Dangerous: A Marcel Styles Fan Fiction

40: Finally a Happy Ending

40: Finally a Happy Ending

   He was a boy. She was a girl. Can I make it any more obvious? He was a nerd. She’d be one someday. What more can I say? He wanted her. She realized she’d tell. Now, honestly, she wanted him as well. They were in love.

   These were the lyric changes to an Avril Lavigne song I’d made over the weekend. It pretty much summed up the beginning of our relationship, even though it didn’t specify the hard times I’d been forced to face to realize what love truly was.

   Love was a feeling stronger than any other. It didn’t amount to the feeling of fame, or joy, or even sorrow. It was something indescribable. It was…love. Most importantly, it was being who you were without judging each other. It was loving who a person was when they were entirely themselves. And, now, for the first time, I’d see Marcel as the real Marcel. I wouldn’t see the complete nerd, or the complete bad boy. I would simply see the boy I loved. However, that didn’t stop me from feeling flustered as Georgia Rose and I waited for him Monday morning.

   “Relax, V,” Georgia Rose said as she watched me pace along the length of the front steps of the school, uncontrollably. It was painful not knowing what to expect. What was the definition of partial-nerd, partial-bad-boy anyway?!

   “I can’t.” I admitted.

   “Well, this is on you,” she stated, “You were kind of vague. I mean, what if he’s mostly nerd?”

   “I don’t care.”

   “What if he’s mostly…insane?”

   “I don’t care,” I confessed, before collapsing beside her on the railing, shoving my face into my hands. “I just want…him.”

   We both couldn’t object to that. The only problem here was who was the real Marcel? Who was the boy I’d be giving myself to for the rest of forever?

   We sat in silence for the remainder of the time between my statement and the moment we heard a sound so familiar: the loud growl of the engine of a motorcycle. Knowing well what this was, I shut my eyes, and let Georgia Rose look for me. I couldn’t look at the new Marcel, not yet. Not before I was ready.

   The next sound I heard was the killing of the engine. A few eternal seconds later, I heard something more confirming. It was Georgia Rose’s voice beside me:

   “Well, I guess that’s decent.”

   It was as if I could predict the future. It was something totally unexpected, but something which reminded me Marcel and I really were meant to be, and that we really were in sync. He’d kept his bike – which really wasn’t something I could object to – as a part of the cross between bad boy and nerd. As for his appearance, however, it was perfect.

   He wore tight, ripped jeans, and a white t-shirt. He kept his hair in lose curls, and wore the taped glasses I’d seen him in before. All he was missing were the marvelous wings from my dream.

   I almost felt the need to run back into his arms as the girl he loved, but I found myself paralyzed with a racing heart, just standing there with a smile larger than Georgia Rose’s ego as he approached. He wrapped me in a quick, warm hug, and then, took me by surprise as he spoke…in the nasally, stuttered voice he’d used when I’d met him.

   “W-well?”

   I bit back my laughter, and elbowed Georgia Rose when she let one giggle escape her throat. I met Marcel’s perfect green eyes through our glasses. “You look great,” I spoke, “but, can I make two little adjustments?”

   “S-sure.”

   “Please, stop using the fake accent,” I begged.

   I watched his cheeks grow red at my words and he instinctively switched voices before he spoke, “Sure.”

   I left him in silence, waiting for me to voice my next little alteration. Even Georgia Rose’s hazel eyes were wide, and he brows raised.

   “Um,” Marcel asked after a half a minute of silence, “What’s the second one?”

   I took two slow steps to him so that I was standing right at his left side. I took his warm hand and slipped his arm over my shoulder as I spoke, “You need a pretty girl under your arm.”

   He looked down, letting his dimpled smile grow wider at my mischief, before returning to kiss my cheek. The three of us started into the school, Marcel keeping his arm around me as we walked back to math class (which, by the way, I was still hopelessly failing).

   This was a new world. This was a world where love triumphed over popularity – over everything! If love was present, so would be a way to work through every problem. No matter how long one had to wait, they’d always get their fairy tale ending eventually.

   We were all ourselves now in this world without popularity. Georgia Rose kept her chastity, Diana Matson’s scars were fading and her smile grew brighter, I was admittedly a loser, and I had the Marcel I loved: the boy who was so sweet and so kind, and, if someone messed with us, I’m sure wouldn’t mind kicking maybe just one more person’s ass.

The End