Author's Note: There is a scene, or rather two scenes, in early season four of Edgemont between Mark and Laurel that I always loved.
! SPOILERS! For those of you unfamiliar with the show, Mark and Laurel were deeply in love, but a lack of trust, and constant misunderstandings caused them to break up at the end of season three. When they return to school in season for, things are extremely frosty between them. Then, Laurel, who is smart, driven, and has always done well in school, is assigned by her advanced placement French teacher to tutor a student from the remedial lab, and is assigned to tutor Mark, who was always a bit of a slacker when it comes to school. She tries talking to the teacher, but she cannot get out of it, so she has to tutor him. The interaction is this episode was beautiful, especially for fans of this couple, so I decided to do a one-shot to show what was going through their minds in these two scenes.
Also, Maggie is Laurel's roommate, and I reference something she said to Laurel last episode about the breakup.
Disclaimer: Edgemont is not mine, and obviously, these spoken lines were taken from the actual episode, however, the thoughts and narration are mine. Enjoy and please review.
Tu Ne Rappel Pas J'aurais Tu Fais Pour Toi?
Laurel and Mark One-Shot
Laurel sat across from Mark, trying not to think about how hard it was for her to be near him right now. Maggie had been right last week, even though they had broken up, even though it would never work out, even though he had broken her heart, even though they would never learn to trust one another, she was still crazy about him. She had been talking in a voice that was as detached as she could make it. She was tutor. He was student, that was that, she told herself. Lied to herself would be more accurate, an annoying voice thought. She pushed it back.
"Regular verb cogitations are e, es, est, ons, ez, ent, but several commonly used verbs have the irregular verb conjugations."
Mark listened to her, hearing a note of condescension in her voice. "You do know this isn't my first French class?"
"Madam Deno told us to review the basics," Laurel said, and there it was again, that hint of condescension. She never had seen him as intelligent, had she? No, he had no promise. She was brilliant, and he was the idiot she was stuck tutoring. He could almost hear her thinking it. He knew she hated being here, felt it a waste of her time. He could read it on her face.
"Sorry if this is boring you." he said, chuckling, trying to erase the tension, not let her see how inadequate he felt.
Laurel looked at him. Why did he always have to make everything so personal? She was trying to get a job done, to ignore all their baggage, and he was trying to make them talk. It was just like in the beginning, when she had to take his picture for the school calendar. She had been trying to get a job done, and he kept trying to talk to her, to find out about her, to get close to her. Mark always needed to control the conversation. And she was never quite able to resist his attempts. But that's in the past. We broke up, and this is just and assignment. She told herself. Liar. "Just write the down, okay? Être -to be, auxiliary verb," she knew the annoyance was creeping into her voice, but she could not help it. How could her and Mark ever be anything to each other except lovers and enemies. Except we were never lovers either. Not technically. She had loved him, but they had never gotten that far. She tried to shake such thoughts from her mind as she continued, "je suis, tu es, il est, nous sommes, vous êtes" she tried to calm herself down by thinking the translations as she said them, I am, you are, it is, we are, you are…
Mark smirked, "I knew you always hated tutoring me so…" he said, his tone defeated, as he thought of how she had tried to help him with, Othello. That had been one of the last things they shared, right before everything came crashing down. He saw Laurel's face grow sad, frustrated, and heard her mutter something under her breath,"Tu ne rappel pas j'aurais tu fais pour toi?"
Mark looked up, concerned, "Wait a minute, is this part of the lesson, or what?"
Laurel shook her head, her eyes still sad. "No, um, just review avoir and être, okay?" she said. Then she got up and left. He stood there, feeling confused.
He searched for hours, trying to remember the words perfectly, looking through his book, translating, realizing he had gotten it wrong, then translating again. Finally, it was done. He knew he had done it right, and he could not believe what he had discovered.
Laurel was sitting at a worktable, reading and taking notes when Mark approached her. She looked up, and he held his research, his prize, carefully in his hands. "I, uh, did the conjugations." He said, nervously. He could feel the lump in his throat. Was he brave enough to do this? "I just have one question."
"Can't this wait for our next tutorial?" she said with a little laugh. Never had she expected Mark to be so eager to learn. Maybe he's just eager to spend time with you again. No, she could not let herself think that way. Mark had given up fighting for her, and she was glad for it. Because they were over. Because she needed them to be over.
Mark sat down, placing his backpack over the chair. "Is this what you said? Tu ne rappel pas j'aurais tu fais pour toi" Laurel felt her heart stop, and she wanted more than anything to be anywhere else. Yet, here she remained, as he continued with the translation, "don't you remember I would have done anything for you?"
Mark looked up at her, questioningly. He looked at her hard, with those eyes that could break her heart, just by staring at her own.
She shook her head, not because he was wrong, but because she needed to unsay what had been said. "Just forget it. I didn't think you'd actually translate what I said."
Mark smirked, "Why not, 'cause I'm too stupid." He said, falling back on his old, I'm the idiot, you're the arrogant princess ways. Laurel looked at him, frustrated, angry, yet willing him to understand. She needed him to see that she had never seen him as an idiot, but more than that, she needed him to understand how much he had hurt her, "No. Because you don't usually make an effort when things get hard."
He got a confused look on his face, "Only, I'm the one with a job that breaks your back, and you get paid a fortune standing around getting your picture taken." He was a little angry now, but she knew it could not compare to the rage and pain she felt inside. He was always the victim, always blaming her, when she had given up everything for him, and she had never asked for these things to happen to them. She had not asked for his parents to split, his dad to refuse to pay alimony, for him to have to get a job to support his family. Nor had she asked for some talent scout to decide to put her in a magazine over the summer, and she certainly had not enjoyed being poked and prodded, told what to do, when all she had ever wanted was to be behind the camera, not in front of it. But that was Mark. He could play the victim flawlessly, but when it came to actually taking responsibility, he saw himself blameless. He would blame everybody else, but never himself. She had always known that, so why had she ever bothered with him? Because you love him, a voice said, but it still did not change who he was, or what he had been implying.
"So now everything about your life is my fault?"
Mark put his hands up, dramatically, "No, that's not what it said. It's just … " Mark took a deep breath, "You know, I think I'll get someone else to tutor me." he said, as calm returned to the table.
"This is an assignment." It was all she could think to say.
"Don't worry." He said, smiling that same charming smile she had fallen for so long ago, "Madam Deno doesn't have to know."
"Mark-" she tried, but he cut her off.
"We've had some rough times. But you know what I remember? All the great stuff." He got up, and pulled his backpack back over his shoulder, "and I want to keep it that way." And then he was gone. And Laurel just sat there. Thinking about all the great times. Thinking of all they had been through. Thinking about how she had loved him more than anything. Thinking about how she would have done anything for him. Tu ne rappel pas j'aurais tu fais pour toi.