Welcome to Milagro, everyone. I havn't yet decided if I am going to finish
posting this at FanficNet (this was written to satisfy my friend's), or
just let you guys read the first 'installment' and leave you hanging. Your
reviews will decided this, so review mucho!
For all those who wish to know, Marshall is based on my sorta-kinda-wish-he- were-my-boyfriend, but don't worry I'm not a stalker! Actually the real Marshall is almost totally opposite from this one, so you don't have to worry about putting me in therapy or anything. Ahem, where was I? Oh yes. The Maggie character is based on the fanfic writer 'izzabelle', whose story Verdraegan is also here on Fanfic net. Read it! I am in it (Katie) and so is Marshall. Last names have been attempted to be changed on this story, so if an occasional funky word pops up, blame it on me. Mostly everyone in this story is based on real people, and lets just hope that most of them never read it.
And, without furthur ado, MILAGRO:
Part 1
It was a lowly autumn evening, with the leaves just beginning to change their colors. Everyone around seemed so happy, so excited with the upcoming seasonal changes. All except you. You had nothing to be excited about, and you knew this trend would probably carry on into the upcoming months. But, that was before Marshall Ward walked into your life...
You sat outside your local high school, your book bag bursting with homework, homework you wouldn't get around to do until later the evening. Perhaps you wouldn't look at it all, and just wait for tomorrow morning and do it while everyone else was talking during homeroom. You weren't really sure about what mood you were in, and frankly you didn't care. Life was going all downhill for you, and there seemed nothing for you to look forward to. You got up from the bench with a resigned sigh and started walking home. Before you could walk 50 feet, you felt someone bump into you, and you hit the ground with a thud.
You looked up. "Hey, why don't you watch out where your-"
You stopped. There before you, his eyes dark with concern, was the cutest guy you had ever laid eyes on. His embarrassment only added to his obvious charm, and he reached for your hand.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that," he said. He gave you an impish grin as he helped you to your feet. His touch sent electric sparks throughout your body, and, as he bent over to gather your scattered books, you noticed that his rear gave you electric shocks, too.
"Here." He handed you your books, which, by the look of them, were going to need some cleaning. It was just your luck that you, of all people, would fan directly into the Loch Ness of all mud puddles. You looked down at yourself, and noticed that you, too, were covered head-to-toe in the dark brown liquid.
Wonder boy noticed your appearance. "Hey, why don't I take you home in my truck? You don't look like you want to walk home like that."
You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. It was my fault, and I always take care of things that were my fault. Here, hop on in."
You finally noticed the sleek black truck parked behind him. You could already smell the new-truck odor that wafted out of the windows. You backed away nervously.
"No, no, its ok, I can walk. Really."
"I promise I won't bite," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "If it will make you feel any better, there's some newspapers in the back you can put on the seat."
You looked up at him. He was grinning at you, hand outstretched to take your backpack from your muddied hands. You sighed, and handed it to him.
"Great, " he said. He opened the truck door and placed your backpack next to what must have been his own. "Hop on in."
You peered into the backseat to find said newspapers, but to no avail.
"Um...," you searched for his name in the back of your head.
"Marshall," he supplied. "Marshall Ward."
"Well, Marshall Ward, where are those papers you were talking about?"
He smiled. "They're on your seat."
You looked down. While you were busying yourself searching in the backseat, Marshall had pulled them out from underneath his chair and spread them all over the front seat. You looked over at him quizzically.
"When you fell," he said, "I kinda slipped, too." He pointed to the large, wet stain on his jeans. Your eyes widened, and you began stammering apologies. He waved them off.
"Hey, hey, its ok," he said. "It was my fault you fell in the first place. Well, hop on in."
He slid into the drivers side, and cautiously, you took your place in the passenger's seat, shutting the door carefully behind you.
"The door's not gonna break, you know," he teased, and you flushed.
"Sorry," you said, and you began to relax a bit more. Marshall started the car and bent down to adjust the radio. He then straightened back up and began to pull out of the school's parking lot.
"And that was just Incubus wrapping up the hour with their hit single 'Drive'. Now, requested by Mary E. in Paducah, Kentucky, Creed with their newest single, 'My Sacrifice'-"
"Hey, I love this song!" you exclaimed. The opening guitar licks cut through the radio's silence.
"So do I, " Marshall agreed, and reached over to turn up the radio. "So," he said, settling back into the driver's seat as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Where do you live?"
"111 Maple Hill," you said.
"That's a long way to walk everyday."
"I do it for the exercise. It's a long time in between softball seasons."
"You play softball?"
"Yes, on the high school team. I know someone who isn't keeping up with their high school sports..." you tease.
He flushed. "I kinda go dead around March. One of those hibernation things."
"Therefore, you live it out in October?"
"Exactly."
He pulled around to the end of your street. "Here we are. Now, which house is it?"
"The one with the big green roof."
He drove down the street slowly.
"Marshall! You missed it!"
"Whoops."
"Mr. Ward, there's only 1 house with a green roof on the entire street and you managed to miss it..."
"I'll drive around again."
He circled the block and went back down the street.
"MARSHALL!"
"Sorry."
Finally, after about 3 tries, he pulled into your driveway. You hopped out.
"Thanks for the ride, Marshall."
"Anytime, uhh--"
"(Your-name-here)"
"Well, anytime (YNH)."
"Thanks Marshall." You began to shut the door, but Marshall leaned over the seat.
"If you want to, say, jump in some more mud puddles tomorrow around 3, I'll pick you up."
You flashed him a smile. "Sounds like a plan."
