Chapter Text
Everyone wants something, and that’s the universal truth. Humans work on desire and motivation, forever in pursuit of something they crave.
According to the survey Marella had conducted in high school for an extra credit project, a hundred percent of the 5 respondents she surveyed agreed that desire will always be part of their lives, whether in academics or romantic relationships (but don’t quote her on that).
And if there’s one thing Marella had always wanted, it was for her crush of three years–Linh Song–to finally notice her. Alas, the universe seemed set on ignoring the potential of Maralinh (yes, she came up with that ship name herself), instead letting Sophie Foster of all people laugh in her face about her embarrassing lack of progress during their scheduled bi-weekly brunch.
Of course, it didn’t help that Sophie was her best friend and had recently gotten together with her boyfriend-turned-fiancee, preventing Marella from staying truly mad. In fact, it was sort of ironically humorous how Sophie got engaged to Keefe after years of dating and sappy looks, yet Marella was still at square one.
No, square negative hundred. Although, negative hundred squared was equal to negative ten thousand, or a hundred thousand, she honestly couldn’t remember. Which was so much worse.
She had said as much to Sophie, and fine, maybe Sophie wasn’t laughing at her because of her horrible courting skills, but because of that.
Back to the point, Marella likes Linh, Linh is oblivious, Sophie is laughing her ass off, and the universe absolutely condemns the mere idea of Marella having a love life.
“That’s not how math works,” Marella rolls her eyes as Sophie cracks into laughter and hiccups all over again, because of course she did, “in fact, you’re not even on the board, because you haven’t done a single thing to so-call ‘court’ her.”
Once again, Marella chooses to ignore Sophie and the fact that she has a Masters in sociology and probably knows more about how to deal with this than she does.
“First of all, I’m respecting her boundaries. Men,” her little full-body shudder makes Sophie snort, “on the other hand, have no concept of personal space and there Linh probably already has five hundred guys asking her out a week. She doesn’t need another person following her around after classes just to get her number.”
Sophie nods solemnly. Or maybe she’s still drunk from last night’s trip to the bar with Keefe to celebrate their engagement (took him nine whole years for that man to ask, seriously, what is wrong with men these days?).
“Well, at least there’s your graduation coming up in half a year. Didn’t you say you were looking forward to that?”
Marella sighs at the thought. Yes, she had been excited about it. Emphasis on “had”. She had worked for five gruelling years for that one day of pure elation. She was so looking forward to that day. Well, until Professor Forkle announced a final four-month project that would account for forty percent of her final grade. Which meant that she could still pass even if she disregarded it–she hated group projects solely because she was always the one doing all the work–but her score would be less than ideal. A disappointment, a stain on her score sheet, for the otherwise straight A student. And Marella was going to maintain it, even if it meant sitting through long hours of team meetings where half the members were texting on their phones and the other half was not-so-discreetly playing games on Poki.
“But I just hate group projects,” Marella groans, slumping on the table. “They’re so much work, when we could instead sit for an examination and stress for a few hours.”
Sophie snorts again, “You are one of the only people I know that would prefer sitting in an examination hall for hours rather than have a flexible schedule where you can just relax and go with the flow.”
Marella headbutts the table, getting a nosefull of the cheap, rose-scented cleaning soap that Sophie often uses. She grimaced, raising her head up again to meet the amused expression of Sophie.
“I should just quit and take something easier. Sociology? I could follow in your footsteps,” Marella huffed out a breath.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Sophie frowns at Marella’s bad posture, then sighs and decides to ignore it. “You love biochemistry. You have literally wanted to be a forensics scientist since you were in diapers.”
“Maybe the suffering isn’t worth the dream,” Marella lamented but she was smiling faintly. Sophie was right, obviously. It was her dream job, and a darn project she hated wouldn’t stop her. Even if she had started having fantasies about pouring poison into Forkle’s coffee, or smashing his face in brutally with one of those heavy equipment they used in the lab, or…you get the idea.
Marella would love, even kill, to get a chance to fulfill her dream of being a forensic scientist. Preferably without serving time in prison.
In fact, the project wouldn’t even be that bad, right? Worst comes to worst, she does all the work, and she gets an A like she always does. Perhaps she might lose a bit of her sanity, perhaps she might feel like giving up on life, but those were all just a means to an end, and it wasn’t such a big deal. Right?
