Atelo [MXB] [BOOK 1] ✓

CHAPTER 30: DESERVED IT

[trigger warning for past physical & verbal abuse. probably should have put this sooner so I apologize for that]

Marley's not exaggerating when he says that every day in 1-A is the exact same. The routine would be enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity, it's honestly a wonder Nero isn't completely bats. Marley's getting there, that's for sure.

Actually, if Marley hadn't of met Nero's group (who have made Marley's life interesting in many ways) he'd be clinically insane at this point, without a doubt.

Lola has been walking with him lately, after their school time. He enjoys the company, to be completely honest, but it's sort of awkward when they part ways after they get to lunch and she goes to sit with her friends and Marley goes to sit with his. If they can even be called that.

Today, he'd much rather go sit with Lola and Nero and all them. He doesn't want to continue his friendship with Leilani at all. Not after the whole fiasco with the phone call, and he knows that's sort of harsh but he can't help but to feel weirdly uncomfortable around her now. Still, he wants to avoid suspicion between him and Nero, so he grabs some lunch and walks over to her table anyway.

It's the first time he will be sitting with her after that incident, since he got out of isolation yesterday, and as soon as she sees him she perks up.

Oh, god. Lunch needs to end.

She scoots over at the table, and Marley finds an empty chair right next to her. The only one.

He takes a deep breath and sits there, ignoring the way his body is shaking from the cold. Unless he's in 98° weather, he's gonna be cold, and although it's a bit warmer in here because of all the people he's still not satisfied.

"Hey Marley," she greets with a smile, leaning toward him. He smiles in response but doesn't answer verbally, instead grabbing his Italian dunker and taking a bite out of it. He firmly believes that if he stuffs his face with food then he can avoid all conversation.

"So, I was wondering, if you're cold all the time... wouldn't body heat help?"

Marley looks over at her, continuing to chew his food. Is she daft? What a dumb question. Did this chick really just ask him if body heat would help his lack of body heat? What the fuck? "Uh, yeah," Marley responds after he swallows. He's having a hard time not looking at her like she's stupid.

"I mean, so like, if someone were to share their body heat with you... you'd feel better?"

Marley's breath hitches, and he does his best not to appear alarmed. Wait, does she suspect something? Have Marley and Nero been found out?

No, no, there's no way she could know that. Of course not. Right?

"Uh..." Marley trails off, giving her a wary look, "maybe?"

She nods, "and you're cold right now?"

Where in the world is she going with this? "I mean, yeah. I don't have a heart."

Before Marley can do anything about it, she scoots her chair even closer to his and throws her arms around his torso, resting her chin on his shoulder. They're basically nose to nose now and Marley's eyes go impossibly wide. He feels like some sort of clueless owl. How could he have not seen her angle?

Marley can't even pretend to be okay with this. He immediately stiffens up, eyebrows raising as he looks at her like she's gone completely nuts. She's smiling at him and even Marley can tell it's forced. How does he always get himself in these situations? This has got to be the worst case scenario, honestly.

"Do you feel better?" She asks.

Absolutely not. Marley would rather freeze to death right here and now—he needs to escape this situation. ASAP.