Welcome back to my little story!!! :") It's been a long time!
Other than usually, I want to say a few things a the beginning of this rather than at the end. please do read it. It's IMPORTANT!

First, it's always this way, isn't it? Writing something turns out to take a lot longer than you think. At least for me that's usually true.  So despite wanting to finish this chapter on this weekend - as you can tell from the missing title - I didn't. Shame! But I wanted to stay true to my word of publishing on this weekend, and one COULD end this chapter where this ends, so I thought I'm just going to publish this as it is now, and later take it down again, add the rest ( plus a title XD) and publish it again. <3 As a result, this is a little shorter than usual, only 1,986 words.

Second... About Michael. I've asked at the bottom of the last chapter if it bothers you that he's not in all the chapters, and a handful of readers have told me that, yes, indeed, it does bother them.

When I first published this story, it was categorised as "ChickLit" not as "FanFiction".  Because it's about Marilyn, and how she and her life change because of Michael. The change in category was later forcefully made by Wattpad. Because Michael Jackson is in it. And if a real person is in it, it is by their definition a FanFiction. Now, FanFiction readers have a very different definition. They feel that if it's a FanFiction, it should be mainly about Michael Jackson. Do you see my predicament?

Yes, I admit it. I write stories in a border area. I believe that you can read this story as a Michael Jackson fan, but I think that you can read and enjoy it, too, if you're not a fan. Because I hope that there's more to it than just the possibility to coo over a star. Hopefully, there's a story, too. (He does appear in 14, 15 if you count the first one, out of 19 chapters, by the way.)

I'm truly sorry, if it annoys and tires you that Michael doesn't appear in all the chapters. Really, I am! The storyline isn't designed so he could be in every chapter. The only option would be to stop telling this story. And that doesn't seem fair to the people who weren't bothered. Please understand. :)

