The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy. //+//A Complicated Love Story//+//

Chapter 10: Mary.

I watched a stupid fly beat itself against the window again and again. It could see where it wanted to be and knew how to get there but every time it tried the same invisible thing bounced it right back where it started. One of three things was going on with this fly right now. One, it is too dense to figure out that it can’t get through that way, two, it refuses to give up, or three, it has discovered that there is no way around it’s obstacle and is beating itself against the window again and again in hopes that it will die soon. I, Mary Stone, can relate to this fly.

I walked to the large window and opened it for the flying insect. It flew out gratefully only to sit on the windowsill, a pure inch from where it had been before. It could see all the same things; do all the same things, only difference is that he was on the other side. Maybe this fly was just crazy. Once again, I can relate to this fly.

I got dressed into my clothes from the day before. My black boots, my white sundress, and my black hoodie. It was the nicest outfit I owned, don’t ask me why, but I had chosen yesterday to wear it.

I got my bag and picked up Branson’s large hoodie. It smelled just like him, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, but it smelled like fresh pine and…and…something else. Something wonderful. I held it close to my nose and breathed. A simple smile reached across my lips.

I took one last look at the almost empty room. His mother really didn’t like me. I took out a pen and piece of paper from my bag. I sat down at the empty desk and scribbled a quick thank you note down Mr. Stal.

Dear Trish,

I just wanted to thank you for letting a ‘little thief’ like me stay the night in your guest room. It was awful kind of you. Not to mention the ‘special arrangements’ you made for me in this big room. I feel so much more conferrable in a bare room. Can you imagine how out of place I would have been in a nice one? Once again, thanks so much.

Love, Mary.

 

I laughed to myself. I know I’m probably only making the situation worse for myself but no matter how hard I try to get that woman to like me she never does and that’s never going to change. I’m not going to spend my time kissing the ass of some old lady who’s never going to like me.

I put the letter on the desk, kissed it once, and walked out of the room. I peeked in Branson’s room where he was still sleeping. I went and sat on the edge of his bed and shook him lightly.

His brown hair was swept to one side and it looked like he had kicked the covers off during the night. His lips were parted slightly and his long eye lashes looked like drapes.

I shook him again and he didn’t even stir.

“Branson.” I whispered “Branson.”

He shifted slightly, one of his arms winded around my waist and pulled me down next to him. How can someone be so strong in their sleep?