Complicated Chapter 5: Show, Don't Tell, a rent fanfic

Show, Don't Tell

- - -

Mark stood on Maureen's doorstep, his legs feeling wobbly. It had been a deceptively long walk – the distance went by so quickly when Roger was driving him.

Mark breathed deeply, trying to calm his beating heart. It was hurting – actually hurting – his chest felt like it was going to crack open. How could he have run away like that? How could he have turned away when Roger was smiling like that, about to kiss him –

Mark shook his head. He had been wrong. It had been some kind of colossal mistake. Roger couldn't have possibly kissed him. He couldn't possibly – Mark swallowed – want him. In that way. They were friends.

That's all.

And that feeling Mark had felt rising in him, overtaking him –

It just didn't exist, that's all. He hadn't lost control over his own body, and his own mind, his life did not just drastically change, and everything was normal and sane and easy. Mark hitched up his backpack, sighing unconsciously, and rang the Johnson's doorbell.

A moment later the door opened, Mr. Johnson peering at him coolly. Mark's stomach dropped – he'd thought Maureen would answer the door. Her parents were okay, but they weren't exactly friendly.

Mr. Johnson stared at him silently for a moment. Mark cleared his throat. "Is, um, Maureen home?" he asked tentatively.

Mr. Johnson gave Mark a half-hearted smile and then turned, walking deeper into the house. Mark followed, waiting in the front hall.

"Maureen!" Mr. Johnson hollered in the direction of the stairs leading to the second floor. "You have company!"

Mark saw Maureen's father walk into the living room and fall onto the couch, sighing tiredly as Maureen called down, "Daddy! You know I can't see anyone right now!"

Mark saw the man lightly shake his head. A moment later Maureen's voice floated down again.

"Well, who is it?"

"Mark! Now get down here!"

"…Oh."

Mark could hear the disappointment in her voice and nearly turned around. But the thought of home and homework and the inevitable college discussion with his parents at the dinner table kept him where he was.

Soon Maureen emerged from the top of the stairs. "Mark, what are you doing here?"

Mark stared. "…What the hell is on your face?"

Her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail and gray goop spread over her face, Maureen blew out an exasperated breath. "It's not like I was expecting company. It's an oatmeal mask."

Mark decided to ignore it. "Can I stay the night?"

Maureen walked down a few steps. "…Are you okay?"

I kissed Roger. I fucked up everything.

Mark nodded. "Yeah … I just, I really …" Mark sighed. "I can't talk to you when your face is covered in breakfast food. Can I please stay?"

Maureen nodded. "Yeah sure. And I'll go wash this off – but you're getting one of these just for that smartass remark," she called over her shoulder, turning into the bathroom. "Call your mom, she's probably freaking."

Mark simply nodded, feeling miserable as he walked past Mr. Johnson into the kitchen and called his mother, absently fielding her questions and forgetting everything he said the moment he hung up the phone. He turned back to the living room, pausing before heading up the stairs.

"Uh, thanks for letting me spend the night, Mr. Johnson. I'm really sorry if – "

Mr. Johnson shook his head, eyes on the television. "You're always welcome here Mark. Just no funny stuff. You know I'll find out – Maureen could never keep quiet about it."

Mark smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."

He hurried upstairs and into Maureen's room, where she was reaching into her closet and pulling out a sleeping bag.

"So what's up?" she asked, the bag next to her bed and facing Mark. "Something's wrong, I'm not stupid."

"I know that," Mark said, sounding strained. "I just – I wanted to escape for a while, you know?"

Maureen looked at him, then smiled. "Yeah, I know." She flopped onto her bed. "So, look, have you chosen your group yet for drama?"

"Yeah," Mark said, gratefully dropping onto the sleeping bag. Maureen tossed him a pillow.

"We'll order pizza later – I think that's what we were going to do, anyway," Maureen said, glancing at Mark out of the corner of her eye. "Is Benny in it?"

"In what?" Mark asked, genuinely confused. He wasn't up to – well, anything right now. He leaned his head back, trying to stretch the tension out of his neck. Had Roger's hands really been there just a little while ago?

"Your group," Maureen said, turning to face him.

Mark stared. "Of course he – I didn't think you cared, I – "

Maureen flipped over onto her back. "I don't care. He just mentioned something about not wanting to act."

He would have called her on it; but didn't he just a minute ago deny that anything was wrong?

"Well," Mark said slowly, thinking. "I don't think I will get him to act. He can work on the script with me – I mean, if he doesn't want to act."

"That's good," Maureen said quietly.

They were silent for a few minutes. "Maureen?"

