pretty boy // rodrick heffley

twenty nine

I didn't ask him about it again. He didn't really seem affected by it, but it still felt wrong. I guess, he never really met his uncle so that would explain why he wasn't really upset about it. I stare into my locker, sliding my things into my backpack and throwing my jacket on.

"Ready to go?" Rodrick asks, slipping his arm over my shoulders. He takes my backpack from my hands and slings it over his own shoulder and I quietly thank him.

Toby waves to me as Rodrick and I walk toward the door. Then I hear in a not-so-quiet whisper. "She actually came back."

Another one follows it. "Evidently she's living with him now."

I could feel Rodrick glance down at me and I just put my eyes down. If I pretended not to hear them, they would stop.

Then another on the other side of the hall. "I heard she's pregnant."

I could feel my face heat up as another remark quickly corrected the previous one. "I heard she aborted it."

It wasn't until someone started to call me slutty followed by the beginning of a racial slur that I felt Rodrick's arm slide off of me. He set my backpack on the ground and charge at the boy. As Rodrick's hands slammed into his chest, pinning him against a locker, the boy's face changed from one of disgust to one of fear.

"You wanna finish that thought?" Rodrick asks.

"No," the boy shook his head.

"Then shut the fuck up," Rodrick says, slamming his against the locker again before stepping away from him and picking my backpack up. "All of you can shut the fuck up."

He slowly slips his hand in mine as we start walking toward the door again. "Rodrick, what the hell was that?"

"He deserved it," he answers. He quickly opens the passenger's side door for me and I climb in. He's silent as he starts the van and pulls out of the parking lot. "You've done nothing nothing to them."

"High schoolers are assholes," I shrug.

He glares over at me before looking back at the road. "Yeah, I guess they are."

"Is Christmas really next week?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah, it is," Rodrick answers.

"Oh," I sigh, looking out the window. I used to love Christmas. My whole family would get together and my cousins and I would come up with dance routines to perform for everyone on Christmas Eve. Then in the morning we would open presents and play Quarter Stack, which was entirely made up by Gramma. She would wrap a roll of quarters up and hide it in the branches of the tree somewhere. Whoever found the stack of quarters first got to keep it - I usually lost that game. I wonder if I could go home for Christmas - if my mother would let me come back.

"Hey, don't worry. My mom already got you a present," he smiles, patting my leg.

"Oh no," I shake my head. "I didn't get anyone presents."

"No, that's not what I meant. You don't have to," Rodrick starts.

"Yes, I do! It's Christmas," I argue.

"Marleigh," he says, grabbing my hand. "I promise, you do not have to get anyone presents."

I nod before looking back out the window. We stop at the middle school to pick Greg up and him and Rowley climb in the back.

"Hey Marleigh," Greg smiles. "How was school?"

"It was good Greggy," I lie. "How about you?"

"Rowley didn't get pushed in a locker," Greg answers.

"And Holly said hi to us at lunch," Rowley tags on.

"Who's Holly?" I wiggle my eyebrows.

"Greg's girlfriend," Rowley laughs before Greg punches his arm.

"Shut up Rowley," he mumbles. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Not yet, huh?" I tease him.

"Don't worry Greg. She'll fall in love with you soon enough," Rodrick jokes. "Us Heffleys have a way with girls out of our league."

"I'm glad you recognize that Marleigh is out of your league," Greg replies as Rodrick parks the van in the driveway. The boys get out and I look over at Rodrick.

"What?" He asks.

"You think I'm out of your league?"

"Please," he leans forward and kisses my lips softly. "I know you're out of my league," he kisses me again, his hand gently holding my neck. "But I'm working on being the best me. Just for you."

"I'm honored," I smile, kissing him deeper. He slowly pulls away, dropping his hands into his lap.

"Okay," he sighs, holding onto the end of the word. "Let's go inside."

"Is everything okay?" I ask. "Did I do something?"

"No, nothing wrong," I laughs. "I -uh- let's just go inside."