Not What I Expected (A Marcel Fanfic)

Chapter 25

I walk with my head down, trying unsuccesfully to hide myself behind the pile of books and binders. Everybody is watching me, I know it. I look up cautiously, and notice no one is even glancing at me.

Oh yeah, haha, wait, I'm not popular. Although the whole school knows about what happened at the Halloween party, no one cares. It's just one of those rumours you 'OMG!' at and forget about like three seconds later. Louis isn't known for hooking up and I'm not known for giving random blowjobs, but as I'm unpopular and blowjobs are 'just a part of life', it's not so interesting. To be fair, I'm glad it's not; I hate being in the spotlight too much.

Alexa left my side somewhere along the hallway, seeing one of her friends and squealing. I stop in front of my locker, dropping my bag to the floor and entering the combination. As I pull open the door, a piece of paper falls from the top. I stuff my books inside the locker, before I bend down and pick it up.

"Happy New Year! Have a beautiful day like yourself :)"

I frown and crumple it in my hand. The guy must've messed up the lockers. As I pick up my bag, Alexa is pushed into the locker next to me, and Zayn collapses his mouth to hers. Yep, I'm going to leave before I feel too invisibile.

I turn around and start walking to my first class. Third period is when I'll see Marcel... the new Marcel. I feel a hand around my shoulder and my head shoots to my right to see who it is.

"Hey you." Louis smiles down at me. I'm starting to feel very uncomfortable.

"Hi."

"We haven't talked in so long! How was Paris?"

"It was great. How was L.A.?" I question, earning a grin from him.

"Full of celebrities. Right or left?" he points to the right then to the left.

"Right."

"I have to go left. See you later, Dee."

I watch him walk away, feeling relieved he wasn't awkward or mentioned the incident or tried to kiss me. At that same moment, Leeroy walks past me.

"Leeroy, hey! I haven't seen you in ages!" I grab his shoulder, and he turns around, glaring. I have never seen Leeroy so angry.

"I think there's a reason for that, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, I went to Paris, but..." I really don't think he was thinking about this reason.

"Wonderful. Listen, Delilah, I don't want to hang out with you anymore. In fact, I don't even want to see you. You hurt Marcel so bad... and he didn't even want to let me comfort him. He was my only friend! You changed him! He doesn't even want to be around me anymore!" he shouts quietly enough for only me to hear. He walks away before I can say anything else, and I can't help but feel a lump in my throat.

I liked Leeroy, I really did. And no one has ever mentioned the fact Marcel never hangs out with Leeroy anymore. He doesn't know how sorry I am, how much I wish I could turn back time. I never wanted this to happen, I never wanted Marcel to be part of Zayn's little group and leave Leeroy behind.

I head to class and sit down next to Alexa.

"What's up with you?" she asks.

"The Halloween party, that's what's up."

"Explain."

"Later." I lie, perfectly aware of the fact we will both forget.

Two hours later, I stand in front of the open door to the classroom I have class in. I really don't want to go in. And also really do. I haven't seen Marcel all morning, and I don't know if I want to. I'm worried to see what I made of him, worried that I may see him with a girl.

The teacher stares at me as I stare at the door.

"Delilah, what are you doing? Come in." he orders. I can never argue with teachers, so I step forward. It only takes two seconds to step in, and I put my bag on the ever-empty table of the front row, not wanting to walk to the back of the class, risking to see Marcel. I'm so pathetic.

All of a sudden, Marcel starts laughing. I look his way against my will and I can feel my heart cracking and then breaking. He's not the same Marcel. Everything Alexa's friend said about him is true, his hair, his eyes , his clothes... He doesn't have his glasses on either, and I'm sure he's making a big effort trying to see. He's laughing at something a girl I don't know the name of said.

Jealousy is spreading through my body all the way to my fingertips, and I slam the history book on the table harder than I intended. All eyes are on me. Including Marcel's. We're staring at each other, and I feel like an idiot. I notice his eyes are darker and angry, hurt, spiteful. But no sign of broken. I didn't break him like he did me, I only made him furious, which is never good.

He turns back to his friend abruptly, putting his hand through her hair, tilting her head so he can whisper in her ear. Her eyes grow wide, her cheeks turn pink and she bites her lip. I can feel the pieces of my heart shrinking. I look away before Marcel can turn to look at me.

You've done it! You've fucking done it, Marcel! You hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before!

I wait for the professor to tell us it's okay to sit down, but he doesn't.

"I've made a sitting plan because I love to make your life miserable, as my professors did when I was young, so from now on you will sit in the seats I will assign." he says loudly. Although he constantly makes his students' lives miserable, this teacher is still my favourite teacher. He moves around a few people.

"Delilah! Third row, next to the window. Marcel will sit next to you."

Being my favorite teacher, I always obey to his barked orders, so I grab my things faster than what he just said can sink in. Marcel throws his bag on the seat next to mine, and his familiar perfume invades my personal space, bringing back so many memories. My hands and feet are becoming very cold. He says nothing as he sits down. He looks so hot and I wish I could just wrap my arms around his neck and tell him how much I missed him and how sorry I am; but I can't. He's not mine anymore.

The fact the whiteboard is on the right side of the classroom and I'm sat on the left side of it makes it much more easy for me to stare at Marcel. I know he won't look at me, so even if he notices the fact I'm staring he'll shut up about it.

When the professor asks us to write down some dates related to World War II, I watch as Marcel's true self comes out. He can smoke and let his hair un-gelled all he wants, but he will forever be a nerd. He frowns and bites his lip, trying to learn the dates as he writes them down. He once told me that this was his favorite way of learning.

"Delilah, when did the U.S. join the U.K.?" I'm so surprised I'm being questioned that I just stand there, the date I know perfectly not wanting to show up in my head.

"1939." Marcel whispers by my side. I'm so shocked goosbumps form on my skin.

"1939?" I try to answer, as the professor closes his eyes and rubs his temples. Wrong answer. Marcel puts his hand up and the teacher nods.

"1941." he says proudly, and the professor nods again.

The professor scolds me and I feel my eyes sting, not because I'm being yelled at but because Marcel just made me make a fool of myself, he gave me a wrong answer. I don't think you understand, but the real Marcel would never do that, he'd be too nice. He doesn't even bother looking at me. I knew the answer, I knew the U.S. joined the war in 1941, but the shock of him talking to me was too much, so I trusted him, I thought he cared.

The worst part is, I think he doesn't know I'm hurting just as much as he is. Well, if he's actually hurting. He wants to make me jealous, he wants to hurt my ego, but he doesn't understand he broke my heart. That's a very stupid thing to say actually; I broke my own heart.