"Yeah?"

Mark held his breath a second. "What would you do … if I was interested in Roger?"

Maureen laughed and pumped her hands in the air. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"Maureen …" Mark tiredly rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"What?" she said, grinning. "I think it would be great. I'm just thrilled to finally get some dirt out of you." She reached down a foot and hit him in the shoulder with it. "But I swear I won't spread it around, honest."

Mark gave her a small smile. "I know. I trust you. I probably shouldn't, but …"

Maureen grinned and tossed a stuffed rabbit at his head. He ducked and grinned. He wasn't even thinking about Roger, really.

Fuck. Now he was.

"So, you wouldn't freak out or anything …?"

"Nope. Other people might, though."

Mark looked down at his hands in his lap. "I know."

"But fuck 'em. You like him, you go for it." She smiled, looking thoughtful. "It'd probably be worth it."

"People would talk."

"People always talk, no matter what," Maureen said. "They're always calling me slut and whore 'cause of Benny." She snorted. "I go out with Paul Harris once and I'm a slut. But you notice no one calls Benny anything." Maureen paused. "Nothing happened with Paul Harris anyway, and nothing even really happened with Benny."

Mark hid a smile. Maureen sounded unusually depressed about that.

"Jamie Reynolds doesn't mean a thing to Benny. You'll probably get back together."

Maureen shook her head. "I don't think so." She rolled onto her stomach, her head hanging off the side of her bed over Mark. "I think you're gonna be really good at this drama thing."

Mark snorted, going along with the change in subject. "Yeah. I've proved myself so proficient at it in the past."

"You have," Maureen insisted. She suddenly grinned. "Remember when I first moved into the neighborhood?"

Mark looked at her. "I know you left me a note asking if I wanted to be friends."

Maureen laughed. "I left one of those at every house."

"Oh."

She giggled. "Don't get all offended. You're the only one I actually stuck with."

Mark smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Maureen looked off to the side. "It was the end of August, and I was really scared about starting at a new school. And I walked by your place, and you were in your yard and asked if I wanted to play."

Maureen laughed. "And I couldn't believe it, 'cause that was such a baby thing to say. And I was really obsessed with being 'cool' then. But I thought I'd get a good laugh out of it."

Mark made a face. "Wow. Thanks."

She reached down and hit his shoulder. "I can't believe you don't remember this! So I walked over, and you leaned forward and whispered to me, 'They've landed'. And I was just like, what the fuck?"

Maureen giggled again. "And then you told me that the grass was really an alien race intent on taking over the world, and that they were growing at an alarming rate, and then you pointed to the tree in your yard. You said, 'See? They're getting huge. They could crush us in a minute. We've got to get away from them.'"

Maureen looked at him, grinning. "For, like, an hour, we ran around your yard, trying to not touch the grass, you coming up with a new twist to the story every minute. And then you – " She laughed. "You ran around to the back and hopped on the tool shed, and started trying to climb onto the roof, but your foot hit the kitchen window, and your Mom came out yelling."

Mark grinned suddenly. "She grabbed my arm and yanked me inside and yelled, sounding really pissed, that she was happy to meet you."

Maureen squealed. "Yes! You remember!"

Mark nodded, still grinning. "Now I do, yeah."

"And I just remember thinking, wow. This guy just doesn't care, and I just had the most fun I've had all summer. I came back the next day."

"And the first day of school we walked in together, and you held my hand," Mark said, smiling softly at the memory.

"Yeah."

In the heavy silence that descended, Maureen looked over at him shrewdly. "You're great, Mark. Don't forget that."

"Thanks," Mark said, not meeting her eyes and swallowing.

After a moment Maureen jumped up. "Let's go order pizza. And watch a movie if dad lets us use the VCR."

Mark stood. "Okay."

He followed Maureen out of her room and onto the stairs.

"How about 'Grease'?"

"No!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mark dreaded going back to school, but he hadn't needed to worry. Roger didn't show up for drama class on Thursday or Friday. And every time Mark thought he saw him in the halls, he disappeared by the time Mark got through the crowds separating them.

Before handing in his cast list to Ms. Dalaine, Mark wondered if he should change it. But at the last minute he decided to leave it as it was. It looked like Roger wasn't going to be showing up, anyway.

Mark swung by the parking lot on his way out of school, but he couldn't see Roger's car. Cursing himself, he walked home.

That weekend, Mark had a lot of time to think. Maureen and her parents were going to visit Maureen's grandparents. And he didn't feel like talking to Benny – it was a little weird, knowing that Maureen felt weird around him. Not that she'd admit it.

