#superstore marcus

“Here. I got you a glass of water,” he sat back down beside me.

I sat up in bed, slowly taking it as I took a few sips. “Thank you.”

He nodded, watching me as I drank. “Just tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

His eyes didn’t leave me as I took another long drink. I took a deep breath, set it back down on the nightstand. I looked up at him, hoping to penetrate the veneer of sympathy.

“I do,” I murmured.

I glanced at his lips, then back up at his eyes again. His brows furrowed, and he slowly leaned in. It took a moment for the conflicted expression to disappear before he leaned in. His faced stopped a few inches apart from mine as he looked me up and down. Impatient, I closed the distance, and I kissed him gently. He huffed into my mouth, desire in every breath as he grabbed onto the headboard, his body over mine. My demeanor seemed to erase any doubt that I didn’t want this. Why was this me?

I gently bit down on his bottom lip as we kissed. He cupped my cheek, pulling away for just a split second. He had to stop himself.

“You’re perfect,” he said.

My hand traced lightly down his back, then to grab his ass as he jolted forward. His pupils seemed to swallow the color in his eyes.

“My girl…”

His hands were underneath my shirt. I helped pull his shirt over his head, I wrapped my arms around him as we kissed. This hug was a prison. He pulled his boxers off, pawing at my shirt as it came off.

“No bra?”

I shook my head.

“Nice,” he grinned.

I giggled as we stripped our clothes off, and Marcus climbed back on top of me. He was gripping my hips, hard, like he was afraid I was going somewhere. I felt light touches between my legs. My fingernails dug into his back as he hissed a little, ecstatic at the touch. His strong hand was between my legs. His fingers stopped at my clit. I taught him that.

“Can I…?” he trailed off.

I posed a question in response.

“Can I cry?”

His expression softened, and his thumb brushed my cheek. “Of course you can.”

All of a sudden, I gasped as I felt him moving in almost harsh circular motions.

“Cry all you want,” he whispered an invitation, watching me intently.

I kissed him automatically. I knew it was gross, but it was what I wanted. It was the kind of sick, disgusting thing I could never do with anyone else. He kissed me with a strange sort of passion, the kind that didn’t have to be rough to be insane. I could feel his fingers moving frantically, until he stopped. I let out a soft breath as I felt him teasing, about to put one in.

“You want it?” he asked me.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can you say it?” Marcus asked. “Please?”

“I want it.”

I pulled him down on top of me in a sloppy kiss as he pushed a finger in.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted between kisses.

I felt him curl his fingers, searching for the right spot. He slowly pushed another one in.

“Fucking Sausage Fingers,” I teased him breathlessly.

He smiled as he kissed me back, my hands in his hair as he groaned quietly. Neither of us were ever fully serious. His fingers began to pick up the pace as I sighed, letting him hide in the crook of my neck as he slowly kissed down my neck. The kisses were light and warm, the cold air I felt in between each one chilling me. I stared up at him as he seemed to jackhammer enthusiastically.

“You wanna come for me?” he groaned.

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?” Marcus echoed. “You gonna come for me?”

His eyes were trained on me as he kept going.

“Come on…” he spoke in ragged breaths. “Come for me, please. Come on…!”

I laid my head back exhaustedly. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “Come on, just come for me. Right now, I wanna see it… Please.”

All of his attention was on me. I let out a shaky gasp as his fingers moved in and out.

“Jesus, you’re tight! Stop doing that,” he muttered. “Fuck. I can’t take it.”

He nipped at my neck as I grabbed onto his hair, only fueling his efforts.

He whispered in my ear. “Can you take more…?”

“Yeah,” I gasped.

He slid another finger in. “Fuck, you’re so tight, oh my God. You’re so wet, Jesus.”

“Don’t bring him into this.”

“I’ll bring him into this,” Marcus grinned stupidly as he thrusted his fingers in and out.

“Oh my God, you’re an idiot,” I gasped for air.

“Your idiot,” he offered, fingers moving at the highest possible speed. “You hear that?”

I groaned.

“Come on. Come for me. Please,” he leaned in as he cupped my cheek, giving me no escape. “I’m right here… I got you…”

I gasped softly.

