Maren had never been the one to be extra sentimental.
At least, that's what everyone else saw. On the outside, Maren put up a thick shield that hid her insecurities and emotions and layered them with the tough, badass label that most first impression-ers labeled her as. She wore very tomboyish clothes and cut her hair down to short, thick bristles after one time her ponytail became more of a distraction than anything else. Most people at school whispered and gossiped to each other, as they normally do, but some had given her compliments on it. John told her he loved it, and knowing John, every comment he made would be absolutely genuine. Sam even passed by and muttered a small string of words that sounded like "looks good on you." Many would say Sam and Maren had been a whirlwind thing and every time Maren spotted Sam in the hallways, a force would press on her heart bluntly and yet she also felt the need to tell him to man up. Sam was an immovable force when it came to his friends and powering through any difficult time but he immediately crumbled at the first sign of a heartbreak. It broke Maren as well, though she desperately tried to hide it. They both agreed wholeheartedly that they were better off as friends.
Maren brought her motorcycle to a halt, upending some of the gravel in the school parking lot. Unlike most people who asked for a car or a computer on their sixteenth birthday, Maren, of course, asked for a motorcycle. Maren's family wasn't particularly extra rich, but they were definitely not poor so her parents agreed and bought her a shiny black motorcycle with top speeds of 180mph. Some of Maren's friends would always ask to take it on joyrides, though many opted out after they realized they couldn't figure out how to keep their balance. Maren pulled out the sturdy kickstand with her toe and let it rest in her usual parking spot. She pulled off her helmet and relished in the way her hair didn't stick to the top and yank upwards. Slipping her phone out of her bag, she checked the time and cursed.
"Shit." Maren scanned the school courtyard and sighed as she found it empty. She took a brisk stride through the empty school halls towards her first classroom wondering how she was going to manage to come up with an excuse this time. Seeing as nothing could make the situation worse, she stopped quickly in the girl's' bathroom to take a quick piss. When she opened the door however, she saw one of the bathroom sinks on the end were taken up by Marina.
Marina was a sweet girl whom Maren had occasionally spoke to in class and at lunch. Sadly, something deep had changed within her when her boyfriend Naveen moved away. Maren vaguely knew Marina had tried to keep in contact with him and they were pen pals for a short period of time but one day he stopped returning his letters. Marina, growing concerned, did everything in her power to contact his parents and his friends to ask what had happened to him. She never got an answer until a couple weeks later, both of Naveen's parents arrived at Marina's door in person and tearfully spilled the news that Eight had gone missing. It was all very dramatic and hardly seemed real, but the following days melted into weeks which in turn easily slipped into months until it had been a little over a year and Marina was never the same. Most of her friends didn't know how to react and Maren watched from afar as Marina slowly fell into an icy loneliness where the people around her didn't know how to react.
That was almost a year ago. The Marina that stood with desperation in her dark brown eyes seemed stronger and further along the healing process than the last time Maren had seen her. However, there was still the slight trembling in her fingers and the tensed shoulders from the pain of grief. She glanced up barely as Maren pushed open the creaking door. They made eye contact, and Maren held her ground as she did when people attempted to stare her down, but Marina was different than most others. She showed no signs of looking away, and Maren curiously observed Marina's irises, which had darkened from the translucent, easy-going hazel color to a deeper, chocolate brown in just the past year. Realizing what she was doing and cursing at herself silently, Maren dared to break eye contact first.
Clearing her throat, Maren suddenly felt a wave of self consciousness wash over her. Now her body felt awkward and out of proportion compared to Marina's slim and dainty form, and Maren's rough, short bristles were too boyish compared to Marina's long, soft waves. Maren adjusted the strap on her shoulder and stood shuffling her feet slightly.
"You don't have to pretend. I can leave if you'd like," Marina said.
"No, no, of course you don't have to leave. I just ah..." Maren hesitated. "I don't really want to go to class."
Marina caught the look on Maren's face and giggled softly. The sound brought a small smile to Maren's face. "Well, you're welcome to join me anytime. I don't want to go to class either." To Maren's surprise, she slid down the wall of the bathroom and settled down on the floor with her knees drawn up casually to her chest. Maren internally breathed a sigh of relief and moved over to join her.
"What class do you have now?" Maren asked.
"Calculus," Marina replied.
"Yikes, no wonder."
"What about you?"
"Me? I have art."
Marina sputtered. "Why would you not want to go to art?"
"Ugh. Because I'm shit, that's why." Maren made a fake retching noise and Marina giggled again.
"No one is shit at art. Everyone has their strengths."
"Yeah? Someone stole all mine." Marina rolled her eyes and ran her fingers though her hair. Maren watched as it fell from her fingers like silk.
"I wish I would've come here more often now that I know I can ditch class in a school bathroom with a girl I just met," Marina teased.
"Maren. It's Maren," Maren responded way too enthusiastically. Marina smiled warmly.
"I know."
"But... wait, how?"
"John won't shut up about you," Marina answered.
"Ah, of course it's him. What a socialite."
Marina shrugged. "So far, you live up to all the hype."
"What has he been saying about me?" Maren braced for the answer, waiting for the exact moment where she will want to desperately strangle the blonde boy.
"Nothing like that, he is just determined that there's a softer side to you. One you don't usually open up to show many people and yet here you are."
Maren grew pink faced. "Yeah, I'm going to kill that son of a-"
Marina laughed this time whole heartedly, and it echoed around the high ceilinged bathroom. The raven haired girl bit her lip but eventually gave in and started to chuckle as well. It sent the both of them into loud, uncontrollable hysterics until they sat up, teary eyed and holding their aching stomachs. Maren wiped the wetness from her eyes and Marina sniffed and leaned semi-consciously into Maren's arm. Maren froze, her heart abruptly beating ten times a second. Her face turned even more pink than it did before and Maren tried to breathe to get rid of the pins and needles in her legs and fingers.
"Where have you been all my life?" Marina questioned absent mindedly.
"Right here, as far as I know." The comment caused Marina to sit up and Maren frowned at the loss of contact. Maren was immediately aware of how close Marina was to her face. A slight nudge and the two of them would be bumping noses. Maren held her breath and Marina blinked.
Before the either of them could move, an ear-splitting chime sounded through the mostly empty bathroom, signaling the end of first period. Maren almost growled at the bell for interrupting. She steadily got to her feet and turned to help Marina up. The skin tingled on Maren's hand where Marina made contact with her fingers.
"See- uh- see you later," Maren said uncoordinatedly.
Marina gave her a sad smile. "Yeah, see you later." She glanced down, where their hands were still intertwined. She moved to pull away but in that one moment Maren felt an invincible urge. Maren pulled on Marina's fingers gently and swiftly pulled her in for a hasty but soft kiss. When they broke apart, Maren could stand a split second of eye contact with Marina's now wide eyes before she moved past her quickly and slipped into the sea of students piling into the hallways. Maren drew a shaky breath and squeezed the strap of her bag until her knuckles went white. Thinking she should have done it differently. Maybe not so hastily so they could have drawn it out. Only when Maren arrived at her last period of the day did she open her bag to find a small slip of paper with ten numbers written in smooth, curvy handwriting slipped into the outside pocket of her bag.