Like you're any better, asshole.

The only times he really left his room was for meals or to go to the kitchen and stare at the phone. He could call him and apologize. But a phone call seemed so cold and impersonal – and besides, he could see Roger hanging up on him in his mind.

Mark sighed and went back to his room, softly closing the door behind him.

It would have never worked anyway. There were so many reasons, so many good reasons to stop this in its tracks, before it got any more painful –

Mark flopped onto his bed, realizing something that was scarier than anything else that had happened recently.

I don't care. I want him.

Not just the friendship. Mark missed that, of course, but he also felt a physical longing to be back with Roger, just to stand close to him …

Mark covered his face. That wasn't friendship.

And as hard as he'd tried, none of this was going away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

On Monday when Mark walked into drama class, his heart skipped a beat when he saw that Roger was already there, sitting a few rows behind everyone else. Mark started to hurry his footsteps, but stopped, hesitating. Roger looked behind him and they locked eyes for an instant. Then Roger's face hardened and he turned back around.

Mark took a deep breath and continued slowly. He inched through the empty row and sat down beside Roger.

"Hey."

Roger stared straight ahead, silent. Mark sighed.

"Listen – "

Roger turned suddenly. "To what? I already know, Mark – I've gotten your message loud and clear." He turned back to stare at the stage, and then shook his head, chuckling bitterly under his breath.

"I don't need this shit," he said, grabbing his backpack and standing up.

Mark watched him sweep away. "Roger, wait – "

But the bell rang, Ms. Dalaine was onstage, and Roger was out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay, so …" Mark spoke slowly, his mind speeding past him and what he wanted to be concentrating on. He tried to grasp onto his thoughts. "Benny, I was thinking we could co-write."

Benny nodded. "Cool."

"And you guys will act – " Mark swallowed. "Roger, too, if he shows up."

Maureen and the three other girls he had chosen nodded.

"So, for you, until Benny and I get this written, you can pretty much hang out – but today I thought we'd throw around some ideas."

Maureen stayed uncharacteristically quiet through the period, but everyone else spoke freely and at the end of class they had a number of ideas for a short piece.

After the bell rang and everyone headed for the door, Mark jogged after Benny.

"Hey, Benny, come over tonight and we'll work, okay?"

Benny nodded. "The sooner we have this thing written, the sooner the chicks can start learning the lines."

Mark looked at him. "So … what's with you and Maureen?"

Benny stopped and looked at Mark. "Huh? Nothing. We hang out like we always did."

Benny resumed walking, and Mark followed, thinking.

"So come over around 6:30, that sound good?"

Benny nodded.

Mark held up the paper on which he'd scribbled notes as everyone talked. "This is all good, but I have a couple ideas of my own that … that I really want to include, okay?"

Benny nodded again. "I really don't care, man. It's all just a grade to me."

- - - - - - - - - - -

Mark counted every day without ever acknowledging to himself that he was. Roger had skipped drama for three weeks in a row now. Mark had gotten one of the other girls to temporarily play his part as well as her own. Benny would play the part in a pinch, but Mark hadn't told him to start learning the lines. Not yet.

He'd also written a scene for their show that he hadn't shown anyone except Benny, saying the script wasn't completely done. He wanted to wait … just a couple more days. Because if Roger didn't show up, it didn't matter anyway.

Mark had tried talking to Roger in the halls, but Roger had kept up the ignoring act. He'd even climbed to the school's roof one Saturday, thinking that it would be calming the watch the sunset. But soon he shook his head in disgust at himself and climbed back down before the sun even began to drop. He knew he wasn't there for the fucking sunset.

The day Roger came back to class, Mark had seen him in the hallway before school started. Roger had pointedly swept past, not looking at him, and Mark had had to bite back an urge to just grab Roger and start yelling, demanding he listen. The urge to blurt out an apology, even as he felt furious with Roger for hiding from him like this.

Not like he could really blame him.

The fury left as quickly as it had emerged, though, and Mark turned to watch Roger walk away, his heart aching in his chest. He knew it was physically impossible, hearts didn't hurt, not really –

But his just – did.

And as he watched that familiar body striding through the halls away from him, knowing how Roger's body felt and how he smiled and made him laugh and feel easy and feel –

I love him.

Right in the middle of school, Mark slumped against a bank of lockers and sank to the floor, tiredly dropping his face into his hands as a mass of students passed by him. It was all so fucked up he couldn't even see straight anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Mark's breath hitched when Roger showed up to class fifteen minutes late. He and his group were sitting in the back of the theatre, doing another read-through and arguing over bits of dialogue and how they wanted to present it – what music, if any at all, to use – and Mark looked up, and there he was, talking seriously to Ms. Dalaine on the stage. Mark saw her nod and point to the back of the theatre and quickly ducked his head, his heart racing.