Part 3
The next day, you trudged through school as if you were lost in a fog. Normally, you tried to pay attention in class, but today was different. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something was different. Even your friends noticed it.
"Psst..(YNH)...Snap out of it!" one of your friends, Maggie, whispered across the aisle in Spanish class. "She just asked you a question!"
You straightened up. "?Perdon, profesora?"
Your teacher rattled off one of the questions in the book, one that you had no idea what she was talking about. You blinked, bewildered. A few kids snickered.
"Help me!" you mouthed to Maggie. She pointed at the book. The answer was a few lines below the question, there smack dab in the middle of the book. Blushing furiously, you answered the question and sank back in your desk. "Thanks" you mouthed back.
You didn't even know what was going on for the rest of the class...you just sat and stared at the clock hung above the blackboard. There were 20 minutes left in class. The minutes slowly ticked by...finally...
BRRRRRIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG
You leapt out of your chair quickly, knocking it over in by accident. Papers flew everywhere, and your books slid to the floor. You groaned, and bent to pick up the books. Maggie squatted next to you and helped located your papers.
"What is up with you today?" she asked. "Your totally out of it."
You didn't reply, but picked up the books and began walking to the door. Maggie ran after you, calling, "(YNH), wait for me!"
She caught up with you in the hall. "What's the rush (YNH)? Got a hot date?" she teased.
You said nothing, but quickened your pace to your locker, Maggie babbling about nothing next to you. When you reached it, the hall was mostly empty. You set down your books and got out your backpack, and began piling books into it. There was a soft touch on your shoulder, and you looked up.
It was Marshall. "Hey," he said, looking into your locker. "Need any help?"
You grinned. "Sure, if your a body builder," you teased. He flexed his muscles jokingly. "I think every teacher took the homework they were going to assign for the next 6 months and gave it to me today."
"Ahh...I see, " he said, holding up your backpack while you tried to cram your biology book into it. "Need any help with it?"
"Naw, I think I can manage," you said. You finished packing your books into your backpack and Marshall handed it to you. Your arm quickly sunk with the weight.
"Here," he said, taking it back and looping his arms in the straps. "I'll carry it."
"Where's yours?" you asked. "I could carry it."
"Its in the truck. I put it in there and ran back here."
"Did you have a gut feeling I'd need help?" you grinned. He nodded solemnly.
"Oh, Great and Wise Marshall," you said a la Aladdin and the magic lamp, "what do you see in the future today?"
"Well, bebbe," he said in a Caribbean accent, "I see we be going to me truck...and den we be drivin...Den I be askin you if I could take you to de Boulder's cafe for a root beer..Den I see you sayin yes..."
"Well, we better not tempt fate," you said playfully, and walked out of the school together. A few people hanging out in front of the school called out their hellos to Marshall, and he nodded back to them politley.
"Mr. Popular," you remarked casually, and he gave you a Look.
"Not exactly..." he said. "More like 'Mr. We-Better-Be-Nice-To-Him-Or-He'll- Beat-Us-Up-Because-He's-The-Big-Bad-Senior."
"Oh, I see." You reached his truck and pulled the door open, stuffing the backpacks into the backseat. Marshall got into the drivers side and began starting the engine.
"So, you want to go to Boulders?" he asked offhandedly. "You don't have to, if you've got homework to do..."
"No, I'd love to go, " you said. "I can worry about modern ecology later tonight."
"Great." He flashed you a smile.
Upon arriving at Boulders, you both got out of the truck and began walking to the cafe. Halfway there, you realized you'd left your wallet back in your backpack, but Marshall persuaded you into letting him pick up the tab. You were still disagreeing when you stepped into the restaurant.
"(YNH), I've got it, don't worry about it," Marshall said, leading you to the counter. A blond waitress leaned over the counter. Here nametag read "Hi, Welcome to Boulders. I'm CAMI".
"What do you need, stranger?" she said to Marshall coyly, flashing him an airbrushed smile. Marshall ignored her advances.
"I'll have a root beer and she'll have a-" he looked at you.
"-Root beer also." you finished, smiling at him. Cami took notice of Marshall and your looks and furrowed her brows. Marshall noticed and playfully swung his arm over your shoulders.
"Well, HUN-" he drawled. "I think we should get us something else to eat...in celebration of us bein' engaged n' all...what do you say darlin sugar-plum?"
You decided to play along. "Well, sweetie sugar-pie...now that I'm eating for 2 I think that'd be just grand..."
Cami frowned hard in your direction. "What else do you need?"
"Well, honey darling sweetums...I changed my mind..." Marshall drawled, looking over on the menu. "I figure we can eat when we get home...that sound alright wit you?"
"Sure does," you said, flashing him a secret grin. Cami practically hurled your beeper across the counter. Marshall picked it, up, gave her a long, hillbilly wink, and led you to your table.
You burst into laughter as soon as Marshall pulled your chair out for you.
"That poor girl," he said wistfully, before changing back into his drawling accent, "she don't need to be meddlin wit us folkses..."
"Stop it," you gasped. "If looks could kill..."
"We'd be berried in our lil family plot, sweetum honey pies..."
You two began laughing again, uncontrollably. The only reason you stopped is when the beeper buzzed and Marshall went up to get your drinks. He came back with a devilish glint in his eye...
"Marshall Ward, " you said reproachfully, sipping on your drink. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," he said carefully, setting the drink tray on the table behind him. You gave him another Look. "Nothing a few psychiatric sessions wouldn't cure."
You looked at him over the rim of your glass. Me furrowed his brows like Cami, and the two of you snorted into your glasses.
"So," Marshall said, setting down his glass. "Do you know what I realized in World Civ today?"
