Why they run, p.22
Why They Run, page 22
He knew she would; he understood how it worked. Understood that she was gone, slipped through his fingers and wasn’t ever coming back. However, Beau knew that he would spend the rest of his life desperately trying to get her to come back. Searching for the piece of his heart that fell out the day she denied him. He wouldn’t get it back. But he would keep searching, searching until the sun dipped below the horizon and until his eyes grew dry and red. Searching because there would always be a sliver of hope, no matter how small. Searching, because Beau still loves her. He always would. But he couldn’t stay. Beau knew he would go mad if he ever saw them together. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d already done so much damage, and Beau was scared. Scared of what he could be capable of if his heart broke the way it did again.
He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see it. So, he would go. Leave and continue his life as normal. He was eighteen, he’d done all his credits required to graduate, and he could get out. Get his diploma early, go to MIT, and continue living his life as if that night had never happened. It would be for the best of everyone, himself included. He would leave. Quitting his past life and moving forward. But Beau knew that even though the dreams of being with her might subside, the nightmare of losing her would plague him forever. It was something he had to live with. Because that’s life. There isn’t always a happy ending.
30
MARCUS
“So, what do you think of her?” Marcus asked, leaning down to match his younger sister’s height.
Cora grabbed his arm, leaning on him with her delicate body. “I like her,” she hummed, nodding in agreement.
“Me too, girl.” Marcus smiled, pinching Cora’s cheek.
She was only eight, but Marcus wanted to hold onto her innocence as long as he could. She giggled, shimmying out of his grip and onto the kitchen floor, running around squealing.
“Marcus is in looove.”
Marcus blushed, laughing tightly. “Cora, stop it.”
Meghan came from around the corner, holding something behind her back. “What was that, Cora?” she asked, fluttering her lashes at Marcus.
“I said, Marcus is in LOO —” Marcus scooped her up, hauling the girl over his shoulder.
“That’s enough from you, potato sack.” He tossed her head upside down over his shoulder like a burlap bag. He’s been trying to introduce the two girls, hoping Cora would take a liking to Meghan. He’s right, of course. Cora adored her. He just didn’t realize that would mean Cora was so chatty. He was planning on saying it eventually, just that it still felt too soon. Marcus set down the worming girl, and she ran over to Meghan, who was giggling wildly.
“You’ve got an attitude, don’t you, Cora?” She smiled, tucking the little girl’s hair behind her ears. She leaned in closer, whispering in her ear. “Don’t lose it, you have a spark that will do amazing things one day.” Cora smiled brightly, her missing tooth evident in her grin.
“Marcus doesn’t call it a spark. He says I talk so much because my prefrontal complex isn’t done growing.” She smirked. Marcus’s face burned.
“Prefrontal cortex, and mine’s not done growing either, Cora. It’s mid-20s, remember?” he mumbled, swinging his legs off the counter like he was an eight-year-old.
“Speaking of great things, I have a present for you!” Meghan chided. Marcus hopped down from the counter, reaching Meghan and wrapping his arm around her waist.
“You didn’t have to, you know.”
“No, she totally did, it’s a right of passage. You wouldn’t understand because you’re a boy,” Cora announced, holding out her hands in expectancy.
“Yeah, Marcus,” Meghan teased, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Alright, close your eyes.”
Cora did as asked, and Meghan placed the object in her hands. Cora’s eyes opened, widening instantly. It was a small bee plush, embezzled with a honeycomb logo.
“It’s the spelling bee! From my competitions!” she squealed, hugging the plush close to her chest. Marcus was shocked. He’d mentioned she loved spelling, maybe once. And that was all it took for Meghan to come up with such a caring gift? He smiled at Cora, now examining every inch of her new toy.
“You like it?” he asked, widening his smile.
“I love it! Thank you, Meghan!” She ran towards her, wrapping her arms around Meghan’s legs. Meghan bent down, returning the gesture.
“You’re so welcome, Cora. I’m glad you like it.” She turned to Marcus, her honey eyes looking longingly into his dark ones. Marcus chuckled, pulling Meghan closer.
“I thought you were my little bee?” he whispered, lips grazing her ear.
“You have two women in your life now. Two bees.” She smiled, draping her arms around his neck. “But for you, Marcus, I will always be your little bee. Your bee, your girlfriend, anything as long as I’m yours.” His heart pounded. It had already been upwards of eight weeks, yet he still felt the same panging in his heart, the same crush as puppy love that he felt since they first kissed.
“Good thing I don’t plan on losing you.” They kissed lightly, saving their electric love for when the children were gone. Still, Marcus almost likes this better. It wasn’t needy or full of greed. It was soft, gentle kissing full of sweetness. It was light, yet swarming with emotion. Like having full conversations without having to say a word. Like knowing each other’s favorite color. Like baking cookies and wiping frosting on each other’s noses. Like a best friend.
“Ew!” Marcus slowly broke apart, wanting to make a show out of it. Meghan seemed to think so too, because they both turned directly to Cora, smiling brightly, cocking their heads before kissing again, quick and smooth. “Now you’re just doing it on purpose!”
