Girlfriend On Mars

33. "When I think of you"

Thirty Three.

"When I think of you." 

Marley began a process then, that she felt was healthier for her and something that would help her realise her love wasn't right. She began to put distance between them. It started with just saying she was busy, and leaving early after practices, then she started to occupy her time with Stephen and then she stopped picking up the phone to Jen all together.

With the realisation that her love was horribly one-sided, Marley attempted to dull it down, hopefully until it was nothing. She started to wish that Jen wasn't the person she loved, she wished she'd fallen for Stephen or Fran or anyone who was less painful to care for. She wanted easy and happy, not jealous and harsh.

Jen had noticed. Sadly so, and the irritation and anger were indescribable. She'd hang up the phone after being ignored and feel pathetic, like she was begging as if she was worthless and the feeling weighed on her. She'd groan and throw whatever was beside her—a pillow, her phone, a mug, crockery. She felt she'd be much calmer about it if she wasn't aware that she was being purposefully ignored, or if she knew Marley was studying or something innocently busying. But she'd seen Marley, in the shop, in cafes, simply walking, with the boy Jen had come to loathe without reason.

The Olvera boy had soaked up all of her time, and Jen was beginning to worry that Marley had gone away forever. She was worried that her ignorant behaviour had created an uncrossable gap between the two girls—the beginning of a parallel course, and then Jen wondered whether they're always been on a parallel pathway.

Jen thought that it must have been easier for Marley. To be able to be close in public, to not have to worry about being seen by people from school, to have someone acceptable at her side. Softly handsome, big teeth, kind eyes Stephen Olvera was acceptable, in every sense of the word—everything that Jen Archer wasn't. She was outcasted, disliked, rude and arrogant, someone Marley Rhodes was not to be seen around. And for the first time, that thought hurt Jen.

But to be rid of that pain, Jen did what she believed was her only option: smoke and be in the company of women. Though she couldn't bring herself to have sex with any of them, for some reason, just being around those kinds of women gave her satisfaction. So, a few nights over, Jen was sat with Fran and Hamilton in a stranger's back garden with three girls that nobody seemed to know. Two of which had been eyeing Jen all night.

"You're moody again." Fran said quietly beside Jen's ear as the others talked among themselves.

Jen groaned. "Hmm, am I?"

"Yeah, I can tell, you've been so cranky all night. Issues with your girl again?" Fran teased, letting smoke drift from between her teeth.

Jen clenched her teeth, shaking her head. "Not my girl, and no, I mean it—I'm fine."

"Mm, okay." Fran hummed then leaned up nearer to Jen. "How about Erica, she's been flirting like mad. She's your type as well."

Jen glanced up at Erica, pretending to consider her. The girl was in fact what she'd usually label her type: busty, caked up, easy, desperate. A few months ago, a night like this one would have been good for Jen, smooth running and worry free. But she had stress lines etched into her proportionate forehead, and the grooves didn't seem to be fading.

Erica smiled back at her, and Jen was surprised to see that it wasn't a sultry smile or an inviting one. It was friendly and kind, and Jen cringed at what she'd called her mentally. She felt it was completely unfair how she was acting but she couldn't seem to get a grip on her emotions.