"What?" you asked, sipping your drink again.
"I don't even know how old you are."
"I'm 15."
"That settles that question."
"How old are you, Marshall?"
"You know that," he said, drinking his root beer.
"I know," you replied. "I just thought it would make for interesting conversation."
He gave you an adorable smile over the rim of his drink. You fought the impulse to hug him from across the table.
"What do YOU like TO do for FUN?" you said, mimicking your guidance counselor with abnormal accuracy. Marshall snickered, and replied, "I just LOVE getting TO know my STUDENTS..."
You both laughed at that, and the 2 of you spent the better part of the next 2 hours practicing your impersonations and irritating Cami to no end. When 5 o'clock rolled around, Marshall asked, "Shall I order another round or shall you get your homework?"
"As much tempting as the offer is," you say. "I will be in deep trouble if I don't finish that English paper."
"Allrighty, then," Jim Carrey/Marshall said, and the two of you walked out of Boulders, arms slung around each others shoulders for Cami's benifit.
***********
You got out of Marshall's truck, and pulled on your backpack. "Thanks again for the ride and drinks."
"Twas my pleasure, me lady," said Marshall, kissing your hand in pseudo- dramaticasy. You tried not to blush, but were sure your ears had reddened, as the usually did.
"Your welcome, m'lord," you said shakily, and headed toward your door.
"(YNH)?"
Your head turned around. "Y-Yes?"
"Are you going to the MSU basketball game tommorrow?"
"Maybe," you said.
"You want to go with me? I got an extra ticket," he said, with a hint of (dare you think)embarassment in his voice. You flashed him a smile, already feeling better that he looked how you felt.
"Pick me up at 6."
Part 5
The next day was Saturday, and you spent the greater portion of it sleeping in and trying to finish your Spanish project. Marshall had helped you with it a bit, and it was turning out quite nicely. After carefully gluing a Spanish-looking Barbie to your diorama, you reached over for your glass and looked up at the clock.
"4:45? Oh, man!"
You abandoned your workstation, and hurried off to the shower. You had less than 1-½ hours to shower and dress, and then your makeup…
After your shower, you attempted to blow-dry your hair, put on your makeup and choose your outfit all at the same time. You had just finally got all regions of your hair dry when the doorbell rang. You looked at the clock 5:55.
"Will someone get that please?" you called between your teeth, which were presently housing about a dozen bobby pins. You where wearing your MSU sweatshirt and blue jeans, and were presently trying to tie your hair up into a peppy little ponytail without all of it falling down in the back. You slid in the last bobby pin, grabbed your purse, and headed up the stairs. Marshall looked down at you.
"You look nice," he said. He handed you your ticket.
"Thanks," you reply, a little breathless. "So do you."
And, boy, did he. He was wearing a gold shirt atop a long-sleeved white one and blue jeans and carrying a navy blue windbreaker. There was something about that color of shirt, or maybe it was the light. You blinked, trying not to stare.
"Be home by 10," calls your father as the door shuts. You walk down the steps with Marshall to his waiting truck, and slide in.
"Nice house," Marshall remarks as he pulls out of the driveway.
"Thanks," you reply. "Sorry if my little sister shouted asinine comments at you that I didn't hear. She tends to do that."
"Oh, I know how that works," Marshall replied. "I've got a little brother at home who does the same thing."
You sit in silence for a moment. Not uncomfortable silence like you had with any previous guys, silence that forced you to start a conversation or else go insane. No, this was different. In fact, your whole relationship with Marshall was different than you'd ever had with any other guys. Could it even be called a relationship? You knew you wanted it to be. You just wondered if Marshall felt the same, but you also didn't want to loose him as a friend if he didn't. Or, perhaps you were ahead of yourself. You'd only known the guy for the past 3 days, were you overreacting? Maybe-
"Earth to (YNH), (YNH)," Marshall called, waving his free hand in front of your face. "Wake up…. Report back to Marshall-ship…"
"Sorry," you said apologetically. "I was just thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts."
"Uh-uh."
"Why not?" he sounded hurt.
"I'll tell you later."
"Goody." Marshall jumped up in his seat like a 3-year-old. You giggled. "So, you ready to root for MSU?"
He shot his fist up limply into the air. "Go…team…"
"Aww, c'mon," you said, coyly. "It'll be fun…we can watch 9,998 screaming fans make idiots out of themselves, and see a horrible game all at one simple price. Plus, you can't forget the over-cooked hotdogs."
"Ooh, I love those."
"I thought so," you smiled. Up ahead, you could see the stadium, already lit up. Marshall drove you to the front entrance.
"Ok, here we are."
"Marshall, this is VIP parking!"
"I know. Look at your ticket."
You glanced down. Sure enough, the paper was emblazoned with a large VIP on the bottom half.
"How'd you get these?" you asked, shocked, and you climbed out of the truck.
He grinned at your expression. "Well, I didn't steal them."
"I didn't think that," you said indignantly as the 2 of you walked toward the gate. "I just wondered…"
"Hey, I have connections," Marshall said as he handed your tickets to the usher. "And I also have these little things called impulse buys…I believe your kind know about these very well…"
You gave him an elbow, which he ducked and laughed at your vexed face. You stalked over toward your floor section with a huff. It took you a few minutes to realize Marshall wasn't following.
"Marshall?" you called out cautiously to the rushing crowd. "Marshall? Marshall Ward---"
"BOO!"
You screamed. Next to you, grinning maniacally with a pleased expression glinting in his eyes, was Marshall, holding 2 hotdogs and 2 drinks in his hands.
