Marianne Elizabeth Hammer (top young adult novels TXT) 📖

he still tries to say that he was just nervous and needed more time to think, but I know the truth. He needed to know that I’d still be there when he came back.”

Marianne swallowed. “Okay, maybe I am a tester. Lucky for Dad, though, that you were still there.”

“He was worth it, and so are you,” said Mom. She gave Marianne a half-smile. “I guess your boy wasn’t as smart as we all thought he was, huh?”

“Guess not,” said Marianne, staring down at the churning water. “Maybe I am better off without him then. But it’s still kind of hard to be happy about being alone.”

“Well…” Mom made a face. “I never said that you should be happy about being alone. And Patrick is a great guy. He really seemed—”

“Stop,” said Marianne.

“I just mean to say that it’s okay to be sad and lonely. You need—”

“Wait, what?” said Marianne. “I thought I was being inexcusably mopey.”

“Oh, you are,” said Mom. “But it’s not bad to want a lover. You need one.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…”

“Well, you do,” said Mom, splashing Marianne. “We all need someone to love us and—”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” said Marianne. “It was just your word choice that was bothering me.”

“What? Lover?”

“Yes,” said Marianne, cringing again at the word.

“Lover,” said Mom. “Lover, lover, lover…”

“Nope,” said Marianne, standing up. “I’m not drunk enough for this. I’m going in.”

Mom laughed. “Fine. But give me a hug, first.”

“Not without clothes, I won’t,” said Marianne.

“Oh, come on,” said Mom. “I breastfed you for heaven’s sake. You loved it, too. You wouldn’t quit till you were three years old…”

“Mom.” Marianne took a step back. “It’s time to stop now.”

“It was so sweet,” said Mom, smiling wistfully. “You’d come up and pat me and say, ‘Titty, Mommy.’”

“Holy monkeys!” Marianne practically launched herself out of the spa, but Mom still managed to goose her on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Marianne lay on the floor of the dark living room in a sleeping bag. Sally was making her go to bed early so she’d be all fresh for Bats Day tomorrow.

She could hear Danielle whispering on the phone in the other room. “Just give him a bottle. You can handle this… Yeah, she seems like she’s a lot better, but I still want to stay. We’re camping out in the living room… For fun, Mike, that’s what girls do for fun… James can sleep on Patrick’s old bed, can’t he?… Just give him a bottle!”

Marianne was doing a lot better? Was it all the yelling or all the weeping that gave Danielle that idea? Marianne smiled to herself and rolled over onto her back. If anything, she felt worse in some new, jittery way. It was like her mind was moving too fast. Like she needed to go for a run or shout at somebody. Was that truly an improvement on sleeping all day?

Marianne flipped over again, smashing her face into the pillow. Go to sleep.

…

It wasn’t working. Frick. She had to get up and do something. Anything…

No. Go to sleep. She pulled the pillow up and over the back of her head. Tomorrow would be a new day, a good day. She could do this. She would get over Patrick, and she would move on in a better way than before. The real world and the Goth world had collided tonight, and it was fine. Everyone knew all her secrets, and it was fine. She was fine.

She wasn’t fine. She had to get up and do something.

No. Go to bed. Breathe. In and out. Relax. Nothing’s wrong, it’s just a panic attack. That’s a perfectly normal reaction to have when you discover the answer to all your problems, only about a month too late…

Marianne sat up onto her knees. Wait. One. Fricking. Second.

“What is it?” whispered Georgia.

“Nothing,” said Marianne. “It’s okay, go to sleep.”

Marianne stayed frozen on her knees, trying desperately to catch up with her own brain. She had the answer to all her problems? No, she didn’t. But then, why did it feel as if she did?

“What’s the matter, honey,” whispered Danielle, tip-toeing back into the room.

“Nothing,” said Marianne. “I’m just thinking.”

“Why are you doing it like that?” said Danielle. “You look creepy.”

Marianne waved her hand. “Shh!” She was coming near to it, now. The answer. She was having a panic attack because she knew something… something big… something brilliant… it was coming… any second now…

Nothing came to her. Well, maybe right now.

Still nothing happened, but that’s okay. Just wait for it… Now.

Okay, now.

Now.

Nope. She must have been making it up. Marianne exhaled. “Frick.”

“What, honey?” said Danielle.

“Nothing. Sorry,” whispered Marianne, climbing back into her sleeping bag. “I was just thinking that… that…”

“Spit it out.”

“I don’t know, something about…” Marianne shot up into a sitting position. Oh, crap. She almost had it there, but now it was gone again. But she had realized one little piece of information: Whatever it was, she didn’t like it very much.

“What the hell, Marianne?”

“Um…” Marianne shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Then shut up.”

“Yeah, sorry. Sorry.” Marianne curled into a ball and covered her head with the sleeping bag. She wrapped her arms around her knees, breathing hard. What the hell was wrong with her right now? What was she so afraid of?

Afraid? Marianne opened her eyes and stared at the blanket lying across her face. Who said anything about afraid?

Oh, no. Marianne flung the blanket off her face and stared up at the ceiling in horror. No way. She refused to even think the words…

You have to talk to Patrick.

Nope. Marianne shook her head back and forth. No. That’s all. No.

You have to talk to Patrick.

Marianne covered her face with her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. No way. What possible reason could she have for talking to him? He would just say no all over again. He’d dumped her. Nothing had changed.

Well, all right. A few things had changed. All her bozo secrets were out. The two worlds had collided, and she’d survived. She’d learned.

Puh-lease!