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Mark P.O.V

Mark was pissed.

His day had been going perfectly fine until he noticed that new kid, Sean or whatever, talking to Ashley and her friend in the middle of gym class.

Not just any Ashley. His Ashley.

Okay, so she certainly wasn't his. He could barely pluck up the courage to have a proper conversation with her, never mind finally ask her out. But still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy flow through him as he watched her smile brightly at the other boy. She never smiled like that for Mark.

Well, thinking about it, Mark had never really spent enough time with her to understand what made her smile. What made her laugh? He wondered. What did Sean just say to her that made her eyes shine like that?

Then Ashley walked over to Sean, her face inches away from his. Mark felt a flare of anger spark in his chest, adrenaline shooting through his body. How dare he? Who the fuck did he think he was?

This stupid Irish prick couldn't just walk in here and start flirting with Ashley like he had some sort of right to be there. Mark was currently storming through school, looking for his locker, the bitter thoughts filling his brain the more he let his mind linger on the image of Ashley leaning into the green haired boy, far too close.

And then, on top of that, the green haired brat randomly burst out laughing. Hearing his laughter was weirdly nice. For some reason Mark couldn't help but stare at the Irishman as he let out round after round of obnoxiously loud laughter; there was just something about the other boy that captivated Mark's attention, and no matter how much he wanted to look away, he couldn't tear his gaze away.

The green haired boy was half hunched in his laughter, his eyes crinkling at the edges and his body shaking with barely withheld chuckles. He just looked so at peace. So different to what he normally looked like; all smug and brooding, like he knew something you didn't.

Mark was caught up in the flood of other students who were trying to escape school, rushing to their lockers and out the door in a tsunami of pushing bodies and rock hard book bags. The half Korean ducked to the side, hugging the wall so as not to be sucked back into the chaos that once was the school corridors. He pulled out Jack's note, reading it again.

It didn't really specify any particular time. If he turned up now would he be too early? If he went home and then came back would he be too late? After a few seconds more of being crushed against the painted bricks by other kids he decided safe was better than sorry and set off down a now deserted corridor towards the school's football field with Jack's bag in one hand and his little note in the other.


Mark wasn't really a sports fan. He had only visited the school's football field twice before and both occasions he was dressed in his crappy gym kit 'experiencing something new' with boys nearly three times the size of him. Needless to say, both experiences had been absolutely horrendous and he had no intention to try the goddamn game again.

He knew that his dad was disappointed when he came home the second time, covered in mud and bruises, half dead from exhaustion and declaring his hatred for the sport. He knew his dad loved the beloved game and desperately wanted Mark to love it too. Luckily Carrie was the athlete in their family, taking the pressure off Mark.

Anyway, here he was, trekking across the wide expanse of green grass and white lines towards the raised white bleachers at the other side. As he walked he could see the silhouette of another boy, sitting cross legged on the ground. Mark narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see the boy's face clearly; perhaps he'd seen him around school before, but the shadows clouded the boy's features too much for him to make anything out as he walked closer.

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