Back to School for Becky

Mark pulled his truck into the lot, parked up and switched off the ignition. He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, twiddling with the two strands that he liked to have falling down into his eyes - making sure they were exactly in place. He'd gelled them until they were stiff - yeah, they'd stick in place. He looked cool.

Finished with checking himself out, he glanced at his watch. There were still a few minutes yet. He got out of the truck and leaned against it, lighting a cigarette and drawing on it deeply as he waited. Part of him thought that maybe this was a bad idea: if that large, loud, screechy woman ever found out he'd come here...

The school bell rang - he could hear it even out here in the parking lot - signalling the start of the next period. Becky would be going to lunch. He threw the last of his cigarette away, though it wasn't quite down to the butt yet, and ground it under his heel. Time to go.

The halls were swarming with kids making their way to class. Mark ignored them all. He didn't remember when the last time he'd shown up for school was, there was no one to make him go, now he had his own place, and come the summer he'd be done with it all anyway. There was no way he'd have enough credits to graduate, and he wasn't going to summer school, so there didn't seem a whole lot of point in him continuing to show up to class. There was only one thing left for him in this entire building.

She wasn't in the cafeteria - she mustn't have got there yet, so he stood outside it, leaning against the wall - right by the door - so he couldn't miss her. He put his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket and played with the cigarette packet in there. He wanted a smoke. He thought about just doing it - just lighting up right in the hallway - but if a faculty member saw him they'd evict him from the premises - and, while he didn't care about being in school for his own sake, getting kicked out right away would sort of defeat the entire point of his showing up today. He settled for taking one cigarette out and sticking it behind his ear. Then he checked his hair again - using the pale reflection cast in the glass of the trophy cabinet. It was still all in place. He still looked cool.

Judy and Monica walked down the corridor, their heads together, deep in discussion. Mark glanced at them and then looked around hopefully, if her friends were right here then she should be close by … but there was no sign of her.

'Hey - Judy?'

She looked up - and her expression became surprised when she saw him standing there. 'What are you doing here?' she asked… well, it had been a while since he'd stopped by campus.

He cleared his throat and shuffled a little awkwardly. 'Is Becky around?'

'Oh…' her look of surprise became one of embarrassed discomfort and she glanced back down the hallway, 'uh … she's… she's with…'

And then Becky came into view, walking down the hall - her backpack slung over one shoulder and a textbook hugged to her chest - talking to Bobby Squires, the Lanford High Running Back. Behind himself, Mark was vaguely aware of Judy and Monica making their excuses and diving into the cafeteria, wanting to get out of the way of any confrontation that was about to happen - but he wasn't paying attention to them. He was just looking at Becky. He hadn't seen her in weeks now but - much to his own surprise - he hadn't stopped thinking about her that whole time.

As she reached him, he stepped forward, blocking her path. 'Hi, Becky.'

'Mark!' She glanced at Bobby and then looked back at Mark, a rosy blush began to creep up her cheeks. 'What are you doing here?'

'Yeah - what are you doing here, Healy? I heard you'd dropped out. Classes too hard for you.' There was a definite note of derision in Bobby's voice, as the football player looked Mark up and down. Mark's eyes flicked across to him, and stared at him, coolly - taking in his floppy hair and letterman jacket and letting his own disdain for this clean-cut, all American jock show quite clearly. Then they flicked back across to Becky, as he chose to ignore the other boy. 'Becky, can I talk to you?'

'Now?'

'Well - I came down here, specially.'

'Oh - uh…' again she glanced at Bobby but, when she looked back at Mark, her blush had deepened and there was just the hint of a smile on her face. He took that as a yes, took hold of her arm and bundled her away from Bobby.

'Hey!' the footballer called out, taking a step to follow them. But Becky shook her head in his direction, 'it's OK, Bobby - just leave it.' He did not look happy about that, but there was nothing he could do - so he folded his arms across his chest and waited for her sulkily by the cafeteria door.

Mark flashed him a smug smile, and then pulled Becky round the corner out of earshot. 'Are you really dating that guy?' That wasn't what he'd come here to say - but jealousy got the better of him.

'So what if I am?'

He made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. 'He's a football player, Becky - and you know the thing about football players, what they're all like.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Well … they wear those tight little pants that show off their butts. They stick their butts in the air. They touch other guys' butts … they're all really into men's butts.'

That made her laugh - and he smiled and pushed home his point, taking hold of her hands with his own. 'Wouldn't you rather be with a guy that was into your butt?'

'I'd rather be with a guy that was into my brain.'

He shrugged. 'I don't mind that you got a brain.'

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling - and when she spoke her voice had a smile in it, as well. 'Well - gee, thanks for allowing me to think. What are you doin' here, Mark?'

'Uh …' he dropped her hands and shoved his own into his jeans back pockets, 'I was wonderin' if maybe you might wanna go out on the weekend … with me.'

She sighed. 'You know my parents won't let me.'

He nodded, 'and are you gonna let them run your whole life, or just control the dating side of it?'

'I can't date you if they won't let me out of the house to see you!'

