Merry Christmas everyone! I know this is a bit late and not finished and probably riddled with mistakes but hey, it's Christmas. I'm working on Mark's part and hopefully it'll be up before the New Year. Read, enjoy and review please.
A Little Late
"Sarah, sweetie are you sure you don't want to come?" Mom asked me as she walked in, fiddling with her earrings. I glanced up from my spot on our comfy couch and smiled at her outfit. Mom stood there in her best Christmas outfit, a red blouse paired with black pants. Her light blonde hair was left down, framing her face lightly. Her face was lightly dabbed with makeup, making her features glow in the soft light. She walked over and gently stroked my loose blonde hair. "We can wait for you to get ready."
I thought of my Christmas outfit in my closet. It was a scarlet red dress that I would pair with my black tights and knee-high dark brown boots. I sighed, knowing it was collecting dust in my closet but I plastered a smile. "It's fine Mom." I repeated for the fifth time today when I told her I wasn't going to her co-worker's party. Tonight was Christmas Eve and like every year, we were invited to the Goode home. I couldn't go this year though, knowing where their precious son was. Dressed in my well-worn sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, I wasn't in any way ready for a Christmas party "I have piles of reading to do anyway." I added waving my hands over the pile of books my English teacher assigned us. The tyrant does not understand the word holiday.
"It won't be the same without you." Dad said as he entered the room, wrestling with his tie. He was Mom's perfect accessory dressed in a crisp blue button-up and slacks. In his arms, he held two thick winter coats and scarves Corey and I brought our parents last year. He kissed my head lightly, scratching it with a bit of his stubble.
"I know, it's it wonderful." I scowled when Corey walked in dressed in his jeans, black button up and winter jacket. "People will finally stop flaunting over you." What ever happen to my sweet little brother? I thought as I looked at the annoying brat. Over the summer, Corey somehow shot up a foot or so. Not only did he grow taller but his voice dipped a tad deeper and arms grown from scrawny thin twigs to strong limps. He morphed from a sweet though annoying thirteen years old into a cocky fourteen year old. He smirked as he ruffled my hair, creating knots. "Won't that be a nice change, huh Sis?"
"Shut up Corey," I ordered as I stood up to walk them out. "Maybe you can finally find the courage to talk to Lisa." Corey's cocky smile slipped off after I mentioned his middle school crush. His face flushed red, almost matching Mom's blouse. "Won't that be a nice change, huh little bro?" His mouth twisted into a scowl and he tried to retaliate if Dad didn't shove a beanie over his messy blond head.
"Ok, stop bickering you two. It's a blessing I won't have to hear you two snapping at each other the whole night." He tugged me close, engulfing me in his warmth before kissing my temple. "It's difficult to believe you two used to be sweet little children." I rolled my eyes. We were way past sweet.
"Blame high school," I whispered back before kissing his cheek goodbye. "You don' know what those girls are corrupting him with." Dad chuckled into my ear before giving me one last hug and helping Mom to the car. Corey, instead of following our parents, hung back in the foyer, messing around with his gloves and hat. "Ok, munchkin, what's up with you?" I sighed as I straightened his collar. I half-expected a glare for being all motherly-like with him but instead an almost timid look stared back.
"Do you still have Mark's number?" He blurted out. I blinked not exactly anticipating that to come out of Corey's mouth. He knew what happen between Mark and me. I can see it plainly in his dark blue eyes he inherited from Dad. I looked past Corey's tall frame to see Mom and Dad waiting patiently for him. They must have known he was going to spring this on me. "I love you and everything, Sarah but sometimes, I just need a guy to talk to." He continued, fiddling with his gloved hands. My fingers curled around the rail of our stairs and looked away from Corey, thinking about Mark for one second; sweet Mark with his easy smiles and constant need to make things right. I smiled, knowing if Corey needed a role model, I would have handpicked Mark despite our history. "I know you two aren't together anymore after the John fiasco but you're still friends, right?" The John fiasco? So that's what they call it. I thought before sighing.
"I'll see what I can do." I promised before pulling him into a tight hug. His sudden growth sprint caused him to tower over me by a few inches. Ruefully, I wrapped my arms around his waist. "Go on, Mom's waiting. Don't cause too much trouble."