***
Wrong. She must’ve jinxed herself, or kicked a stray puppy in her previous life, because all Marella could do was stare at her laptop while gripping her mouse that was threatening to crack (probably because Marella was squeezing it so hard, but yeah, let’s blame it on the quality) and curse every single decision she made that led her here. Shit.
“In your emails, you’ll find that I’ve sent you all the groupings for your final project.” Shit. “Please meet up with your group members and submit a topic for your project.” Shit. “I’ll be evaluating them by this week and giving my comments.” Shit. “I will not be accepting any late submissions.” Shit. “This is important for me to ensure your project isn’t a load of crap before you actually start researching.” Did Marella mention: Shit.
Marella’s laptop was too bright, shining into her eyes, it kind of hurt. Or was it just because she hasn’t blinked in more than a minute? Most likely the latter, but for Marella’s dignity she’ll convince herself it’s the former.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected]
Subject: Group Two, Final-Year Project
Members of group two:
Marella Redek
Linh Song
Wylie Endal
Dexter Dizznee
Sent from my iPhone
Marella was in the same group as Linh freaking Song. What kind of cliche forced proximity romance book was she living in?
She was so, so wrong. Now she had to recalculate the worst-case scenario. She didn’t even want to think about it. What if she panics during their meetings and she blunders so badly that Linh doesn’t want her on her team. Or she makes a mistake in her part of the paper and they all fail miserably and Linh blames her? No, worst of all, what if she’s so distracted she doesn’t get the A grade she was hoping for?
Whoever said that “a life lived in love will never be dull” was right, but in the worst possible way. She never should have fallen in love with Linh in the first place. Or as Sophie calls it “infatuation”.
She was so distressed she barely heard Forkle dismiss the class, barely saw Wylie, Dex, and Linh discussing in the corner of the room, and therefore when Marella looked up, forehead finally leaving the table, she thought she was going to have a break-down all over again.
Linh was walking towards her. Yes, her. “I must be dead already,” she whispered to herself.
Linh was mesmerizing. It was the only word Marella could find to describe the beauty in front of her. Her jet black hair seemed to absorb all the light around her, and yet the silver-dyed tips fought back rebelliously, shining and reflecting the light with every step she took. Her eyes were sparkling blue, like a vast ocean Marella would willingly drown in any day.
“Well, you’re no use to any of us dead.” Someone was talking to her. The voice was familiar, but Marella couldn’t place her finger on where she’d heard it before. Until she finally tore her gaze away from Linh–who was so close, too close, she was standing in front of her table–forced herself to look at the man standing right next to Linh.
She’d seen him with Linh before. His name was Wylie Endal, and he was Linh’s best friend. Well, supposed best friend, since Marella was almost certain there was something between them. The meaningful, shared looks and subtle glances in class give it away. Marella should hate Wylie, after all, he was the only thing in the way of Marella getting together with Linh (other than herself, of course).
When she finally processed his words, a few minutes too late, she felt her entire face turning red. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that aloud. I swear, I’m not actually a brain-eating zombie who wants to find her missing corpse-”
Wylie and Linh, and even Dex, burst into laughter. Marella was confused, stunned, and generally had no words coming out of her mouth.
“Relax, it was just a joke. You look pretty dead, and tired. You okay?” Wylie smiled. “I’m Wylie, this blondie over here is Dex (‘Amazing introduction,’ Dex grumbled), and this girl over here is Linh.”
Marella rubbed her eyes and immediately sat up straighter. She should heed Sophie’s advice once in a while, her back was really starting to hurt. “Just a bit tired. The consequences of university, am I right?” She smiled a little, though it slightly hurt her cheeks. Wylie laughed, as did the other two.
She scanned Wylie from head to toe. He was a nice guy, she’ll admit. What she won’t admit though, is that he actually wasn’t the despicable monster she thought he was, stealing her ‘girlfriend’ and everything. Well, not her girlfriend, and that was his fault too. Sort of (it wasn’t).
“Anyways, I’m Marella, nice to meet you.”
Dex grinned. “We all know who you are. I’m surprised you even felt the need to introduce yourself.”
Marella glanced from Dex’s amused expression, to Wylie’s incredulous look. Don’t look at her, don’t look at her. Marella glanced towards Linh. Her expression was… actually, Marella had no clue. She was too busy panicking.
