After opening the front doors, Mark quickly descended the steps, heading for the parking lot, but never got to the car, because a woman's voice called out to him.
"Why are you acting like a jerk?" Out of breath, Alana caught up with the fugitive who, without saying a word, just fled from the school after the last bell. As he did pretty much every day.
"Are you unhappy about something?"
Wood was just torn apart by how he wanted to send the girl away and stop this stupid bet. However, his pride kept him on a leash, like a lapdog. Mark could not afford to lose to Ken Wilmore. Anyone but him. But was this reason enough to scuttle his relationship with Alana?
"Yes, Mark, pretty much everything! We don't go for walks; we don't go out on dates like normal couples do. You don't even answer my calls and messages! I won't even comment on your behavior in public... It's been a month and a half, and I don't know anything about you! Is this what a normal relationship looks like?"
"How do I know what it's supposed to be like? I've never been in one!" His voice increased in volume, and his tone betraying how much he was enraged by this conversation.
"What about your parents? I think one's parents can be superb role models, or not?!"
A light chuckle escaped from Wood, turning into a scornful laugh. Family was nothing more than an empty word to him, and home was the last place he wanted to go back to...
"No," Mark said, suddenly calming down. "Is that all?"
"Okay." Alana paused and swallowed an unpleasant lump of bitterness. Realizing that he was an unhappy and unloved child, she tried to smooth out the unpleasant dialogue. "At least start calling me by my first name, okay? Don't just say "hey", "you", or "mousy". And stop ordering me around. I'm not your servant."
Without answering, Wood turned away to leave, but Alana did not allow him even a step forward, instead continuing to speak.
"Why on earth did you ask me to be your girlfriend?"
These incessant questions really angered Mark, increasing the friction between them. Mark half turned, barely restraining his rudeness, and fixed his arrogant gaze on this annoying supposed 'soul mate'.
How she had angered him! Her voice, from which he was trying to escape, excited every nerve cell he had, and their rare touches, ever increasingly difficult to refuse, completely knocked him off balance. Wood was constantly looking for reasons to disappear after school, vanishing somewhere for the entire day. Three months seemed to him an endless time, which ruthlessly and slowly wound up his heart's mechanism with the key inserted into it. Mark did not like these new feelings that bloomed for this new acquaintance at all.
"I liked you." Mark had to tell her an unthinkable lie, because she started asking uncomfortable questions.
Moore lowered her eyes to the floor, intuitively feeling he was blatantly lying, but she did not want to believe it.
Mark just doesn't understand how to behave, so if you want a healthy relationship, Alana, you need to show him loving another is not so bad... Love is the most wonderful feeling in the universe! Alana mused, and nervously fiddled with the strap of her backpack.
"Where are you going now?" Alana asked, deciding to start small.
"What's it to you?"
"I wanted to suggest we take a walk... Or watch a movie together at my house. My parents are away for a couple of days."
Mark did not want any of this. He did not plan to get attached to the subject of a mere bet, but for some reason, he returned to it more and more often in his mind... Even 'Good morning' messages were constantly ignored, but as soon as they stopped, the need for them exploded, and a little later his fingers themselves typed the message, sending it to the now-familiar number.
Wood shifted his gaze behind the girl and instantly tensed up. Alana did not even have time to react to his strange behavior, as Ken's weighty palm landed on her shoulder. Wilmore gave his classmate a brief hug, which confused Moore and infuriated Wood. Without thinking twice, Mark grabbed Alana's hand and pulled her to him, looking at his friend with annoyance.
Ken never missed an opportunity to establish contact with the newcomer: he tucked her hair behind her ear, then helped her with her backpack and started chatting about all sorts of nonsense, putting Alana in an awkward position, as she was in a relationship. At first, Mark did not care, but over time it annoyed him, and the remarks he made to his friend led to nothing, as if he was talking to a brick wall.
"What's wrong with your face, Mark?" Wilmore grinned, looking with interest at the girl's wrist clutched in his friend's hand. "Is she going to the party too?"
"Where?" Alana asked quietly, turning to her boyfriend.
"Nowhere," Mark said to his girlfriend, still looking at Ken. "Get in the car. I'll take you home." He led the girl to the passenger door of a bright red Buggati Veyron, and then came close to the main bully. "Don't you understand English? Leave her alone! We'll figure it out ourselves."
"Are you in love?" Wilmore asked, standing in a relaxed pose. "We made a bet, don't forget. And to be honest, I want you to win..."
"Why?"
However, the answer to the voiced question never surfaced...
"Alana is waiting for you, and the party is about to begin," Ken defiantly looked at his watch and, grinning, headed to the other side of the parking lot, saluting the excited girl as he passed her.
