111: Chess

Marie

Like I'd once said I would, I decide not to leave Armand unawares. Now that I'm going steady with Dawson, I have to cancel my date with Armand for Friday. He's really not going to like this.

I go to his house and see his feet sticking out from behind some flowery bush thing. I walk around it to find the rest of him. He's leaning down cutting at it. My eyes are immediately drawn to his biceps. Whatever Armand's faults, his body sure is nice to look at.

Stop it, Marie.

"Hello, Marie. I didn't expect to see you today, especially this early." he says to me, his sunglasses reflecting my image back at me. I look unsure of myself.

"I couldn't sleep. What are you doing?"

"Pruning. Every time my parents would hire a gardener they'd trim things back too much. I'm not going to let these babies get destroyed as well." He studies me for a moment.

Who would've figured Armand as a botanist? He really is proud of this house. Oh, this is not going to be easy.

His eyes return to the ground, and he stares at it for a while while I wonder what on earth to tell him that won't set him off.

"So, how was Dawson?" he asks bitterly. He twists so that he's sitting on the ground, looking up at me.

"Um, he's fine." I hate watching myself in his glasses so I look away.

"You didn't. Please tell me you didn't!" he suddenly says harshly.

I take a worried step back. He tenses up.

"Do what exactly?" I try to make him clarify.

He exhales and looks up at the clouds before returning his gaze to me. "Marie, is there a specific purpose to your visit or are you just visiting to visit?"

I take a deep breath. You got this, girl. "I'm going to have to break our date for Friday." Gulp. "I'm going steady with Dawson. I'm sorry." I say in a very controlled, plain voice. Suddenly I'm glad he's wearing the sunglasses because I get the feeling I don't want to see his expression.

"So that's it then. 'See you later, Armand; I'm tossing you out with the garbage'." His voice sounds bitter as he says what he says. He reaches up and runs his hands through his hair agitatedly, putting his hands into fists occasionally.

"Why?" he asks me, sounding hurt now.

"He ... he wanted a chance. So, I'm giving him one." I watch as Armand shakes his bowed head.

He stands up quickly and folds his arms. I'm glad again for the sunglasses. They save me from some of the power of his glare that he's surely giving me.

"You're giving him a chance, you say. That's a waste of time with that idiot." he says and his words cut through the air like knives aimed right at me.

"He's not an idiot."

"Oh yes he is! When we were friends I kept him around for comic relief." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other as I try to come up with something else to say that won't escalate this fight that's starting. "Is that it, then? Is that it? You feel like you've got to take care of the idiot? Not happy unless you have someone to nurture and you don't like Ben all that much because he reminds you of Greg, whom you didn't like."

He has me pegged on the Ben thing. He thinks I'm nurturing Dawson?

 I feel mildly uncomfortable.It's unnerving how Armand understands me. I quickly run my hand through my hair as he stands there, waiting for me to answer.

"He's a grown man. He doesn't need nurturing." I finally say.

"Oh yes he does. He has 'little lost puppy' written all over his face. S---, Marie! That's not for you! You'll get sick of that. It's one thing to nurture a child, but a whole different thing to do the same to a 'grown man' as you call him."

"Dawson doesn't need that." I say obstinately. "He's just... not very smart, but then again, neither am I."

"I have to hand it to him, though," Armand continues his rant, "he's apparently smart enough to steal you from me."

"You make me sound like I'm a thing and not a person!"

"Cut the crap, Marie. You know good and well that's not what I meant." he says in an admonishing manner. "Marie, stop and think for a minute what you're doing."

"Oh? What am I doing?" I ask with mocking innocence.

He stomps up to me, and I have to hide my face from his glasses. "You're making a mistake, that's what you're doing!" he says, and I think he runs his hands through his hair again as I can feel him staring me down.

This is awful.

"You know what, Marie?" he continues. "You are just like your mother. You didn't like Greg, right? Dawson is your Greg. He's your idiot."

"No, Armand." I retort. The comparison to my mother stings. What if he's right? He usually is. I can't let that happen. So, I have to just stick to one guy, and, at least right now, that's Dawson.

'At least right now'? Listen to me! I am my mother! She may not have been my birth mother, but I've grown up to learn to act just like her. So, does this mean I'm doomed to have a nervous breakdown as well? That woman is insane, and I'm just like her. I have to stop the craziness in it's tracks.

