“Okay.” I actually felt bad leaving her, but I quickly walked away before she could change her mind and drag me back.
Sarah had been right. The front of the store was a mess. A group of cheerleaders had made their way through the store, trashing each area where they browsed. Sarah and Kayla were frantically trying to ring them all up at the registers. I began working on the jeans wall. It looked like a mountain of distressed denim. There were piles of jeans just left on the floor in front of the wall. Were people that lazy? Ugh!
My feet were surrounded by a pile of Capri jeans when I heard a girl’s voice hovering near the store entrance.
“Come on, babe, I love this store.” she whined.
“But babe, I wanna go to the video game store.” Even though he was trying to plead his case, his tone still sounded defeated.
“Just five minutes, okay? For me?” I heard the soft sounds of a kiss.
“Okay, but only for you,” he said, and as he did the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
I knew what I was thinking wasn’t possible, but I slowly turned around. As they walked into the store, hand in hand, his eyes caught mine.
His name choked in my throat as I said it. “Marc?”
Chapter Nineteen
“Marissa? Wow, I mean, hey.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously.
I wanted to hug him and punch him at the same time. Marc was standing before me. Marc! It was like seeing his ghost or something. His hair had grown long and looked like a sandy brown mop on his head, and his wavy bangs grazed his eyelashes. He was wearing a faded Van Halen shirt, vintage 1984. The T-shirt hung loose on his body, and he looked thinner. He had always been thin — the kid couldn’t put on weight to save his life — but now he was even thinner, like he didn’t eat often. I watched him squeeze the hand of the girl next to him. My eyes shifted from him to her. She looked similar in age to Marc, early twenties. Twenty-two or twenty-three. Her copper hair had soft beachy waves to it that cascaded like water down to her waist. Heat was coming out of her bright blue eyes as she looked at me. She appeared to be sizing me up, wondering who I was, and how I knew Marc, and why I looked like I’d seen a ghost.
“You two know each other?” There was an edge to her voice, like she was wondering if I was a psycho ex-girlfriend.
Unable to speak, I remained still and stared at Marc. I couldn’t believe he was standing just five feet in front of me. Where had he been for the past year? Why hadn’t he called me? Had he found out about Gram somehow? Had he been to visit the grave? Was he living locally? Could he feel the pain that was rushing through my body at that moment?
“Ginny, this is Marissa… my sister,” Marc said. I watched the flush cover his cheeks.
She blinked rapidly. “Your sister?” From the raise of an octave in her voice, I knew she was unaware Marc had a sister. “You told me you were an only child.”
“You what?” I snapped. The desire to punch him was overwhelming. Instead, I crossed the space between us and shoved him in his chest. “You told her you had no sister? How could you? Why would you say that? What’s wrong with you? Where have you been?” With each question I shoved him until we were in the hallway in front of the store. I had managed to fight back the tears that stung at my eyes, only by the rage that filled me.
“Marissa, stop!” he shouted at me while grabbing my arms before I shoved him again. “Just stop!”
Then I heard Taylor’s voice behind me. “Marissa, what’s wrong?” Marc dropped my arms, and Taylor stood in front of me. “Are you all right?”
I wasn’t looking at her. My eyes remained on Marc, who kept his gaze on the floor.
“I have to get out of here,” I spat out. Then I walked back inside the store, grabbed my purse, and started walking out.
“Marissa, I need to know what’s wrong,” Taylor said as I huffed past her.
“Family emergency,” I called over my shoulder. Marc and Ginny were still standing in front of the store as I exited it.
“Marissa, wait!” he called after me. And I heard his voice calling my name growing more and more distant as I raced to my car.
****
My feet dragged as I walked into my house. Without looking, I flung my bookbag onto the kitchen table. The house was silent. Of course it was silent. All that remained here were the memories of the people that used to live here together — my mom, Marc, and me. As I looked to the corner of the living room, my thoughts flashed back to Christmas the year before we found out Mom was sick.
****
We all huddled in front of the tree. Marc and I rapidly tore open our gifts. A pair of black suede ankle boots was my big gift that year. While I walked down the hallway, I ran my hand along the patch in the wall. It was from when Marc and I tried to sneak a dog into the house. We had found it as a stray, and as we were carrying it down the hall to Marc’s bedroom, we heard my mom come in the front door. I screamed, the dog barked, and when Marc dropped the dog, his elbow smashed into the wall. His bony elbow chipped through some of the paint, and his punishment was patching it up. He did a terrible job.
****
My arms crossed over my chest as I stood in the doorway to Marc’s room. Everything was just how it
