tangled up in blue

14

care- beabadoobee 

Noah

A few days had passed since the party, and I'd spent it trying to forget about my shitty excuse for a life. We tried to make the most of the beginning of summer, despite me and my best friend campaigning to stay inside every day. I still remained white as ever, even though I was held hostage by Beth and Pacey to 'soak up the sun', which in my opinion, was a sickening collection of words. The past week had been filled with polaroids of me looking miserable, Lee and Pacey somehow enjoying themselves, and Beth pretending she was in a teen movie. It's not like I didn't have fun at all, singing along to throwbacks in the car with the wind in my hair. But behind the laughter, I was somewhere else.

My friends were trying their best to distract me, but the pit that had been in my stomach since I was fourteen was growing even larger. The accident had made it worse with the numbness that followed, and after a month of finally feeling somewhat okay again, I went and got drugged. It was even worse knowing that the person who had wanted to hurt me was out there, living their life, unaware of the fact that mine was crumbling down around me.

I was feeling better when we returned from our last drive of the week. The sun was setting as we hauled our tired limbs through the ivy covered entrance of the house, and while Lee ran off to take a shower, I entered the large, open kitchen. A large, open kitchen, where the last person I expected to see was leaning over the countertop.

"Oh, hey!" Marcella was grinned at me, a glass of milk in her hands. She was tall, naturally skinny, and so modelled to perfection that it hurt. It hurt, because I knew why she was there.

"Er, hi, Marcella."

"You can just call me Cella, you know. Or Marcy. All my friends do."

I almost winced at her teasing smile as I looked for a glass. "Yeah, I think I'll just call you Marcella."

I felt like slapping myself after realising how much it had sounded like a complete rejection of friendship. Despite the fact that it very much was a complete rejection of friendship. To my relief, though, she burst out laughing.

"Oh my god. He was right about you. You're funny, Noah."

Who was right about what?

"Um," I stammered, blushing and scratching the back of my head. "Thanks? I, uh, didn't mean-"

"It's fine, seriously," she said, her full, crimson lips spreading. "I'm used to people sucking up to me. I fucking hate it."

I took in her black, grunge clothing and laid back confidence, and noted that she wasn't exactly what I'd expected. "You poor thing," I said dryly, testing the limits. "That must be so hard for you."

She laughed again, and moved closer to punch my shoulder. "Shut up."

Even though I wanted to hate her, I couldn't resist smiling.

Her grin faded slightly, and she looked at me softly, still leaning on the kitchen island. "Hey, are you okay? Jace told us he got you back safe, but uh, how are you doing? Since... everything?"

She almost seemed as nervous as I was, but avoiding her gaze, I managed to reply. "I'm good." After she said nothing, I rolled my eyes and looked back at her from our equal height. "I swear. I mean, I won't lie and tell you I don't think about it. But I didn't get hurt, so... so it's okay. I'm okay."