Author's Note: I am AKA Looking4you…I think that's my other name but anywho, while I'm suffering temporary amnesia on pass codes and what not I decided to make another account for more serious stuff I suppose and i really wanted to startover so, and beta's are NEEDED, that is, if you even read this lol.

Mark's POV

(Chapter One)

The first time I saw him.

I was sitting in outside bleachers with Maureen seated in between my legs; we were skipping fifth period chemistry together that day. He was leaning against the back of the school building with what looked to be a cigarette in between his fingers. I wouldn't say I was staring but I figure I was since he glanced over at me for a second. That second seemed to drag on forever in my mind, his piercing lime green eyes looking treacherously at me, staring at me and yet trough me. I wondered how long we would look at each other before one of us got the idea to look away. I found that I couldn't. He was striking, eye-catching, attention-grabbing. I found myself staring off across the field in a trance at this peculiar boy, and for whatever reason; he was staring back.

He stomped his cigarette out with his foot and bounced off the wall, his eyes were still on me, he tucked his hands deep into his baggy pants pockets which were adorned with a wallet chain. Okay, so maybe I was staring a little too hard. I had never seen this guy at school before; he was so much more different than anyone I had seen in a while. A sense of danger vibrated off of him but yet inner angst. I shrugged the thought away; I shouldn't spend my leisure time thinking about some guy with danger in his eyes and a tight leather jacket…in the middle of summer no less. Maureen lounged back on my knees and shook her hair out, taking in the swift breeze that would roll around every five minutes, I managed to get a nose full of her flowery musk of a perfume; it reminded me of my grandmother when she'd give me one of her infamous bear hugs. I made a note to tell Maureen not to douse herself in perfume, more so not to use it as a shampoo. She sighed and got up lazily, taking a hold of my right hand and pulling me up.

"Back to the torture chamber" She laughed softly "You're so lucky you're last hour doesn't completely suck" She pouted as she looped her arm through mine "fucking art" she rolled her eyes "and with Tom!"

"You could always get it changed"

"Oh yeah and go on another wild goose chase for those lazy ass-" I decided to interrupted her before she started ranting and raving all over me, which would result in me skipping class again and having to deal with an angry Collins. "I'm not their errand slut Mark" She pouted adorably.

"Forget I said anything" I smiled and she stopped and ruffled my hair with a sigh.

"Wish me luck" She closed her eyes with a smile on her face. I kissed her square on the lips, and touched the side of her face, pinching her cheeks lightly in a teasing way. "Have fun in gym pookie" I teased and she slapped me playfully.

"Thanks…heifer" She touched her index finger to her lips and placed them to my forehead. It was our way of saying goodbye. I had waved her off and hurried to the back building where my spastic art class was located, god forbid that I come in a second late, not that the teacher minded at all. It was Collins who would have my head for making him save my seat. I don't believe that I was that deep into thought, but I felt the presence of someone walking besides me, not exactly besides me but a few inches away. It was the guy from earlier, with the dangerous eyes and leather jacket. He smelt like weed…not that I knew what that smelt like. He seemed lost, confused on where he was going. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him staring down into a ragged sheet of blue copy paper and shoving it back into his pocket, I would have asked if he needed help but apparently I was invisible to this mysterious man. I picked up my pace and jogged the rest of the way there, leaving the stranger behind. It was weird that I got the feeling he was watching me; I dare not turn around though. He didn't really look friendly or polite.

I admit he kind of scared me, seeing as why I jogged away from him, it had nothing to do with being late. I don't really trust guys on school property that I've never seen before in leather jackets in seventy-eight degree weather, more so, that I had just been in a staring contest with. For all I knew he had a knife in his pocket, he looked like he may have a gun. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked over my shoulder, he was gone. I sighed and slowed my pace, being very wary of my surroundings now, I swear he was still behind me only a moment ago; Had I been jogging that fast?