lyrics used in this chapter are by Duncan Sheik!
Collins always enjoyed the school in the morning. Well, he never really enjoyed the school to begin with, but it was more tolerable without the students there, and in the gray light of the morning, it seemed almost peaceful. The halls and rooms were silent as he walked to his classroom, two bags slung over his shoulders and a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. As soon as he got to his room, he slipped a CD into his stereo. With the press of a button, he had soothing jazz music filling his room softly. He hummed along as he set down his coffee and spread papers over his desk, ready to be corrected. It was his morning routine, doing work in the morning as opposed to at night. Then, he found he preferred more… relaxing activities.
Usually, no one interrupted him until ten minutes before the first bell, when his first class started trickling in. So the knock at 7:30 surprised him. Collins looked up, disoriented from the convoluted philosophical theory of fifteen year olds. "Mr. Cohen?" A smile lit his face when he saw the blond standing timidly in his doorway, leaning against the frame.
"Uh, hi Collins… I- Sorry for interrupting, but my mom dropped me off early and I have nothing else to do and you asked me to stop by sometime - "
Collins cut him off with a laugh and a raised hand. "It's okay, Mark. I could use the break. Have a seat." He got up, grabbing his coffee cup on the way. "Do you want some coffee?" Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Mark slumping in a desk in the front row, looking like he had rolled out of bed and not woken up yet. Tired blue eyes peered at him from behind square glasses and he nodded. Chuckling to himself, Collins poured some of the java into a paper cup, bringing it (along with creamer and sugar) to the desk Mark had chosen. The boy was drinking it gratefully by the time Collins had sat again. "So, where'd you move here from?"
Mark pushed his glasses up his nose. "New Jersey. Butler, New Jersey to be specific." Collins found himself grinning at how Mark's hair stood up crazily after he ran a hand through it.
"Why, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well… my dad got a new job around here, but…" The teacher's brows knitted together in concern when Mark hesitated to say more. "You won't tell anyone, right?"
Collins leaned forward, putting his chin on his laced fingers. "Of course not, Mark. Whatever you say in here will be held in confidence, if you prefer."
The blond sighed, running a hand over his hair. "There w-was an… incident at my old school. My parents thought it best to relocate, since my sister's in college and all it didn't affect her and… yeah."
An incident? Collins thought about that for a moment. What could have possibly happened to this shy, small boy to make his family move away for his own good? Or maybe it wasn't for his own good, but a way for his parents to save face? He opened his mouth to ask more when the bell rang. Mark, clearly uncomfortable now, muttered a goodbye and dashed out, coffee still in hand. Collins almost called out after him but stopped. If he hadn't been intrigued by one Mark Cohen before, he sure was now.
Maureen sighed as she tumbled out of the car the next morning, tugging her bag out behind her and slamming the door. Coffee would be nice… She swerved around to the other side, linking arms with the boy who tumbled out just as clumsily.
"Being on time to school is overrated," Roger groaned as they wandered out of the parking lot.
"No shit," she murmured. "I fucking hate mornings."
Roger nodded in agreement, rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet. "We should skip first block more often. But for now, I've gotta go meet Angel and Astin. Rehearsal again."
"Okay, see you at lunch, baby," Maureen said, pecking his cheek before the two parted ways. Maureen turned to head up the stairs, intent on getting to her locker before the rush of freshmen girls gathered to adjust their lip gloss. "God, there are way too many steps," she puffed as she raced up them. Just as the words were leaving her lips, a rush of blond nerves barreled past her, nearly knocking her off of her feet.
"Hey, asshole! Watch where you're - Mark!"
"Maureen!" Mark exclaimed, grabbing onto the railing to catch his fall.
Maureen giggled, running back down the steps to meet him. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear, adjusting her backpack strap. "What's the hurry, baby?"
Mark felt his cheeks burn at the nickname as he tried desperately to catch his breath. His fingers reached up to push his glasses further up his nose, but were shaking too badly and he poked himself in the eye.
"Damn it," he hissed, stuffing his hands into his pockets, feeling sweat building on his neck and brow. "Uh… I don't know…" he mumbled, laughing nervously.