He smiled; a smile I know will break a few girls' heart in the near future, and kissed my forehead before dashing out. "Oh yeah, I can't be called a munchkin if I'm taller than you." He shouted, sticking out his tongue before shutting the car door with a slam. I snickered and waved goodbye as they pulled out and braved the snow storm that was descending down on Paradise, Ohio.
When the door's lock securely clicked, I gazed at our quiet house. It felt cold and empty now that everyone was gone. Marching over to the couch, I pulled the fleece blanket over my lap and picked up a heavy book. My eyes skimmed the same words over and over again but it wasn't going in. This isn't working, I declared as I shoved the tome away. It hit the coffee table, knocking the remote off and turned the television on. The modest screen flickered on before a newscaster appeared.
"The Paradise father-son team of Henri and john Smith seemed to disappear completely off the FBI radar. The two are wanted for blowing up the local high school, falsifying documents and kidnapping Sam Goode. The last known sighting of the illusive pair was of the son, John Smith, in southern Texas. During the holidays, we send our hearts out to the Goode Family for enduring these tough times without their oldest son. Again, if there is any information about the pair, please contact – " My finger jabbed the power button and I sighed, feeling the headache. There is no way homework is getting done.
After jogging up the two flights of stairs, I reached my attic bedroom. The room was littered with random photos. The slanted ceiling had pictures of everything: Emily and me making silly faces at the lens, Bernie curled up asleep, a sunflower. But there weren't any photos of John and me. I've burned them all when he left Paradise, Ohio with Six and Sam. It was the only way to keep him safe from the FBI or else they would have concrete photo rather than a fuzzy sketch. Stop thinking about him, I shouted to myself before shoving a few empty film canisters off my desk and dropped my tome of a history book. Underneath the clutter, I gasped as I looked at a scrapbook Emily and I created in our freshmen year of high school.
The leather bound book few opened revealing a page filled with things football related. The main photo was a picture of Mark, Dan and Cash, the three reasons why Paradise High won State. They sat there in their football gear, chuckling over something. My fingers moved and lightly traced Mark's face in the photo. He was so much younger than now, either in his sophomore or junior year of high school. His hair was messy, dripping with sweat or rain. Dan had him in a headlock as Cash dumped a cooler of ice into his shirt. The three were laughing their heads off, frozen in time but I could almost hear their rough laughter in my ears, feel the piercing cold of the crisp fall day, and smell the clean cut grass of the field. This was their first victory, I recalled before shutting the album and toss it away. But the stubborn album wouldn't move, sitting there openly reminding me of what we could have been.
"Stop thinking about the silly boys," I scolded myself, needing to hear the order instead of imaging it. Plopping myself on my bed, I grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to my chest before gazing at the sky light above. It was sadly covered with a thick layer of snow, giving the impression that I was buried underneath the pure white wet substance instead of in my warm bedroom. Unwillingly, my eyes wandered over to the photos. I know I wasn't able to keep photos of John but there were still things that had his memory connected to them like a blue sky that looked just like his eyes, a jack-o-lantern from fall festival, and a failed home eco project he ruined. I stared at those images until they were burned into my memory before closing my eyes and attempted to conjure up his handsome face.
A crooked smile, I thought trying to imaging a strong chin, boyish features that slowly maturing, blond tresses falling over his eyes. But I couldn't. I couldn't see his attractive half smile or his stunning blue eyes. I couldn't make out his facial features like before. "John…" I whispered, hugging the pillow closer to my chest, feeling my heart thumping against it. The face in my mind didn't have a half-smile, teasing blue eyes and blond hair. It was longer face with a shy smile, strong mature features with searching dark brown eyes and neatly trimmed hair. My eyes flew open but I already know who I was dreaming of. "Damn it… so much for not thinking about boys."
