Chapter Three

Mark settled into life at the Douglas' pretty quickly. He had spent most of his free time there for as long as he could remember and he and Bryon only became tighter over time. Mark even seemed happier. Gone were the days where he'd appear on my porch with a black eye or a bloodied nose, accompanied by a world weary frown. He didn't need to hide out with me anymore until his parents fell asleep but I guess he never forgot that when he had needed me, I had been there.

Of course, I never saw him as much as I would have liked. One thing that hadn't changed over the years was that there was no love lost between me and Bryon.

It was usually early morning when Mark came over. Bryon slept in late but Mark was an early riser like me. Sometimes he'd come over and we'd just hang out on the porch but on colder days we'd sit watching cartoons inside and I'd make hot chocolate. If Bryon ever woke up before Mark left my place, he'd come stomping over to my house, hollering Mark's name from the front steps. He never had the decency to knock. When this happened, Mark would give me an apologetic grin and disappear outside. It made me mad but I tried to understand. Bryon was the only family Mark had.

By the time we hit our teens, Mark and Bryon had joined a gang. This meant they spent a lot of time scrapping with rival gangs, usually over things as stupid as walking on somebody else's street. I didn't get it really. I thought the whole thing was stupid, beating each other to a pulp for no good reason but Mark seemed to get a kick out of it. One day I was reading on the porch swing when a swarm of boys led by Bryon and Mark came whooping and cheering down the street. Some of them were cart-wheeling and others were wielding sticks and bike chains. I glanced up just as Mark neared my house and almost gasped out loud. The whole side of his face was caked in blood from a gash on his head. From the look on his face though, he clearly didn't care.

"Did you see me stomp on him?" Bryon punched the air victoriously "Damn Cobra's thought they had us beat!"

It was at this time, that Mark, practically dancing in the street, noticed I was there. He bounded over like an excited puppy and hopped up the front steps towards me. Before I could greet him, he yelled delightedly;

"We did it Ally! We beat the Cobras!"

I started to roll my eyes but caught up in all the excitement, he grabbed my shoulders and kissed me full on the mouth. It was only for a brief moment but it was in those few seconds that I realised I was in love with Mark. I guess I always had been.

When he pulled away, I was blushing furiously, but he didn't seem to notice. I had never been kissed before and the fact that it had occurred in front of a whole gang of boys made me uncomfortable.

To Mark, it was nothing more than a celebratory kiss, but to me, it meant everything. He hopped back down the steps to join his gang who were cheering and wolf whistling at us. I smiled, despite my embarrassment, but my face fell when I caught the look of disgust Bryon was giving me. He could never understand what Mark saw in me or why he spent any time over at my place. I tried to balance this opinion with the fact that deep down I felt exactly the same way about why Mark hung out with Bryon. The difference was I didn't begrudge their relationship. I was even glad that Mark had someone after all he'd been through.

I became determined to not let Bryon spoil the moment. It was my first kiss from my first love, even if he didn't know it yet.

"Ally!" I was half asleep when I heard the frantic hiss through the slit in my bedroom window, followed by a persistent tapping. I stumbled sleepily out of bed and pulled back the curtain to see Mark standing outside, dripping wet. It wasn't raining anymore but it had been, heavily. Even in the darkness, I could see that Mark was drenched.

We were fifteen and not much had changed. We were still friends and Bryon and I were still enemies. The worst part was, at school I now saw more of Bryon than Mark because of the classes we had been put in. Bryon was in the top classes with me but Mark, who never cared much for school, was in the bottom classes. Even though Bryon and me were the only two kids from our street in the class, we always sat at opposite sides of the room.

They'd both given up organised gang fighting, it had just kinda phased out but both boys still enjoyed a good brawl.

"What the hell are you doing?" I muttered to Mark, lifting the window wide open "My mother's home, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I saw her truck in the drive." Mark shook his wet hair, laughing, and he reminded me of a proud lion shaking out his coat. "You letting me in or you gonna let me freeze to death?"

I stepped back to allow him inside and he clambered through the window.

"Hang on a minute, and be quiet!" I told him, heading for the bathroom for towels.

When I got back, he'd switched my bedroom light on. He already had his wet shirt off and was staring at my memo board. A photograph of he and I was pinned to it. It had been taken on one of the rare mornings my Mom had been home. She had rustled us up some mean pancakes and then before I knew it, the camera was out.

"Oh, come on, Ally." My Mom coaxed as I covered my face with my hands "You never let me take your photo anymore. Mark doesn't mind, do you, Mark?"
Mark looked over at me grinning, before pulling me towards him for the photo.

"Oh come on, Ally. Smile, it won't kill you." My Mom complained, trying to focus her new camera. She was useless with any kind of technology.