Shit, did they find out she stole the ink cartridge from the library printer? Or the time she fell flat on her face in the alleyway? Or maybe they found out about her blasting Taylor Swift in her room at full volume. She knew it, her neighbours had complained about her horrid music taste, because they were anti-Swifties (boring) and were out to publicly humiliate her.
Her whole life is ruined. She slams her head against her desk, but when she hears a few gasps from above her, she remembers she’s not alone.
“What do you know? Don’t report me to the police, please,” she mumbled into the table.
“Why would we report you to the police? You being Forkle’s star student?” This time it was a female voice. It was cool and silken, and so very attractive. Marella had heard it a thousand times before, the very same voice playing through her head every single day before she went to bed. Creepy, but at least her thoughts were private.
She looked up at Linh. Linh was talking to her. And she was smiling. She was dazzling. So much so that the moment she registered Linh’s words, she was still staring at her.
“Star student?”
Linh smiled brighter. Holy shit, Marella would willingly go blind from the shine, as long as it was Linh. “Obvioiusly. You always get the top grades, and Forkle literally loves bragging about you to the other professors.”
Marella was dead. Yep, completely dead and floating in heaven. That was the only explanation for Linh complimenting her. But then again, why were Dex and Wylie here in her dreams? Yeah, this must be real life. But the compliment-
“Hello? Earth to Marella?” Marella must’ve slammed her head against the table again in the span of her crash out, because she had to look up to see Wylie’s initial amusement turn into genuine worry.
“Yeah, sorry,” she sighed, “Just, life, you know?” But this time, neither of them were smiling. Shit, she messed up.
“Well,” she said, in an awful attempt to change the subject, “I’m free on every day this week except Wednesday to meet up. What about you guys?”
She got a raised brow from Linh–damn she looked hot even doing that–but otherwise the three got the cue and started discussing the first team meet.
“I can do any day too, except Tuesday. I have a robotics competition.” Yeah, Marella had always pegged Dex as the type to tinker with electronics. She likes to think that her gut instinct of people was always right (it was not, the first time she and Sophie met, Marella thought Sophie seemed like a serial killer).
Dex turned to Wylie, a question forming on his lips. “What about you, Wylie?”
“Linh has got extra swim practice and I’m the stage crew for the theatre club, so we can only make it on Thursday and Friday.”
Wylie had said “we”, like it was normal for them to know each other’s schedule. Like they were a thing. And it made something churn in Marella’s gut. Jealousy? Nah, it was probably the burrito she ate for lunch. At least, she hoped.
Something Marella would never admit to anyone, not even to herself, was that she had a habit of lying. Not to others–though she would if it was necessary–but to herself. It was safer to not know the truth, and instead live in a world that she could accept.
But that was a story for another time, when Marella’s stomach wasn’t threatening to release its contents right in front of Linh.
“Friday, then?” Marella was the one speaking now, much to her own surprise. Perhaps she needed something to do with her mouth so her stomach wouldn’t feel like exploding. “We can discuss what topics we can submit to Professor Forkle and finalise the project outline.”
Wylie nodded, “Yeah, that works. I still can’t believe he’s letting us choose our own theme. It’s like writing our thesis all over again except this time we have to present it in a group.”
Linh and Dex laughed, and some comments about how projects were easier were thrown around. All Marella could do was put on a smile and try to stop her eyes from getting stuck on the way Linh’s lips would twitch more on the right side than the left when she chuckled, or how her silver tips would always reach around her middle back.
Before she knew what was happening, Wylie, Linh, and Dex were saying their goodbyes, and were headed off to their next class. She played along too, trying to hide her panic when she realised she had not heard a single word they were saying, including the meeting details. Wylie and Linh started walking towards the exit. Like the perfect couple, she grumbled internally, but she shook away that thought. No, she didn’t know that was true, and she wasn’t going to start hating on an amazing person like Wylie. Jealous, yes. Detest, no.
She turned to Dex, who had already made a trip to grab his bag and back. Which reminds her, she should probably get going. The classroom was already nearly empty, most students not even bothering to discuss a date with their teammates. At least I got a team that isn’t full of slackers this time, she thought to herself as she walked out of the room.
***
“Ugh, I need a therapist." It seemed Marella was getting into the habit of slamming her head into the table. She was sure her mom had sent her an article on that before, something about killing brain cells. That would explain how Marella had messed up so terribly.