Things between John and me have been rough, worse than rough. The first few months apart stung like a burn but similar to a burn it scabbed over and still hurts if pressure is applied. I blame people, insensitive people with no idea what actually happening to the world around them. After John accidently blew up the high school, we were all shipped off to local schools. Almost every school tried grabbing the golden boy of football, Dan, Cash and Mark. I wasn't as lucky. I was separated from Emily and Mark, being shipped to a different school all together. Somehow, the juniors and seniors just knew I was Sarah Hart, the girl who fell for John Smith, terrorist extraordinaire. Their comments were ruthless and intentional, slicing into me like knifes. It ranged from 'How could she date a terrorist?' to 'she probably knew…'
"What happen to us, John?" I asked the snow-covered sky light. "No, I know what happened to me but what about you? Why did this have to happen to us?" Truthfully, I know these are silly questions. The question I was avoiding was why did I, Sarah Hart, have to fall for him, John Smith? Of all the guys in the world, I had to fall for one out of this world. "I could end it…" I muttered as I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fiddling with the screen lock. It was always an option I toyed. He was theoretically a phone call away. Just one button and I could end this future-less relationship. But… I don't want to be that girl, a girl who harmlessly throws 'I-love-you' around without understand the meaning. I love him. I love John Smith. "John, I love you but it's not enough to keep you here." I growled and closed my eyes, tossing the phone into my closet.
The phone smacked something hard and a huge pile of clothes tumbled down. Moaning, I pushed myself off the bed to clean up the mess and stopped. "That's…" Sitting on top of the mess was a gray sweatshirt, three sizes too big for me. The capital letters on the back were slowly peeling off but I could still read the name. JAMES 10. "Mark's football sweatshirt." I crouched down, pulling the sweatshirt off the pile and hugged it to my chest inhaling the stale smell of moth balls but underneath the overpowering smell I could detect a hint of grass and cologne. "Mark…"
I am one sad girl, I thought as I peeked at my mirror. My blonde hair was a mess, sticking up and falling hazardously into my eyes. The sweatshirt I was currently wearing wasn't flattering at all. Sapphire eyes I was proud of were bloodshot and tired from nights of studying and stress from college apps. And here I am, crouching on the ground, hugging an ex's sweatshirt while pinning over my long distance relationship. A sane person would stand up, burying the sweatshirt underneath other things and get on with their lives. I didn't though. I lifted the thick fabric and hugged it close, trying to remember the warmth it provided years ago. I don't care.
I gave the sweatshirt a hard squeeze when something hard jabbed my stomach. Reaching tentatively into the deep pockets, my fingers felt a hard edge of something. I pulled out the object, revealing a thin pocket size notebook. The cover was made of durable leather with no real writing on it. A simple ribbon kept the book closed, hiding its contents from my curious eyes. I haven't seen it before which seems impossible since Mark must have given me this sweatshirt almost a year and a half ago. Sighing, I leaned my back against the foot of my bed, thinking about that snowy day in great detail.
"You're so lucky Sarah." Lucy whispered into my ear. I spun around to observe the senior girl behind me. She stood there proudly in her warm jacket and tight jeans. Her light brown hair was tied up while her green eyes wandered over to where the football guys were standing, chatting as a few left to head home. I followed her gaze and noticed how her eyes landed on Mark before she licked her lips seductively. It made my skin crawl unsettling; she was looking at my boyfriend. "Mark is certainly delicious."
"Yes and also taken." Emily quipped back as she appeared beside him, hands on her hips, glaring at the older girl. Her luscious red locks hung loose, curling at the ends. Lucy looked unaffected by her and continued smiling at Mark. "So stop mentally stripping her boyfriend." Lifting her lithe shoulder, Lucy looked nonchalantly as she sauntered over towards the guys. Emily's nails dug into my arms as we watched. "God, I hate her."
"At least she's not mentally stripping your boyfriend." I whispered back as Lucy placed her hand on Mark's arm. He turned with a smile that twisted into a slight frown. I don't blame her though; I thought as I unconsciously noticed how well Mark fits in his clothes. The jeans hugged his tone legs just right, not to tight but not baggy either. He wore his football sweatshirt with his name and a huge 10 on the back, reminding me how broad his shoulders and back were. "Come on, let's rescue the guys."
"Dan and Cash are enjoying the attention a little too much." Emily commented as we headed towards the group. The guys were openly ogling at Lucy's larger-than-life rack as she continued speaking to Mark. Unlike his friends, Mark kept his eyes on Lucy's face and answered her questions with a polite smile. His eyes flickered over towards us as we approached and there was a pleading look in his eyes. I smiled and he mouthed 'help me.' "He's so adorable."