"Marie, look at me." Armand interrupts my thoughts. 

I realize my hand is wet. I was crying?!? I pull my hand back and stare at it in confusion. I look at Armand. He's put his sunglasses away somewhere, and he's looking at me with a bewildered expression. I sadly laugh a little to myself. I made Armand confused. Yay me! 

Well, who can blame him for being confused? I'm not myself today. I'm Elena. Standing here effing crying like a weakling! All I came to do was tell Armand I can't date him anymore. I guess I should've expected him to try to find some way to hurt me back.

Armand wraps his arms around me, and I'm instantly wary of him. He acts like he's just trying to comfort me, the weakling, though. 

That thought brings on another wave of tears. I'm losing my mind!

Armand pets the back of my head, occasionally running his fingers through my hair. If he loves me like he says he does then why search for the one thing that will hurt me this bad?

This is why I didn't choose you.

He tries to pull me even closer, but I push back against him. I feel the sun starting to warm my back as it slowly rises. Even though I push against him, he stubbornly keeps a hold of me.

Armand speaks quietly to me, "Marie, please! I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean for you to be hurt like this. I was just trying to think of something, anything to stop you from going steady with him. Anything. But hurting you wasn't my goal." He pauses for a minute before he continues, "I don't think I've ever seen you cry. C'mon, where's my strong-willed Marie with a core of steel?"

"She's turning into her mother." I mumble into my palm on his shoulder.

He takes in a huge breath of air and sighs it out before turning his head a little to kiss my cheek. I stiffen warily. "I'm sorry, Marie. You're not your mother. You could never be your mother. You're nothing like her."

I decide to go ahead and hug him back, as long as it's just a hug. His fingers running up and down my spine worry me, but right now I need to be comforted for once. I need to not do this. He's going to get the wrong idea. Too late probably. 

He succeeds in pulling me closer before he whispers in my ear, "Please don't do this. Don't abandon me like this." He has a death grip on my ribcage.

Son of a b*tch! How dare you try to guilt me into breaking up with Dawson!

"I'm not abandoning you. I'm just not dating you." I say before he sighs roughly and leans down to start kissing the nape of my neck. Oh no you don't!

I surprise him by pinching him -- hard. In the split-second it takes him to react to it, his arms loosen enough to allow me to break loose. Unfortunately, I don't get far before he grabs my arm.

He jerks me back against him. I back away but he holds my face in his hands. I struggle with him for a moment as he tries to turn me to face him. He finally gives up and speaks into my ear instead.

"Marie, I love you. I've never loved anyone but you. Nobody else can say that, can they? And I'll always love you." Stop it! "Think about what you're doing! You and he won't work!"

I have difficulty talking with him holding my chin, but I do anyway, "Dawson has never hurt me. You have. Many times."

I could easily, easily break the hold he has on me, but I have to admit I'm a little curious as to what he has to say. 

He puts his thumb on my mouth in a silent attempt to tell me to not speak. Suddenly I can picture what's happening right now as it appears in his mind. He's probably imagining us in a game of chess or something, each of us trying to top the other's move. What he doesn't realize is that he's lost before he's started.

"Give him time, Marie. Give him time, and he will. Think about it. He had a girlfriend yet flirted with you every opportunity he had?" Armand mumbles low in my ear.

I fold my arms and refuse to look him in the eye. "I'm going to give him benefit of the doubt. I don't think he will. I don't even think he was flirting with me all those times like you say. You were just insanely jealous of my friendship with him."

"Oh, but he wanted more than friendship."

"Well, he didn't do anything to make it obvious."

"I'll tell you this, Marie." he says as he leans in like he's about to kiss me. I silently ponder where I could best punch him should he try. Hm. Well that's an easy decision. Armand continues, "I'll make him just as insanely jealous as he made me. The second he makes a mistake, I'll be there."

"And what if that never happens?" I ask.

"It will." he says and irritates me that he sounds so certain.

I shove him. He lets me go.

"Armand, don't waste your life waiting."

"I won't. He'll screw up." he says adamantly.

I have an urge to grab hold of his head and shake some sense into him. For being so smart he sure can be obtuse sometimes.

"Agree to disagree then. I'm sorry, Armand. I'll see you around."

I watch as a split-second look of pain crosses his face before he masks it. He merely nods.

Queen makes a move. "Check."