The Messy Months [EDITING]

November - 2

When Bailey left for work, Marcy's mind started wandering. She could tell she was still a bit hazy from the night before, so she went back to her cozy couch haven, her woozy mind thought back to her "olden days". Had it always been like this? Had she ever felt heartbreak like this?

No... Because Marcy had met Donald.

They met the first day she began high school. It was the briefest of meetings, but Marcy secretly counted it as their first, mostly due to not being a meeting at all.

It was the first time she'd even been in a real school, so she was terrified but ready.

She was at lunch, a tray of food in her hand. She felt silly for standing in the middle of it all, waiting for some chick to attack her or call her over or for someone to break out in song. When none of that happened, she was relieved. But that wore away after she realized that she could sit anywhere, anywhere she wanted because there was only the slimmest of chances that she'd be asked to leave.

At least, she hoped.

She wove through the crowd, smacked her tray down on the nearest table and plopped into her seat. When she looked up, no one looked back. They were all focused on someone's iPod. Marcy could just barely hear the audio above the noisy cafeteria, and got so excited she spewed out her words with all the emotion she could muster.

"What do you care what I think anyway? I don't even count, right? I could disappear forever and it wouldn't make any difference."

Three pairs of eyes flitted her way and she blushed. "The Breakfast Club. It's a good one. Practically memorized it. But it's nothing compared to the original Star Wars."

One of the boys laughed. "Oh my God, where did you come from?"

The girl holding the iPod sneered. "Nothing beats the Breakfast Club."

"Hey, that's Don's seat," the second boy piped up. "I mean, you're welcome to sit there, but I'd hate to see you get beat up on the first day of school."

Boy number one punched boy number two in the stomach. "Shut it, Hammy." He looked to Marcy. "Don't mind him, he likes to lie. A lot."

The second boy shoved back. "I also like to lay a lot too."

"Hammy—"

"Boys," the girl squeaked, lowering her device into her lap. "Hush it."

They rolled their eyes, sliding back into their seats. The girl met Macy's gaze. "You new here?"

"Obviously she's new—"

"I said, shut it."

Marcy nodded. "Yep."

"Did you just move here?"

Marcy picked up her sandwich. "Nope." When she leaned to take a bite, the girl spoke again.

"I'm Joyce and these are my dung buddies, Hammy and Spammy."

Marcy raised an eyebrow, closing her sandwich wide mouth. "I'm Marcy."

Spammy leaned toward her, his clasped fingers sliding across the table. "You into films?"

"Depends." She smiled, hoping her face wasn't growing red again. "Is your real name Spammy?"

"Naw, but I can't give away my secrets just yet. You'll have to stick around for a little while, if you'd like to learn the story."

Out of the corner of her eye, Marcy saw Hammy make the gagging motion and Joyce roll her eyes.

"Don't get her hopes up, dude."

After school, Marcy saw Hammy in the parking lot and waved, instantly feeling lame. Hammy gestured back, along with Spammy. Joyce ignored her altogether, which made her relax. Sorta.

Her eyes followed them across the lot and through the busy mess of cars. She checked her phone again, knowing her dad wouldn't be there to pick her up for at least another five minutes. So she went back to people watching, searching the crowd for her lunch buddies.

She found Hammy leaning against an old mini van (like, really, really old). Marcy was afraid that even his thin build would be able to place a dent in the door or something. Then Marcy's eyes shifted to the driver and stayed there for a long time.

Marcy had had crushes before, mostly on movie stars and old film directors. She'd swooned over the photos of actors on the red carpet and had once been so obsessed with James Dean that he was literally her thought, clothing option and room decor for seven months straight.

But this. This was different.

Marcy felt her whole person changing, right then and there. She'd never thought of her as the sappy love at first sight type, but when she saw Donald, everything changed. It was like she could feel her heart opening up like a flower, the sunshine rays of hope and possibility making her bloom.

It hadn't been like that with Trym. He hadn't caused her whole body to change or do anything. It was just the fact that he'd been there to help her. That's why it hurt.

Right?

It was because he'd been there to sooth her panic attack, tease her about how much sugar she put in her coffee and provide her with amazing carry out dinners. It was because he was genuine and she thought what they had was genuine.

Right?