"Hey," Roger said, coming and sitting beside Benny. "I'm sorry I've missed so much – I just – shit went down."

The group nodded, and Mark turned to Rachel. "Are you ready to relinquish the boy's part?"

Rachel grinned. "Most definitely. It was fine and everything, but I prefer being a girl, thanks."

The group laughed, and Mark stood. "Listen, I have that last scene done – just let me go get it, and we'll go over it quick."

He walked slowly to the front of the stage, where his backpack was sitting, and brought out copies of the scene he'd finished writing over a week ago. Benny didn't like it, and he didn't expect the girls to, either, but Mark pulled the director card. This was the scene they were ending with.

When Mark returned, he handed scripts to everyone, including Roger, who quickly looked at him before training his eyes on the paper between them.

Mark sat on the other side of Benny, the rest of the group facing him. "Okay. This is our final scene, and it's between Maureen and Roger, so they can work on it while we work on the rest of the scene. I'll read Maureen's part," he said, watching as everyone scanned their papers.

Rachel looked up. "It just ends like this?"

Mark nodded firmly.

"But it just – leaves it. That bites."

Mark looked at his shoes. "Sometimes there's a beauty in imperfection – you can't always make everything right."

Trying to control the flush he felt building in his cheeks, Mark kept his face down until Maureen's suddenly shrill voice broke the silence.

"I have to kiss him?"

"Yes."

Maureen made a face. "Oh, come on."

Mark sneered at her. "Just pretend you're in a closet."

Maureen looked shocked for a minute before bursting into laughter. "Okay!"

Mark grinned at her, carefully keeping his eyes only on his friend. "You and Roger go over to those seats and do a read-through, okay?"

Maureen nodded and stood, holding out a hand to Roger. Mark didn't watch them walk away, but turned to his script.

"Okay," he said, "Let's start at the start."

They read for a while, still checking their scripts occasionally. Mark was a little nervous about that, but figured by the time their turn came to use the stage to block and rehearse it'd be okay.

Mark lost himself in the voices around him, speaking the words Benny and he had written. He was startled out of his concentration by Maureen suddenly calling his name.

"Mark?"

He turned towards her, trying hard to not look at Roger.

"Yeah?"

"I don't get this," she said, leaning over the back of her seat.

Mark frowned. "What don't you get?"

Maureen sighed. "Okay, so, she kisses this guy, they're all happy, and then she up and leaves?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Roger look sharply towards him. He steadily trained his eyes on Maureen, feeling heat flushing through his body.

"That's what happens."

"But why?"

"Well, see," he said, trying to not see Roger out of the corner of his eyes, "Your character – she's scared. And when he kisses her – " Mark couldn't help it; he darted a quick look Roger's way – "It's like she's wanted this so badly without even realizing – and it's like she got shoved into this whole new world all at once and … and lost her footing. Which is terrifying for her. She needed to get away to – to get her bearings again."

Maureen stared at him. "That's stupid. She should just kiss him back."

Mark shook his head slightly. "It's staying the same," he said firmly. "Everybody – get back to rehearsing."

Sighing, he turned back to Benny and Maureen turned back to Roger. But he couldn't help noticing the demanding tone of Maureen's voice ringing out behind him.

"What the hell are you smiling about?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Mark didn't know what he'd been expecting. Roger to walk over and ask him if he wanted a ride? Roger to just come over and start talking to him? Roger to – to – do anything at all?

Mark kept his head down as he walked through the mostly empty halls. All he knew was how disappointed he felt. He'd thought Roger would at least look at him, smile at him – anything. But there had been nothing.

Mark had even stayed in class longer than he should, ending up late for math class. But Roger must have been out the door the second the bell rang.

Mark sighed. He didn't want to go home, he didn't want to hang out with his friends, he didn't want …

Mark chuckled mirthlessly. He only knew what he wanted. And it looked like it was too late to get it.

He was almost home, hot and sweaty from the heat and exercise, when he heard a voice calling his name. Mark turned slowly, hardly daring to even hope.

"Hey," Roger said, leaning out his window as he slowly drove beside him. "Do you want to talk, or something?"

Mark smiled nervously. "Yeah. That would be good."

Roger brought the car to a halt and waited for Mark to walk over and get in. He turned to him.

"Where do you want to go?"

The roof.

