A/N: Here's a nice juicy Chapter 2 for you! And if you review, we will send you a cute little Marky Cohen, free of charge!
Roger's POV
As Roger walked home, he was engaged in his thoughts. Why did I enjoy Mark's hand holding mine? Why did I KISS him? Am I going crazy? Do I love Mark? No. I don't love Mark. Do I?
Mark's POV
Why was Roger fiddling with my camera? And why did he kiss me? And WHY did I enjoy it? I'm so sad that I'm leaving Roger here, and I'm going off to camp. Is this really the right thing to do?
Mark walked out of his room to find his father yelling at his mother in Hebrew AGAIN. Not that this was anything new. They yelled at each other every night. But nothing could have prepared Mark for what happened next. He watched his mother fall to the ground, and his father run out the front door, into the car, and driving away.
"MOM!" yelled Mark. He ran to her side, and tried to feel a pulse. They had learned to do this in CPR class. He thought it was a boring class. He never thought he needed to use it. Now he was thankful for it.
Yes. He could defiantly feel a pulse. Thank God. He ran over to the phone, and dialed 911. He needed help. Now.
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Mark unwillingly let the men push him aside to aid his fallen mother. He blinked the tears away from his glinting eyes. Mark was fearful…confused, very confused. He wanted everything to stop, and go back to that moment with Roger. He couldn't stay here. Everything was driving him mad. He had to escape. He had to go...somewhere.
Anywhere.
Roger.
Without thinking, he ran. Out of the small house, and onto his bike, speeding down the barren city streets, skidding to a stop when he saw Roger's apartment.
He was about to knock on the door when Roger opened it. He was standing there, he looked concerned, with his hand on his shoulder, and he let him in.
"Mark, hey! What's…what's wrong?"
Mark started to cry, silent tears streamed down his face. Roger led him to his room in silence.
When Roger closed the door, Mark had already sat down, leaning against the wall, his face was buried in his hands, his hands furiously scratching at his face. As if to protest the fact he was crying. That he wasn't a baby like the other kids told him.
Roger knew this.
Silently, he sat down next to his weeping friend, and took him in his arms. He rocked Mark, soothingly, back and forth, back and forth. He didn't say anything. Only when Mark was ready, he would speak. He raised his head, finally.
"I...It's...Mom…" Mark wiped his eye and continued. "She...She fell and...There wasn't a pulse, Roger...There wasn't a..."
He broke down again, Crying in his best friend's arms.
Crying in his love's arms.
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They, at the same time, slammed down their glasses.
Aeryn's face was a tiny tint red, and she had uncontrollable giggling.
"Quick." Maureen said. "Say your name."
"Name?" Aeryn asked incredulously. Her voice, unbeknownst to Aeryn, had risen. Her voice was, if there could be, beyond a slur.
Maureen gasped, a smile peaking. "You're DRUNK!"
Aeryn's remained the color it had since her 4th drink. If you hadn't guessed already, they'd had a drinking contest.
"Oh, Yo...Yo….err..silly," Aeryn said, in a pitiful protest.
Maureen, who'd had many years of drinking and partying, and knew how to hold your liquor, just laughed.
She leaned in close to Aeryn, "It smells like old people!" she whispered. The old people in the booth next to them grumbled and turned away. Aeryn giggled.
"Maureen!" she exclaimed.
Maureen took a last sip of a fake-ID--thanks-to-Collins-martini.
"C'mon," Maureen eased her friend to her feet, helping her walk out the door.
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Aeryn, still drunk and giggly, hopped in Maureen's car, And as Maureen drove, Aeryn babbled for a the whole car ride, through hiccups and giggles of nothing, Maureen listened to every made up, slurred, drawn out word she said.
Maureen drove, planning to go back to Roger's...maybe spend the night. Her house wasn't the place to be. Ever. Then, the car passed a hotel.
"Hmm..." Maureen pondered this. A drunk girl in the car and a hotel just inches away...
"C'mon, sweetie..."
"Whha? Where are we going?"
"A hotel, silly. Don't you want some aspirin for that headache?"
Aeryn considered this, and shook her head. Maureen rephrased her question.
"Do you want more martinis? We can have DOZENS!"
Grinning, Aeryn nodded. And Maureen drove to the hotel.