"What the heck-"
"Peace offering?" he said, bowing his head and looking at you with his puppy-dog eyes. You felt your heart suddenly melt into a large puddle, but forced to keep a partially angry expression on your face. "Oh, come on," he begged. "They're overcooked, just the way you like them…"
A grin escaped your face. The boy was just too darn charming. "Ok," you said, and picked up a hotdog and drink.
"You want anything to go on them before we go sit? I got a little of everything, because I didn't know what you wanted…"
You laughed. "I'll just take ketchup, thanks. I can't eat a hotdog with anything else on it."
"Me neither. I don't get this whole fetish with mustard and relish…the words even sound disgusting…"
You went down to your seats. They were nice seats, too. Mid-court floor seats right behind the local TV station. Marshall's eyes went wide.
"Look (YNH)! TV!" he squealed. You chortled in amusement, as Marshall tried to see if he could get himself on TV. He pulled you over close to the screen. "Say hi!" he said, waving crazily. You joined in, not realizing how stupid you looked.
"Um, sir? That's not on," said a technician, who was winding up the cable. Marshall sank back into his seat, disappointed. You did, too. Your heart had leapt up into your mouth when he'd pulled you close like that.
You took a bite of your hotdog. Marshall was right. They were overcooked, just how you liked them.
"Everything all right?" Marshall teased. You drained your drink, which turned out to be Diet Coke.
"Delicious," you croaked.
Part 6
You had managed the first half without falling asleep. The visiting team was creaming MSU, who were behind 19 points. Many a time had you seen Marshall get up from his seat disgustedly, shout something at the referees, and sit back down, growling about lack of defense. You thought it was adorable, but didn't say anything. Halftime had rolled around.
"You hungry?" Marshall asked. You shook your head. "Sorry, but that gourmet hotdog filled me up."
"I'm going to go get some Skittles at the concession stand."
"I'll make sure no one steals our seats," he flashed a grin at him, and he began climbing the stairs. You watched him disappear into the crowd, and turned back around to view halftime entertainment "CC Elm. Little Dribblers."
"(YNH)!"
You turned around. There was Maggie, with her kinda-sorta-wishes-he-was-her boyfriend Luke. You sighed. You loved Maggie to death, but she had horrible timing.
"Hi, Mag," you said as she ran over, Luke trailing. "Hi, Luke."
"So, what brings you here?" she asked, sitting down in Marshall's seat. You fought back a grimace as you remembered the location of his hotdog remains: right on the chair Maggie had just sat on.
"Marshall asked me to go…he had an extra ticket," you said. "Uh, Mag-"
"Aww, that's so cute!" Maggie squealed, turning to Luke. "Marshall is a SENIOR who's got the hot's for (YNH)."
"He does not!" you heard your voice rise several registers. "We're just friends. Anyway, Maggie, you've-"
"Oh, we know he does," said Maggie slyly, swiveling around in the chair. You grimaced.
"Maggie, you've got-"
"So, what are you 2 doing after the game? We're going to grab some pizza. Care to join?"
"I'll have to ask Marshall," you said. "Maggie, there's-"
"Aww, I know he'd want to. You too are so cute together. He's not bad looking himself." She winked at me and turned to Luke , "Of course, your adorable, too…"
Marshall appeared, holding his package of Skittles in one hand. He looked at me quizically, and I shrugged. He cleared his throat, and Maggie looked up.
"Oh, hi, Marshall!" she exclaimed, and then stood up. "We better be going. Bye, (YNH))."
She left, dragging Luke behind her. A few people snickered as they noticed the hotdog remains dangling from her rear, unbeknownst to her. Marshall picked up a few napkins, and wiped the seat clean.
"Sorry about that," you said as he sat back down.
"Its ok," he remarked, offering you a Skittle. You took one. "I like ketchup-scented seats."
The two of you watched the final set of little kids attempt to shoot free- throws, and, to tumulous applause, ran off the court. Then the cheerleaders took their place.
"WELCH!"
You looked up. 3 huge, bulky guys thundered down the stairs toward you. Marshall looked at you and rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered. "Its OK," you whisper back.
"Hey Marshall-"
"Pitaful game, huh?"
"Whose the gal, Marshall?"
"Hey, if you ever get fed up with this guy, you can reach me at 555-780â€""
"Guys, guys? Do you mind?" Marshall said, grinning. "I'm sorry. These guys have overdosed on….something…"
"Chocolate-"one supplied.
"Lots and lotsâ€""
"I think we're about ready to buy out Hershey, actaully-"
After the guys stopped prattling, Marshall introduced you. They seemed nice enough, and sat with you guys to watch the final half of the game. Allthough you liked them, secretly you wished they'd go away.
After the game (a thriller in which MSU narrowly won by 2 points), Marshall and you piled back into his truck, and stopped off for a bite to eat at Dominos before he took you back home. You reached the driveway and looked at the clock. 9:59
"Right on time," you said as you got out of the car and Marshall walked you to your door.
"I'm a very punctual person," he said, and you too finally reached the front steps. The hair on the back of your neck prickled.
"Well, I had a very nice time," you said. "Thanks for the tickets."
"Your welcome," he replied. "Anytime."
You both smiled awkwardly at each other.
"Wellâ€""
"Ummâ€""
"Yeah." You both said together, which caused you both to blush. Marshall looked at you.
"Oh, what the heck," he said, then gave you a hug. Thoughts raced into your brain, and you tried to shoo them out. Slowly, you pulled apart, staring deep into each other's eyes. Your pulse quickened, as he leaned closerâ€"and closer---
"(YNH) IS OUTSIDE KISSING ON HER BOYFRIEND, MOM!" yelled your little sister. You drew apart, the moment broken. You smiled back uneasily. "Well, umâ€""
"Bye," you both said together, and the 2 of you went your separate ways.
