Chapter Text
As Marcus climbed into his bed for the night, he tried to keep his thoughts from returning to Ginny. Instead he stared up at his ceiling and tried to plan out his day tomorrow. He knew that getting out of the house would be the only way to avoid to hearing Max quite literally sing her own praises for the next several days. Usually Marcus would be happier to celebrate his sister’s accomplishments, but he didn’t even want to look at her after she rushed to tell their mom about him and Ginny.
Ginny. Just like that she was at the forefront of his mind again.
Marcus rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow. “FUCK,” the muffled shout coming out strained, his distress evident.
She had been threatening to take up all his mental faculties since he talked to her briefly earlier in the day. He knew then that something was wrong, that something about her reassurances rang hollow, but he’d let her brush him off. Marcus had been regretting it since.
The image of Ginny’s face in tears right before she fled the Wellsbury High hallway kept flashing through his mind. Marcus was still reeling from that altercation and knew he’d only felt a fraction of the pain that he could see on her face in that moment. Despite the way his more callous comments had made it seem, Marcus had enough experience with emotion to know that hurt of that magnitude doesn’t go away overnight. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t truly forgiven. He desperately needed to talk to Ginny again. He needed to make sure she knew he’d meant it when he told her he loved her.
All afternoon he’d found himself pacing towards his window like a compulsion, checking for any sign of Ginny across the street. She’d told him she was going to City Hall for the announcing of the election results, but he’d expected her to come home early. Ginny didn’t usually like playing happy family with Georgia and Paul, and he’d been hoping that would give him the perfect opportunity for another visit through Ginny’s window. Night had fallen hours ago and yet there was no activity at the Miller house. As the evening wore on anticipation became anxiety and Marcus couldn’t find a reason for the dread in his stomach that told him something dark was on the horizon.
The sound of a car door slamming shut drifted through the open window, and Marcus shot up in bed, eyes trained on the house across the street.