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Love Song Page 2
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And as Marceline waited for her to respond, the girl reached inside the breast pocket of her shirt, taking out a small piece of paper. Marceline watched as she unfolded it to present to her. She had left it folded over once, wanting Marceline to open it herself.
But Marceline simply stared at it, at a loss for what was happening. When did she even get over there?
“What is this?”
In lieu of an answer, the girl held the paper out further, waiting for Marceline to accept it. And with some reluctance, she did, eyeing the girl skeptically while doing so. Unfolding the paper, she tucked a swaying strand of her chestnut waves behind her ear as she looked down to view the page. On it, written in very neat hand writing, read,
“Thank you.”
Marceline stared, blinking blankly down at the lined paper that had been ripped from a notebook. Her brows shot up, and when she looked up to respond, the girl was already making her way down the jungle gym.
“Wh – Hey, wait!”
Almost startled by the swift and silent movements, Marceline hurried after her, jumping over the railing in a parkour manner and landing beside the girl. She spun around with a gasp, her hand raising to clench at her uniform’s shirt.
Marceline was smiling as she stood. She couldn’t help it. It was so damn cute.
Never in all her years of helping kids, did she ever receive a thank you on paper before, and while the person was right in front of her, no less. And what’s more, she hadn’t expected it. Hell, she never expected to see this girl again, let alone have her go out of her way to try and show her gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” Marceline replied with half a laugh. “So, you do speak English. Or at least write it.”
Unexpectedly, the girl laughed, nodding. Only not really. Her body language and smile suggested that she was laughing, but she remained, for the most part, silent. Marceline stared in somewhat of an awe. She half expected to get another glare for mentioning their shared language.
“So, you’re okay, then. No broken legs, I take it.”
The girl shook her head in response, tilting back and forth on the heels and balls of her feet to showcase the truth of her answer, her arms folding behind her back playfully. Marceline nodded, glancing down at her pale legs, only partially concealed by her black knee-high socks.
It was then that they both heard the sound of a group of people approaching the park. A group of girls. Marceline looked over nonchalantly while the girl’s head spun with alertness. It was the same group of girls that had picked on her the day before.
“Oh, hey. Aren’t those –“
Marceline trailed off when seeing the girl give what almost looked like a rushed bow before waving and running off to leave the park. All Marceline could do was hold out her hand and watch her run, she’d done it so fast. And after seeing her vanish from her line of sight, she couldn’t help but laugh.
Weird kid.
April 5th
Diary,
So I helped this kid girl out yesterday that was being bullied. She was at the park. I was there hiding from some jocks after helping some other kid at school. But anyway. I was at the park again cause the losers were trying to catch me again today, and she was there again. And she gave me a note LOL.
Yesterday she was kind of a brat when I helped her, but she gave me a thank you note today. I swear I’ve never seen anything so cute. Like, she could have just said it. But she gives me a note, haha.
It was weird. And then the girls that were bullying her showed up and she ran off. She must have problems with them often cause she took off pretty fast … She speaks English, though.
Anyway … amusing day. Yay weekend.
At the bottom of the diary entry, Marceline had carefully taped the letter in.
3
Walking along the sidewalk to the park the following Monday, Marceline kept an eye out. She’d been unable to stop thinking about that girl since Friday. And even more so during the school hours today. She’d thought about how she had run off on Friday. She really didn’t seem to want to be around when those girls showed up. And she couldn’t help but keep wondering if she went through that every day.
It bothered her. If not for the sole reason of someone being bullied, then for the fact that she knew it was happening and there was a chance for her to stop it. And that’s why she was on her way to the park.
And as Marceline got a little closer to the park’s perimeter, she heard her justification. The same familiar group of angry female voices. And even though the victim wasn’t making any noises in response, it was as if the silence in itself called out to her.
She suddenly found herself running, face crumpling in anger and anticipation. Her scuffed white Vans smacked hard against the concrete as she rounded the corner of the park. And sure enough, over by the swings was the familiar sight of violence, the girl balled up in a fetal position once again.
“Hey!” Marceline screamed, hand waving in the air. “Leave her alone!”
Not bothering to run all the way to the park’s entrance, Marceline leaped over the metal fence, almost tripping over herself in the process. She shouted at them again, picking up speed after stabilizing herself.
This time they heard and saw her coming, quickly gathering themselves and taking off to leave the park. Marceline continued to heckle at them until they were well on their way before skidding to a stop next to the hunched over girl. She huffed, leaning over her knees and resting her hands against them as she looked down at the cowering girl with a grimace.
“Hey,” she panted somewhat loudly, wanting the girl to look up. “Sorry I’m late. Are you alright?”
The girl’s head craned up, making Marceline wince. Her eyes were blood shot, and her face was scratched and dirtied. Tears streaked through the stains on her cheeks as she looked up to her savior with despair, her body slowly uncoiling from its protective position.
