"So you can call impromptu meetings in the middle of the woods, but I can't?" Mark asked Sarah petulantly. He had been in the middle of a calculus quiz, and she had pulled something about a messed up yearbook photo and needing a Quarterback quote for the football page to get him out of class. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful; he was just annoyed.
"That was so different it isn't even funny that you tried to compare the two." Sarah retorted.
She stood two feet across from him, with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a grin that he might have described as bitter, were it not for the tiny spark of amusement in her eyes. He really had no idea what to make of that.
"Whatever. Why did you bring me out here Sarah? I thought you were with John."
"I am, but we've hit a bit of a…rut." She paused to search for the right word a little too long; Mark's interest was absolutely piqued now. Not that he cared if ET and Sarah had troubles in their relationship. ..Alright, that was an absolute lie, and even he knew it. Their relationship going south would be the best thing that had happened to him in months.
"What do you mean?" he asked her, his voice subtly hopeful. She caught it.
"You remember that little briefing he gave us about Loriens, and how they only fall in love once?" Mark nodded.
"It turns out in some cases that they can love more than one person, and the 'mate-for-life' rule only really applies to reciprocated love."
"How did you find that out?" he asked her, surprised by her investigative fervor, "And why do I care?"
"Henry told me." She answered. She left Mark's second question noticeably unanswered for what felt to him like a very long time. He simply stood in front of her and waited for an explanation, knowing that he would eventually get one. That was one of the things he had liked about being with Sarah; she broke down easily when honesty was demanded of her. Unlike John, who could withhold information for hours based on flimsy emotional scaffolding that comprised his anal retentive mind. Which, was absolutely not intended to convey that Mark considered himself to be with John in any way.
Then he heard the telltale sigh. It mean that he was about to receive a heavy impact from an honesty-bomb; a confession of monumental proportions. Mark was a little ashamed of just how excited he was. Sarah had once been his friend after all, and then something more, and not long after that she became nothing at all to him (this transition being completely enforced by her, he might add).
"I'm not in love with him." She rushed to continue speaking, to keep him from interjecting and to distract herself from his utterly flabbergasted face.
"I do love him, it's just not…it's not…"
"You're not in love with him." Mark explained by repeating her words. He had heard them before. That was exactly what she had said to him.
"You still haven't explained why I'm out here." He said calmly. Sarah sighed again, but it wasn't as hefty as the one that had preceded it. Her face seemed to hold a better color than it had a moment ago, and her muscles had relaxed a tiny bit.
"Don't you know why you're out here?" she asked him. Mark blinked, as if he could dispel his confusion like dirt from his eyes.
"Come again?"
"You weren't upset with him for siding with Sam because he was contradicting you – it bothered you that he preferred Sam's company to yours. You didn't follow him to my house and prank him with red paint the next day because you wanted him to stay away from me – you did it because you wanted me to stay away from him. You didn't laugh at him or call him a freak after the whole 'glowing-hands' incident; you told everyone to shut up and leave him alone. You asked him if he was okay, and you meant it. You were worried when he didn't come to school the next day."
"I fail to see your point Sarah." He lied. Well, he considered it a half-lie. He liked the guy sure, and he had looked at guys occasionally, but he was not gay for John Smith, if that was even his real name. He did not want to hook up with his ex's boyfriend. No. Absolutely not. Therein lay the lie – he was interested, sure, but he wanted the same from John as he did from anyone who wasn't Sarah. He loved Sarah. Or so he told himself.
"No you don't Mark!" she said, shaking her head in disbelief and denial.
"Even if I did like the guy, what would you like me to do about it Sarah?" Mark snapped angrily.
"He hates my guts!"
"No!" Sarah argued; her voice was still at a normal volume, and she seemed to be even calmer than when they had started this conversation. "He just doesn't know you! He only knows the things you've said to him and what you've done to Sam! Based on that, anyone would avoid you."
"Thanks." He deadpanned.
The clearing remained altogether silent for the next few minutes. Even though the rain had let up; no birds sang, no animals scurried about looking for food, and no one was out walking the trails. He couldn't even detect the sound of water dripping off a gutter. The reigning silence made him immensely uncomfortable.
"What do you want me to do about it?" He asked her, defeated. He would stick it out until this whimsical fantasy of hers failed to bloom, and then she would leave it alone. That was the only option she was presenting him with.
Though as she beamed at him, he felt a little guilty. She had so much faith in this idea of hers. She was certain that it was true, and that things would work out. That was Sarah – always faithful – always telling herself and everyone around her that the glass was half-full.
"His house, Friday at seven."
"The X-files meeting?" he asked, surprised.
Henri had been holding weekly meetings to report the progress of all things Alien in the universe. He also taught them more about Aliens, and prepared them for the war he was sure was to descend upon them soon. Sam would be there, and so would Henry, and even Sarah. John wasn't going to look at him if Sarah was in the room doing her Edward Cullen-esque dazzle-thing to him; the guy was really in for it now; anyone who attended the meetings could tell that she had him wrapped around her finger.
"I'm going to be very sick, and Sam will be celebrating his mother's birthday." She said, and Mark was fairly certain she winked at him as the corner of her mouth pulled up into a broad grin.
"And Henri? You remember him – we refer to him as Henri the cockblocker behind his back?" he asked her, certain that she had forgotten about John's 'Dad'.
Her smile became even broader. That was concerning, and a little disturbing.
"Remember who gave me this information?"
Mark's eyes bulged, and all of the air in his lungs escaped in a strangled cry of surprise. He was sure she was joking, but when he looked up to meet her search for mirth in them, he was met with amused sincerity.
"Oh Hell." He said. "You're not joking are you?"
She shook her head.
Mark gulped. His life had just acquired a whole new level of strange, awkward, and downright disturbing, and it definitely did not look like it would get any easier from here on out.