Two Love

Chapter 10

It was another weekday and another day in Marty's now-regimented schedule. He got up at half 6. He did twenty press-ups. He watched a professional badminton game on his phone, taking note of tactics. Then he took the bus to sixth form, paying utmost attention to all of his subjects (especially PE). Then he returned home, preparing either for badminton sessions or practising badminton serves alone in his back garden – and retrieving shuttlecocks that strayed into his neighbours' garden every day (which often came back covered in dog slobber). Then he'd often be so exhausted after this that he'd climb into bed at 10 – and fall asleep straightaway.

"Marty? Hello? It's form time," said Jade, poking her friend with a ruler for extra effect. "Marty? MARTYN OLIVER POCOCK!"

That made Marty jump. He rubbed at his eyes and raised a weary smile. "Don't call me Martyn – it makes me sound like a middle-aged man who works at a garden centre and plays golf that isn't of the crazy variety, and deludes himself into thinking he enjoys it."

"That's oddly specific," said Jade, "but what's in a name, anyway? I think our names are what we make them, not what they make us. As Juliet says in Romeo and Juliet, 'That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet'." Noting Marty's glazed expression, Jade dropped the subject she had been intending to pursue. "Are you okay, Marty? You haven't been yourself these past two weeks."

"I'm fine," replied Marty automatically, "in fact, I'm better than fine. Have you noticed that these arm muscles are starting to pop? All those press-ups are finally paying off!"

Jade rolled her eyes, but a faint blush filled her cheeks that betrayed her true opinion. Marty grinned. "Admit it – you think it makes me look sexy."

"Alright, alright, I admit it. You don't have to be so cocky about it, though."

*

Returning home from sixth form one sunny afternoon, Marty found that he didn't feel like going into the back garden to practise his serves. It was probably his mediocre psychology lesson that had made him feel this way. Regardless of the reason, Marty slumped onto a brown sofa and turned on the TV. It was on Film4, as usual; but what was unusual was that it was showing a film that was unfamiliar to him. There were four women – no, teenagers – dressed in 19th-century attire and talking animatedly to each other. Pressing the info button, Marty discovered that the film was Little Women. Little Women – that was the name of the book Parisa had given him to read. The book he still hadn't read.

Instantaneously, Marty turned off the TV, cast the remote to the coffee table and fished around in his backpack for the book – there it was! After finding a spare piece of paper that would do for a bookmark, Marty began to read. 

He became absorbed in the story of four sisters who, although poor, were resolving to be content with their lot this Christmas. Four sisters who were willing to give up their Christmas breakfast to feed a family less fortunate than their own. Perhaps this selflessness was what was missing from Marty's life – everything these days seemed to be centred around him and his dreams, yet he was not fully satisfied. Now he was thinking about it, he hadn't spent much time hanging out with his friends recently. He hadn't even talked to Parisa, the girl who gifted him this great book, since the time they'd sat on the bus together.

That needed to change.

Marty: Hey, do you wanna hang out this weekend?

Parisa: yeah ofc

Marty: Cool, what do you wanna do?

Parisa: we could play badminton together

Marty: Yeah that sounds fun 😊