“There you go… Come for me. Right here, right now…”

I felt it as I grabbed onto the sheets. He grabbed ahold of my hand, holding it tight.

“Hold onto me. I got you… I got you, baby,” he panted.

There it was. My breath hitched, and his eyes widened.

“There it is…” he sounded almost relieved.

“Marcus!”

He kept going, until I was all fucked out. It was tiring, in the best way.

“There it is… My favorite girl…” he moaned, affectionately kissing at my neck as he closed his eyes.

I felt his wet fingers tracing my lower stomach, holding me tightly still. He seemed to settle on top of me, burying his face in my neck.

“I love the smell of your hair… You’re incredible,” Marcus whispered as he moved to spoon me.

I wrapped his arms around me, closing my eyes. “Come here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised me, holding me tight as he pressed into my back, “I’m right here.”

*****

A week went by. I got up, almost like a routine, and I kissed Marcus before we both left my apartment, and I dropped Gigi off at school. After I got back in the car, I let out a long sigh. I drove and drove, and then I got out of the car, running inside. I felt my heart beating fast.

“Hi. I was here last week.”

“Yeah, I remember you, girl! How’s it going?” Aracely smiled at me.

“Can I see Snowball?” I asked immediately, still anxious and antsy. “I wanna adopt him.”

Her face fell. I didn’t understand. I couldn't take it.

“What?” I questioned. “What is it?”

“Girl, I’m so sorry,” she breathed, as if letting it all out at once. “I— We just found him a couple days ago. He didn’t make it.”

Now I knew what that face was for.

“No…” I realized, unable to stop my face from twisting.

“I’m so sorry,” she shook her head, in her own state of distress now. “He was just. He was too sick, and we didn’t treat it in time—”

“I’m sorry,” I said finally.

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m sorry—”

Everything she said to me started to sound like I was underwater. I couldn’t take this feeling, this feeling of “too little, too late”. I was a mother.

-

“Cheyenne, come on! We bought these tickets like three months ago and my parents won’t let me go alone!” you whine, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration as you lean against the lockers.

“I’m sorry (y/n), but Bo needs me right now! Who else is gonna hype him up before he gets on stage at Kenny Roper’s bar mitzvah?” she explains with a frown as her hand rests on her bulging stomach.

“Ugh okay, I guess I’ll just sneak out and hope my parents don’t notice,” you shrug.

After Cheyenne walked away, you shove a hand into your locker and feel around for your blue vest, tugging it out angrily.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” you hear a voice ask from behind you. You look to your side, then slightly up, where Marcus White stood next to you with his arms crossed across his broad chest, a concerned expression on his face.

“Oh, I was just supposed to see my favorite band tonight, Shattered Hearts. Chey and I were going together but she had to cancel,” you explain sourly.

“Oh man, I love Shattered Hearts!” Marcus exclaims with a dopey grin.

Truthfully, he'd never listened to the band before. But he wasn't going to miss out on his chance to spend an entire night alone with you.

After you both finished your shifts for the day, you parted ways. You had planned to meet at the small downtown venue once you got changed and ready for the night.

Later on, you gleefully rummaged through your closet, trying to pick out the perfect outfit. Shattered Hearts' lead singer, Tommy Valentine, would be front and center like always so of course you planned on wearing a Tommy-inspired outfit. Ripped white tights, short shorts and a low-cut top (covered by a long coat) and your favorite jewelry pieces to complete the look.

You went for a heavier makeup look than usual, as Shattered Hearts was in the pop-glam-rock vein. It couldn't hurt, making yourself look a bit older and hopefully catching Tommy's eye if you could get close enough to the stage.

"I'm going to the concert with my co-worker tonight so don't worry, I'll be safe!" you yell to your parents as you make your way out of the house and into the evening air.

Once you arrive at the venue, you see Marcus standing outside, leaning against the wall. He immediately brightens up and you don't miss the way his eyes rake over your body from top to bottom.

"Hey, (y/n)! You look... wow!" he laughs, a blush heating up his cheeks. He can't help but look your body up and down once more, taking in the way your white tights stretch over your thighs and your top hugs your body in just the right ways.

