Abbey and Marcus: A High School Non-Love Story

About a pair of teens who won't admit to love.

Abbey & Marcus

A High School Non- Love Story

 

Marcus looked around at the kids from his school and sighed. The school was like so many others. A main building and several smaller ones; this school was done in adobe and stone. It was painted a pale cream color, sidewalks of stone and dirt, dons of doors that lead into the smaller buildings and classrooms. Little to no landscaping. Of course, its not like the landscaping wasn't difficult to keep up here in Arizona, but still there could be some cactus flowers or something that could survive in the heat. They hadn't even tried.

His one and only friend was Abbey Scott, was late, as always. Very late.

Marcus Scott, no relation, was shorter than Abbey by five inches, putting him at 5 foot 5 inches. Marcus' hair was curly and blonde, eyes were violet. His clothing was all black, black and white. Usually white socks, though mostly black. Some white shirts. He hated that she was taller. He was the man, shouldn't he be taller?

They got along well together, probably because they were both outcasts, except that Abbey got more calls to fix their neighbors computers more than the local Geek Squad. He was an outcast because he was a true Goth, at least, that's what he was called. What did that mean? Hell if he knew, but he knew hat he wore the dark clothes and even wore the black make-up. From time to time.  Did that mean he was a Goth, not really, but it did to his family and the other kids at school? Although the Goth clique wanted nothing to do with him. Hell even though he was a writer, the poetry clique didn't like him either; neither did the other writing cliques.

He looked up again and finally saw her coming. Even though he didn't like her like her, seeing her still took his breath away. While Abbey was the best tech geek in the school, if not the country. He didn't hold it against her, but she was also a girlie-girl, and could be a total hottie. Abbey chose not to be so that she could concentrate on her techie stuff and not boys. She seemed to think that by denying her true potential, denying the part of her that wanted to come out; that she could hold off the boys and her own emotions.

Today she was wearing a daring black V-neck t-shirt, a short pleated black skirt, fishnet stockings in purple, and black combat boots. Her hair was in a low ponytail and her pale complexion shown like polished alabaster in the Arizona sun.

She or someone like her was his dream girl, if he had one. If anyone actually read his stories, they would think he was in love with her. He used her as the base of all is female lead characters. He had rescued her likeness over and over again, even though he couldn't rescue himself.

Abbey was about 5-foot-10-inches tall. Her hair was long and jet balck. It curled just at the ends. She wore a variety of clothing; the colors ranging from shades of dark blue to black. There were a few lighter shades, but a very few. Abbey had once told Marcus that she'd wanted to streak her hair with hot pink and purple, but that it was just too punk-ish for her, so she decided not to. Abbey had grey-ish blue eyes that were made bigger due to her glasses. She didn't need the glasses; they were more for reading, but Abbey liked the way looked on her. Her features went well together. The angles worked well with her and for her. Abbey had once been fat and worked hard to maintain a healthy weight. She had gone to a low sugar diet. A light exercise program and she was good. She'd tried to make him follow the diet, but he just had to have his sugar.

Marcus sighed again and smiled, waiting for her to reach him at their spot. It was a small grassy section of the quad, one of the few in the area. She looked at him and the smile on her face slipped half an inch. What did she see on his face that made her smile falter? Or had something happen to her on her way here?

"Hey, Abs. How's it going?" Marcus asked.

"I'm fine. Was up late working on the Spanish project and I had work for the Mayor as well. He keeps sending me the same crap over and over again. Stupid man. Can't believe that man is our Mayor," Abbey said. She looked at him again. Today he had on a black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black Nike shoes on.

Marcus looked at her again. "Are you sure that's the only thing that's wrong?"

She blinked and looked away from him. "What else could be wrong?"

He shrugged. Something was up, he just didn't know what it was.

"Marcus, did something happen to you last night? You were supposed to come over and help with the project. Was it your dad? Mom?" His face tightened. "That's a yes. Are you all right?"

"Fine.  After they were done 'talking' to me, I stayed out of their way. Stayed in my room with the door locked, writing, all night long. Haven't even been to bed yet."

"Jesus. You could have come over to my place. You know my parents are always gone, so it wouldn't have been a problem."

Quietly, Marcus said, "It's not like they would have cared anyway."

“Too true. It wouldn't, though; it has given me time to build up some money. Hopefully to get us out of this place." He stared at her. "What?"

"You are planning to leave?"

She nodded. "I'm going to take you with me. I know I'm the only friend you have, and I know that I couldn't leave you here without me. I'm the only one who cares about you and you need someone to help you. Someone to look after you."

"What?"