Kisses and Cookies,
Birdie <33

~~~~~

When Marilyn went to her locker after second period to put some books away and get her things for her next class, Brian, Peter and Thomas were in the same hallway, actually right opposite her locker, playing a game. With a foot they had drawn a smeared line in the dirt on the floor and from there were throwing pennies against the wall. The one, whose penny came to lie closest to the wall got to keep all pennies in the game, if none of the players wanted to risk another coin to challenge the penny closest to the wall. And then the game started over until the bell rang or they ran out of small coins or a teacher came and put an end to it. The game was considered gambling for money, and was thus not allowed, but change was always available, and so all efforts to supress or punish the habit had yet to show any effect. It was a common pastime among guys at school.

Marilyn hated the fact that they were out in the hall in front of what she believed was Brian's and Thomas' next class. She didn't know why Peter was hanging around there as well and wondered, if he had no class to go to and no other place to be. But there he was almost every day hanging around a classroom he had no lesson in – hanging around Brian and Thomas, as always – and close to her locker.

It was a shame that it was just outside that particular classroom. The school was big. Couldn't it have been somewhere else? But this hallway was considered practical for her, because she could pass through it a couple of times a day going from one class to another and so it had been assigned to her. But why did Brian and Thomas have to have class right opposite it? Could they not have been given a class on the other end of the building – on the moon, for all Marilyn cared?

There were days, when she would go to her third period, then tell the teacher she had forgotten to go to her locker and ask for permission to go after the bell had rung, Thomas and Brian were inside their classroom and Peter had disappeared to wherever he went for third period. But she couldn't do that every day, and only lately had the teacher scolded her for always turning up without her belongings.

Marilyn had considered to take everything she needed for third period already to her second period, and she had actually done so at times. But the problem was that her third period was an advanced art class, and she had to bring all her expensive pencils and tortillions. Taking all that to second period wasn't only unpractical, is was also dangerous. She was worried someone might accidentally or even intentionally drop her pencil sets, and their insides would break, leaving her in need of new ones. They had been a Christmas present from her parents, and Marilyn didn't feel like having to replace them. So there she was at her locker putting all her books away and filling her bag with her drawing utensils, while Brian, Peter and Thomas were throwing coins against the opposite wall.

They were so preoccupied with their game and seemed to take no notice of Marilyn, who kept her back to them. But just when she was making sure the already damaged History book wouldn't fall out next time she would open the locker, she heard Brian's booming voice echo over the sound of other students rushing down the hall.

"Ugly-Edmond!" he spat.

She pretended she hadn't heard him.

"Ugly-Edmond!" This time he called even louder. People were starting to turn their heads. "I know you hear me! Don't pretend!"

Marilyn closed her locker and turned to walk away. After the whole thing with Mr Smith that morning and Brian listening to it all on top of it, she was in no mood for any crap from him.

But he wasn't gotten rid of as easily as that; with two quick steps he blocked her way. "What is the matter with you, ugly-Edmond? Are you not only stupid but deaf, too?"

Marilyn tried to walk around him and continue down the hall, but he blocked her way again. "I'm talking to you, ugly-Edmond! Where do you think you're going?"

"Class, Brian. This is a school," she said in a low voice, not looking at him. "Let me pass. I have a long way and I don't want to be late."

"Oh, you don't want to be late, do you?" His face was closer to hers than she liked and she took a step back.

"You know what, ugly-Edmond? You're a disgrace for my English class. You're so stupid, and you're bringing the whole class down with you. We can't study with you around. We are supposed to support each other, to learn from each other by bringing new aspects to the lesson, but all you ever do is show your stupidity. And the teacher has to try over and over again to explain the simplest aspects to you in the hope that maybe, just maybe you'll get it, too. But you never do! Don't you realize how annoyed the Mr Smith is with you and the fact that you're bringing down the level of studying for everybody? How annoyed he is about having you in his class? Aren't you ashamed? Why are you in that class, anyway? You're writing Fs! Are you enjoying spoiling other people's education with your annoying presence? Do you know how hard I studied for that test we were given back today? And still all I was able to achieve was an A –! Because of you! Because the teacher never has time for the really important aspects of the lesson, because you don't get the basics!"

"Your grades have nothing to do with me. Why don't you study harder if you're never satisfied with them?" Marilyn said trying again to pass him and failing.

"What do you know about that, ugly-Edmond? Nothing! So don't talk! I so study hard! But you bring us all down! That's why nobody likes you. Because you're stupid and you bring people down with you."

"Yes, Brian, I didn't study for that test and I failed it. Serves me right. But if you studied as hard as you say and you still don't get the full score, then who of us is the stupid one?"

"You," said Thomas plainly.

Marilyn's head snapped around at him. She was hurt and embarrassed and angry with Mr Smith for talking to Brian about her. And angry with herself for failing the test. And angry with Brian for speaking so loudly that random students passing them could hear that she had failed a test. But she wasn't prepared to deal with Thomas, too.

"Oh, I really think you have enough of your own problems to mind!" she hissed.

Thomas crossed the hallway in two steps. The expression on his face was dangerous. "Are you talking to me, hm? Well, what are you trying to say, ugly-Edmond?"

Marilyn took a step back and shrugged. His furious reaction surprised and scared her.

He closed in on her. "Don't be shy now! You were having such a run a moment ago. So what exactly were you hinting at?"

"Move off, Thomas."

"Or what?" She was with her back against the lockers and couldn't back away farther, and his face was so close now she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Or what?"

She didn't dare to look at him but at the same time she was – too proud, maybe, to turn her face away. Or maybe she just didn't dare to show fear, either, lest she's encourage him. So she looked passed him. Over his shoulder she could see the posters lining the opposite hallway. And among them were his and Josie's, hanging next to each other, separate cardboards but made to be inseparable by sharing the headline. Thomas' poster read 'Prom King and', while Josie's continued 'Prom Queen 1976' written in the same glitter paint.

"Or I'll scream."

"Nobody here cares about you, ugly-Edmond." Thomas waved at the students passing them by. "Nobody cares about a pig squeaking at the slaughterhouse. Matter of fact, they all like sausage!"

"Touch me and I'll scream the house down," Marilyn said, louder. "I'll bring out every teacher in every classroom in this hallway. I'll bring out the guidance councillors and the office. And among my crying they'll make out your name. A guy who hurts a girl. Let's see if they'll think you're fit to be prom king this year again, then!"

"Maybe I don't care?" He laughed. A fake, nasty laugh. "Oh, of course for someone like you that must be unimaginable! That someone could actually like you. That is unimaginable! But for me that's normal. Maybe I don't care half as much about being prom king than I care about giving you a rubbing right now?"

Marilyn looked straight at Thomas. "But I think Josie does."

"Josie?" Peter laughed from somewhere. "Maybe he doesn't care about her, either!"

"Don't talk about Josie! You hear me? Don't you dare talk about her!" Thomas was still unpleasantly close to Marilyn, but he hadn't touched her. She wasn't even entirely sure if he was talking to her or to Peter.

"Josie," she added slowly, with growing confidence and growing malice, "said, you're planning a football scholar ship. I wonder if the school will find a guy who hits a girl fit to be captain of the football team?"

"I didn't hit you, idiot! I never hit you! Don't you go and tell lies! I bet you'd like that, though, wouldn't you? But I won't touch you, ugly-Edmond. Because I didn't bring my rubber gloves!"

"Yeah, he'd never touch you, ugly-Edmund! Not without no rubber gloves!" Peter echoed. It was as if he was trying to be part of a conversation that didn't involve him at all.

Thomas ignored him. Marilyn thought that was a great idea and did the same.

Brian tugged on Thomas's arm. "Man, don't let that ugly bitch get you in trouble. She ain't worth it."

"Yeah," Marilyn moved to sip away from between Thomas and the lockers. "So I'll just be on my way, then."

And as she did, Thomas kicked her shin. Not hard, but hard enough so it hurt.

"Ouch!" Marilyn said. Loud. Not by far loud enough to bring any teachers out from their classrooms, but loud enough for passing students to turn their heads.

"Oh, come on!" Thomas seemed suddenly defensive. "Don't pretend! Stop looking for attention! I wasn't that bad."

Marilyn gave him another look. "Pay for my book!"

Just in that moment, the moment the first bell rang and Marilyn realised she would have to really hurry if she didn't want to be late, Josie detached herself from the flow of students in the hall, her books in her arms pressed against her chest. She had taken off the apron from the Indian Elephant. "What's going on?" she asked looking from Thomas to Marilyn to Brian and back to Thomas. Peter seemed to have left.

Marilyn wasn't sure if she would have liked it better to discuss the situation with Josie herself than to leave it to Thomas, but she had no choice. She as very late. She turned – and almost collided with Nathan who was just closing his locker. He was grinning. "He had that one coming for a long time!" he said.

"Yeah," Marilyn answered, "he did." And as she hurried passed him, navigating around other students, she briefly wondered what had made Nathan come out of the woodworks all of a sudden, twice in one day, just as she was starting to fend for herself.

...

~ to be continued ~