"Thanks, Marcus! Here's your ticket," you say, handing him the ticket that was supposed to be Cheyenne's.

"I'm really excited to hear Breathless," you sigh, walking up to the end of the line as Marcus follows.

"Uh, yeah, me too. I'm like— I'm just excited to hear their newest album," he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, I didn't tell you? This is the anniversary tour for the Rock Solid album, I don't think they'll be performing much of their new stuff," you frown.

Marcus is saved by the security personnel, approaching you both and patting you down as you entered the doorway and handed your tickets to the employee.

"Damn, this place is dark," Marcus laughs, looking around as you step in together.

"C'mon, I wanna get close to the front!" you exclaim, grabbing Marcus' hand and pulling him with you towards the stage.

He barely has time to process your hand on his as he follows you across the dirty, dim room.

"This is perfect, he'll definitely see me here," you say with a smile, looking up at the rusty light above you that illuminated your area. You leaned against the wooden pole next to you which supported the shabby balcony above.

Marcus raises an eyebrow. He? Who was he? Marcus was hoping to at least kiss you tonight, but were you already obsessed with some other guy?

"I'll go get us some drinks," he says, gesturing towards the bar.

"Oh, thanks! I'll keep our spot," you smile, looking down and adjusting your outfit to show off even more skin than it already was. Did you know what you were doing to Marcus? How his skin buzzed whenever you touched, how he imagined leaning down and kissing your lips? How desperately he wanted his hands all over you?

He fumed as he headed over to the bar, ordering some cheap beers and shots of vodka. Who was this asshole you were so obsessed with?

When Marcus returns, you knock back your shots together. Some men in black tee shirts bring equipment onto the stage as the sound of applause echoes through the room.

"So, uh, this guy you want to see you... did you invite someone else tonight?" he asks, trying not to sound like a jerk.

"No, I just think this is the best spot for Tommy Valentine to see me. He's single, just broke up with Maxine McDonald. Did you know the band's guitarist met his girlfriend because she was a fan at one of his shows?" you say excitedly, watching the stage.

Of course. The jerk you were obsessed with was the band's lead singer. Marcus couldn't help but roll his eyes, thankful that you were turned away from him.

"C'mon, drink up. I'll go grab us some more," Marcus says, playfully tilting your beer up in the direction of your mouth. He would need to be a lot drunker if he was gonna watch you lust over some punk poser all night.

By the time Shattered Hearts came onstage, you and Marcus had already finished several drinks. Marcus felt fine, but you already felt woozy, tipsy, almost falling over a few times. Marcus caught you of course, and you leaned on his body as to not embarrass yourself further.

Marcus went to grab another beer for himself, and when he returned, you were clinging onto the wooden pole.

"This one's my favorite," you mumble as Marcus cracks open his fourth beer.

"Yeah? Is it?" he asks, an amused expression on his face.

You nod dumbly and Marcus wraps his warm arm around your waist, the drinks emboldening him.

He looks down at you, your beautiful face illuminated by the dim lighting. He just couldn't help himself anymore. Marcus leans down, pressing his lips to yours and deepening the kiss into a make-out session as your brain catches up and you start to realize what's happening.

His tongue pushes into your mouth, silencing your protests as he traces his warm hands over your shirt. You almost think you're having a bad dream until you hear someone nearby say, "eww!"

It's only as his hands move into your shorts that you're able to push him off of you. He recoils, staring at you with a pissed-off expression.

"Wh-what was that, Marcus?" you exclaim, putting your hands out in front of you to keep him at a distance.

"I thought we—"

"I told you, I'm interested in Tommy!"

"He's way too old for you," Marcus hisses.

"So are you!" you huff, crossing your arms.

"I'll go get us more drinks," he sighs, realizing you've both sobered up a bit.

When he returns, you're miraculously still there, eyes fixed on Tommy.

Marcus keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the concert, suffering more and more as each song thrums and passes. The band wasn't even that good and Tommy Valentine was just some forty-something, washed-up guitarist with eyeliner.

After the concert, Marcus heads to the exit but is surprised that your small hand manages to pull him back.

