-- Mark --
Its a legitimate two hours later. Its six in the morning and its been two hours since Jack has downed his first shot and right now, he's buzzed as hell. Not drunk, just buzzed. He's sitting on the couch beside me, clinging onto me and giggling uncontrollably. What he thinks is so funny, I have no clue. I could hardly believe we made it here, but here we are. Half a bottle of whiskey, two more levels on SOTC, one drunken conversation, and two hours later, we're sitting so close together that I can feel his breath on my neck. He's leaning on me and laughing his head off at whatever he found amusing while I sit there like an idiot. The movie "Hitch" is playing on the TV and I'm struggling to understand how Will Smith is such a good actor (whereas I would probably screw up every line) while I stand like a fool, my acting skills beyond rusted. Jack continues to giggle and laugh. He pokes me in the sides and chuckles. I have no clue what's going on, but I think I like it. Other than the fact I have to deal with Sir Giggles, I'm enjoying this. At least until Sir Giggles begins poking my side and telling me this hilarious story.
"... A-and then I," he lets out a laugh, "... I fell over into this lake with K-Kellin strangling me," he gasps for air because he's laughing so hard, "... And I'm p-punching him in the face."
I mindlessly chuckle every now and again about this ongoing fight between him and Kellin. This is too cute. Him clinging onto me as though I'm the only thing he cares about. I watch every move he makes; every time he snuggles closer to me, putting his head into the crook of my neck with a laugh; every time a breathless laugh escapes him and no sound emits, so he's just sitting there clapping like a mentally retarded seal; every single tear that escapes his eyes because he's laughing so hard; every time he runs a hand through his hair. It's all so perfect.
He's perfect.
Right now, nothing could ever persuade me to let him go.
•••
When the time came, I had to gather up my stuff and go. It was disappointing, but we had fun. The video games, him getting drunk, the comfortable silence and exchanged glances at the dinner table. The one thing that wouldn't leave my mind was the kiss.
He held me so close to him that there was no space left in between. I was comforted by Jacks natural coffee and rainwater scent. I was at peace with the warm feeling and the nature of his acts, whereas I would normally worry about if he were going to become a criminal overnight. Every worry faded with one simple touch of his lips on mine. I worried about absolutely nothing where normally I'm worried about every little thing - most of the time it feels like every atom in existence depends on my next move - and one wrong step can blow the entire universe into oblivion. Yet, I felt no worry when I was in his arms.
However, no matter how safe I feel with Jack, I feel every worry in the world as i sit down in first period beside this Felix kid. Jack sits diagonal to my seat, making me a little more uncomfortable when Kellin takes his seat in front of me.
I show no fear - well, I try not to. I swear that Kellin can sense fear from a mile away and it only makes him dress for the kill; he's always poised to strike and he's got a vice like grip around my neck with every single look flashed my way. Just a look from him suffocates me into fear.
The four of us sit in silence until the bell rings, forcing our eyes to the front of the class where Mrs. Drake stood with a new student. He looks familiar but I can't put my finger on where I've seen him. Black hair, tan skin, dark eyes, and a nervous expression. He had a hoodie on. Wait a minute, I saw Jack wearing that hoodie less than a week ago! Realization hits me in the face as I mentally slap myself out of my stupor.
"There's the guy who spilled coffee all over my jeans." I mutter, leaning toward Jack as I speak.
Kellin knocks me with his elbow, sending my back into my seat with a clatter. Felix lets out a gasp of shock, jumping back so quickly that his desk slides with him. Before I even know what happens, Jack has Kellin by the throat and the two are nose to nose. Jacks bright blue eyes have a burning fury inside them, and I knew that Jack was a ball of rage. The growl in his voice was evident as he spoke.
"Don't you fucking touch-"
"McLoughlin, Quinn, Fischbach! Detention! All three of you!" Mrs. Drake called, making Jack release Kellin from his death grip. Kellin coughed and sputtered a moment before regaining himself. Then again, the two in front of me wasn't what I was worried about.
Why did I have detention? What had I managed to do that deserved two hours of my free time to be taken by punishment? I was the victim here. Kellin had just victimized me!
It was probably because I hung out with Jack. I stayed around the wild child who never bothered to learn right and wrong; the child who never learned the rules and how to abide by them. If anything, I was guilty by association and association only.
My thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Drake muttering something - "it's always the same few boys" - and then turning to the new kid.
"So many new students," she said to the class in the annoying ear-splitting tone of hers, "introduce yourself." She told him, not giving him the option I had. I remember how I helplessly hung my head and whimpered that I'd rather not talk about myself. I looked similar to this poor kid here.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and scratched his neck.
"Umm, hi. I'm Nate. I'm 16. I'm from America. Get to know me and you'll learn the rest as we go." Nate said, looking down at his feet and scraping the toe of his shoe against the floor.
Mrs. Drake looked kind of disappointed that there wasn't more to him than that. She just smiled warmly and directed him to Sam's group, not to far from our own group.
"Okay, today's the day that we need to decide who plays what." I said, scraping up my papers in hand and smiling hopefully at everyone. "I play guitar." I say.
"I can play bass." Felix added. He grinned happily, ignoring a death glare from Kellin.
"I sing." Kellin mutters quietly. However, the one person I was curious about didn't say much. Jack just played with his sleeves and didn't speak.
"Jack?" I ask him softly. He sighs before looking up at me in despair.
"I play the drums."
-----
Random and sucky ending, but in tired. I love you all and hope you have a happy thanksgiving.
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