Mark saw Wilmore openly neglecting old friendships, trying to break into the lead at the expense of others. Sometimes Wood wanted to smash his face to bring him back to Earth, and today's event could provide a splendid chance.
It was getting dark fast outside, but the clock's hour hand had not even crept up to the number seven when the party began to gain momentum. The levels of fun were escalating, and everyone were squeezed in like sardines, yet all this has already made Mark cringe. For the first time, this young man felt out of place, as if he should have been somewhere else, and not there. Sitting on the porch and breathing in the cool air, Wood watched the stars, not feeling the slightest desire to return inside.
He wanted to write to Alana. For no reason... and he blamed the sensual impulse on his alcohol-clouded mind. However, after rummaging in his pockets, Mark could not find his phone and, looking around, remembered that he had left it on the coffee table, but as soon as he got to his feet, the headlights of an approaching taxi hit him in the eyes.
Wood wondered who was late, but as soon as the passenger door opened and the blonde got out, his sense of unpleasant surprise was immediately replaced by irritation. In one leap, jumping over the steps, he went up to the taxi at lightning speed, whistling for the driver to stop. Alana stayed where she was, not knowing what to expect next. Judging by the reaction she saw, it would not be a happy encounter at all.
"What are you doing here?" Mark growled indignantly. The confused girl did not even have time to get a word in, as she was roughly turned away from the house. "Were you called here? No? Then get in the car and go back!"
"What are you doing?" Moore asked indignantly and removed his hand, freeing herself from his painful grip. Mark again gently pushed Alana on the shoulder, pointing away from the party. "Stop pushing me now! You're acting like an animal! Maybe you can explain what's going on? First, you write asking me to come, and then you send me back right from the doorstep. What's up with you? Are you all right in the head?"
Such impudence infuriated Mark, and, not yet knowing how to behave in such a situation, he simply retreated. Taking his wallet out of his back pocket, Mark silently pulled out several large bills and casually tossed them to the girl.
"That should be enough. Now get out of here..." He turned around and headed into the house.
Alana remained motionless, staring into space in a daze. She was wildly horrified by the shameless behavior of the man who took the first step in their relationship. Her eyes were covered with a shiny film, holding back the wall of tears, ready to burst out after the offense he inflicted on her. She had to put an end to this. This was not a relationship between a guy and a girl, it was something else entirely. Moore respected herself and knew her worth. She knew what 'normal' meant from seeing her parents every day. She knew that she also deserved a meaningful and beautiful love, like in the movies. For sure, Alana was not going to serve anyone.
Only in Cinderella does a rich prince fall in love with an ordinary townswoman. Mark was as stale as an old crust of bread. He did not even try treating her as his girlfriend, nor did he put any effort into the relationship. Not a drop of romance. Why did he keep up the pretense? Alana did not understand and did not even want to figure it out, deciding right there to break up with Wood tomorrow. Without looking at the money lying by her feet, she turned around and, getting back into the taxi, left with a heavy heart.
As Mark approached the house, he noticed Wilmore was looking out of the window quite intently. Of course, there was no doubt about who made Alana Moore appear at this fucking party. Going inside, still intending to rearrange the face of his impudent friend and putting him in his place, Wood overheard an unpleasant conversation from the kitchen. Although the music echoed off the walls, the gossips shouted at each other to be heard, which gave them away.
"You just missed it, man! Wood refused his girlfriend, and she left in tears."
"Did they break up?" another voice asked with incomprehensible interest. Mark went to the open doors to look at the speakers. The guys were well acquainted with him, as they often crossed paths at school, but at the moment, none of them noticed him behind their backs.
"I don't know. I'm really shocked he started dating her."
"Why? It makes perfect sense to me: compared to the others he's been with, she's perfect, a natural beauty. But if they break up, I'll gladly take his place."
Mark's insides clenched uncomfortably, reminding him this was the first time in his life that he could lose something, and he did not like it. Leaping from the shadows, Wood shouted angrily at his potential competitor.
"Do you want to compete with me?" he screamed as he closed with his opponent, hoping for an answer. The negative energy made his palms itch horribly, causing his fists to clench and unclench involuntarily.
"You're toying with her, and your whole bearing shows you dislike her!"
"That's my business, and you better shut up before I do it for you."
"She's going to leave you anyway..."
These words triggered the attack. Swinging, Mark struck a hard blow on the other guy's face, sending him staggering back, spitting blood. Only for a moment, then the victim leaped at him and a fierce fight ensued. People ran to the kitchen to separate the enemies, but this did nothing to calm the violent Wood.
