yes, Sarah?"

"They're books?"

Wow. Stupidest answer ever.

"They are indeed books, Sarah, but that's not what I'm trying to get at. Anyone else?"

"They're all fiction," a guy states.

"Obviously they're all fiction, idiot. He asked for fiction titles."

"Oh because it's not obvious that they're all books!" He snaps back at Sarah and I glance back to see her sink lower into her seat. The class laughs at their little argument.

"Settle down. They're both right, they just haven't gotten the exact answer I'm looking for." A hand raises and I look at Veronica, her hand in the air confidently. "Yes, Veronica."

She leans forward in her seat, crossing her hands on her empty desk. "Well, they're all fiction-"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!"

Veronica swiftly gets out of her chair suddenly and spins towards the class, her eyes narrowing. I smirk at the sudden flow of gasps and silence in the room. Yeah, she has that affect.

"They are all fiction. Meaning that every single one of these stories," Veronica takes the marker and Professor James moves aside, "is fake, made up, imaginary."

"Elaborate," Professor James says.

Veronica uncaps the pen and circles titles. "These have the fairytale, wishy-washy endings. The type that most people want. The guy gets the girl, they live happily ever after, and so forth and so on.

"These," she underlines the rest of them, "are the ones that have that unhappy ending. The one where you're left wondering why the author did that. Why they ended the story how they did. Why didn't they get to be together? Why didn't Romeo and Juliet survive? Why did the boy who cried wolf become eaten? Why can't Humpty get out back together?" Veronica asks the class, passion in her voice that I find shocking. I never really paid attention to what she knows.

"Fiction is merely someone else's imaginary world coming to life for other people to enjoy as well. Nothing is real. Nothing actually has an affect on you. And most importantly, none of the relationships actually work out." Veronica nods and then sits back in her seat, the entire room completely silent.

"Not real? How can you say they aren't real? Cinderella and her prince get married. Edward and Bella have a baby and become vampires forever. Christian and Anastasia have a family and love each other! How can you say the relationships aren't real?!" A girl exclaims. She's also in the front row so I look past a couple people to see her. I don't recognize her at all. I should really learn people's names.

Veronica starts laughing and I focus my attention back on her. Her head is tipped back, her brown hair flowing down behind her. When she stops laughing she looks at the girl with an amused look.

"You're kidding me right? Prince Charming had how many girls and yet he chose Cinderella after a couple hours and an amazing descent of stairs? Edward lived how long before picking a human who he found fascinating and basically scared her enough to make her want him? And Christian and Ana, really? Fifty Shades of Grey?!" Veronica laughs again. "Christian had how many girls that looked exactly like Ana, that was practically exactly like her?!"

"So? They all lived happily ever after."

"In a fantasy world that doesn't exist!" Veronica adds bitterly. "That's not how life works, sweetheart. Love like that isn't real. Fiction is fake."

The girl shuts up and I feel a bit of pity for her.

"I agree with her." The words leave my mouth before I can register them.

Veronica's brown eyes widen at me, her eyebrows arching. "Oh?"

I swallow. "Yeah, I think that even though it is fiction and it isn't real, that they can be together happily. Everyone deserves their happy ending."

Veronica doesn't even look away as she states directly to me, "And that's why you're a fool."

Gatsby. She's talking about Gatsby, I know she is.

I look at the board and realize it's the only one that has been left alone.

But why?