Chapter 23: A Cheesy Move Or A Sugar Rush?

            The third rule Marshall taught me about love actually made a bit of sense – which let’s be honest, is a complete first. After we left the coffee shop Jere-Bear was working at, we decided to walk the last block to the mall instead of taking my car. That was where he blurted out his plans to seduce me for the day. It all amounted because of rule number three: love at first sight does not exist.

            “If you think about it, it makes sense. I mean, lust at first sight, definitely. Attraction at first sight, fine. Like at first sight, I’ll even give you that one, but what the hell is love at first sight? I mean, during that split second first glance, what are you actually falling in love with? It’s not me you’re falling in love with. It’s my hair.”

            “Point made,” I said. “But what in the world does that have to do with our date today?”

            “Two things.” He raised up one finger first. “The first thing is that love is made up of two components, the first one being passion. That’s your whole whirlwind romance thing with the heartbeats and the sweaty palms and the deadly attraction. That’s what most people think love is or associate it with.”

            “Alright.”

            “And the second, a lot less obvious than the first, is intimacy.” He caught me giving him a look and shook his head. “Intimacy Camila,” he laughed. “Not sex. Sex would be grouped in with the first. Intimacy is all about understanding and compassion. In cliché terms: that’s the scenario where the two best friends grow up together and fall in love with each other because there’s nobody else that understands them like the way they do each other. They’ve got that unbreakable bond that’s extremely hard to interfere with, and that’s what intimacy is all about: the bond.”

            From the gist of what he was saying, I got what he was trying to say to me: that as of right now there was no way for me to fall in love with him. The attraction or the bond, we haven’t got any of it.

            “So that’s why,” Marshall continued, “we’re going to change that. I’ve been trying to get you during the last week and I think I kind of get where you’re at right now. Since intimacy takes a bit more time, we have to keep working at it continuously. As for the passion, we’ll start today.”

            The mall comes more into view behind the trees that surround the outside of the parking lot as we neared the intersection, and I had to wonder how we were going to create passion at a place like this. The last time I checked, it just had a bunch of shops, a movie theatre on the second floor, and a bunch of kids lounging in the food court with nothing to do. “What’s the goal for today?”

            Marshall lifted an eyebrow at me like he wasn’t quite sure he understood. “Goal?”

            “Yeah, a goal,” I said. “Like a schedule of some sort where we have to accomplish certain things by a certain time.”

            What I said made him laugh for some reasons before he turned back to me with a sarcastic expression on his face. “Alright,” he chuckled, “a goal huh? How about this? By the end of today, Camila will no longer see me as a chair.” 

            “Fine,” I scowled. “I’ll see you as a rug.”

            “Oh come on!” He cried. “You just demoted me! At least tell me I’m a nice rug!”

            “It’s a dirty rug,” I said and laughed when I saw how sulky he suddenly got. I was still caught up in my laughter when he screamed. I stopped to see what had grabbed his attention, but instead was surprised when he grabbed my hand.

            “Ahh! The lights Camila! Run!” My whole body went sailing and my legs did a couple of clumsy stumbles before I realized he was pulling me across the intersection before the lights changed. My legs picked up and we ran across the road together before Marshall shot me a quick smile. “Phew. We made it.”

            “A little more of a warning might be nice,” I muttered, but Marshall only murmured a small ‘hm’ before tilting his face slightly away from me. We continued our way up to the mall entrance and that was when I realized he was still holding my hand in his. At once I shot him a look and he must have realized that I’ve realized because he jumped in his skin just a little before turning his smirking face away.

            My face must have looked like I sucked a bowl of lemons after. I couldn’t believe I’ve been had! I doubt crossing the road before the lights changed even mattered to Marshall. All along he had an ulterior motive!

            I glared at him, but since he wasn’t looking at me, the glare didn’t really serve its purpose. Deciding that it was his win, Marshall started humming and it wasn’t long until he was swinging our hands playfully between us.