"That's great Lucy, I'll keep that in mind. Sarah!" Mark shouted as he stepped out of Lucy's hold and wrapped his arms around me. "Thank you for being my girlfriend." His breath tickled my cheek as I leaned up and kissed him lightly, making sure Lucy was watching. Mark smiled into the kiss but pulled back before I could deepen it. "Mmm… and much more."
"Ok, she's gone now so you can stop making out." Cash ordered as he kicked Mark's leg. I blushed into Mark's chest as he flicked his best friend off. The guys laughed at the crud hand gesture before they continued their chat. "Anyways, since its winter break, do you want to head to the diner and celebrate?" Knowing my face wasn't as bright red any longer; I pulled away and smiled at the guys. Dan and Cash were juniors, same as Mark. Like most football guys, they had broad shoulders and thick strong bodies. Dan was shortest out of the three, with his dirty blond hair and cheeky smile. Dan was the joker out of the three. Cash was the tallest with his black hair and teasing brown eyes. He usually has a bored expression except on the field when Cash truly shines.
"I can't handle these lovebirds any longer." Dan announced as he slung his arm around Emily's shoulder, pulling her close in a friendly hug. The two traded smiles. Mark, Cash and I have a running bet when they would get together. They were inching dangerously close to my deadline which was New Year. Cash shrugged his shoulders and leaned against his black truck his dad loaned him. Mark, just to bother his friends' I suspected, leaned in close and nipped my ear before whispering into my ear.
"Giggle like I'm saying something sexy." He said, eyes shining and arms pulling me even closer. I giggled, batting his arm, playing along with his plan. Dan groaned dramatically and buried his face into Emily's shoulder. Cash, who I believed was more in tuned with Mark, rolled his eyes and got into his car, getting the hint we wanted to be alone. "I think we have to pass." Mark answered, wrapping his arms around my waist and rest his head on my shoulder. I naturally leaned into his warm chest as Dan ushered Emily into the warming truck.
"You could have said something sexy." I teased as we watched the truck pull out of the school roundabout. Mark released me and I frowned when the biting winter cold replaced his warmth. He took my backpack despite carrying his heavy football bag and slung it over his shoulder with no hint of the heavy weight. His left hand wrapped around my right, incasing it in a bit of warmth. "You football guys are a huge distraction." I muttered remember how many times Anna had to redirect them to pay attention.
"Hmm…"
"You know what I mean. Anna is going to ban you one day." I threaten. Mark smirked, probably recalling the murderous glare the senior girl gave him today when he jogged by to give me a little kiss. He effectively stopped practice for five minutes as I tried to stop blushing. "I'm serious!" I repeated, trying to pull away but his grip was firm and instead pulled me closer. The smell of the grass from the football field, soap and a hint of his cologne invaded my nose, enveloping me in a warm familiar feeling. His rough chuckle rippled through me before he spoke.
"That's what makes it so funny." He replied, turning into my neighborhood. "I know Anna would bite my head off if I interrupt another practice. Kent is a bad influence on me." I smiled as Mark leaned down, kissing my lips slowly and leisurely. My eyes slid closed, smiling into the kiss which was sweeter than any chocolate I've consumed. "It's your fault for being so irresistible." I cupped his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off him and curled my fingers around the collar of his sweatshirt.
"You're so cheesy." I muttered before opening my eyes and tugging him toward my house. The cool air filled my lungs, freezing my insides. The streets were empty creating an illusion like we were the only people in the world. I clung to Mark's warm left hand firmly, attempting to soak in his intense warmth. "It's too cold." I complained, pulling my scarf up to cover my face from the cold.
"Sorry but I can't turn off winter." Mark replied smiling at me before getting a far-off expression on his face. "What are you doing for Christmas?" He asked. I could hear a bit of nervousness in his voice despite his attempt of hiding it. This was our first Christmas together as a couple. "It'll be nice if we could spend it together." I beamed at the idea. Snuggling up with Mark by the fireplace, watching old holiday re-runs and counting down the seconds before Christmas day, it appeared to be a perfect Christmas day. I opened my mouth to agree but frowned when I recalled what my parents were planning.