Yes, Marella was on the verge of a mental breakdown. And no, she had never had panic attacks, she was not going to start having them now. But she was going to repeatedly connect her forehead to the surface of the desk.
It was Friday, two-thirty in the morning (don’t ask why she wasn’t asleep), and the screen of her laptop was flashing mercilessly onto her face. Her eyes were starting to hurt, the second time in a week already. She should get her laptop checked (or maybe she should stop staring at the screen in the pitch black darkness).
Her browser tab was open, a half-written email staring challengingly at her. It was addressed to Dex, because he was the member in her group she was least scared of. And the one she was most willing to embarrass herself in front of.
Dexter Dizznee had majored in Chemistry back when they were still studying for their Bachelor’s, and fortunately or unfortunately for her, he was sitting right next to her. He was her first friend, mostly because she was too nervous to even speak to anyone on the first day. But Dex was different. He was funny, insightful, and generally was a great friend to Marella. Like all friends did though, they grew apart. But not before Dex learnt a million different things about Marella, and vice versa. They knew each other’s most embarrassing childhood experiences, their high school drama, and Marella even knew what toothpaste his youngest brother liked.
Subject: i think i’m high
Hey Dex,
This is Marella. I was wondering if you could share the date and time of the meeting for later today. Mostly because I’m a distracted fool who’s probably in love who has no idea where we’re supposed to go. A library? Your house? A serial killer’s basement? Let me know ASAP, thanks.
Marella stared at the email for a long time, before sighing and backspacing nearly the entire thing. Was it just her, or did she just type out the words “serial killer”?
Subject: First Team Meeting
Hey Dex,
This is Marella. I was wondering if you could share the location and time of the meeting for later today. Sorry, I totally forgot it. Thank you so much.
From,
Marella
She rubbed her eyes, double checking, and then triple checking. When she finally determined that there were no more mistakes, or mentions or serial killers, in her email, she sent it. Then she slammed her laptop harder than was necessary and stood up, navigating her way recklessly to her bed. The moment her body hit the soft mattress that she bought from Target (which had been such a steal), she was out like a light.
Curse whichever god that made her sleep through not one, but three whole alarms. Her digital clock read out 14:23, which she at first read as 04:23. Which is why she rolled over in her bed, preparing to go back to sleep. What stopped her, however, was her phone screen staring imploringly at her from the nightstand. A notification about an email she had received in her inbox, and she realised Dex had finally replied to her late-night email.
And like the responsible teammate she was, she opened the email, her eyes still blurry from sleep.
Subject: Re: First Team Meeting
Hey Marella,
The meeting is at 3pm, at the campus library. I hope this helps. :) Cheers.
Regards,
Dex
Which is why she found herself brushing her teeth while freezing cold water enveloped her. She would have let the water heat up first, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and there was approximately only twenty minutes left for her to finish her shower, throw on a respectable outfit, and try to make it to the campus, which was approximately fifteen minutes away.
It took Marella five whole minutes to attempt to locate the study room her team was in. It didn’t help that she had walked in on two guys in one of the rooms doing, ehm, things. “Locking the door is free, by the way,” she shouted as she frantically slammed the door.
She was late. Three minutes late, in fact, which was unacceptable for Marella. At least, for the Marella of one week ago. Now she was just a distracted and unpunctual mess, and to make things worse, she was sweating like a chicken that had been doused in water. So much for that shower.
Linh, on the other hand, was stunning. Marella had seen her do it a dozen times, and yet every time she would bite on the tip of her pen and glance at the clock, she couldn’t help but feel entranced. Usually, she only did it when Forkle was late. However, this time it was because of her, and Marella felt just a little bit of guilt (a lot of guilt) for making Linh wait even a second for her.
“Hey, you’re here.” Wylie’s voice drew Marella’s attention, and she thanked the gods for the rescue. She had been on the verge of too many mental breakdowns for a week. She must be getting old.
Marella smiled, half to calm herself down, half to avoid having to reply to Wylie. She made her way to the only empty seat in the room, which she soon realised was a huge mistake. Those royal blue eyes were looking directly at her, and she could feel someone else’s knee graze hers under the too-small discussion table.
Shit, why was she sitting across from Linh? And why was Linh staring at her like a puzzle she needed to solve?