“Oh, man … Shit,” Marceline grimaced, squatting down to be level with the girl. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier.”
The girl watched as Marceline’s hands hovered worriedly over her face. But she wasn’t frightful like she was on Thursday. This was more … awe. She was surprised, to say the least, to see her at the park again – and saving her, no less. She hadn’t thought they would meet again. She thought maybe she had just gotten lucky to run into her on Friday. But there she was, whining over her face like a mother.
“Can you stand? Can you walk? Are your legs okay?” Marceline continued to pester.
Tears dripped onto the girl’s skirt. But these were not of sadness, or of pain. Never in her life had she had someone stick up for her, no less do so repeatedly for seeming no reason. But there Marceline was. Not once, but twice. And saying that she wished she had gotten there sooner. And though she knew nothing about her, she knew enough to trust that she wouldn’t hurt her.
Her face crumpled into a sob as she lunged forward into Marceline’s chest, gripping onto the fabric of her hoodie. Marceline flinched, her body tensing as she heard and felt the soft sobs against her. Her eyes wide, hands outstretched hesitantly.
It was the completely opposite of the first time she had helped her, and from Friday’s playful mood. Needless to say it caught her off guard. But as she began hiccupping and sniffling, Marceline instinctively wrapped her arms around the girl’s back, one hand patting soothingly against the long-sleeve, white button-up of her uniform.
“So what’s your name, anyway?” Marceline asked the girl as they walked down one of the many streets of the town.
After the girl had calmed down, Marceline had offered to walk her home after having felt bad about not getting to her sooner than she did. And now that they were walking, Marceline thought it wouldn’t be all that weird to actually have an introduction.
“Mine’s Marceline. A lot of people call me Marc, though.”
She looked up to her right at Marceline, brows arched in a curious manner, though it was Marceline who was curious. Marcelin
e’s brows soon mimicked hers as she grew impatient for a response.
“What? I don’t even get a name?” Marceline half pouted.
The girl smiled, looking away. She glanced up, thoughtful in her expression before raising her hand to her mouth and gesturing outwards. Marceline’s brows furrowed as she watched the game of charades.
“What? I thought you spoke English.”
The girl nodded, repeating the gesture with more emphasis. Marceline frowned.
“I don’t get it. I just want to know your name.”
More charades.
Giving up, Marceline decided to take a crack at it.
“Okay, fine. Uh … yawn? Yawning?”
She shook her head, repeating the gesture, this time with an open and closing mouth.
“Speaking? Singing?”
The girl stopped, pointing her index finger towards Marceline in excitement.
“Your name is singing?”
Marceline frowned at the thought. But then again, she was foreign. That could have been what her name translated into. But she shook her head, her hands gesturing for her to try again.
“Sing? Music? Song?”
She smiled, nodding enthusiastically.
“Song?”
Another nod, smile growing.
“Oh,” she said with some indifference. “I guess that’s better than Singing. Why couldn’t you just say that?”
Song shook her head, her hand gently tapping her collarbone to signal that she couldn’t.
“What? You can’t talk, or something?” Marceline frowned. “They named you Song and you can’t speak?”
This time Song frowned, offended. She had already realized the irony of her name. She didn’t need to be reminded. She pouted, looking away from Marceline, who immediately responded.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just saying … I like it, though. It’s a cool name.”
Song shrugged it off, rolling her eyes before dropping them to her feet. They were beginning to enter her neighborhood, and people were beginning to stare at the odd coupling. Song didn’t want to make any eye contact with anyone, so she decided to find interest in her shoes.
“Anyway …” Marceline glanced around the neat neighborhood, taking notice to the people that were looking their way. “Those girls back there … Do they bother you every day?”
Song hesitated, but nodded. She saw no point in lying. Marceline gave a slow nod of distaste, her maroon-glossed lips thinning into a hard line.
“You got any siblings that could like, walk you home or something?”
This time it was a shake of the head.
Marceline sighed, giving another slow nod. She swore under her breath. She couldn’t allow herself to let what was going on keep happening, knowing that she was able to do something about it. She groaned, scratching the back of her head and loosening her low ponytail.
“Welp. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Song looked up in question, unsure if she should follow or not. Had she just offered what she thought she had?
“I don’t really have a choice, do I? I’ll keep walking you home so they don’t mess with you, okay? Well – if you don’t mind, obviously.”
She looked to Song, waiting for a response of some kind, but instead just received a blank stare.
“What? Do you not want me to?”
Song immediately shook her head, her hand reaching out to grasp onto Marceline’s hoodie. Her big eyes grew larger as the threat of the offer being taken away. Marceline couldn’t help but smile at her expression. She was like a puppy. Marceline gave a nod of confirmation.
And thus the odd kindling of a friendship had begun.
April 9th
Diary,
I’ve got a new puppy, and her name is Song. LOL, no, I didn’t. But her name is song. That kind from Thursday? I’ve just agreed to walk her home. I know … Why? But the kid was getting beat up … You know how I am.