He instantly switched to Ken, wanting to thoroughly smear him on the nearby furniture. Unfortunately, he could not to get to him, because another friend intercepted Mark just in time.
"What's wrong with you? Take it easy!"
"I've just started, Stephen..." Spitting out these words in the face of the man who was holding him, Wood turned his gaze back to his enemy.
"Dude, it was a joke," Wilmore said, hoping to foolishly justify himself with a conciliatory gesture. "I admit I made a mistake. I didn't take into account you have problems at home because of this relationship, and your mother is constantly finding fault. Really... I'm sorry..."
"Sorry?! You're sorry?! What the fuck?! You want to know if I feel anything for her? Yes, for fuck's sake! I do! And all because of you and your constant pressure!"
"Mark..."
"To hell with you all!"
Pushing his friend away from him, Wood took the phone from Ken and left the stuffy room, where the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies made him want to puke. At the party, he did not want to drink at all, knocking down a couple of watered-down glasses of whiskey merely to steady his nerves. Not that it worked. Sitting in the car, he wondered for a long time where to go, going through all the places in his head. Anywhere, except home. Without thinking about it further, the young man started his car and drove through the streets of the city.
The road led Mark to one of the residential areas he had already visited today. Parked in front of the stairs leading to a three-story dark-red brick house, he did not dare to get out of the car for a long time. How could he look Alana in the eyes after what he did to her, and showing up with a broken face, too?
I wonder what she's doing? Sleeping or shedding tears on her pillow? Well, am I going to go to her and tell her I'm sorry? I've never apologized to anyone in my life and I won't apologize to Moore for a long time... Wood did not understand what the hell had brought him here. He got out and greedily inhaled the fresh air, stretching his joints, because constantly mulling over all these thoughts in a confined small space was starting to bother him.
Spitting on the ground to get rid of the iron taste in his mouth, Wood noticed out of the corner of his eye how a light came on in a first-floor window. Without a conscious thought, as if hypnotized, he approached the stairs, and then, barely moving his leaden limbs, he went up to the door. He did not have the courage to do more, so he plopped down on the porch in despair. As fate would have it, he misjudged and loudly hit his head against the door, after which he mumbled with pain. He got punched in the face pretty badly during the fight, and now his head hurt.
Meanwhile, upstairs in her room, Alana had downloaded the movie The Gift. She had wanted to see this for a long time. Now she had a great opportunity to immerse herself in a made-up world, relieving her stress by eating a tub of ice-cream. The girl went down to the first floor and, turning on the light in the corridor, went to the kitchen for her delicious life-saving snack. Grabbing a small bucket and a tablespoon, Moore headed for the stairs, and jumped out of her own skin from a loud knock by the front door.
Maybe it was just my imagination? It was the first thing that came to mind, because the street was quite quiet and the neighborhood was generally very nice. However, these thoughts immediately evaporated as the sound of someone's miserable groan followed.
Putting the jar aside, Alana quickly found the rolling pin in the kitchen and quietly headed for the door. Her heart was beating an impossible rhythm, increasing her inner tension against the background of her wild fear. Sweaty palms made it a struggle to keep her grip on her improvised weapon. Looking through the peephole, she saw nothing except a familiar car parked across the street. Succumbing to a sudden rush of emotion, Alana unlocked and jerked the door open sharply, almost tripping over the collapsed form of Wood.
"Mark? What are you doing here?" After looking closely at the young man, Alana was horrified by his appearance. "What's wrong with your face?" She put her fingers to her mouth as she bit her lips, deciding what to do: should she help, or will he get up himself? Leaning more towards the second option, since Wood was clearly annoyed by her touch, Moore thought to sting him slightly: "Get up, stop lying here at my feet."
The girl hoped to hurt the guy's ego, after which he would instantly jump to his feet, but she only heard a chuckle. Mark was in no hurry to leave, continuing to lie on the porch and look up at his pseudo-girlfriend. Smiling like a fool, he could not believe her words did not hurt him even a bit. Alana rolled her eyes in disappointment, detecting the sharp smell of alcohol. So, he's just drunk...
"Either come in or leave. It's freezing outside, and you're without a coat. If you're dead-set on catching a cold, it doesn't mean I have to get sick.
Wood reluctantly got into a sitting position, and then got to his feet and went inside. Looking around the simple but cozy interior of the first floor, Mark found himself thinking that nothing annoys him here. Meeting with Alana at home caused a storm of emotions, igniting his inner fire even more. Her movements were smooth and measured. She moved calmly and quite confidently. The tight bun of hair on her head with some loose strands and her plush-fabric clothes made her nearly irresistible. Exquisite, natural... Moore differed greatly from any of the other girls in his circle, and people were right about that.
