Teenage Dirtbag

Ch. 3

            Over the weekend my mother tried to question what happened with me and Marcel several times, but I wasn't even sure what happened so I blew off her questions and changed the subject. Aside from using the weekend to catch up on homework, I spent a lot of time texting with Marcel; often staying up into the early hours of the morning.

            You learn a lot about a person when you spend hours and several phone batteries talking to them. Marcel did know Teenage Dirtbag, which made me really happy, and I was right, he wasn't as nerdy as he looked, not that I didn't like the nerd look. We had a lot in common. Books, music, movies, sure I was terrible at math and it was as simple to him as breathing, but not everything can be identical.

            As I lay in my room Sunday night, I saw my phone light up again, as I picked it up I saw it was three in the morning. I smiled as I read Marcel's text then replied:

“I agree, but we'll have to pick this up in the morning, I'm going to look like a zombie tomorrow. Goodnight Marcel :)”

            Not a minute later the light flashed again:

“ you will not, but goodnight.”

 

            Smiling again I sat my phone down and rolled onto my side. He's been lucky enough not to see me on just a few hours sleep. He'll change his mind in the morning.

            Just as I'd suspected, morning came way too quickly, and the shrillness of my alarm was a rude awakening. I feebly attempted to go back to sleep, but at ten after seven my mother tapped on my door telling me to get a move on.

            Struggling to pull myself out of bed I stumbled over to the closet and pulled it open. I could never find a single thing I wanted to wear on mornings like these. Finally deciding on a dark green sweater than hung off my shoulders and simple black leggings; dressing quickly I didn’t even look in the mirror as I put my hair up.

            Coming down the stairs my mom handed me a packet of pop-tarts before rushing us out the door. "Hurry up and eat, Scarlett, we're running late."

            "I have to put my make-up on," I said, squinting in the visor mirror.

            "Have you talked to Marcel today," she asked, attempting to be casual.

            I finished my make-up quietly, and then settled back in my seat, trying to avoid the question.

            "Well," she prompted again.

            "No, Mom, I've only been up for ten minutes I've had no time to talk to anyone."

            "He's a nice boy." I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying."

            "Yes, he is nice, I'm aware," thankfully she had just stopped in front of the school and I was able to escape the car with out further questioning. I was just going up the stairs to the school when I saw Marcel standing outside the front doors. "This isn't our normal meeting spot," I said coming up behind him.

            Startled he turns around, blinking when he see's me "Scarlett, you look...very p-pretty," he said, blushing at his own comment.

 

            I raised my eyebrow, looking down at my ratty sweater, "are your glasses clean," I questioned.

            "Of course they are," he replied quietly, "your sweater...makes your eyes shine," he added even quieter.

            Now it was my turn to blush, and I couldn't help but smile, "well thank you."

            "We should get to class," he said, no longer whispering, a faint smile on his lips. I nodded in agreement and followed him inside, making quick stops at each of our lockers first.

            Our morning classes were boring, bookwork and notes. I found myself yawning constantly, yet Marcel was his normal chipper self. At lunch after filling our trays we found a table in the back of the cafeteria and sat down.

            "C-can I ask you something," Marcel questioned; his voice nervous.

            "You can ask me anything," I replied, taking a bite of my food.

            "Right," he fidgeted with his hands, looking at the table, his cheeks already going slightly red, "well I was w-wondering, if you really meant, that you'd like to spend more time with me...?"

            Suppressing a smile I nodded, "of course I meant it."

            He looked relieved, but his face was still a shade of red, "well then, m-maybe, we could, um, see a...movie sometime then," he asked, looking at the table.

            Again, it was time for me to blush as well. No one had ever asked me on a date before, ever. Glaring turns most people off apparently. But Marcel was different, there was no other way to describe him other than just, Marcel. And I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't enjoy talking to him all weekend.

            "I think I would like that very much."

            He quickly looked up in an almost shock as if he'd been expecting me to say no. "Really," he asked, as if he hadn't heard me correctly and I nodded. That's the first time I think I saw Marcel really smile. He had the most adorable dimples I had ever seen in my life and I couldn't help but smile back just as big. "We can go see something this weekend; my dad won't let me borrow the car during the week..."

            "Well maybe in the meantime, I could come over and we could watch a few movies, order a pizza or something."

            His eyes lit up, "sure! Maybe tomorrow, you could walk home with me."

            "Sounds like a plan to me," I said, smiling at him. The rest of lunch was just regular conversation, but throughout the rest of the day I could feel the excitement in my stomach. My first date. Two of them in one week, with Marcel.

            At the end of the day I hugged him before going to get into my moms car, and I could feel the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach. Promising to text him later, I got in the car as he started down the sidewalk. Feeling my mother’s eyes on me I looked over at her, "we have a date tomorrow, just to watch movies and stuff...so I won't need a ride until later."

            I could see she was trying to suppress a smile but she simply nodded, "that's fine, you can just call me when you're ready, as long as it's not too late."

            "Alright," I simply said, turning to look out the window as a small smile tugged the corner of my mouth.