"Marcus, you're family 'talks' to you too much. It isn't healthy."

"Can't argue with that."

"You're my friend and I love you enough to help. I want to help."

Marcus blushed and she smiled. He was so cute when he blushed. "Now, moving on. What did you write about?"

She sat down beside him and took out her lunch. Carefully she split it up so that he could have something to eat as well. Not for the first time Marcus wondered why she took care of him so well. Did she feel something more for him? "So tell me, what did you write about? Anything especially good?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe. You know I don't share."

"You do with me." S**t. She was right, that meant she knew that she was the basis for all of his heroines. Some of his villains too. S**t and double s**t. "Here you go. Made your favorite."

He took the sandwich, taking a bite. What was he going to do? Was he really in love with her? Triple s**t. He didn't want to f**k things up with her. Marcus didn't want to lose her as a friend if a relationship ended badly between them. He couldn't live without her. Didn't want to live with out her. He loved her as a friend, he knew that, but did he lover as more than a friend? Did she love him as more than a friend?

"So?" she asked, breaking his train of thought.

"So what?" he asked.

"Your writing."

She looked at him intently and he wanted to squirm underneath her gaze. He didn't, but he wanted to. "What about it?"

"Don't be coy, Marcus, its not you. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, nothing. My writing? Yes, well, I created a world last night. It felt real and evil. Would like I could go there, I want to go there."

Abbey looked at him, more worried than before. What she wouldn't tell him is that she felt the pull too and she wouldn't tell him why. Couldn't tell him why. The place was real enough, so was the one thing that was making him want to go there. Before he could say anything about the look on her face, the bell rang. She jumped. Usually did because it was loud and extremely shrill. "Time for class. See you later, Marcus."

She tossed a wave over her shoulder and smiled faintly. One day, and one day soon she would have to tell him what was bothering her. When that day came, she just might lose him forever and she wasn't she could do that. Wasn't sure she could handle that.

* * *

Later that night, Abbey looked at her computer and sighed. She would have to hack into his computer, the ultimate invasion of privacy. She hated to do it, but she had to be sure. She was super smart and super not cool.

Abbey sighed again ad turned on the computer. He would never know she was there, would never know how many other times she had hacked into his computer. Abbey had to keep an eye on him and make sure he was safe. It was her duty. Marcus kept his journal on his computer as well as all of his stories and cartoons. He had drew all of the character for his stories, scanned them into the computer, and then fine-tuned them. Made them look even better than before. They lost that obviously hand-drawn look, yet still had that quality.

Slowly she sifted through until she found the story. Earlier in the day, after lunch he had told her the story's title. It was simple: Brave New World: The Battle Begins. She understood the title, but she could not tell him that she knew. Abbey hated having to play dumb. It wasn't the best look on her.

Abbey knew that Marcus cared for her. She knew that she was the model for all of his female heroines, and a few of the villains. The latter was probably after a fight they'd had or something.  He would only share the stories with her after they were finished. After he had fine-tuned every last bit of the story. From the way the characters spoke and acted to the descriptions of the worlds so real you thought you could visit them. Some places were dark, some places were light.

Slowly, she skimmed the story and gasped. This time he had done something different. He had used real names of people they went to school with. He used real life descriptions for everyone, not just her. Or just himself. This was not good. If he kept this up, he would make this world real. This world would cease to exist until the hero completed the task he needed to or until a great truth was revealed, as it related to the story. Everyone but the two of them would take over their parts in the. They would have their alter-egos' powers and the like, but the would know it was a fake world. A created world, an alternate reality, for want of a better term.

The rest of the world would just be who they were written to be. This would not end well. She had a feeling he would be writing more tonight. She had a feeling that the one person in this story who could ruin everything would, and then even she, Abbey Scott, would cease to exist.

S**t. This can't happen, but it would.

* * *

Marcus flipped on his computer and sighed. Abbey had been acting so weird today and he didn't know why. He heard the front door slam and flipped the computer off. Quickly, to avoid whomever it was seeing that he was writing; he even left the semi-safety of his room to take whatever punishment would be dished out.

"Marcus Scott, get your f****t a*s down here right this minute!" his father bellowed. His father thought him to be gay because of the make-up, the lack of nudie pictures on his walls, the lack of nudie magazines anywhere in room Plus the fact that Abbey was his best friend, female, and that he wasn't 'tapping that.' His father's phrase.

Marcus sighed and headed downstairs. It was best to get it over with as soon as possible. It is always best to get a beating over with as soon as possible, that way you healed quicker. Plus it was easier to hide the beatings, usually if you got it over with, the beating was less severe. It took Marcus time to figure that out, but he learned quickly and early enough. Though he did have days where he just didn't give a s**t and let his father, mother, and various other family members seek him out. He would just say to hell with it and took the severe beatings.