"Are you alright?" she asked, cocking her head curiously.
"Yeah, great, m'fine. Just great. Wonderful. Uh, sorry Maureen, I gotta get to class. See you at lunch?" he asked before shuffling off, running back down the stairs.
"Mark! Mark!" she shouted, leaning over the railing. "You better!"
She paused and watched as he scurried out the door, shaking her head before turning and dashing up into the hallway.
Oh wake me, I want to see the daylight
Save me from this half-life
Let's you and I escape
Escape from time
Well, come on let's fall in love
Well, come on let's fall in love
Come on, let's fall in love
Again.
Angel looked over at his boyfriend. God, there was something about his voice… it was so soft and sensual, but still powerful. Maybe it was just because they were dating. He shrugged, ending the song with a soft roll of his bongos. Astin and Roger both looked at him as one. They always said that it was amusing to watch him just after a song, when he was still bouncing to the beat. Apparently some people just didn't understand Angel's constant fuel of energy. If he didn't keep bouncing, who knew what would happen.
Astin got up and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his neck from behind, chin resting on Angel's head. Roger chuckled at the position. "Well, I guess that tells me who's on top," he joked, slipping his guitar strap over his head.
Angel felt the bright red blush rise in his cheeks. Astin, however, laughed and smirked at the guitarist. "You'd be surprised, Rog… Angel's pretty feisty when it comes to that type of thing," he muttered. Playfully, he growled and nipped the top of Angel's ear. Angel squeaked in surprise, hitting Astin's arm lightly.
"Astin Lucian!"
Roger just groaned and laughed good-naturedly. "Whoa, little bit too much info there, man." He deliberately looked away as Astin continued his attack on Angel's ear. His eyes fell on the bulletin board… the one that was usually empty… Intrigued, Roger got up and went over to the poster, reading it carefully. "Guys… guys!" he called when they seemingly didn't hear him (although, Angel had an excuse: Astin was still biting his ear.)
Angel rubbed his poor ear with a pout. "My ear hurts, you ass," he whined, shoving Astin lightly.
"Aww, desolé, magnifique… you're just so sweet, I want to eat you up…" Astin growled again, making Angel giggle.
"Ahem. If you two are finished being sickeningly romantic, I have good news." Both of them made faces at him before looking interested. "There's a battle of the bands coming up!" Huge, identical grins broke out on all three of their faces. Before they could start planning, the bell rang, signaling their first class. "Fuck. We'll talk about it at lunch, then…" With noises of agreement and a soft smacking of lips, Astin and Angel departed for their first class while Roger stayed put, thanking God for first block music theory… he could take a nap. Murray wouldn't care. He knew all this shit anyway.
"Morning Roger. We're gonna be in the lab today, so we'll be… interrupting you. Sorry, man." Murray patted his shoulder, ignoring Roger's groan. He wouldn't be getting his nap today after all.
Maureen grumbled as she slipped out of History class, having been just awoken by the bell to find that there was a three page paper due next class on the civil war. Fuck that, she thought as she dug around in her purse for some change. Lunch had to be her favorite period - plenty of time for socializing and eating and there was no homework. Her sneakers clunked across the tar as she crossed to the cafeteria and hurried to get in line. A disgusted look washed over her face as she poked around in the fridge of the snack bar line, searching for something edible. Settling on a salad, she grabbed a Pepsi and paid.
She grinned, seeing the large clump of bodies gathered around the usual table and she jogged over, wiggling in between Roger and Joanne, setting her lunch down onto the table. "Hi guys," she chirped, peeling off the lid of the plastic container.
"Hi Maur," Astin greeted, his arm securely around Angel, a chicken burger in his other hand.
"What is that?" Angel asked, noticing the strange looking lump of food in his boyfriend's hand.
"Chicken burger," he mumbled, his mouth full.
"That's disgusting," Angel replied, his face twisted in repulsion.
"It doesn't look like a chicken burger," Joanne pointed out, spooning up some yogurt.
"Oh, come on," Astin frowned, swallowing. "It tastes fine."