"We're staying. Tommy usually comes out afterwards if he sees someone he likes. And I definitely seduced him with my eyes. Will you get us a round of shots for when he comes out?" you ask, waving Marcus away as you watch the curtains for any sign of movement.

Twenty minutes pass, the venue almost cleared out and heavy with the stink of sweat. Your shots sit untouched as you slump down in your seat.

"You wanna go outside?" Marcus asks tenatively.

You shake your head like a petulant toddler.

"You... wanna finish these off?" he asks, gesturing to the shots.

You nod, sitting upright and taking all three shots consecutively. It had sunk in now that Tommy didn't see anything special in you, hadn't been wowed by your sexy outfit or your eyes or how you knew every word to every song.

Almost immediately, you slump sideways against Marcus and he rests his arm against you comfortingly.

"Let's get some fresh air," he sighs, leading you outside where you lean against the brick wall, fighting the urge to pass out.

"You look amazing tonight. It's Tommy's loss," Marcus says, hand stroking your arm.

You look up at him, tears in your eyes, mouth framed in a pout to either keep the tears from falling or the vomit from escaping.

Marcus sighs, leaning down and bridging the gap between you. You return the kiss in your own sloppy, half-conscious way. One of his hands plunges into your shorts as the other makes it's way up underneath your shirt.

You're mumbling, moaning, making some sort of noise with your mouth but his mouth covering yours muffles it.

Marcus can't wait any longer, mouth drifting down your neck and chest, sucking and leaving marks of his affections.

"N-n—stop—" you mumble, hands awkwardly trying to pull him closer or push him away, you weren't fully sure.

"Fuck," Marcus mumbles against your chest, causing a gasp to rise up your throat. His fingers trace your hole, spreading around your wetness as you let out a whimper.

"God, I wanna fuck you so badly," he groans, grabbing your waist and sucking on a new spot of skin.

"M-marcus— I-I should go huh—home—" you mumble.

He pulls away and examines his work with a big, dopey smile. You were so messed up, clothing rumpled, hair undone, love bites all over your neck and chest.

He turns you and leads you to a reflective window, and you gasp at the look of yourself. So many hickeys that your coat couldn't even cover. You looked... like a slut.

"I—I can't go home like this! My parents will kill me!" you whimper.

"You can come to my place, my mom'll love you," Marcus offers.

"Uh— no, that's—“

"I'm not letting you walk somewhere alone. Come with me and we can take the bus to work tomorrow," Marcus suggests, raising his eyebrow.

"Ugh, fine," you sigh, leaning against Marcus as he walks the two of you to his mom's house.

You try your best to ignore Marcus' childish, messy room and dirty sheets as you undress and climb in next to him, still feeling drunk and used up.

You hold back a shriek as he pulls you into his chest, body flush against him. "This is nice, huh? My perfect toy," he laughs, kissing your bare shoulder. You shudder at his touches and objectification of you.

"Marcus, stop," you sigh, and his grasp loosens, but not forever. You know he'd be pulling you close in the middle of the night and you had half a mind to sleep on the dirty floor.

The next morning, you borrow one of Mrs. White's long-sleeved shirts for work but it still doesn't cover everything. You walk into Cloud 9 beside Marcus, embarrassed and red-faced.

Marcus throws an arm around you, and when you get to the break-room, he pulls you into his lap as all of your co-workers stare.

"Pretty epic, huh? Got 'em all to myself," Marcus grins, placing a big hand on your thigh and rubbing it creepily.

"Uh, (y/n), your neck—" Cheyenne stutters, eyes wide at the confusing scene before her.

"Yeah, it was all me. We had a pretty crazy night last night. You were all over me, begging for it, huh?" Marcus brags, leaning back and bumping fists with Isaac as he passes by the two of you.

Garrett McNeill was getting more tired of Jonah’s childish dilemmas by the day. The day before, Jonah had made the mistake of trying to ask out Sophie, one of the new hires at Cloud 9, which ended tragically for him. Not only had Jonah inadvertently harassed a coworker, but he had also accidentally asked a single, working mother of a five year-old if she had a ‘wild side’. Needless to say, Jonah felt humiliated and apologetic. This, of course, seemed to work out for everyone except for Garrett.