"I can't." I admitted, feeling even worse when Mark's hopefully face changed into a sad one. "My parents were planning on going to Colorado to visit my aunt and spend Christmas with her. We're leaving tomorrow." Mark nodded his head in an understanding manner and we continued our walk in silence. He wasn't holding my hands though and I could feel the cold seeping into to replace his warmth. I tugged at my coat awkwardly, not sure how to fix the natural flow. I realized how short our walk was when Mark stopped in front of my door, placing my bag on the deck. This was the only opportunity I have to fix whatever happened.
"Mark…" I said, turning to address him but instead something warm wrapped around my shoulders. His arms wrapped around my neck and I could feel his warm chest against my back. I leaned in, reaching up to hold his hands. His face rested against my neck, slowly breathing in my scent like he was committing it to memory. "I'm sorry." I said twisting around and wrapping my arms around his narrow hips.
"No worries." He replied nonchalantly before giving me one last kiss. "Stay warm and merry Christmas Sarah." I clung to the sweatshirt he draped over me and watched as he walked home in only a turtleneck and jeans.
"How could I miss this?" I asked no one as my fingers brushed the nonexistence dust off the rough leather surface. Well, I did have a sexy Mark distracting me. I smiled at the memory before frowning; remember what happen after that Colorado visit with my aunt.
Things between us changed dramatically after those two weeks with my aunt. She introduced me to photography and long hikes. It felt like someone just opened the door to the world and showed me things I've never noticed before. We grew up in those two weeks. Mark was sucked into football, focusing on the critical game that would propel our team to the State Championship. I joined the yearbook club and started hanging out with the artsy types. We drifted apart. Dan and Cash, who I thought were loveable, suddenly were intolerable with their constant dirty jokes and childish behavior. Mark snapped at Emily for pestering him about our relationship. It wasn't healthy staying in this relationship. I broke it off, thinking we were too young and unable to be something less than a couple. After that John came.
"Don't." I told myself, pushing the thought of John out of my head and focused on the sweatshirt and the book. My guess is this was my Christmas present, a year old Christmas present that could have maybe saved our relationship. I treated each page like it was fragile glass even though they were thick and rough. The first page was a photo of me, at age fourteen, covering the camera lens and trying to avoid the photo. It was blurry and grainy but I was able to make out my long hair and angry face. "When was this?" I asked, reading Mark's messy writing.
"Jan 12th Freshmen Year. Photographer Emily Grant. She better not tell Sarah about this."
I smiled and flipped through the mini scrapbook carefully. It had various pictures of random things. There was a photo of a rose, my favorite flower with the caption: "Why are these so damn expensive? Oh well, you're worth every penny." There was also a photo of Mel, Mark's golden retriever sleeping with his little sister, Janie, hugging the dog for dear life. I looked at the date and frowned at the grim caption. "Oct 31th Sophomore year. Today, Mel ate a whole chocolate bar. Janie freaked out. I did too, secretly." I quickly flipped the page and found a funny one. It was of the guy's locker room with Dan staring with a sick expression. Cash stood behind him holding a trashcan at the ready. "Oct 10th Sophomore year. First game jitters. Dan looks like he's about to throw up." Another one was of Anna and Kent, both glaring at each other and standing closer than necessary. "Nov 13th Sophomore year. When do you think Anna will cave?"
The scrapbook marked a bunch of random events during our relationship. It's difficult to imagine how Mark had time to make it all. The span from silly things like Emily's and Cash's improv water balloon fight in the summer of our freshmen year to serious things like Janie's broken arm. Mark's little comments offered an insight to his thoughts. He wasn't the most vocal boy even during our relationship and I guess this was his way of fixing it. I turned to the last page. It was different than the others. It was me, sleeping against someone's shoulders. Judging by the angle and off balance shot, I was sleeping against Mark's shoulder and we were on the bus home from a game. This was the first photo with a hint of Mark in the picture. I read the caption and my heart clenched. "Dec 19th Sophomore year. Sleeping beauty, are you sure I should be your prince charming?"
I sat there, looking at the last photo. My heart squeezed and I could feel every beat against my chest. Without thinking, I lunged for my phone and scan through the contacts. My eyes stared at the list, searching for one name. I've known that number by heart once upon a time but it has to be perfect. I found the name and pressed the go button before I could think and held it up to my ear. It rang once… twice… and now three times. "Please pick up." I muttered as a fourth and fifth ring continued before a click.
"Hello?" A familiar voice filled my ear and I closed my eyes, sighing.