Anyway. Her name is Song and she can’t talk. LOL. I know. Anyway.
Jess tried to do a handstand today. Fell flat on her face. Priceless.
********
“Walking her home from school? What are you now, a babysitter? How old is this kid, and where are her parents? If she’s being bullied in school, they should do something about it,” Jess nagged as the group congregated at their usual table for lunch.
Todd gave a nod of agreement, obviously not very understanding of the update either, while Greg admired the responsibility Marceline had taken on.
“Yeah. How did this even happen?” Todd chimed in. “I thought you said she was a bitch you when you helped her.”
“Well, the first time she kinda was. But that was probably because she was just embarrassed. I don’t think anyone’s helped her before with being bullied. She like, cried on me, yesterday.”
“You went back to the park?” Greg asked.
“Yeah … Well, I had to go back on Friday because those jocks I threw rocks at tried to catch me again, so I couldn’t go straight home. And she was there again. She actually gave me a thank you note.”
“A note?”
“Yeah … she can’t talk. It’s weird. But yeah, but then the girls that were bullying her showed up and she left. I went back yesterday because I was kind of worried.”
“You’re such a saint, Marc,” Jess said with a roll of her eyes.
“Well I was right,” Marceline argued. “They were beating her up again. So, I walked her home. I felt bad that I didn’t get there sooner. Probably because I wasn’t running.”
“And now you’re just going to keep walking her home?” Todd asked with a scoff.
“I mean, it’s just until the girl’s start leaving her alone. Geez, guys. Have a heart.”
“You need a smaller one. You can’t save everyone,” Todd argued.
Marceline frowned. She couldn’t believe the negativity that she was hearing for such a good cause. It was like her and Greg were the only ones with any sense.
Well, whatever. She wasn’t going to just abandon this girl because they thought she was being a little goodie two-shoes. So what if she was? Having been there, and knowing she was capable of doing something about her bullying, she felt an obligation to her.
And that’s what she was going to do.
Besides, walking her home wasn’t all that bad.
4
“So, this kid,” Todd started to say to Marceline on their way to their shared math class. Marceline glanced up at Todd, who was almost a head taller. “You’re going to walk her home every day?”
Marceline gave a nod, centering her gaze once again as they approached the turn at the end of the hall. Todd’s lips flattened as he looked up, his hands pushing into his pockets.
“So, that’s just what you’re going to do every day now? You’re not going to like, hang out with us anymore?”
Marceline scoffed, looking up at him with an arched brow.
“Are you jealous? That’s hilarious.”
“Get over yourself. I’m asking because the school year is almost over.”
“Oh, right.” Marceline sighed looking forward again as they approached the end of the second hallway, now nearing the door to the class. “Well, I mean. It’s not going to take me forever to walk her home. She only lives maybe twenty-five minutes away from me.”
“Oh, okay. We should go to some amusement parks now that the weather is getting nicer.”
“That’d be sick. I’ve been dying to go to Disney World or something.”
“Calm down. No one has that kind of money.”
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
Todd rolled his eyes as they entered the classroom, standing by the doorway to allow Marceline to go in first.
“It’s not like you have the money either. Unless your mom got some sort of raise.”
“Hey. I have a job, you know,” Marceline complained, sitting in her assumed seat in the back by the window. “And don’t take shots at my mom.”
“I wasn’t. I was just saying. And walking dogs doesn’t exactly pay for Disney World”
“Well don’t just say it.”
“Sheesh. Touchy,” Todd snipped, sitting in his seat across from her to her right.
“No. Just – she works entirely too hard to be taking shit.”
“I know, I know. She been home yet?”
“Coming tomorrow, I think.”
“Don’t forget to do the dishes.”
“Paper and plastic all the way.”
“Hah,” Todd scoffed, taking out his notebook. “Figures.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Responsibility isn’t your thing.”
“I – What! Are you serious? Making sure I don’t make a mess, and taking some kid home from school? You’ve got to be shi –“
Marceline was cut off by the clicking of the teacher’s ruler against her desk. She was giving the two of them a stern look, shutting both of them up before beginning the class.
Song stood against the wall beside the double doors of the entrance to the school. She had her square black canvas backpack in her hands, which sat against her lap. Her eyes glanced nervously from left to right as fewer and fewer students exited the building. Occasionally, she would look up at the group of girls that seemed to be waiting for her to begin her walk home.
Her school had let out about fifteen minutes ago, and Song was still patiently waiting for Marceline’s arrival. She had instructed her to wait in the front of the building, and that’s what she was doing. But she was growing more anxious with each passing minute.
What if she didn’t show up? Could she just have been making fun of her? The grip on her backpack’s handle grew a little tighter as her eyes winced.
But just as she was about to give up hope and accept her fate, she heard the suddenly frantic voices coming from the group of girls. She looked up to see them scattering, and Marceline swiftly approaching.