“Dude, I get that you like her, but I’m gonna be honest, man… I don’t think she likes you!” Garrett pointed out to Jonah, “And not even in the kindergarten like-like way, I mean I don’t even know if she considers values you as a human being after what you said to her yesterday!”

Jonah’s face falls with regret, “I know. What I said yesterday was… Horrible. A total lapse in judgment. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not even thinking about trying to get her number anymore, I just… Wish there was a way I could at least apologize to her. You know?”

Garrett looks down at his lap, actually feeling sorry for Jonah, and understanding his perspective.

“I don’t know, man,” Garrett provides, “She might just not wanna talk to you anymore after that, and you can’t blame her.”

Jonah nods, listening as he understands Garrett’s point.

“Just… I don’t know. If you get the chance to apologize to her, just leave it at that, you know? No pick-up lines, no asking her out. Something tells me an apology gets cheapened for a woman if it’s followed up by male gross-ness.”

Jonah nods understandingly. “Yeah, I just… hope I didn’t offend her.”

Garrett scoffs at the idea. “Dude. It’s Sophie. I play video games with her sometimes. You could’ve called her a slur, and she’d be fine.”

Jonah makes a concerned face, “Okay, well… I don’t think I wanna do that…”

Garrett just sits there, looking in front of him at Sophie working the cash register. He feels sorry for his friend, but starts to regret his involvement as soon as he hears a light bulb go off in Jonah’s head.

“Wait. If you and Sophie are such good friends… Can you help me out? Please?” Jonah begs.

Garrett just sighs, muttering to himself as he rolls his chair back to the customer service desk. “This is what I get for getting involved…”

*****

Later that Thursday, just as I was about to leave the register and clock out, I look up as I hear Garrett’s voice over the loudspeaker, with a weird lack of enthusiasm, even for him.

“Sophie Phuong to customer service… Sophie Phuong to customer service…”

I stop in confusion, not sure why Garrett would have needed me. I just shrug it off, abandoning my workstation as I head towards customer service at the front. Sure enough, as expected, sitting at the desk with an odd look on his face is Garrett. But standing by the customer service desk is Jonah, with a sad look on his face like a kicked puppy. I took a deep breath as soon as I saw him, bracing myself for one long conversation.

“Jonah…” I begin awkwardly.

But before I can continue, he cuts me off. Shocker.

“Sophie,” Jonah greets me, smiling hopefully, “Hey…”

I cross my arms expectantly, waiting for him to embarrass himself yet again. I knew at this point that Jonah was a pretty nice guy who just happened to be very awkward, but still, I needed him to at least give me something to work with here.

“I’m, uh…” Jonah fidgeted uncomfortably, “I’m really sorry, Sophie, about—”

Garrett and I both watching curiously.

I just stared, “About…?”

Jonah just looked at me guiltily, knowing he fucked up. “…Everything?”

I raised an eyebrow at his uncertainty.

“Everything. Yeah. Every single thing I have said to you, in the past twenty-four hours, has been… awful,” he apologized wholeheartedly, “Yesterday, I was rude, and… gross, and icky, and… I wish I could take back all the things I said to you,” he sighed.

Garrett looked to me for my input, wondering how I would react to this. I gave Garrett a ‘it’s whatever’ kind of shrug, not really having too big of a reaction to any of this. At this point, all of this was pretty pointless to me, and therefore required none of my energy at this point.

“Jonah…” I begin uncomfortably, “It’s fine. Really. You didn’t offend me, it’s not a big deal at all… Let’s just move past it. Okay?”

Jonah seemed ecstatic at this, thrilled that he was no longer in the doghouse.

“Oh! Uh, wow! Yeah! Great,” he laughed, still processing the entire thing. “Thank you! I’m… glad I didn’t ruin your day…”

I just give him a polite smile. “It’s cool. We’re good.”

An intimately touched smile spreads across my face, as he seemed way too happy about this.

“Thank you, Sophie,” he told me kindly, “That’s… really sweet of you,” he said softly.

I just nod, awkwardly glancing back and forth between him and Garrett.

