Disclaimers and summary on first chapter.
Chapter 4 -You're More Interesting-
+Mark's POV+
I sit in the lunchroom with a bottle of water and a notebook. I have no creative inspiration at the moment, or ever really, but I'm optimistic. Or idealistic, whichever.
Oh crap, Maureen's coming. I close the blank notebook and slide it over to the edge of the table near the wall. I lean back and allow my head to slam against the wall.
"Marky! Hey Marky!"
She's waving frantically and I smile, however painful it is, and gesture for her to come over. She sets her tray down on the table and sits next to me. My eyes wander to the other side of the empty table, wondering why she didn't go there.
"Are you coming to the talent show tonight, Marky? It's going to be so great!"
"I'm on the tech crew, Maureen, remember? I have to be there."
Her face falls. "But you're not going to see me!"
I sigh. "Maureen, I've seen your dance hundreds of times."
"But not on stage! With the lights and my costume and everything! Please Marky?"
"What do you want me to do? I can't just duck out to watch you."
She crosses her arms and pouts. "Please Marky?" She purposely draws out the words in a whining tone that she knows irritates the hell out of me. I bang my head against the wall again.
"Yeah, fine. Whatever." It's not like I haven't seen it before. Just because I tell her I'm going to doesn't mean I will.
"Oh great!" She reaches over to try to hug me but I pull away.
"Stop it, Maureen!"
"Oh Marky, stop being so depressing." She punches me in the arm and then turns when someone calls her name. She yells something back and picks up her tray.
"I'm gonna go sit by them for the rest of the period, I'll see you tonight!"
I watch her go and then pull my notebook out, but again I'm interrupted.
"That your girlfriend?"
I look up into a pair of green eyes. It's that blond guy from the talent show. Great.
"God no. That's just Maureen."
"Well, 'just Maureen' is pretty fucking hot." He sits beside me and nudges me in the arm. "You should totally ask her out."
I rub my arm wondering what the problem with the other side of the table is.
"I'm not really interested." I tell him, hoping he'll go away if I don't look at him.
He laughs. "So are you friends? Friends with benefits?"
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "We're hardly friends, she just keeps me around so I can tell her how great she is."
He's staring at her and her friends at a table across the room. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Tell her how great she is."
I shrug. "If I'm in a good mood. She's starting to bother me recently." Why am I telling him this? I turn to stare at him, willing him to go away.
"Why's that?"
"Don't you have anyone better to annoy?"
He laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Better than you? Nah, never!"
"What the fuck does that mean?"
He touches my shoulder, his expression serious. "Hey, relax! I'm just kidding, man."
"Yeah, everyone's 'just kidding'." I push him off and grab my notebook and water and get up to leave.
"Hey! My band's playing this weekend at that club in the next town. Will you go?"
"I don't like clubs."
"Hey, c'mon. I'd really appreciate your input, we're doing a couple originals."
"Can't you find. . ."
"Someone better to bother?" He smiles. "Yeah, probably. But you're more interesting."
"I'll think about it."
"Saturday at 8:30! Bring some friends!"
I smirk to myself as I walk away. What friends?
Chapter 4 -You're More Interesting-
+Mark's POV+
I sit in the lunchroom with a bottle of water and a notebook. I have no creative inspiration at the moment, or ever really, but I'm optimistic. Or idealistic, whichever.
Oh crap, Maureen's coming. I close the blank notebook and slide it over to the edge of the table near the wall. I lean back and allow my head to slam against the wall.
"Marky! Hey Marky!"
She's waving frantically and I smile, however painful it is, and gesture for her to come over. She sets her tray down on the table and sits next to me. My eyes wander to the other side of the empty table, wondering why she didn't go there.
"Are you coming to the talent show tonight, Marky? It's going to be so great!"
"I'm on the tech crew, Maureen, remember? I have to be there."
Her face falls. "But you're not going to see me!"
I sigh. "Maureen, I've seen your dance hundreds of times."
"But not on stage! With the lights and my costume and everything! Please Marky?"
"What do you want me to do? I can't just duck out to watch you."
She crosses her arms and pouts. "Please Marky?" She purposely draws out the words in a whining tone that she knows irritates the hell out of me. I bang my head against the wall again.
"Yeah, fine. Whatever." It's not like I haven't seen it before. Just because I tell her I'm going to doesn't mean I will.
"Oh great!" She reaches over to try to hug me but I pull away.
"Stop it, Maureen!"
"Oh Marky, stop being so depressing." She punches me in the arm and then turns when someone calls her name. She yells something back and picks up her tray.
"I'm gonna go sit by them for the rest of the period, I'll see you tonight!"
I watch her go and then pull my notebook out, but again I'm interrupted.
"That your girlfriend?"
I look up into a pair of green eyes. It's that blond guy from the talent show. Great.
"God no. That's just Maureen."
"Well, 'just Maureen' is pretty fucking hot." He sits beside me and nudges me in the arm. "You should totally ask her out."
I rub my arm wondering what the problem with the other side of the table is.
"I'm not really interested." I tell him, hoping he'll go away if I don't look at him.
He laughs. "So are you friends? Friends with benefits?"
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "We're hardly friends, she just keeps me around so I can tell her how great she is."
He's staring at her and her friends at a table across the room. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Tell her how great she is."
I shrug. "If I'm in a good mood. She's starting to bother me recently." Why am I telling him this? I turn to stare at him, willing him to go away.
"Why's that?"
"Don't you have anyone better to annoy?"
He laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Better than you? Nah, never!"
"What the fuck does that mean?"
He touches my shoulder, his expression serious. "Hey, relax! I'm just kidding, man."
"Yeah, everyone's 'just kidding'." I push him off and grab my notebook and water and get up to leave.
"Hey! My band's playing this weekend at that club in the next town. Will you go?"
"I don't like clubs."
"Hey, c'mon. I'd really appreciate your input, we're doing a couple originals."
"Can't you find. . ."
"Someone better to bother?" He smiles. "Yeah, probably. But you're more interesting."
"I'll think about it."
"Saturday at 8:30! Bring some friends!"
I smirk to myself as I walk away. What friends?