For all those who wish to know, Marshall is based on my sorta-kinda-wish-he- were-my-boyfriend, but don't worry I'm not a stalker! Actually the real Marshall is almost totally opposite from this one, so you don't have to worry about putting me in therapy or anything. Ahem, where was I? Oh yes. The Maggie character is based on the fanfic writer 'izzabelle', whose story Verdraegan is also here on Fanfic net. Read it! I am in it (Katie) and so is Marshall. Last names have been attempted to be changed on this story, so if an occasional funky word pops up, blame it on me. Mostly everyone in this story is based on real people, and lets just hope that most of them never read it.
And, without furthur ado, MILAGRO:
Part 1
It was a lowly autumn evening, with the leaves just beginning to change their colors. Everyone around seemed so happy, so excited with the upcoming seasonal changes. All except you. You had nothing to be excited about, and you knew this trend would probably carry on into the upcoming months. But, that was before Marshall Ward walked into your life...
You sat outside your local high school, your book bag bursting with homework, homework you wouldn't get around to do until later the evening. Perhaps you wouldn't look at it all, and just wait for tomorrow morning and do it while everyone else was talking during homeroom. You weren't really sure about what mood you were in, and frankly you didn't care. Life was going all downhill for you, and there seemed nothing for you to look forward to. You got up from the bench with a resigned sigh and started walking home. Before you could walk 50 feet, you felt someone bump into you, and you hit the ground with a thud.
You looked up. "Hey, why don't you watch out where your-"
You stopped. There before you, his eyes dark with concern, was the cutest guy you had ever laid eyes on. His embarrassment only added to his obvious charm, and he reached for your hand.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that," he said. He gave you an impish grin as he helped you to your feet. His touch sent electric sparks throughout your body, and, as he bent over to gather your scattered books, you noticed that his rear gave you electric shocks, too.
"Here." He handed you your books, which, by the look of them, were going to need some cleaning. It was just your luck that you, of all people, would fan directly into the Loch Ness of all mud puddles. You looked down at yourself, and noticed that you, too, were covered head-to-toe in the dark brown liquid.
Wonder boy noticed your appearance. "Hey, why don't I take you home in my truck? You don't look like you want to walk home like that."
You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. It was my fault, and I always take care of things that were my fault. Here, hop on in."
You finally noticed the sleek black truck parked behind him. You could already smell the new-truck odor that wafted out of the windows. You backed away nervously.
"No, no, its ok, I can walk. Really."
"I promise I won't bite," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "If it will make you feel any better, there's some newspapers in the back you can put on the seat."
You looked up at him. He was grinning at you, hand outstretched to take your backpack from your muddied hands. You sighed, and handed it to him.
"Great, " he said. He opened the truck door and placed your backpack next to what must have been his own. "Hop on in."
You peered into the backseat to find said newspapers, but to no avail.
"Um...," you searched for his name in the back of your head.
"Marshall," he supplied. "Marshall Ward."
"Well, Marshall Ward, where are those papers you were talking about?"
He smiled. "They're on your seat."
You looked down. While you were busying yourself searching in the backseat, Marshall had pulled them out from underneath his chair and spread them all over the front seat. You looked over at him quizzically.
"When you fell," he said, "I kinda slipped, too." He pointed to the large, wet stain on his jeans. Your eyes widened, and you began stammering apologies. He waved them off.
"Hey, hey, its ok," he said. "It was my fault you fell in the first place. Well, hop on in."
He slid into the drivers side, and cautiously, you took your place in the passenger's seat, shutting the door carefully behind you.
"The door's not gonna break, you know," he teased, and you flushed.
"Sorry," you said, and you began to relax a bit more. Marshall started the car and bent down to adjust the radio. He then straightened back up and began to pull out of the school's parking lot.
"And that was just Incubus wrapping up the hour with their hit single 'Drive'. Now, requested by Mary E. in Paducah, Kentucky, Creed with their newest single, 'My Sacrifice'-"
"Hey, I love this song!" you exclaimed. The opening guitar licks cut through the radio's silence.
"So do I, " Marshall agreed, and reached over to turn up the radio. "So," he said, settling back into the driver's seat as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Where do you live?"
"111 Maple Hill," you said.
"That's a long way to walk everyday."
"I do it for the exercise. It's a long time in between softball seasons."
"You play softball?"
"Yes, on the high school team. I know someone who isn't keeping up with their high school sports..." you tease.
He flushed. "I kinda go dead around March. One of those hibernation things."
"Therefore, you live it out in October?"
"Exactly."
He pulled around to the end of your street. "Here we are. Now, which house is it?"
"The one with the big green roof."
He drove down the street slowly.
"Marshall! You missed it!"
"Whoops."
"Mr. Ward, there's only 1 house with a green roof on the entire street and you managed to miss it..."
"I'll drive around again."
He circled the block and went back down the street.
"MARSHALL!"
"Sorry."
Finally, after about 3 tries, he pulled into your driveway. You hopped out.
"Thanks for the ride, Marshall."
"Anytime, uhh--"
"(Your-name-here)"
"Well, anytime (YNH)."
"Thanks Marshall." You began to shut the door, but Marshall leaned over the seat.
"If you want to, say, jump in some more mud puddles tomorrow around 3, I'll pick you up."
You flashed him a smile. "Sounds like a plan."
Part 3
The next day, you trudged through school as if you were lost in a fog. Normally, you tried to pay attention in class, but today was different. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something was different. Even your friends noticed it.