“So… am I dismissed?”

Jonah looks around awkwardly as Garrett just offers me an indifferent smile, empathizing with me.

“Uh, yeah,” Jonah said quickly, “Yeah of course, I don’t mean to… keep you…”

I give them both a tiny smile and wave as I disappear, heading back to the break room for my stuff.

*****

After work, I headed out to the parking lot of the store, waiting for Ryan to drop Gigi off. He got here around 5:45, which I was pissed about, having had to wait an entire forty-five minutes for him to finally show up. I immediately ran to Ryan’s car the second I saw him pull up, feeling extremely impatient. Of course, I didn’t notice Jonah and Garrett coming out of the store.

“Ryan!” I practically shouted at my baby daddy.

He looked over at me nonchalantly, showing up in his stupid beanie and hoodie, not seeming to be aware of the fact that that I had a reason to be angry at him, let alone the fact that I was angry.

“Hey, Soph!” he greets me casually.

I scowl at him, doing my best to keep my composure in front of Gigi, who runs over to me in excitement. I bend down to look at her first, dealing with her before Ryan.

“Hey, baby, do you wanna wait in the car while I talk to Daddy?”

Gigi nods, fine with that idea. “Okay.”

I watched her as she ran off to my car, making sure everything was okay. I looked back, seeing Garrett sitting in his wheelchair by the front of the store, looking at me as Jonah awkwardly stood by him. He gave me a questioning thumbs-up, trying to gauge whether or not I was okay, given my impending spat with Ryan. I just gave him a thumbs-up, seeing him nod as I went back to being pissed at Ryan the second she’s out of earshot.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I hiss at him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he exclaims defensively.

I scoff in disbelief. “‘What did you do’?! You forced me to wait a half a fucking hour, when you promised me you’d be here at 5, when I actually got off!”

He gave me an extremely annoying groan, not bothered by the reality of how he had inconvenienced me, again. What I didn’t notice, however, was that we were being watched by both my coworkers, and some of the customers in the parking lot.

“Dude, calm down, it’s not that big of a fucking deal!” he yelled at me.

“It’s not a ‘big deal’?!” I cried. “I’ve been waiting here for you for a half an hour!”

Garrett and Jonah wait by the front of the store, not necessarily wanting to be there.

“Alright,” Garrett sighs, watching the argument break out as he starts to wheel himself toward his car. “I’m out—”

Jonah automatically tries to stop him. “Wait, shouldn’t we just make sure she’s okay?”

Garrett sighs as he stops. “It’s okay, man, it’s just Ryan.”

Jonah looks over at him curiously. “You know her ex?”

Garrett nods. “Yeah, he’s a cool guy. He’s not a dick, this isn’t some ‘battered wife’ situation, alright? They’re just arguing. Stay out of it. You can get off your high horse, and take off your shining armor. Sophie’ll be just fine.”

“But, what if this is the one time she’s not fine?” Jonah questions.

Garrett just sighs, knowing he can’t win this one as he just gives in, keeping his chair parked as he watches his friend argue with her baby daddy.

“How the fuck is that my fault?!” he demanded, waving his arms lazily, “You could’ve gone home!”

I nearly scream at him, in complete awe of how both stupid and inconsiderate he can be at times.

“You’re right, asshole, I could’ve gone home,” I agreed furiously, “And maybe gone back to school and gotten my bachelor’s degree in the amount of fucking time I’ve been waiting in this fucking parking lot for you, but no, I had to wait here, because you kept saying you’d be here soon!”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking dramatic!” Ryan Pollina yelled, “You always get pissed at me over the littlest fucking things! I’m just a little late! I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not a little late, first of all,” I shouted, “Five minutes is a little late. Ten minutes is a little late. Fifteen minutes is acceptably late. You, sir, are almost an hour late! And you do this all the time! You tell me one time, you lie and make me wait, and then you show up an hour fucking late!”

Jonah looks at Garrett, seeming worried as Garrett still just shakes his head at the whole situation.

“This is getting a little heated…” Jonah observed.

“Not ‘heated’,” Garrett replied, “Just ghetto. Can’t you just let them work it out?”