She whined, stepping in between the two. “You know you love each other, so you don’t have to be kissing all the time,” Cora explained, having successfully parted the two. Marcus was speechless.
“Cora.”
“She’s not wrong. Is she?”
Marcus looked at her, brown waves flowing down her shoulders, honey eyes feeding his desires, his dreams. Her smile was welcoming and warm. She was always right, always.
“No, she’s not wrong.”
They exchanged smiles, unaware of the feelings they just admitted to one another, and continued keeping Cora occupied. Which wasn’t all too difficult if you had a spelling book, Cheez-Its, and Tangled. The evening went smoothly, with Cora eventually leaving with Mrs. Levine to go grocery shopping. She’d gotten used to Meghan being around, although when Marcus introduced the two, he did specifically leave out all mentions of making out. Other than the slight white lie, they got along quite well. She of course bombarded Meghan with all questions about her future, ambitions, and what she wanted out of life and Mrs. Levine seemed altogether thrilled with her responses.
“She seems like a darling girl to me. Don’t go screwing this up now, baby,” she’d told him.
“Not planning on it,” he said. Meghan sighed, gathering up her stuff and looking at Marcus with a look that said, ‘I love you, but I have to go.’
“Where do you need to go?”
“The movies, the girls and I are gonna go.”
Marcus felt a little pang in his heart, but let it go just as quickly as it came. He didn’t own her, and had no control over whether she wanted to do something fun with her friends. Her friends, not his. Meaning, he wasn’t invited. Which was fine.
“What movie?”
“‘My Girl!’ They’re having an anniversary watch party, and I needed to see it.” Marcus smiled . He could hear the happiness in her voice. She loved that movie, going on about it for hours. It was something Marcus drank in like music, hearing her rant about the things she loved.
“Have fun. Want me to drop you off?”
“Why don’t you just come with us? Bring Jason, or someone else, we’ll make it a group thing.” Marcus raised an eyebrow.
“You sure? I thought it was like a ‘girls’ night’ thing.” Meghan scoffed, bumping hips with Marcus.
“Please, ‘My Girl’ is for everyone. You’ll like it.” Marcus texted Jason, letting him know.
Sounds good, meet you in ten.
“Alright, I told him. I would invite Beau, but he’s been off. I haven’t heard from him since the party.” Meghan’s eyes widened slightly.
“No. Not Beau, don’t tell him.” Marcus stepped back. Since when was Meghan so defensive about Beau?
“ Whoa, why? I know he’s not like the best but —”
“You didn’t hear, did you?”
“Hear what?”
“Hear about the attack.”
“Wh —attack?”
Meghan spent the next ten minutes going over that night, the things they’d missed while dancing the night away and the terrors that Scarlett went through right under their feet. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing felt right. Sorry seemed too common, yet nothing else would be appropriate.
“I know, I was speechless too,” Meghan said, fire in her eyes.
“I just can’t believe he was my friend. I mean, I really trusted him.” Marcus’s mind was reeling, struggling to comprehend. He was such a good guy, wasn’t he?
“We all did. Someone like that just doesn’t do . . . stuff like that. It’s all weird,” Meghan concluded, marching Marcus out the door.
“Alright, so definitely not inviting Beau. I’ll just have Jason then, he loves romance films.”
So, it was settled. They drove to the theater, Meghan telling Marcus all about her day and everything that was new with her on the way there. Marcus loved these conversations; just talking with Meghan was like entering a whole other world.
“Favorite book. Go.” Meghan said, feet propped up on the dashboard.
“Is this my question of the day?” Meghan winked.
“You bet it is.” Marcus hummed in thought, looking out the window like inspiration would come to him.
“Um . . . definitely Crazy Rich Asians,” he said, leaning his head back on the rest.
“Really? Henry Golding?” Meghan asked, laughing a little.
“Is it the love or the fact that they’re too rich for their own good?” Marcus smiled, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Maybe the love. But I do aspire to be like Peik Lin someday.” Meghan let out a loud laugh, and Marcus grinned.
“You know, if I could make you laugh, just like this, for the rest of my life, I don’t need to be rich,” he said, gaze falling to Meghan’s lips.
“If I could see that adorable sweater vest every day of my life, I think I’d be pretty happy,” she said, leaning in. Marcus, focused on the road, but felt Meghan’s glances at him, the way she was looking at him.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over in his seat, turning his head and kissing Meghan lightly, slowly. She grabbed his face, losing themselves in the contact.
“Whoa, can’t kiss if we crash, Marcus,” she said, pulling out of touch and turning Marcus back into his seat.
“Sorry, someone has the power to distract me, that’s all.” He veered back into his lane, and the two continued their drive to the theater in loving silence.
“Sorry, Jason, out of M&Ms,” Zoe announced, carrying three bags of popcorn, Skittles, and a pouch of raisinets.
“Got the last ones, roadkill, sorry,” Scarlett said, taking her seat by Zoe, and waving the pack of candies in Jason’s face. Marcus chuckled.