"Hey, where's Mark?" Maureen asked, noticing the empty space on Angel's side of the bench.
Angel and Astin exchanged looks before shrugging.
"I dunno, baby." Roger shook his head, busy scribbling on a notepad.
"What're you doing?" she asked, forgetting the lack of the filmmaker.
"Making plans," he replied. "There's a battle of the bands coming up."
"Oh, you guys are competing?" Maureen asked excitedly. "I'm totally going! We're going, Joanne," she said, turning to the girl beside her. "I'm going to make t-shirts and we'll wear them."
"As opposed to eating them," Astin smirked.
Maureen glared for a moment before continuing. "You guys are so going to win."
"Look guys, we have groupies," Roger grinned, wrapping an arm around Maureen and kissing her forehead.
"Oh, there's Mark," Angel pointed out, glancing over the sea of students and waving cheerfully to the blond.
"Hey guys," he panted, approaching the table. "Sorry I'm late. I had to… print something."
"You okay?" Maureen asked, cocking her head slightly.
"Uh, yeah," he sighed, taking the spot beside Angel.
"Hey, there's a battle of the bands," Maureen said, completely forgetting that he'd come late. "Joanne and I are going, right Jo?"
"Right," Joanne said, forcing a grin.
"You wanna come with us?"
"Uh," Mark fumbled, removing the foil from his supposedly turkey wrap. "Uh…"
"Okay, good," she chirped. "It'll be tons of fun."
"Yeah, Maur's making shirts," Astin pointed out, grinning.
"Fuck off," she grumbled, rolling her eyes.
Mark chuckled softly, eyes looking back down at his lunch as Maureen cleared her throat. This was definitely going to be interesting.
Angel waved goodbye to Mark after lunch, having left him at his math class. He headed off to philosophy with a spring in his step. He loved this class. Collins had to be the coolest teacher ever, even cooler than Mr. Murray. He had all these far-out theories, thinking way outside of the box that the school attempted to squish them into in every other class. He felt free to express himself in Collins's room, like no one in there would judge him. Well, at least Collins wouldn't. The other students… well… they judged him every minute of every day.
He paused outside of the door, lingering in the empty hallway. Leaning against a row of lockers, he fell into his thoughts, as he was prone to do. He thought about what had happened the day before. If it wasn't for his friends, and Astin, Angel had no idea where he would be by now. Probably in some institution or special school for kids who couldn't handle the pressure of their peers. He hated himself a little bit for not being able to keep his cool when things like that happened. Falling apart every time Benny heckled them or when people gave them disgusted looks or sneered at his bracelets and rings was not something he was proud of. He hated that Astin had to calm him down and keep him from crying and completely falling apart. Angel sighed sharply.
The bell jolted him out of his thoughts, and he slipped into Collins's room, taking his usual seat in the front. He was ready to kick some philosophical ass today. At least that was one ass that he could kick.
Astin tapped his pen impatiently against his notebook. He needed to write and he needed to do it now. All he wanted was some blank sheet music, a keyboard and Angel. He always wrote better when Angel was around to bounce ideas off of. He told Astin point-blank when something sucked, which he was grateful for. Thankfully, the bell rang only moments later. He sprinted out of the room, Maureen at his heels, hollering questions after him. "Astin!! Where the hell are you off to like your ass is on fire?"
The blond ignored her, making a beeline for the music room. He slipped into the music lab, waving to Mr. Murray as he passed his office. Astin tossed his bag on the ground before putting on a pair of headphones and setting his fingers on the keys. He picked out a soft, sweet melody, his boyfriend's face hovering in the black behind his closed eyes. He didn't even hear Maureen come in, muttering under her breath about crazy, piano-playing boys and how guitarists made much more sense. When he finally opened his eyes to start composing, he jumped a bit. "Mo! When, uh… when did you get here?"
"I followed you, dumbass. You were supposed to come out with me, Roger and Angel, remember? Thursday, we go get coffee and procrastinate?" She kicked his shin gently, raising her eyebrows at him.