            I didn’t know why I let him continue. He’s held my hand one other time – well more like touched – and I wasn’t sure why I didn’t notice it before, but his hands… I didn’t dislike them. They were very authentic guy hands, kind of big and clumsy, and compared to mine, Marshall’s hands were a bit rough feeling, which somehow added this protective feel to them. Curious, I moved my limp fingers and curled them over the edge of his hand. At my touch, his grip tightened around mine, but it’s what he said next that made me tremble.

            “Let’s walk around and go through the southern entrance Mila.”

            My muscles instantly tensed and I felt sick to my stomach. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “Who are you to call me that?!”

            The sudden outburst threw Marshall off guard, but then he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I heard your dad call you that and thought it was really cute,” he mumbled. “Mila. Mila. It sounds like a cute, little girl’s name.”

            Biting my lip, I turned away. Was I being too sensitive over the whole thing? After all, it was just a nickname and I really couldn’t find a reason to tell Marshall that he couldn’t call me that. “You just… You just can’t,” I said. “I don’t want you calling me that.”

            “Why?”

            “Because there’s only two people in this world that call me that,” I grumbled. “The first is my dad and the second…”

            Not that I planned to tell Marshall who the second person was, but he shrugged me off at that point so I didn’t need to continue anyways. “Who cares?” He interrupted. “So there’s only two people in this world that call you Mila. I’ll just be the third then. It’s not like I’m in a competition.”

            “You don’t get it,” I protested, and maybe it was the bitterness in my voice or maybe the look on my face, but suddenly, Marshall backed off.

            “Fine,” he muttered rather causally. “I won’t call you that.” I sighed in relief. “I’ll just call you something else,” he decided.

            “Wait, what?!”

            He smirked at me. “It’s not special anyways if there’s other people calling you that,” he stated. “I’m going to give you my own nickname.”

            “Please don’t.”

            Swinging our hands, Marshall closed his eyes and thought intensely with the two brain cells he had in his brain before bellowing a roar of laughter. “I’ve got it,” he cried. “I’m going to call you… drumroll please… Cam-Cam!”

            “No!” I cried. “Do not call me that!”

            “Aww… But why not?” He made a pout at me as if it would somehow help his argument. “I think it’s cute.”

            “I think it’s horrid!” I shouted, shaking my head furiously. “It sounds as stupid as hell! If you have to give me a nickname, at least think of a better one!”

            “But the next one down from Cam-Cam is Camel,” he said. I cringed and he stared at me thoughtfully before giving me another shrug. “Well, I guess you do have two lumps,” he said, “just not on your back. Shall it be Camel then?”

            I kicked him really hard in the shin.

            Eventually, after Marshall finished whimpering about how hard I kicked him, he decided on Cam-Cam because he said I lost my decision-making ability when I got violent. In response, I didn’t want to hold his hand anymore so instead I stormed ahead with him laughing behind me. “Oh come on,” he would coo after me. “Don’t be mad Cam-Cam.”

            I was so livid that my entire body was shaking. How in the world did he come up with such an idiotic nickname?! It was as if his second brain cell said ‘Cam’ right after the first one did so they decided on Cam-Cam in the end. What a disaster!

            Marshall caught up to me within a few minutes and smirked at me knowingly since he knew I was still upset over it. When we walked through the southern entrance of the mall, I finally gave up the cold shoulder thing and asked him where our next destination was. “Second floor,” he replied and it dawned on me why he wanted to walk around instead of going straight into the mall; we were going to the movie theatre. This way, we can skip all the tedious manoeuvring since you can only reach the second floor through an elevator or an escalator on the southern region of the mall. It was a weird building design, but quite functional minus the minor annoyance.

            Sighing, I led the way towards the escalator. It was when we passed the Candy Factory that Marshall tugged on my arm. “Want to go in there later?” He asked. “You know, after we get our tickets?”

            “You want to go to the candy store?” I asked, making a face at him as he chuckled at what I said. “What’s so funny? You’re worse than usual today!”