"Psst..(YNH)...Snap out of it!" one of your friends, Maggie, whispered across the aisle in Spanish class. "She just asked you a question!"
You straightened up. "?Perdon, profesora?"
Your teacher rattled off one of the questions in the book, one that you had no idea what she was talking about. You blinked, bewildered. A few kids snickered.
"Help me!" you mouthed to Maggie. She pointed at the book. The answer was a few lines below the question, there smack dab in the middle of the book. Blushing furiously, you answered the question and sank back in your desk. "Thanks" you mouthed back.
You didn't even know what was going on for the rest of the class...you just sat and stared at the clock hung above the blackboard. There were 20 minutes left in class. The minutes slowly ticked by...finally...
BRRRRRIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG
You leapt out of your chair quickly, knocking it over in by accident. Papers flew everywhere, and your books slid to the floor. You groaned, and bent to pick up the books. Maggie squatted next to you and helped located your papers.
"What is up with you today?" she asked. "Your totally out of it."
You didn't reply, but picked up the books and began walking to the door. Maggie ran after you, calling, "(YNH), wait for me!"
She caught up with you in the hall. "What's the rush (YNH)? Got a hot date?" she teased.
You said nothing, but quickened your pace to your locker, Maggie babbling about nothing next to you. When you reached it, the hall was mostly empty. You set down your books and got out your backpack, and began piling books into it. There was a soft touch on your shoulder, and you looked up.
It was Marshall. "Hey," he said, looking into your locker. "Need any help?"
You grinned. "Sure, if your a body builder," you teased. He flexed his muscles jokingly. "I think every teacher took the homework they were going to assign for the next 6 months and gave it to me today."
"Ahh...I see, " he said, holding up your backpack while you tried to cram your biology book into it. "Need any help with it?"
"Naw, I think I can manage," you said. You finished packing your books into your backpack and Marshall handed it to you. Your arm quickly sunk with the weight.
"Here," he said, taking it back and looping his arms in the straps. "I'll carry it."
"Where's yours?" you asked. "I could carry it."
"Its in the truck. I put it in there and ran back here."
"Did you have a gut feeling I'd need help?" you grinned. He nodded solemnly.
"Oh, Great and Wise Marshall," you said a la Aladdin and the magic lamp, "what do you see in the future today?"
"Well, bebbe," he said in a Caribbean accent, "I see we be going to me truck...and den we be drivin...Den I be askin you if I could take you to de Boulder's cafe for a root beer..Den I see you sayin yes..."
"Well, we better not tempt fate," you said playfully, and walked out of the school together. A few people hanging out in front of the school called out their hellos to Marshall, and he nodded back to them politley.
"Mr. Popular," you remarked casually, and he gave you a Look.
"Not exactly..." he said. "More like 'Mr. We-Better-Be-Nice-To-Him-Or-He'll- Beat-Us-Up-Because-He's-The-Big-Bad-Senior."
"Oh, I see." You reached his truck and pulled the door open, stuffing the backpacks into the backseat. Marshall got into the drivers side and began starting the engine.
"So, you want to go to Boulders?" he asked offhandedly. "You don't have to, if you've got homework to do..."
"No, I'd love to go, " you said. "I can worry about modern ecology later tonight."
"Great." He flashed you a smile.
Upon arriving at Boulders, you both got out of the truck and began walking to the cafe. Halfway there, you realized you'd left your wallet back in your backpack, but Marshall persuaded you into letting him pick up the tab. You were still disagreeing when you stepped into the restaurant.
"(YNH), I've got it, don't worry about it," Marshall said, leading you to the counter. A blond waitress leaned over the counter. Here nametag read "Hi, Welcome to Boulders. I'm CAMI".
"What do you need, stranger?" she said to Marshall coyly, flashing him an airbrushed smile. Marshall ignored her advances.
"I'll have a root beer and she'll have a-" he looked at you.
"-Root beer also." you finished, smiling at him. Cami took notice of Marshall and your looks and furrowed her brows. Marshall noticed and playfully swung his arm over your shoulders.
"Well, HUN-" he drawled. "I think we should get us something else to eat...in celebration of us bein' engaged n' all...what do you say darlin sugar-plum?"
You decided to play along. "Well, sweetie sugar-pie...now that I'm eating for 2 I think that'd be just grand..."
Cami frowned hard in your direction. "What else do you need?"
"Well, honey darling sweetums...I changed my mind..." Marshall drawled, looking over on the menu. "I figure we can eat when we get home...that sound alright wit you?"
"Sure does," you said, flashing him a secret grin. Cami practically hurled your beeper across the counter. Marshall picked it, up, gave her a long, hillbilly wink, and led you to your table.
You burst into laughter as soon as Marshall pulled your chair out for you.
"That poor girl," he said wistfully, before changing back into his drawling accent, "she don't need to be meddlin wit us folkses..."
"Stop it," you gasped. "If looks could kill..."
"We'd be berried in our lil family plot, sweetum honey pies..."
You two began laughing again, uncontrollably. The only reason you stopped is when the beeper buzzed and Marshall went up to get your drinks. He came back with a devilish glint in his eye...
"Marshall Ward, " you said reproachfully, sipping on your drink. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," he said carefully, setting the drink tray on the table behind him. You gave him another Look. "Nothing a few psychiatric sessions wouldn't cure."
You looked at him over the rim of your glass. Me furrowed his brows like Cami, and the two of you snorted into your glasses.
"So," Marshall said, setting down his glass. "Do you know what I realized in World Civ today?"
"What?" you asked, sipping your drink again.
"I don't even know how old you are."
"I'm 15."
"That settles that question."
"How old are you, Marshall?"
