Not So Broken - Eminem [DISCONTINUED]

A Thank-You

"Well that was an adrenaline rush," I breathed, feeling exhilarated. Marshall was grinning like an idiot when I looked at him.

"Sure was." He paused, then added cleverly, "And if it wasn't, I don't know what the hell is." I laughed. Marshall got off the stage, offering me a hand to help right after. I accepted his gesture, jumping down as well. He then met my gaze again, excitedly.

"We should go do something."

"Something?" I scoffed. "Like what?"

He thought for a moment, before a sinister grin tugged at his features.

Uh-oh.

~Three hours later~

"Damn it!" I shouted breathlessly as a red paintball splattered on the stomach of my shirt. We had been running around the park for hours, laughing and shooting multicolored paints at one another. I threw up my hands, dropping my gun and letting it clatter at my feet. "You win!" I announced.

I heard Marshall laughing, watched as he fell next to the rock he had been hiding behind. When he did manage to catch his breath, he got to his feet. Blue, Purple, and green paint was spread all over his once white shirt, but he didn't seem to mind.

"That was awesome!"

"Only cause you won!" I complained, but with a laughing tone.

He grinned. Then, his face suddenly went blank, his eyes glaring at the scuffed grass by his feet. "Hey, Sadie? I've got somethin' I wanna ask." I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

Then, taking a step towards him, I replied, "What is it?"

"Why'd you do that? You know, at the club? Why'd you stand up for me?"

I halted. Silence took over the moment, darkening the feel of the atmosphere.

"Well," I started, "Cause I'd never seen a white boy rap like you. And, I guess, me being both white and a lover of rap and hip hop, you kind of proved that my dreams were possible. You know?"

This time it was my turn to admire my shoes.

"And that meant a lot. So, when all those people just saw your skin and immediately disregarded you, I just couldn't let that happen. And I'm not lying when I say this: I know you can be famous one day."

Marshall's face slowly broke out in a grin. "Well, I don't know about famous," he said lightly.

I looked at him with serious eyes, but with a smile hidden just below the surface. "Well I do." Marshall's smile grew after my response.

"I'm taking you out to dinner."

My wide eyes met his, almost frantically. "N-no, I couldn't! You're not going to spend money on someone like me-"

He cut me off, "Don't worry about it. Take this as a thanks for what you did earlier."

I felt my face slowly light up.

This feeling... I was thinking as we left the park. I was following close behind Marshall, my eyes watching him warmly.

What is it?