Marianne Elizabeth Hammer (top young adult novels TXT) 📖

too dumb to name. Marianne looked up at the mirror and quickly shut her eyes. She sank down on the floor with the bottle still in her hand.

If she was the person she thought she was, then Patrick could not possibly love her. But he did. She knew he did. Patrick said it, and she believed him. She believed him because she felt it from him all the time. His actions were in perfect harmony with his words. He was just that amazing. Ah, there it was—she could feel a bit of the appropriate fullness in her chest now. Marianne wrapped her arms around her legs and breathed into her knees.

The musty smell of the room wasn’t nauseating anymore. It felt homey. She heard Patrick walking down the hallway toward her a minute later. Marianne didn’t look up; she just lifted the bottle she was holding. “Can you finish this for me?”

“Of course,” he said. Patrick took the bottle from her hand, and she heard him start shuffling pills.

She could hear herself, too—her own shaky breathing—and for some reason, she didn’t mind that he could hear it, too. He already knew what she was feeling, he always did. It felt right for Patrick to watch her reaction.

“I finished that one,” he said. “But I don’t know what to do next.”

That was her cue to pull it together. “Okay.” Marianne sniffed and stood up. She yanked three tissues out of the box on the dresser and wiped her face. “Here, you do these.” She handed him one bottle and grabbed the last one for herself.

Patrick stood by her, large as life, and dumped a few of the pills into his hand. He tossed them into the containers and then started laughing silently. “I’m really sorry. I should have waited for a better time.”

Marianne wiped her nose. “I definitely could have used a little more warning,” she said. “But I still would have kicked you out, I think.”

“I was going to break it to you gently,” he said. “But then you had to come over here and show off your sweet nature.” Patrick finished his job and put his hands in his pockets. “All my control goes out the window when I watch you being your wonderful self. I can’t help myself.”

Marianne bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from crying again. If he admitted to seeing none of her flaws, he at least saw her few good parts, too. He noticed her. Marianne fastened the last cap and put all the bottles away in the drawer. “All done here,” she said. She’d wanted to say, “I love you, too,” but didn’t.

Patrick took Marianne to Laguna Beach. He bought her dinner at a pizza slash brewery, which she nibbled at because she’d eaten a big lunch, of course. Not really, but he didn’t ask her any questions, thankfully. She would have had to make up a menu on the spot and it would have looked suspicious. He also didn’t bring up the love thing, which was nice. She didn’t have a plan for that one yet, either. Of course, she knew how she felt, but what to say was a different matter.

After dinner, they walked around the tide pools together in the glacial wind. Marianne was cold even in her coat and jeans, but she didn’t care. Except for her ears; those were starting to ache. Patrick caught a little brown and green crab and tried to give it to Marianne to hold.

“No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t really touch animals.”

“Okay,” he said, putting his finger up for the crab to pinch. “I think it’s illegal to pick them up, anyway.” He stooped down over the rocks and released the crab into the big pool right by them. She couldn’t imagine how he could stand sticking his hands in the chilly water. It made her ears hurt more just to watch him.

“You know, Patrick...” Marianne sat down on the flattest rock she could find. “Fish pee in that water.”

Patrick stood up and dried his hands on the bottom of his jacket. “Brilliant observation.”

“Yeah. It’s my dad’s, though. He likes to torture kids with it when he takes them to the beach.”

Patrick came and sat down by her. “Your dad is great,” he said. “And I think he likes me. I think.”

Marianne squinted out at the grayish-green waves. “My dad doesn’t even like me. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“That’s a stupid thing to say,” said Patrick.

Marianne looked up at him in shock. “I’m sorry,” she said. Patrick had never said anything like that to her before and she didn’t know what to do with it, other than apologize.

“No,” Patrick shook his head. “I didn’t mean stupid; I meant inaccurate. Your dad is nuts about you.”

Wrong. Dad was nuts because of her. The poor man was constantly worried about his only daughter; Marianne could see it in his face every day. She swallowed. “I know he is.”

Patrick took her hand in his. “I mean it. I talked to him for, like, two hours today.”

“When?”

“This morning. We did some yard work together.”

Marianne searched Patrick’s face for proof that he was lying. “My dad doesn’t do yard work.”

Patrick snickered at her. “Yeah, he told me that he makes you mow the lawn.”

“Yes. Yes, he does,” she nodded. “That’s how nuts he is about me. He doesn’t even care that I’m going to lose a toe one of these days.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows at her. “According to him, you’d be perfectly safe if you didn’t insist on wearing flip-flops.”

“It’s hot!” she whined.

Patrick bent down and kissed Marianne on her pouty lips. “Well, you don’t have to worry, anymore. I’ve taken over your job.”

Oh, guilt. Yucky, yucky guilt. “You’re going to mow the lawn for me?”

He nodded and winked. “James and I settled it all today.”

Marianne was too shocked even to thank him. “Well, at least someone cares about my feet.”

Patrick put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. “You were all