When The Puppet Falls For The Puppeteer

The Line I Drew

"Was I dreaming," Ash said behind me, "or did the Dark Lord just apologize?"

I didn't answer.

She leaned against the door. "Okay, seriously—what did he do? Did he cheat on you or something? Because that level of grovel—"

"What?" I snapped. "We're not even a couple, Ash. Don't say stupid things."

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "It's just... I've never heard him say sorry. Like, ever. That's not small. That's... something." She looked at me, "This is a whole soap opera"

"Oh c'mon" I left irritated.

I wandered through the halls, needing air. Needing space. Needing to feel something other than confusion.

He said sorry. In front of Ash and Dan.

That wasn't like him. That was a crack.

A softening.

Was I overreacting?

Or had I finally pushed him hard enough to fall from his high pedestal, his God complex?

Was I... winning?

And if I was—then why did it feel like losing?

I was still in those thoughts when I bumped into someone. My books nearly fell.

"Whoa, hey—careful there," a voice said, and a hand caught my books before they hit the floor.

It was Cho. A soft-smiled, effortlessly kind guy from chem class. Korean-American, always had earbuds in and wore his heart on his sleeve.

"Sorry," I breathed. "Didn't see you."

"No problem." He looked me over and smiled. "Wow, Myra. Didn't recognize you at first. You look... sexy, I mean you look really beautiful"

My stomach turned, but I managed a polite smile. "Um-yeah thanks, I guess" 

As I moved to step around him, he said, "Hey—do you wanna grab a coffee sometime? Like after class?"

"Cho, I-I don't-" I was about to say no. I was ready to say no.

And then I saw him.

Marcus.

At the end of the hallway. Watching.

"You know what?" I said, louder than necessary. "Yeah. Let's do it."

Cho blinked, pleasantly surprised. "Cool. After class? Marigold?"

"Sure," I nodded, swallowing down the quake inside me.

Marcus hadn't moved.

I waited.

Waited for the tug on my arm. The storm in his voice. The eruption.

But nothing.

He just stood there.

Still. Silent. Watching.

It felt more terrifying than a tantrum.

My hands trembled at my sides, but I clenched them into fists.

Cho walked off, humming. I turned to head to class.

That's when I heard it.

"Oh my god, Myra?" Jess said as she passed me. Her eyes swept me head to toe, smirking. "Who knew you had a whole escort-core look hiding under those girl next door dresses?"

I bit my cheek. Walked past her. Didn't flinch. Didn't look back.

Because Marcus was still there. Not stopping me. Not chasing me.

Just watching.

And somehow, that silence was louder than any scream.

"You are going really?" Ash asked surprised.

"I-I don't know. I said yes out of anger. But Cho must be waiting, its wrong if I don't go" I said bitting my lips.

I was pacing briskly at the bleachers. Dan just got free from practice and Ash was here. Marcus didn't come for practice. Dan told me he is in the gym, punching a real punching bag for a change and not me.

"If you don't want to go you can call and cancel" Dan said drinking water

"I think you should go" Ash said 

I looked at Dan, his look for telling me I am playing with fire here. But he never interfered, he will not say anything.

"ughhh....Marcus will kill me" I let out an irritated grunt.

"Oh c'mon you only say you guys are not a couple. For the first time you said yes to some guy. Try it. Its not like you are dating, you are going for one coffee." Ash said holding my shoulders. I let out a sigh.

The bell above the door jingled softly as I stepped into the café. The air smelled like cinnamon and espresso—warm, comforting, but I still felt cold inside.

Cho was already there, waiting at a corner table by the window. He waved when he saw me.

"Myra," he greeted with a crooked grin. "Wow. You actually came."

"Yeah," I smiled weakly. "Guess I surprised myself."

He stood up, polite as ever, pulling out my chair. For a moment, I wished I could just sink into this calm. Cho was easy. Gentle. Uncomplicated. Nothing about him felt like danger.

Unlike Marcus.

"You want something?" he asked, already halfway to the counter. "I'm buying."

"I'll take an irish cappuccino."

"Coming right up."

I sat there, fingers tightening around the hem of my dress. My rebellion was still clinging to me like a second skin, but now it itched. I didn't know if it was guilt or fear or the ache that came from pretending to be fine.

"You okay?" Cho asked when he returned, setting my drink in front of me.

"Yeah," I lied. "Just... tired."

"I get that. School's a lot. And then there's, like, the Marcus Clayton drama."

I froze.

He laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring him up. It's just... everyone talks."

"Let them," I said, staring into my cup. "They don't know anything."

Cho's gaze softened. "You know, if he's hurting you—like really hurting you—you could seek help"

I looked up, surprised.

He added, "I'm not saying he is. I'm just saying... You don't have to stay stuck."

"He doesn't hurt me" I said with a straight face. "Alright then" he said ending the topic.

We talked for a little longer—mostly about random things. Music. College applications. His mom's obsession with baking. I laughed once. Maybe twice. But every time the bell above the door chimed, I tensed.

Waiting.

Watching.

But he didn't come.

We stepped outside and the wind nipped at my bare shoulders.

That's when I saw him.

Marcus.

Leaning against his car parked across the street. Arms crossed. Face unreadable.