Chapter 13: Mary.

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He understood? I doubt that. How could he possibly know what was going on. He couldn’t. Layla wouldn’t tell him. Even if he had realized she was a bitch and broken up with her he still wouldn’t know what she had said, what she had done, why I had say what I did.

I don’t know what story his stupid brain has fabricated but I’m sure it’s funny and idiotic.

It was seven. I grabbed my coat, but left his sweat shirt there, it was so embarrassing; I had it hanging out of my purse like a stalker, like a crazy person. Well, I am crazy but I was getting better! I swear I was! Then Layla and Branson came into my life. It’s not Branson’s fault, he can’t help that he’s the stupid, beautiful, boy who stole my heart. But Layla, she’s driving me more and more insane. Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’ll start walking and thinking and laughing and talking to myself aloud and when I look up I’ve walked all the way to the other side of town and people are glaring at me with concern.

But, yes, I was going. He said Layla wouldn’t be there so what’s the harm in one little dinner?

I’ll find out. Just you wait. Layla’s voice in my head mocked.

I ignored it and walked out the door. Well, I more like stumbled out the door. I had been drinking. There was no way I was going to get through this night sober. I got to the McDonalds in no time and when I saw Branson sitting at one of the tables looking positively beautiful I almost turned around. I had to be blunt, I had to be mean, or he’d want to meet again and that was too much. Layla would surely find out.

I walked in and sat down across the table from him, totally expressionless.

He smiled a wide smile, showing all of his teeth. “Mary, I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“If I didn’t then you just keep calling. What do you want?” All the words slurred together as I spoke.

He looked puzzled “Are you drunk?” He lowered his voice.

“Yes.” I answered quickly “Now tell me what you wanted to say so I can go home and get even more drunk.”

The hazy feeling in my head was nice.

“Mary, I don’t think it’s the best idea for a cra-,” He stopped himself.

“It’s okay. You can say it. Crazy girl.” I laughed, it sounded so funny out loud.

“I don’t think it’s the best idea for a crazy girl to get drunk and then go parading around down town.” His brow was furrowed and he looked truly concerned.

I looked at him for a long time before laughing out loud and pointing a finger at him “You look funny!”

People at nearby tables turned their heads to stare.

Branson smiled at them sheepishly “She’s okay.” He reassured them in a loud voice that hurt my ears, and then he spoke quieter to me “Are you okay?”

The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy. //+//A Complicated Love Story//+//Where stories live. Discover now