            “You said candy store,” he said, and there was no way for me to prepare for what he did next. At first, it was just some innocent humming, which I totally didn’t mind, but then, as if he had this uncontrollable urge to sing, he broke out into song in the middle of the crowded mall.

            “I can’t. Wait another night to see you. Gotta satisfy my sweet tooth. A little like Reese’s. Falling into pieces.”

            People started staring as they passed by so I turned and pretended not to know him. Taking big steps, I took two long strides as fast as my tiny legs could take me, but was shocked when Marshall grabbed my hand and pulled me back into him like some sort of ragdoll. I didn’t even know he had that kind of strength since he’s never gotten aggressive when I have, but within seconds, I was standing beside him like some freak show on display.

            The worst part? Marshall wasn’t the only idiot in the mall! In fact, almost everyone else that was passing by was a bigger idiot than he was, and I heard things like, “aww, he’s singing to her! That’s so cute!” and “Ugh! Watching this makes me wish I had a boyfriend. I’m going to be single for life!” It was absolutely unbelievable!

            Holding my hand, Marshall was pulling me around like he wanted me to dance, but there was no way I was going to do it. “Tell me there’s a way to do this,” he sang, pulling me into him and lowering his face unreasonably close to mine. “I just wanna kiss your hot lips. Girl you make me melt like chocolate.”

            “Marshall,” I hissed. “Stop this! Didn’t I kick you hard enough earlier?!”

            Of course, he completely ignored me before tugging my hand up in the air. “Oh-oh-oh-oh and I really want more-oh-oh-oh. Twirl Camila,” he laughed. “Twirl!”

            “I don’t want to,” I hissed, and I could feel my cheeks going completely red as my body started to move on its own. I didn’t need a mirror. I could feel the heat going through my ears and reaching the bottom of my neck as I did the stupid twirl for him anyways. What came over me, I had no idea.

            He laughed and helped spun me towards the escalator. “And I’m like oh-oh-oh-oh and I really want more-oh-oh-oh. Yeah honey, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen beforeeee. I’m like a kid in a candy store.”

            Right at the end of his little tune, in perfect rhythm, we stopped at the bottom of the escalator and Marshall placed two hands on the sides of my hips before lifting me on the first step. When my feet were placed down on the metal step and we were going up, I spun around with all the rage a person could ever muster in their entire lifetime. “Before you push me down the escalator,” he began, holding back a chuckle. “There’s a kid behind us.” I shifted my head to the side and glanced at the two kids standing a couple steps behind him before turning my attention back to Marshall. “And also,” he continued, “that was kind of embarrassing for me too.”

            “Then why’d you do it?!” I shouted.

            His mouth widened into a cheeky grin before he shrugged. “Well, you twirled, didn’t you?” He asked. “I mean it was embarrassing, but it was kind of fun. You only get to be young and stupid once Camila. Live a little.” I was about to strangle him because I still felt like my head was erupting, but he waved me off like he wasn’t done talking. “Besides,” he said, leaning to the side. “One of these days, you’re going to look back at your dating days and I don’t want to be forgotten. Even if fifty years down the line, and you’ve completely forgotten my face or my name, even if all you remember of me is that one idiot who sang to you in the middle of the mall, wouldn’t that be kind of cool?”

            When he smiled at me next, it was one that I could feel all the way to my toes. Maybe it was because Marshall lived his life in a way that was completely different from mine – in that carefree, careless way of his – because occasionally, the odd wisdom that he had, I completely missed. Maybe I find that part of him attractive, I don’t really understand it much, but sometimes, when he described things like that or when he looked at me that certain way, my heart couldn’t seem to sit still.

            After Marshall got our movie tickets, we took the escalator back down since we had a little over an hour to spare before the previews start. We walked around since it’d been a while since I’ve been to the mall. I mean, I came around every once in a while, but since I was always alone, I came and got out all within an hour’s time. It was neat to see the new shops that have moved in during the few months I haven’t dropped by, but it was a boring stroll for the most part.

