Sometimes After

Chapter Sixteen - The Four Musketeers

[a/n]: thank you guys for sticking with this story so fa! i hope you enjoy this chapter, please vote + comment if you enjoyed! c:

Marlo slings an arm over me, waving to some of his friends as we walk through the halls. Homecoming's in two days—and I've basically been appointed Marlo's campaign manager. When he's off at football practice or whatever, he has me sticking posters up of his face, or telling people to vote for him and Amelia.

Why was I doing this?

I don't know. A part of me thinks that I'm doing this to punish myself, but another thinks that I can still get Marlo back. The old Marlo, the one me and Amelia and Vince were friends with, not the asshole that replaced him when we got to high school. Pipe dream? Maybe. Did I care? Not really.

After all the things he said, I realized that he was right. Maybe I did just try to stick to Vince because I wanted to make it up to him. Not that he remembers anything, anyway. Marlo says that he's probably lying, and that's why he's hanging out with Amelia all the time.

"Hey," I greet him.

"Martinez, how're the votes coming along?" he asks, looking around. Everyone's looking at him, gawking at him, as if I were transparent. That's for the best, I think.

I look down. "The dance isn't until Friday, Wilson. Besides, you still have to win the game to win."

"Have some faith in me," Marlo laughs. "I've got that game in the bag. We're against Harrisfield, and we all know their football ain't shit."

"Sure," I roll my eyes. "Let go of me. I'm gonna go eat lunch, and you're in the way."

To my surprise, he does just that. "Come on, let's ditch," he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me. "We'll go to Lola's. I know how you like those burgers."

"Didn't know you were my stalker," I look away, trying to fight the urge to go with him. My stomach growls, betraying me.

"Sounds like you're up for it," Marlo points out, snickering. "Come on. Besides, nobody'll care if you're missing for the rest of the day. People don't care about you."

"Wow. Thanks."

Marlo sighs exasperatedly. "You know what I mean. I thought you didn't care what people thought about you?"

"Whatever," I look away, spotting Amelia and Vince walking towards the parking lot.

"You've gotta get over him," Marlo's voice hardens, spotting who I'm looking at. "Do you like him?"

"Fuck off," I explode, surprising the few people milling around the hall. "Get off my back, asshole."

Marlo flips me the bird. "Your loss," he starts for the cafeteria. "Come over later, we gotta make more posters."

He saunters away, spotting some of his football goons along the way. Just like that, I'm forgotten.

I mentally slap myself. Man, this is why I hate having to define my sexuality. I don't really care if I'm bi or gay or whatever. I like who I like. That's it. Still, I sigh, leaning against some lockers. Maybe I'll just skip lunch. I'm just gonna go to my truck and nap.