"Yes, father?" he asked. Marcus tried to make his voice as careful and as bland as he could. Marcus knew that he had failed miserably when a look of death flitted across his father's face. He cursed silently and waited for his father to call him before him.

"Get the rest of the way down here you freak," his father replied. This may not end well. If it did, he would retreat into the world he'd created for himself. That world made him into a hero and not a total zero.

He moved closer to his father and braced himself for the attack he knew was about to come.

* * *

Abbey woke with a start and looked around. Things looked different and at first she was very disorientated, it lasted for several minutes and it hit her.

Oh, Marcus, she thought, what did you do?

Slowly, she got out of bed and looked around her room. It was the same, yet different. What had given her the idea that something was different? A feeling? She couldn't see out her bedroom window, at least, not anything that would give her the impression that things were so very, very wrong.

Abbey reached for her phone and dialed his number. It rang a couple times before he answered the phone. At least that hadn't changed, so far. "Yes?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Marcus?" she asked. What had he been doing that he ended up breathless?

"Hey, Abs. What time is it?"

"No clue. What happened last night?" He didn't say anything. "Marcus, what happened last night? You didn't call to let me know if you were coming over."

Still nothing. She was starting to panic. "Marcus? Marcus, are you still there?"

"Yeah, Abbey, I'm still here. Something just went wrong with my story."

Abbey stared at her phone. What has that got to do with anything? Her stomach started to knot. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Look out the window and tell me what looks different to you."

Abbey looked at the phone again and moved towards the window. The houses were the same. All were varying shades of adobe and cream. Same colors as the school, same lack of imagination in landscaping. None. It was like the founding fathers had gotten together and set the color scheme for theirs and future generations. As she scanned the neighborhood one more time, she saw the castle.

"There is a castle in the distance. What is going on?" Abbey had a feeling as to what was going on and it wasn't good. She prayed to God that it wasn't what she knew it was. The knot in her stomach got worse.

"Yes there is a castle in the distance. I can only hazard a guess as to what is going on."

Abbey sat and thought for a minute. Again she had to play dumb. Damn it. "What do you think is going on?" she asked, finally.

"Meet me at the park and we'll talk about it in person. I think it'd be best to talk in person," he said.

"Oh? How come?" Silently, Is there something you aren't telling?

Marcus was silent for several minutes before replying, "I think that it would best if we talked about it in person. Easier to come up with a way to fix things." He paused. "Maybe I just need to see you in person and make sure you're okay?"

"Do you?" she asked.

"Do I what?"

"Need to see me in person to make sure I'm okay."

"Yes." Then he hung up and she stared at the phone.

Well that was rude, Abbey thought as she hung up the phone and got dressed. She decided on wearing her lighter colors until she knew what was kosher and what wasn't.

* * *

Marcus looked around carefully as he walked to the park that was exactly the same distance from his place to Abbey's place.  He was reasonably sure that they'd left at the same time. Everything seem to be normal, but the way his mother and father were acting this morning when he woke, made him believe that things had changed. They were behaving as if this was one of his stories and he was some hero. A somebody. Hanging on his bedroom walls were plaques and commendations from the King and Queen. Dozens of them.

Even his body felt different. He didn't feel fat and when he looked in the mirror he had noticed that his fat had gone away, that his face was thinner, that he could move and not hurt. He wasn't a conventional fat person, where he had rolls upon rolls, but enough extra body fat that it was noticeable and got him labeled fat in school and around the neighborhood.

Marcus was so lost in thought that he didn't notice that he was already at the park and halfway past it. He looked up, startled, as he nearly collided with Abbey. She looked like normal, except for her clothing. She was wearing a light colored scoop neck tank, a pair of faded jeans, and a pair of tennis shoes.

"Are you okay?" Abbey asked.

"Yeah. This is a little odd, I can't believe this is happening," he replied.

"What exactly is happening?" Abbey looked at him and waited patiently for him to explain. "On the phone you mentioned your story and the castle. That was it."

She'd hoped that would get him talking. It did. Sort of. "Give me a minute to figure out a way to explain it. I'm not sure where to start."

"The beginning?"

He glared at her and finally shrugged. "I guess that is a good place to start. You know I writ, that I am almost always writing. You know how my home life is and it has gotten better and worse."

"Right. Your father is a spineless prick. Your mother and siblings aren't much better. You tend to retreat into your writing; it's your way to escape a really s****y world."