Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~

Punches Thrown

-- Mark --

Hearing Jack play for a few hours was well worth the lecture I got about being late to home. Of course, it bothered me somewhat that I had disregarded the authority of my father, but at the same time, I really didn't care. One thing I did care about was how much time Jack and I had been spending together.

We'd been spending more time together than normal couples. We were attached at the hip and it was overt that nothing would change that - especially after everything we've been through. Skipping detention, skipping school (well, skipping lunch), abandoning a warehouse full of young renegades and cops, being chased home by a group of people who were "Phobics" as Jack had called them.

It was all worth it. The bad times were all worth the good. Mostly.

The two hour rebuke I got from my dad was worth it even, and I hate being lectured on how I live my life. I've always hated lectures, but since I started hanging out with Jack, it became more noticeable. Used to, I would keep my head down and not say a word - I was timid, if I remember correctly - and now I'll cross my arms and roll my eyes like nothing fazes me. Nowadays, hardly anything does. I guess it comes with the rebel I hang around.

Even with all the rage in the world, my father barely hurt my feelings when he "gave up" and stormed off. Thomas tried to talk to me some, but I had taken my fathers exit as a reason to excuse myself from the room as well. If he could storm off, why couldn't I?

So that's where I am now. After I kicked my shoes off and slammed my door shut, I collapsed on my bed. Anger filled my veins as I thought more about my dad and brother. Yes, maybe I was being a little over dramatic and, yes, maybe I deserved to be scolded. Maybe I needed to get my ass kicked and then I would realize that it wasn't so bad after all. But no, I was too stubborn to see it.

So I lay here. I lay here wondering what Jack may be doing at midnight - would he be asleep and ready for the next school day, or would he be on his phone watching YouTube? I lay here looking at the glowing stars that were stuck to my ceiling. I lay here... Thinking. Sure, I had plenty of time to think. However, most of my thinking was done at night. It was easier to concentrate due to the silence. I could actually keep my thoughts organized. I could keep everything filed and accounted for. I could think separately about everything instead of jumbling everything together, which really helped me in more ways than one. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about America and how much I missed its sunny weather. I thought about Ireland and the endless amount of rain that poured over the little country. I thought about all of my friends back home (Bob, Wade, Daniel, Etc.). Most of all, I thought of Jack.

I thought of his sky blue irises and faded green hair. His smile and the way he laughed. I thought of the last time we kissed and how my veins sang in delight. I loved receiving his affection whenever he held my hand or kissed me. It made me feel safe. Like I finally belonged somewhere. I wasn't alone anymore.

I hoped I never would be again.

•••

Tuesday morning was quiet. Rainy. It was actually peaceful as I walked through the doors. A few whispers and stares, but that was now the norm for Jack and I.

Speaking of Jack, where was my Irish clover?

I made my way through the halls and into Mrs. Drakes home room, searching desperately for bright green hair and sky blue eyes. No sign of him. I quirk an eyebrow in curiosity as my eyes scan the mostly empty room. I decided that I did want to know where he is, but I also couldn't risk being late to class.