“You know sharing is caring, right, Artega?” Jason asked, grabbing the box with quick reflexes. He laughed as Scarlett fought to get them back. Scarlett lunged for the box, successfully grabbing it from the boy’s grasp, though Marcus notices Jason flinching slightly at the sudden movement. They took their seats, lights dimming and the trailers started. Marcus’s phone went off, and he fumbled to open it.
“No phones in the theater, Marcus, don’t make me come over there.” Jason threatened from where he was, reaching over Zoe to snag Scarlett’s food.
“What is it?” Meghan asked from beside him, peering over his shoulder at the text.
“It’s Beau.” At the mention of his name, Scarlett’s head snapped up, followed by Jason, breaking his attention away from food to dissect Marcus’s expression. “It’s long too,” he added, hesitant to open the message.
“Read it,” Scarlett prompted. Marcus inhaled deeply, opening his contact.
Hey Marcus,
I know I’m the last person you want to hear from. I’m not surprised if you all hate me by now, trust me so do I. But good news you don’t have to hear from me anyways because I’m leaving. I got into MIT early admission, so I’m already accepted. I figured it was for the best that I just go. This wasn’t your fault Marcus, and you really have been a good friend to me. You’re a good person, you’re genuine. Some things I wish I could be. I’m sorry it has to be like this, really I am, but I just can’t handle it anymore. I won’t explain it, I don’t expect you to get it. So please just try to not be too pissed at me for leaving. Hopefully we see each other again someday, though not likely. I need to move forward, not dwell on the past all that crap. So I guess for now this is goodbye. I’ve always hated goodbyes, but there you have it. Thank you for showing me kindness, Marcus. Do better things in life than I did.
“What?” Marcus’s hands shook, setting his phone down clumsily. “He’s leaving? Just . . . gone?” The others looked similarly shocked, Zoe’s face displaying a look of shock, while Jason’s held a sense of betrayal.
“He’s been our best friend for so long, makes one shitty mistake and just leaves?” he breathed, fingering his necklace. Marcus didn’t know what to do. Everyone expects him to hate Beau because of what he did, and yes, part of him did. But the other part of him was still his best friend. Part of him still cared about him.
“It’s alright not to want him to go, Marcus. You two have known each other a long time,” Meghan said, laying a comforting hand on his arm.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just doesn’t make sense.” He rubbed his temples.
“Of course, it makes sense. He was a good guy for a while, did something terrible that he knows we all won’t forget, so instead of apologizing, he just decided to leave all the destruction he caused behind him. Like the coward he is.” Scarlett fumed a few seats down from him, gray eyes lit like a flame.
“I’ve known him since we were little. Even then, he ran from his problems.” She picked at her nails, eyes to the floor. “I just never thought I would be one of them.” Jason stood up stiffly from his chair, gathering his things and stalking out of the theater, face unreadable.
“Jason,” Marcus called out, but the boy didn’t respond.
“Sorry, guys,” Marcus said, standing up, kissing Meghan on the forehead. “And sorry, I really did want to see this with you. I promise it wasn’t some grand ploy to leave.”
“I know, Marcus, just go.” Meghan smiled, pushing him gently off her. Marcus smiled, yet the second he turned around, he broke into a nervous jog to find his best friend.
31
MARCUS
It wasn’t long until he found him. He was sitting on a bench, right outside the theater, knees brought up to his chest, where his head was resting on them. He fidgeted with his necklace rapidly, spinning the shark in his fingers and prodding its sharp fins into his palm. A white AirPod sat in his ear, where it practically always was, playing some mix of music to calm Jason, depending on his mood. His hands shook slightly, his shoulders rising and falling in quick rhythms. Jason’s hair fell into his face, blocking Marcus from seeing him at all. He started towards him, taking a seat beside Jason on the bench.
“He’s really leaving?” Jason asked, the sound muffled by his sweatshirt sleeve.
“Sounds like it.” Marcus put an arm around his friend, pulling him in closer. “He didn’t tell you goodbye, did he?” Jason shook his head slightly.
“It’s not like I expected he would, not after what I did. But after what he did, I wouldn’t expect him to even want to show his face here again. And I wouldn’t expect a text.”
“But you did,” Marcus stated, flipping through all his messages with Beau before that night. Before a friend became someone to be feared. “And the fact that you didn’t hurts you.”
Jason lifted his head up, slightly red eyes meeting Marcus’s. “It shouldn’t hurt me. I don’t even know how to describe what I felt when I found him hurting her. I was just . . . so angry. I said things that I never would’ve if it hadn’t been that exact situation. If it wasn’t her.”
OK, not what I was expecting.
“Her?”
“Scarlett.”
Marcus thought hard, trying to recall their past encounters. He had seemed slightly less anti-Artega lately, though Marcus just assumed it was because finals were coming up. He took Jason’s hand in his, a gesture made purely of the kind of friendships that last you years. “You like her?” A long pause, and then a sigh.
“I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel like I could like her. I feel like I want to, but then just as quickly, I remember my goals. Why I even joined track . . . and I realize I can’t like her. Not when it could cost me my future,” he explained, running a free hand through his hair. “I guess I don’t know is my answer. I want to, but I can’t. It just doesn’t work.”