Mark was so lost in thought, he came to only at the sound of fingers clicking under his nose, bringing him out of his trance.
"Apparently, you hit your head quite hard," Alana said and looked at him with a squint, completely ignoring the piercing gaze of his brown eyes. She pointed to the living room, saying in a commanding tone: "Go sit on the sofa, and I'll go get the first aid kit. I think I should also put the kettle on."
Obeying the voice, Wood twisted his face in displeasure, still resisting his inner feelings. It just couldn't happen to him...
After a while, Alana returned with a small box and lay everything out on the coffee table. Sitting next to the guy on the sofa, she treated the wounds he had suffered in the fight. Feeling a strong burning sensation on his lip, Mark hissed like a snake and jerked his head sharply away.
"Oh, come on. You're acting like a little boy. Be patient, it will be over soon," Alana said. Completely unaware, Alana gently blew on the affected area, with no specific intention, doing it purely automatically.
Her actions shocked Mark so much, he immediately forgot about the pain. Mark shifted his stunned gaze to the girl, not understanding why she behaved like this. Especially after the way he treated her today in front of that unwanted audience.
At the party, Wood was really very angry, but not at the fact she had shown up, but at himself, at his incipient jealousy, which suddenly overwhelmed his head as soon as Alana got out of the taxi. There were enough reasons for this, because Mark repeatedly noticed other guys gazed at his 'girlfriend' with interest. Even that bastard Wilmore did not hide it by putting on a friendly mask. What Ken was trying to achieve with his dastardly actions, Mark still could not understand...
Wood wondered if Alana had experienced something similar, something warming inside her from his touch, or if she got excited just from hearing his voice, as it happened to him. Mark could no longer fight with himself in his attempt to resist the pleasant feeling brought about by her taking care of him. It's a worry he had never had before. Not even as a child...
Simple attention or sincere interest in him as a person and as a partner gradually tamed the young man, bringing him to his knees before an extraordinary pleasure. Now he never wanted to lose her, dissolving into her, as if in narcotic-induced euphoria. For the first time in his life, Mark really needed someone...
Grabbing Alana by the wrist, Mark looked up and told her to stop when she finished with the last cut on his eyebrows. Alana stopped when she felt Wood slowly drag her hand closer to him.
"You didn't send me away..."
"I know," Moore replied weakly, struggling with the fog of unwanted intimacy. Then she tried to pull her hand away, but Mark wouldn't let her do it and leaned even closer.
"Why?"
"Because you're injured."
"Is that all?" Mark yearned to hear different words. He let out a sigh of disappointment, his breath touching Alana's lips, those beautiful lips that were just an inch away from him.
This quickly restored Alana's sanity. She pulled her hand away and returned to her original position, looking around the space in confusion. Then, in a state of extreme embarrassment, she put everything back into the first-aid box and jumped to her feet, heading for the window.
"After graduating from high school, my dream is to go to Harvard and then continue my studies at medical school. Perhaps I just have an instinct to help people."
Annoyed that the kiss never took place, Mark watched with displeasure as the girl moved further away from him. Deprived of a new sensation, the young man became infected with an incredible excitement, and he wanted to show special tenderness to a person for whom he felt something more than brief, simple sexual attraction.
Mark followed Alana, but stopped abruptly when his head was pierced to the point of pain by those unpleasant words that caused the fight...
"She'll leave you anyway..."
"Don't you need to go somewhere?"
"I'm already where I need to be," Wood replied, deciding to ask a counter question: "What happens next?"
"You can leave if you want. I won't send you away like you did..."
"I don't want to go..." he said and came close to her. "And that's not what I was asking. Do you still want to be with me?"
The question caught Alana by surprise, and from the touch of his torso against her back, her thoughts scattered like rabbits into their holes. Her tongue seems swollen, as if she had an allergic reaction, not allowing her to pronounce her previous decision. In his presence, she was already losing her mind... Especially when, a month and a half later, he himself came to her...
Mark slowly hugged Moore with one arm and pressed her to him, and with the other, he pushed her hair aside, exposing her neck. He liked to feel power and submission, to feel the vibration of a trembling body. Bending down, Wood touched his lips to her skin, and instantly melted from the inside with pleasure. The desire to dissolve in the soft velvet of a kiss prompted him to move further towards those desired lips.
"Don't rush to answer," he whispered excitedly. "Let's start again..."
After that evening, everything changed, and Mark realized he needed Alana... For real, and he did not give a damn about the fucking bet...