"Yeah, Ally, smile," Mark said, his arm snaking round my waist. He started to ferociously tickle me.

"Hey stop it!" I shrieked, breaking out into peals of helpless laughter. We were both struggling, breathless from giggling. It was round about then, Mom took the photo.

"Jesus, this must be two years old." Mark said, staring at the picture in fascination "How come you never showed me?"

I was deadly embarrassed. He'd seen my secret photo of us. The one I stared at day after day as I thought about him.

"I forgot it was there," I lied. "My Mom stuck it up there when she got the pictures developed."

"Uh-huh." Mark turned away from the photo and gave me a funny smile.

"What's with you asking all the questions?" I threw a towel at him to hide my discomfort. "I'm not the one climbing through peoples windows soaked to the skin at-" I glanced at the clock. "Jesus, it's 1am, Mark!"

He laughed easily, rubbing his chest with the towel. Even though he was small and slight of build, I noticed his chest and stomach were well toned.

"Aww, Bryon had company and they were, you know-mid way- when I got home. His old lady was asleep on the couch so I thought I'd see if you were up."

"Ew, midway? With his Mom in the house?" I echoed "Who's the girl?"

"Beats me." Mark tossed the wet towel on the bed alongside his shirt. I hurriedly picked them both up and hung them up to dry on the heater. He watched me, an amused expression on his face.

"So you gonna put a guy up for the night?" He asked me, winning me over at once with his huge grin.

"Yeah, I guess." I pulled back the duvet and got underneath "Get the light."

He slipped out of his shoes and crossed the room to turn the light out. I pulled out one of the pillows from underneath me and tossed it down on the floor for him.

Apparently, Mark had other ideas.

I had to stifle a scream as he jumped over me into my single bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed "You're sleeping on the floor."

"Ah, come on, Ally." Mark had already wrestled a corner of the quilt from me and was wrapping it around himself. "It's freezing tonight."

In the narrow bed, it was impossible to avoid touching each other and after a few seconds of feeling awkward about this, I gave up. Besides he was right, it WAS freezing and his body heat was deliciously soothing.

"So where've you been tonight?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

"The Ribbon," he said, so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath. "Had a few beers and then Terry picked us up some girls."

I stiffened at this, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"Don't worry, that's when I left."

I tried to figure out what this meant. Why had he left? And why was he telling me not to worry? But tiredness got the best of me and as he buried his face into my hair, I fell asleep.

"Alison Jenkins! What the hell is going on?" A voice boomed from above me.

"Huh?" I opened one eye sleepily to see my Mom standing above me with an absolutely livid look on her face. She was holding a newspaper and a cup of something hot and boy, did she look mad. I didn't understand until I felt Mark shift beside me. He had pulled the quilt up over his head and without his show of golden hair, you couldn't even tell it was him.

"Who the hell is this hoodlum?" My Mom screamed, suddenly reaching out and rapping his sleeping form with her newspaper. Mark groaned and mumbled;

"Go away..."

"Excuse me?!" Mom took this an invitation to start pounding him with the paper "Get out! Get out before I call the cops!"

"Mom!" I groaned, struggling to sit up. "It's Mark!"

"Mark?" My mother pulled back the cover where Mark was now awake, grinning sleepily.

"Glory, Mrs Jenkins, you treat all your guests like this?"

"Well I thought-" Mom looked a little off balance as she looked from me to Mark and then back at me again. "What is he doing here, Ally? In your bed?"

Mark was up in an instant and put an arm about my mother's shoulders.

"Sorry, Mrs Jenkins. I got locked out last night and it was raining. Ally here put me up for the night. It was too cold for the floor."
"We have plenty of blankets in the airing cupboard, Ally and you know it." My Mother said firmly, but I could tell already she was starting to soften. She'd always liked Mark and when he turned on the charm, she was like putty in his hands.

"Yeah, and I said we should go get some but Ally didn't wanna wake you, said you had to be up early. You off to work? "

"Yes, I am." She relaxed and shook her head slightly "Next time Mark, the couch will be fine."

"Sure thing, Mrs Jenkins." Mark flashed her the same smile he always used to get himself out of trouble. "Hey, is that coffee?" He added hopefully.

Mom gave him a look that read 'Are you kidding me?' but after meeting his yellow eyes with her dark ones, she held the cup out with a sigh.

"Right, well I'm off. Ally, there's cash on the table, and Mark, stay out of the bed!"

Turning on her heel, I couldn't believe that was all she had said. I was fifteen years old and asleep with a guy in my bed. She should still be going ballistic.

He was still shirtless, his golden hair a mess as he slurped down Mom's coffee. I was pretty sure if it had been anyone but him she would have marched me to the nearest convent, and thrown the guy out on his ear, but Mark was different. He could get away with anything.