He shrugged again, 'so don't tell 'em.'

'Oh right - keep a secret from Roseanne. That'll happen. Mark, you don't know my mother. She knows everything. If she finds out I'm speaking to you right now, I'll be grounded for a month.'

'Look - I don't want your mom knowing about us either,' he insisted, 'I don't wanna have to sit through another one of her little chats. But I do wanna see you again - and I kinda thought maybe I could date the daughter without the mother havin' to be brought into it?'

Becky shook her head, 'you have no idea who you're dealing with. She'll eat you alive.'

'I guess if your folks eat every guy you date that probably explains it.'

She looked offended. 'Did you just call my parents fat?'

He paused. '... No. Come on Becky - you don't really like that floppy haired jerk back there do ya? Wouldn't you rather go out with me?'

Becky shuffled her feet and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, looking awkward. 'I dunno, Mark - I'm surprised you even wanna see me again after last time.' Their second date had been a disaster. Already banned from seeing him, Becky had tried to sneak out past Roseanne. Of course it didn't work - and her mom had known exactly where she was- or at least who she was with. She pretended to buy the lie that Becky had gone to Judy's - and then rang Judy's house every 15 minutes. Becky had had to call home every fifteen minutes to keep up the lie, it had ruined the evening and she had still ended up grounded for two weeks. But now it turned out Mark wanted another secret date.

'I had fun with you, Becky,' he told her. 'I really like being around you.'

'Well…' she was smiling again - and he knew he was winning her over. 'I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,' he said. 'I've not been out with another girl since you - 'cause I'm just not interested in seeing anyone else. I wanna go out with you.'

'Well…' her smile was even bigger now.

'It'll be fun,' he pressed.

'Well, OK. I guess …'

'Great! Rick's having a party Friday. Why don't you come over with Judy and Monica and we can meet there? I'll take you out in my truck.'

She bit her lip and then nodded. He grinned - not sure what to say now he'd done what he came here to do. She smiled back at him - shy and a little awkward. There was a tense, but not unpleasant, silence between them - a snap of electricity in the air they could both feel, that made their pulses race and their breath quicken. Neither could stop smiling.

'Uh - yeah then - I guess …' she looked back over her shoulder, at where Bobby was still waiting for her. 'I guess I should go get lunch before the start of next period.'

'Yeah.'

She began to back away, still smiling. 'See you Friday, then.'

'See you, Bec.'

She turned round and began to hurry away. 'Oi - Becky!' he called after her, she looked back. He pointed at Bobby. 'That guy isn't invited, yeah?' Her smile widened. She nodded and laughed and then headed away.

He stood still, watching her leave - lost in the pleasant thought that he was finally getting another shot with her. A hand suddenly clapped him on the shoulder - making him jump. 'Ah - Mr. Healy,' a voice said from behind him. He turned to look. It was Principal Hiller. 'So nice that you could join us, finally,' the principal said.

'Actually - I was just leaving.'

'Nonsense nonsense - it's only the beginning of fourth period,' with his hand still firmly clamped on Mark's shoulder, old man Hiller began to steer him down the corridor, 'and I believe you should be in geometry right now.'

'I - uh…' he tried to look for an escape. '...I don't have a pen.' But the principal only took one out of his own breast pocket and handed it across. Mark took it and nodded. 'Thanks.'

'In here, Mr. Healy,' the door opened - and Mark was shoved into his geometry classroom. He stumbled back a few steps. 'Look who's decided to join us today, Mrs. Murphy,' Principal Hiller said to the teacher. 'Seems Mr. Healy discovered he missed Pythagoras and Euclid too much to stay away, after all.'

Mark looked between his principal and his teacher, 'look - really - I was … there's somewhere I need to …'

But Hiller only pointed to the empty desk, right at the front of the classroom. 'Sit.' And Mark had no choice but to shuffle over and take his seat. The rest of his geometry class sniggered quietly. Once he was seated, Hiller nodded his head, 'that'll be all, Mrs. Murphy, thank you,' and he left the room, closing the door and trapping Mark inside.

Mrs Murphy went back to teaching the class, drawing lines across the board and writing letters next to them and then turning it all into equations. Mark looked longingly at the door. Maybe he could make a bolt for it. Mrs. Murphy was old - she wouldn't be able to catch him ... 'So what would be the value of x?' Mrs. Murphy asked, looking around the students, 'anyone? ...Mark?'

He snapped his head round so he was facing her again. 'Uh … what?'

'The value of x?'

He squinted at the board. None of it made sense. He'd missed months of class, and it wasn't like he had listened or kept up even back when he was here. 'Um … 7?' he hazarded a guess. He had a one in infinity shot of getting it right.

But the odds were against him: 'No, Mark - not 7. Anyone else?'

He heard the class snigger again - and brought his hand up to play with his hair, showing off how supremely unconcerned he was to be being laughed at for not being able to do math. Instead of touching hair though, his fingers grazed the cigarette he had stashed there earlier. Well … that would be one way to get out of here early…

He took the cigarette out from behind his ear, placed it between his lips - and then brought out his lighter...