"I don't know – anywhere's fine."

Roger nodded, pulling away from the curb. "Okay. We can go to my place."

As much as Mark had wanted this opportunity and had imagined many times how it would play out, what he wanted to say, he found himself staying stupidly silent, cursing himself. But suddenly everything he'd wanted to say seemed too revealing. He needed to know what Roger was thinking before he gave anything too important away – before he made himself vulnerable.

They soon pulled in front of Roger's house. He took the key from the ignition and turned to Mark.

"Was that directed at me? Today?"

Mark looked at him and nodded seriously. "I – I'm sorry."

Roger gave him a small smile, then turned and climbed out of the car. Mark hurried to follow, staying behind Roger as they walked into the house and Roger sat down at the kitchen table. Mark sat across from him.

"Why didn't you just say that to me?"

Mark looked at the tablecloth. "I tried to, but you left – and I thought, I don't know – you seemed really mad," he finished lamely.

"I was," Roger said roughly, eyes flashing. "You just ran out like I'd fucking assaulted you or something."

Mark frowned. "That wasn't it."

"Then what was it?"

He shrugged. "I just – I was scared."

"Of me?"

Mark lifted his head and stared into Roger's eyes. "Yeah, that was part of it. And I – I guess I was afraid of things changing."

Roger watched him intently. "And now?"

Mark shook his head. "Now I know that things had already changed."

They sat there a few minutes, quiet.

"Mark?"

Mark returned Roger's gaze only to have the other boy turn away.

"You're the only person at school that I've told about my dad."

Mark swallowed, unsure of how to react to that. He waited.

Roger cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling for a minute. "So do you think we can – I don't know, just go back to how it was before?"

Mark grinned. "If you think we can, yeah. I mean, that's what I'd want …"

Roger smiled. "Okay. You want some ice cream, then?"

Mark nodded, and Roger hopped up, going to the cupboard and pulling out two bowls. Mark watched him stretching up, his shirt riding up a little at the back, and quietly stood.

He strode over to Roger, who turned around just as Mark reached him.

"Wh – oh. Hey, what – "

Mark pushed Roger away from the cupboards and against the wall. He glanced up quickly to meet Roger's eyes and see them shine a little before leaning into him and pressing his mouth to Roger's.

Mark felt Roger's arms slowly circle his waist and pressed his body closer to the other boy's, trapping him and kissing him harder. He darted out his tongue and brushed it over Roger's top lip before kissing him quickly once more and then pulling slightly back.

"I wasn't assaulting you, was I?"

"If you were, I liked it," Roger grinned, sounding a little breathless.

"Good," Mark said, grinning at Roger before leaning forward again to kiss him gently, just savouring the feel of Roger against him for a moment. This time Roger pulled away slightly.

"When I said I wanted to go back to how we were, I wasn't sure if you knew I meant this," he said, smiling a little.

Mark looked at him seriously. "I didn't," he answered. "But I knew that this was what I wanted."

Roger's face broke into a quick grin that quickly faded.

"Good," he said, then leaned his head down onto Mark's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

After a moment of looking at the brown head next to his and smiling, Mark returned the fierce embrace. He swallowed, feeling Roger's heart beat against his. All the time he had spent agonizing – and he could admit now that that was exactly what he'd been doing those weeks Roger wouldn't even look at him – now, it seemed worth it.

And he would never be so stupid as to leave Roger again.

He felt Roger let out a long breath and pressed his cheek against the softness of Roger's neck. "I love you."

Mark could feel his stomach twist as Roger stayed silent. His breathing quickened, suddenly frightened that he'd ruined it, that Roger didn't feel the same and wouldn't feel comfortable around him anymore and then he'd be gone again, and now that Mark had said it, now that he had felt so much, he wasn't sure he could ever get over it –

Roger lifted his head and reared back a little, looking in Mark's eyes. He suddenly lunged forward, his lips smashing against Mark's as he lifted his arms and grabbed Mark's face, kissing him passionately. Mark could feel Roger's tongue sliding against his mouth and responded immediately, pushing into Roger's mouth and moaning.

It was still surprising at how easily the control Mark tried so hard to foster slipped away when he was with Roger like this. His heart was pounding against his chest and currents of pleasure were running through his body – but now those feelings that threatened to take him over were welcomed. He suddenly wanted to be overwhelmed and let everything about this moment wash him completely away.

Roger pulled away slightly and dropped a lazy kiss against Mark's neck, then rested his forehead against Mark's, lightly rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

"I love you, too."

Mark smiled, speaking softly as he leaned into Roger. "I know."