"You know that," he said, drinking his root beer.
"I know," you replied. "I just thought it would make for interesting conversation."
He gave you an adorable smile over the rim of his drink. You fought the impulse to hug him from across the table.
"What do YOU like TO do for FUN?" you said, mimicking your guidance counselor with abnormal accuracy. Marshall snickered, and replied, "I just LOVE getting TO know my STUDENTS..."
You both laughed at that, and the 2 of you spent the better part of the next 2 hours practicing your impersonations and irritating Cami to no end. When 5 o'clock rolled around, Marshall asked, "Shall I order another round or shall you get your homework?"
"As much tempting as the offer is," you say. "I will be in deep trouble if I don't finish that English paper."
"Allrighty, then," Jim Carrey/Marshall said, and the two of you walked out of Boulders, arms slung around each others shoulders for Cami's benifit.
***********
You got out of Marshall's truck, and pulled on your backpack. "Thanks again for the ride and drinks."
"Twas my pleasure, me lady," said Marshall, kissing your hand in pseudo- dramaticasy. You tried not to blush, but were sure your ears had reddened, as the usually did.
"Your welcome, m'lord," you said shakily, and headed toward your door.
"(YNH)?"
Your head turned around. "Y-Yes?"
"Are you going to the MSU basketball game tommorrow?"
"Maybe," you said.
"You want to go with me? I got an extra ticket," he said, with a hint of (dare you think)embarassment in his voice. You flashed him a smile, already feeling better that he looked how you felt.
"Pick me up at 6."
Part 5
The next day was Saturday, and you spent the greater portion of it sleeping in and trying to finish your Spanish project. Marshall had helped you with it a bit, and it was turning out quite nicely. After carefully gluing a Spanish-looking Barbie to your diorama, you reached over for your glass and looked up at the clock.
"4:45? Oh, man!"
You abandoned your workstation, and hurried off to the shower. You had less than 1-½ hours to shower and dress, and then your makeup…
After your shower, you attempted to blow-dry your hair, put on your makeup and choose your outfit all at the same time. You had just finally got all regions of your hair dry when the doorbell rang. You looked at the clock 5:55.
"Will someone get that please?" you called between your teeth, which were presently housing about a dozen bobby pins. You where wearing your MSU sweatshirt and blue jeans, and were presently trying to tie your hair up into a peppy little ponytail without all of it falling down in the back. You slid in the last bobby pin, grabbed your purse, and headed up the stairs. Marshall looked down at you.
"You look nice," he said. He handed you your ticket.
"Thanks," you reply, a little breathless. "So do you."
And, boy, did he. He was wearing a gold shirt atop a long-sleeved white one and blue jeans and carrying a navy blue windbreaker. There was something about that color of shirt, or maybe it was the light. You blinked, trying not to stare.
"Be home by 10," calls your father as the door shuts. You walk down the steps with Marshall to his waiting truck, and slide in.
"Nice house," Marshall remarks as he pulls out of the driveway.
"Thanks," you reply. "Sorry if my little sister shouted asinine comments at you that I didn't hear. She tends to do that."
"Oh, I know how that works," Marshall replied. "I've got a little brother at home who does the same thing."
You sit in silence for a moment. Not uncomfortable silence like you had with any previous guys, silence that forced you to start a conversation or else go insane. No, this was different. In fact, your whole relationship with Marshall was different than you'd ever had with any other guys. Could it even be called a relationship? You knew you wanted it to be. You just wondered if Marshall felt the same, but you also didn't want to loose him as a friend if he didn't. Or, perhaps you were ahead of yourself. You'd only known the guy for the past 3 days, were you overreacting? Maybe-
"Earth to (YNH), (YNH)," Marshall called, waving his free hand in front of your face. "Wake up…. Report back to Marshall-ship…"
"Sorry," you said apologetically. "I was just thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts."
"Uh-uh."
"Why not?" he sounded hurt.
"I'll tell you later."
"Goody." Marshall jumped up in his seat like a 3-year-old. You giggled. "So, you ready to root for MSU?"
He shot his fist up limply into the air. "Go…team…"
"Aww, c'mon," you said, coyly. "It'll be fun…we can watch 9,998 screaming fans make idiots out of themselves, and see a horrible game all at one simple price. Plus, you can't forget the over-cooked hotdogs."
"Ooh, I love those."
"I thought so," you smiled. Up ahead, you could see the stadium, already lit up. Marshall drove you to the front entrance.
"Ok, here we are."
"Marshall, this is VIP parking!"
"I know. Look at your ticket."
You glanced down. Sure enough, the paper was emblazoned with a large VIP on the bottom half.
"How'd you get these?" you asked, shocked, and you climbed out of the truck.
He grinned at your expression. "Well, I didn't steal them."
"I didn't think that," you said indignantly as the 2 of you walked toward the gate. "I just wondered…"
"Hey, I have connections," Marshall said as he handed your tickets to the usher. "And I also have these little things called impulse buys…I believe your kind know about these very well…"
You gave him an elbow, which he ducked and laughed at your vexed face. You stalked over toward your floor section with a huff. It took you a few minutes to realize Marshall wasn't following.
"Marshall?" you called out cautiously to the rushing crowd. "Marshall? Marshall Ward---"
"BOO!"
You screamed. Next to you, grinning maniacally with a pleased expression glinting in his eyes, was Marshall, holding 2 hotdogs and 2 drinks in his hands.
"What the heck-"
"Peace offering?" he said, bowing his head and looking at you with his puppy-dog eyes. You felt your heart suddenly melt into a large puddle, but forced to keep a partially angry expression on your face. "Oh, come on," he begged. "They're overcooked, just the way you like them…"
A grin escaped your face. The boy was just too darn charming. "Ok," you said, and picked up a hotdog and drink.