Jonah doesn’t listen, remaining vigilant as he keeps his eye on Ryan.

“Oh, sorry, I just wanted to spend time with my fucking daughter!” Ryan spat at me.

I laugh, trying my best not to smack him upside the head. “You think I’m mad because you wanted to keep Gigi for an extra hour?! You’re her father! I don’t care if you wanna spend time with her, just don’t make me wait up if you’re not gonna show up! If you had texted me an hour ago saying you were gonna bring her at 6, or whatever, I would’ve been fine with that! But, no! You kept telling me, for that past forty minutes, that you were ‘on your way’, when I could’ve just waited for your ass at home!”

“Fuck you!” he shot back.

Jonah looks back at Garrett, growing increasingly concerned. “Should we do something?”

Garrett looks up at him incredulously. “What is there to do? They’re just bickering.”

Jonah looks back at the pair uncomfortably. “It seems like more than just arguing…”

“Oh, ‘fuck me’?!” I exclaimed at Ryan. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You come late and leave me waiting all the time, and it’s fuck me?!”

“Yeah! Fuck you!” he pointed at me angrily, “You’re always picking apart every single thing I fucking do!”

“Because you’re constantly fucking doing insane shit!” I gasp. “Like, why the fuck do you lie, and tell me you’re on the way, for an hour instead of just letting me fucking go home?!”

“I don’t understand why this is such a big problem!” he complained. “This was just one time—”

“No!” I laugh, “You’re not listening! It wasn’t one fucking time, Ryan, it’s all the time! It’s a pattern, it’s the principle of the thing, dude!” I reasoned.

“Fuck you, Sophie, I’m not listening to this shit!”

“I don’t like this…” Jonah grimaced.

“Dude, you never fucking listen to anything I say!” I reminded him.

“Because you’re always fucking bitching at me about this or that!” he argued.

I scoffed angrily. “‘Bitching’?! You think me expecting some fucking common decency from you is bitching?!”

“Yeah!” he nodded. “You’re constantly fucking bitching at me, about everything!”

Jonah stared. “I think I’m gonna say something…”

Garrett just shook his head, knowing nothing good could come of this. But before Jonah could even figure out what exactly his plan was, he was thrown off by someone else running out behind him. Jonah and I were both surprised to find Marcus running out to my defense. At first, I was somewhat touched by the gesture, until I saw him say fuck it and punch Ryan in the face.

“Oh, fuck!” Garrett slowly turns to Jonah, who’s still in shock. “You were saying?”

Jonah just shakes his head, grimacing. He wanted no part in that.

“Shit!” I exclaimed.

I heard Garrett yell. “Damn!”

“Oh, my God…” Jonah murmured, running over in shock.

Jonah just stood there, in complete shock as Garrett rolled up next to him, watching the aftermath. Ryan struggled to stand up, his nose bloody and possibly broken, but before he could catch his breath, Marcus started absolutely whaling on him as I just watched, unable to do anything about any of it. Ryan tried hitting him back, but it wasn’t looking good. Garrett quickly rolled back, wanting to get as far away from the situation as possible.

“Guys!” Jonah yelled, not really sure how to break up the fight, being far too polite about it, “Guys…!”

“Marcus!” I yelled, panicking as more and more bystanders gathered around, “Marcus! Stop it! Fuck!”

I watched, mortified, as Marcus eventually got off of Ryan, a stupid grin on his face as he walked up to me, while someone checked on Ryan. Marcus walked over to me, seemingly weirdly proud of himself for what he’d done.

“Oh, shit,” Jonah breathed, traumatized as he and Garrett stood around.

“Marcus!” I exclaimed, a distressed expression on my face.

“It’s okay,” he promised me, hands running up my arms, “I got you, babe.”

Before I could stop him, Marcus leaned in to kiss me, seeming overjoyed as he wrapped his arms around me. In my perplexed state, I accepted the kiss for about a single second before I pulled away, not knowing how to deal with this.

“Oh, shit,” Jonah stared at us, before I groaned with embarrassment.

I gave Marcus a dissatisfied look. He just stood there, expectantly, raising his eyebrows excitedly as he waited for another kiss.

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