Chaos Theory

chapter ten

Marlee locks herself into one of the pale green stalls and there's only the sound of metal clanging as she settles the hangers. Del leans his back against the wall and shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts to keep them from picking at his nails. Aside from the two of them, the room is empty, and the slide of fabric echoes along the walls.

"Okay hear me out," Marlee unlocks the door, her hair even messier than before. This dress is red, but it's more flowy than the one from the day before, fluttering into ruffles over her knees. "This, but with a jacket."

Del tilts his head. "What kind?"

The dimple on her cheek deepens. "Denim."

"Get it."

"Agreed."

She smooths her hands down the front of the dress, her smile gummy. She fiddles with the hem against her thigh, pulling the fabric between the cracks of her fingers over and over. Del watches it all, focused on the small dots of white, the tapping of her other hand against the door of the stall. This is it, he thinks, this is where it ends.

"So ," Marlee starts finally, and she doesn't look up at him. "Do you like him?"

Del gulps. He's not going to lie. "Yes."

"For how long?"

His chest thrums with his heartbeat. "Seventh grade." Maybe a little before that, even, but he doesn't need specifics here.

Del waits for her face to twist up, for her to maybe slam the door in his face and tell him to find his own ride home, but it doesn't come.

Marlee places her hands on her hips and meets his gaze head on. Her lips are pursed, but in a way that hints at a smile being held back. Del blinks, confused.

"Oh my god," she says, an edge of amusement creeping in. "He's an idiot, you know."

And Del's not sure where to go from here. He didn't expect this.

But she continues. "I don't think he'll ever figure it out on his own, if that makes you feel better. I love him, but sometimes he's so stupid I could slap him, seriously." She steps forward—into his space—and touches his elbow, the same one she'd grabbed when they'd walked in. She grins, and for a moment she reminds Del so much of Cody that his heart aches. "Your secret is safe with me."

Del breathes. He'd been holding his breath, he realizes. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Here, I've had a crush on Preston since the moment I saw him when I was in kindergarten and he's as stupid as my brother is. There, now we both have each other's secrets. We're practically best friends at this point."

"Preston?"

Marlee laughs. "Yes, I know. It's terrible."

Del finds himself snorting, thinking back to the boy who's most likely stuffing his arms into an atrociously colored blazer at the moment. "Me, too."

"I hate us."

"Me too." He repeats, but he feels less weighed down after Marlee's easy acceptance—which of course she would accept him. She seems even happier now, too, her eyes almost glittering.

"I'm going to hug you now because I'm a hugger and I feel like you need one, okay?"

Del only nods, and then she's wrapping her arms around his middle and tucking her head underneath his chin. She smells like strawberries, is his first thought, before he manages to return the embrace. The last time he'd been this close to someone was when Indie had hugged him before her trip, and he marvels at the fact that this feels exactly like that—like he's hugging his sister.