"You want anything to go on them before we go sit? I got a little of everything, because I didn't know what you wanted…"
You laughed. "I'll just take ketchup, thanks. I can't eat a hotdog with anything else on it."
"Me neither. I don't get this whole fetish with mustard and relish…the words even sound disgusting…"
You went down to your seats. They were nice seats, too. Mid-court floor seats right behind the local TV station. Marshall's eyes went wide.
"Look (YNH)! TV!" he squealed. You chortled in amusement, as Marshall tried to see if he could get himself on TV. He pulled you over close to the screen. "Say hi!" he said, waving crazily. You joined in, not realizing how stupid you looked.
"Um, sir? That's not on," said a technician, who was winding up the cable. Marshall sank back into his seat, disappointed. You did, too. Your heart had leapt up into your mouth when he'd pulled you close like that.
You took a bite of your hotdog. Marshall was right. They were overcooked, just how you liked them.
"Everything all right?" Marshall teased. You drained your drink, which turned out to be Diet Coke.
"Delicious," you croaked.
Part 6
You had managed the first half without falling asleep. The visiting team was creaming MSU, who were behind 19 points. Many a time had you seen Marshall get up from his seat disgustedly, shout something at the referees, and sit back down, growling about lack of defense. You thought it was adorable, but didn't say anything. Halftime had rolled around.
"You hungry?" Marshall asked. You shook your head. "Sorry, but that gourmet hotdog filled me up."
"I'm going to go get some Skittles at the concession stand."
"I'll make sure no one steals our seats," he flashed a grin at him, and he began climbing the stairs. You watched him disappear into the crowd, and turned back around to view halftime entertainment "CC Elm. Little Dribblers."
"(YNH)!"
You turned around. There was Maggie, with her kinda-sorta-wishes-he-was-her boyfriend Luke. You sighed. You loved Maggie to death, but she had horrible timing.
"Hi, Mag," you said as she ran over, Luke trailing. "Hi, Luke."
"So, what brings you here?" she asked, sitting down in Marshall's seat. You fought back a grimace as you remembered the location of his hotdog remains: right on the chair Maggie had just sat on.
"Marshall asked me to go…he had an extra ticket," you said. "Uh, Mag-"
"Aww, that's so cute!" Maggie squealed, turning to Luke. "Marshall is a SENIOR who's got the hot's for (YNH)."
"He does not!" you heard your voice rise several registers. "We're just friends. Anyway, Maggie, you've-"
"Oh, we know he does," said Maggie slyly, swiveling around in the chair. You grimaced.
"Maggie, you've got-"
"So, what are you 2 doing after the game? We're going to grab some pizza. Care to join?"
"I'll have to ask Marshall," you said. "Maggie, there's-"
"Aww, I know he'd want to. You too are so cute together. He's not bad looking himself." She winked at me and turned to Luke , "Of course, your adorable, too…"
Marshall appeared, holding his package of Skittles in one hand. He looked at me quizically, and I shrugged. He cleared his throat, and Maggie looked up.
"Oh, hi, Marshall!" she exclaimed, and then stood up. "We better be going. Bye, (YNH))."
She left, dragging Luke behind her. A few people snickered as they noticed the hotdog remains dangling from her rear, unbeknownst to her. Marshall picked up a few napkins, and wiped the seat clean.
"Sorry about that," you said as he sat back down.
"Its ok," he remarked, offering you a Skittle. You took one. "I like ketchup-scented seats."
The two of you watched the final set of little kids attempt to shoot free- throws, and, to tumulous applause, ran off the court. Then the cheerleaders took their place.
"WELCH!"
You looked up. 3 huge, bulky guys thundered down the stairs toward you. Marshall looked at you and rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered. "Its OK," you whisper back.
"Hey Marshall-"
"Pitaful game, huh?"
"Whose the gal, Marshall?"
"Hey, if you ever get fed up with this guy, you can reach me at 555-780â€""
"Guys, guys? Do you mind?" Marshall said, grinning. "I'm sorry. These guys have overdosed on….something…"
"Chocolate-"one supplied.
"Lots and lotsâ€""
"I think we're about ready to buy out Hershey, actaully-"
After the guys stopped prattling, Marshall introduced you. They seemed nice enough, and sat with you guys to watch the final half of the game. Allthough you liked them, secretly you wished they'd go away.
After the game (a thriller in which MSU narrowly won by 2 points), Marshall and you piled back into his truck, and stopped off for a bite to eat at Dominos before he took you back home. You reached the driveway and looked at the clock. 9:59
"Right on time," you said as you got out of the car and Marshall walked you to your door.
"I'm a very punctual person," he said, and you too finally reached the front steps. The hair on the back of your neck prickled.
"Well, I had a very nice time," you said. "Thanks for the tickets."
"Your welcome," he replied. "Anytime."
You both smiled awkwardly at each other.
"Wellâ€""
"Ummâ€""
"Yeah." You both said together, which caused you both to blush. Marshall looked at you.
"Oh, what the heck," he said, then gave you a hug. Thoughts raced into your brain, and you tried to shoo them out. Slowly, you pulled apart, staring deep into each other's eyes. Your pulse quickened, as he leaned closerâ€"and closer---
"(YNH) IS OUTSIDE KISSING ON HER BOYFRIEND, MOM!" yelled your little sister. You drew apart, the moment broken. You smiled back uneasily. "Well, umâ€""
"Bye," you both said together, and the 2 of you went your separate ways.