The Secret Life of Inanimate Objects

Chapter Seven

Friday, March 2;

20:13

"A bug? As in, a listening device?" said Marco over the music, handing me a glass of fruit punch.

I took it gratefully, wanting something to do. "Yeah," I yelled back, taking a long swig.

"So you think your dad was going all CIA on you? Why?"

I shrugged. Actually, I had a hunch that he wanted to catch me in the act of jumping at the sound of a piece of furniture moving.

Or to make sure that Marco and I weren't "having intercourse", as he so wonderfully put it. I had no intention of letting Marco in on THAT particular part of my father's speech.

"You're sure it was a bug?" Marco was saying. He glanced over at the dancefloor distractedly, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm not stupid, OK?"

He looked down at me. "Of course not, Ter. But we all make mistakes. You said yourself that you were emo after he left. Perhaps - "

"Perhaps WHAT, Marco? I was hallucinating? Dreaming?" I scowled.

He didn't believe me. My best friend in the whole universe thought I was a fruit loop; a Loony Lisa. Throughout the day, I had debated with myself about whether or not I should tell him. In hindsight, the crowed school gym wasn't the best place to do it, but he could've at least humoured me.

Marco rolled his eyes. "In five seconds' time, I'm going to pull you onto the dancefloor and we're going to dance," he said firmly, grabbing my empty cup from me and setting it on the table behind us. "You're going to forget about whatever shit it is you saw. And you sure as hell are gonna forget about going home. You got that, Terra Martins?"

"I don't dance. You know that," I replied, through gritted teeth.

He took my hand and dragged me into the crowd. "But I dance. You know that."

I was surrounded by denim. Jeans everywhere. Skinnies. Hipsters. Bootlegs. Boyfriend. Cropped. Low-slung. People had taken 'Denim, Baby' way too seriously.

Wow. I was analyzing jeans in lieu of probing my problems. Maybe going out really did have its perks.

"You know, Ter, you don't have two left feet," said Marco, his chin resting on the top of my head.

That was only because it was a slow song. It required little movement. I told this to Marco, who burst into a fit of laughter.

"Are you having a good time?" he asked after a long moment of silence. "I mean, being here. Not, well, being with me. Specifically. I mean with all these people. I know how - "

I tilted my head upwards. "What's wrong with you? You're babbling."

"Babbling? Nope." He bit his bottom lip. "I'm torn. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Terra. I'm sorry."

And he bent down and laid a soft kiss on my lips.

I jumped a mile, astonished. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. "We're best - "

He took one step forward and suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me towards him again. This time, he mashed his mouth against mine, snaking his tongue into my mouth.

I squealed - and then kissed him back, confused. Dr. Steinbeck had been right, hadn't she?

The song continued, but, for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was.

*

Saturday, March 3;

09:31

"You have a black eye!"

Marco stood in the doorway of his bedroom, still in his boxers, and looking very dishevelled.

"What're you doing here?" he yawned, stepping aside to let me in.

I came in and surveyed his room, which was a pigsty. He closed the door behind me. "You didn't come over last night... and I understand why," I said awkwardly, taking a seat on the edge of his unmade bed.

"And?"

"I'm just... confused, Marco. About why." I paused, distracted by his face. "Who gave you that black eye?"

He shrugged. "Fight. Don't worry about it."

I nodded and then thought of something. "We got home last night after ten. You went straight home. You didn't have time to get into a fight..."

"Just drop it, Ter. I'm tired. You should go." He ran a hand through his hair. "Please."

I eyed him. "You're hiding something," I said pointedly.

"Stop being so paranoid, Ter." He pulled the door open. "I'll see you later, OK?"

I stood up and strode past him. "Fine."

I headed for the Grimley Forest afterwards.

I needed to think.