            Marshall went and got his candy, but on the way out, he grabbed me and led me down a section of shops before he nodded his head at the place in front of us. “Let’s go in there Cam-Cam,” he muttered. “I’ve never had the guts to go in, but I’ve always wanted to see what it’s all about.”

            One glance and I could understand why he didn’t go, but that didn’t mean now was the right time to do something like this. “There’s just kids in there,” I said, giving him a ‘let’s not’ kind of look. “And their moms.”

            “Please,” he begged.

            I sighed at the name of the shop, Build-a-Bear Palace. “What do you want to know,” I argued. “They probably just give you a bear and let you stuff it.”

            “Then let’s do it,” he shouted, and the excitement on his face is paralleled to a kid on Christmas day. “Let’s make one together Cam-Cam!”

            Ten seconds later, I was standing inside the shop, looking disgustedly at this kid with boogers running down its nose. I had no idea who it belonged too, but my mind couldn’t shake off the fact that Diana would soon give birth to one of these things. “Shouldn’t they… Shouldn’t they put a collar on it?” I asked Marshall as I followed him deeper into the kids’ store.

            Marshall didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, but pointed at the bins of half stuffed animals in front of him. “Which one do you like?” He asked, and I sighed at the sorry sight of the colourful dragons, rabbits, frogs and bears in front of me. All of them had a big hole on their back, which I suppose is where step two comes in: the stuffing. Step one was just choosing the animal you wanted.

            “I don’t really like plush toys.”

            “Well you have a teddy on your bed,” he remarked. “I saw one when I was over the other day.”

            “Yeah, but I’ve had that since forever,” I groaned. “I don’t even remember who gave it to me. Its just decoration.”

            “Hmm.” He paused and picked up a plush horse before setting it down. “I also saw a picture of your mom in your room,” he suddenly mumbled. “I know you said she passed away, but would I be pushing it if I asked you how?”

            I suddenly felt a bit claustrophobic when he asked. It was like the room was closing in from all sides and there was no way of escaping. He gave me that look like I didn’t have to say it if I didn’t want to, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. At least I didn’t think it was. My mom was just really sick, that’s what I thought, but a lot of people didn’t think that – the biggest example being Brooklynn.

            “A- An…” I tried to speak, but my voice didn’t seem to bother with me today, and it took almost triple the amount of energy to squeak the words out. “Anorexia,” I whispered. “She died of severe complications.”

            Even with the screaming kids in the background I noticed how silent it had gotten around Marshall and I, and I wasn’t sure if telling him had been the right choice. It might have been easier if my mom had died of cancer or even in a car accident, but with Anorexia, people somehow thought she deserved it – that her death was her own fault.

            “I’m sorry that had to happen to you,” Marshall finally said. “I can understand why you would hide something like that.” I snorted at him before crossing my arms in front of me. As if someone with his intellect can understand the teasing I had to go through being labelled the kid with the mom that starved herself to death. “She was really beautiful though. I mean, like, in the picture. You look like her.”

            It felt a bit easier after that and my body relaxed as I spoke about her. Even though I didn’t really have any memories of my mom, talking about her while she was still alive always brought a smile to my face. “It’s the only picture I have of the two of us together,” I said. “That was taken not long after I was born. My mom died when I was about one so I assume there must have been more photos – or maybe a couple more – but with the condition she had, I don’t think my dad wanted me to see her like that so that’s the only picture he ever gave me.”

            I told Marshall a bit more after – that my mom wasn’t a singer like I was, but she was a dancer and an actress, and that she made it all the way to Broadway and back. “That’s why I have to make it to Broadway,” I told him. “Every time I step on stage, it’s like I can feel my mom’s presence as I perform, and the feeling gets more intense the bigger the stage gets. I don’t have any memories of her, but I like the feeling of knowing she’s somehow with me sometimes.” I shot him a small smile. “That’s why it’s so important for us to work,” I said. “I’ll fall in love with you no matter what it takes Marshall.”   

            He smirked back at me. “Alright then,” he said. “Pick a bear.”