Marisa Monologue

(Jazz’s Point of View) “Can you help me?” she pleaded. I squinted my eyes at her skeptically. “Please, I want to change, Jazz. I don’t want to keep pushing people away from me anymore, I don’t want to be this unhealthy all the time,” her voice wavered a bit. Her usual electric blue eyes seemed heavy and tired, the color was almost like an ocean on a cloudy day.
I met her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong Marisa, I really want to help you quit smoking, but everytime you ask someone for a favor, something they own ‘magically’ disappears. Don’t you think that’s a bit strange?” I put air quotes around the word magical. Putting my hands on my hips, I lifted my eyebrows.
Marisa Fabrero suddenly seemed very interested in her black leather, high heeled boots.
“You will?” Her entire face lit up, almost as if she had little christmas lights in there. Actually, hold up, that’s a scary thought. Nevermind.
“But only on one condition.”
“Yeah?”
“You have to talk with Janey about what happened, you can’t keep avoiding that subject,” I urged, throwing my hands in the air to show my urgency.
Her face shifted into a longing expression, then distress, and then spite. She sneered, revealing her yellowish teeth. Her eyebrows knitted, her eye color becoming a dark, stormy blue-grey once again. I could almost see the lightning. Yikes.
“You know I can’t do that,” Marisa’s voice cracked a little, and her eyes narrowed at me. A few seconds of silence passed. The next thing she said came out as almost a whisper, so quiet that I almost didn’t hear it. “She probably doesn’t even want to see me again,” she quietly scoffed, rolling her eyes. I just stayed where I was, silently protesting her stubbornness. She slumped, and sat back down in the plastic chair behind her. Marisa put her head in her hands and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“You have to talk about it at some point, you guys can’t keep avoiding it forever,” I debated, slightly