Greyhound [Marcus Rashford]

16

Marcus takes me to a sweet, family-owned cafe a few blocks over from Jesse's flat. After we order our coffees, we take a table in the back corner to talk. Since it's well past peak coffee hour, we have the whole dining area to ourselves.

"So, you just couldn't wait to see me again, now could you?" Marcus says with a huge smirk across his face. I try to pretend that I'm angry, but I'm in too good of a mood to stop smiling myself.

"Or I came here to murder you for leaving without saying goodbye, to each's own," I fire back. "Don't think I'll just let that one slide."

"I guess I should explain my actions at some point," he sighs. "As I tried to explain in my note, I didn't think I would be able to leave Chicago if you were at the airport with me. It's the same way when I have to leave my family behind for international duty. When things are important to me and when I care about people, I can't just let them go easily. It's the worst part about my job. I always have a game of tennis in my head trying to decide whether I stay with the person I love, or go for the team..." Marcus continues speaking, but I stop listening. Is it just me, or did he drop the L bomb? It's not that I don't want him to, it's just been a really short period of time. Could he really feel that strongly for me? I can't deny that I have strong feeling for him, but I don't know if I've labeled it in my head as the L word yet. However, hearing him say it makes my heart soar. It's been so long since I've had someone genuinely tell me that they love and care for me. I just smile and stare off into space thinking about it.

"Hello? Earth to Peyton," he says as he waves a hand in front of my face, laughing. "Are you even listening to what I've said?"

"You said it," I tell him.

"What?" He asks, definitely confused out of his mind.

"The L word," I clarify. He raises his eyebrows once he realizes what he's said.

"Hmmm. I guess I did, didn't I."

"Do you mean it?" I ask with skepticism, hoping to hear the answer all girls want to hear.

"Well, duh!"

"Duh?"

"Yeah, duh. No brainer. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. 100% crystal clear," he says with his bright, white smile. "I, Marcus, love you, Peyton. You have brought so much joy into my life in the short time that I've known you, and I love you for that. You are an amazing person, and I am lucky to have met you, and I am even more lucky to call you my girlfriend."

My heart leaps out of my chest after hearing him say that he loves me and calls me his girlfriend. It baffles me how such a kind, genuine guy with so many things going for him could ever find space for an emotionally damaged, midwestern kid like me.

"Please say something, Peyton," he begs me. "I basically just put it all out there, so if you don't at least respond, I'll feel stupid."

"And I you," I tell him.

"You I what?" he asks confused.

"I love you, too," I tell him with a big smile, "duh."

Before I can get anything out, he leans across the table to kiss me. After just revealing our true feelings for eachother, physically touching Marcus creates butterflies in my stomach. I know that I made the right decision by coming here.

"Hey, you can't do that in here!" one of the teenagers working the cashier yells at us. We just laugh it off, and finish our coffees. Nothing could bring us down.