He groaned. "Shit… Sorry, Mo, I'm gonna have to take a rain check… but send Angel down here, will you? I need him to be here."
She sighed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Fine. Don't say I never did anything for you."
Astin grinned at her as she walked out. "Love ya, Maur!" He chuckled and turned back to the keyboard, pulling out some sheet music to scribble notes down. A melody appeared easily, but he fidgeted with his pencil, chewing on the end, awaiting Angel's arrival. His boyfriend would help make everything make sense.
Maureen shook her head as she left the music lab, grumbling to herself as she tried to think of where Roger might be at the moment. She'd already tried his car and he wasn't in the music lab with Astin.
"Detention," she sighed. "That moron."
She was not thrilled about having to climb the flight of stairs loaded down with binders and other books and cursed loudly as she approached the history wing. She paused for a moment, listening for voices. The faint bubbly laughter of Angel fluttered down the hallway and Maureen made a beeline for Collins' room. She lingered in the doorway quietly as Roger carried on a tense argument with the professor, debating whether or not black was actually a color.
"It is," Maureen grinned from the doorway, siding with Collins.
Roger frowned and sank back into his chair, sulking as Collins threw his arms up in a victory pose, Angel giggling as he did.
"Even the girlfriend is against you, Davis," Collins teased, sinking down into his rolling chair and gliding back behind his desk.
"Maur, come on," Roger groaned.
"Ang, Astin would like to see you," she said, ignoring the whines of her boyfriend. "He's down in the-"
"Music lab," Angel finished, smiling as he hopped down from Collins' desk. "See you guys later. We'll go for coffee tomorrow or something."
Maureen waved before dropping down on top of Roger's desk. "What'd you do this time?"
Roger glared up at her, still pouting and sighed.
"Skipped class," Collins said, flipping through his grade book, sliding his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.
"Dumbass," she said, whacking him in the back of the head gently. "You fucked up our coffee date."
"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, folding his arms over his chest. "Don't hit me, woman."
"Don't take that tone with me," she scowled, sticking her finger in his face, fighting off a smile.
Roger glared at her, growling slightly before nipping at her finger.
"Alright you two," Collins scolded, not yet looking up from his grade book.
"Hey Collins," Roger said, his arms wrapping around Maureen's hips, glancing around his girlfriend. "Is there annnny chance you'd let me out of detention early?"
Collins scoffed, chuckling quietly, his eyes lifting from the notebook. "What's so important that you can't find time to hang out with me?"
"See, there's this thing next weekend-"
"The battle of the bands!" Maureen exclaimed excitedly.
"Yes, thank you baby. And my band is entering the contest."
"I'm going to watch!"
"And Astin is working on a new song. We need to rehearse and figure out who's singing and-"
"I'm making t-shirts!"
"And my fingers are itching. I gotta play, man. You know how it is."
"Joanne and Mark are going with me."
Collins folded his arms across the desk as Roger spoke, Maureen butting in every couple of words. His brow wrinkled slightly at the mention of the names. "Mark?" he asked, lowering his glasses on his nose.
"Yeah, Mark Cohen," she replied. "He's new."
"Yeah?" Collins asked. "What do you know about him?"
"He's nice. From Jersey. Kind of a nervous kid. I don't know him very well. I've been showing him around a bit."
Collins nodded, picking up on the way Roger stared, listening to the interaction. He figured he shouldn't be too nosey and dropped his gaze back down to the grade book.
"He in your class?" Roger asked, poking Maureen in the ribs, causing her to squirm and squeal.
"Hey, I'll let you out early this one time, Davis," Collins murmured. "You go practice, but you better win the contest, alright?"
"Yes! Thank you! We definitely will." Roger shot out of the desk, scooping up his bag and grabbing onto Maureen's hand. "You're the best!"
"Don't tell anyone about this," he murmured quietly. "Get out."
"Thanks again," he grinned, tugging Maureen towards the door. "We'll go get Astin and Angel real quick and get coffee…"
Collins shook his head, smiling as the couple left. He picked up his red pen and opened up the folder of to be corrected papers. He paused, taking the first essay out, Mark's face flashing through his head. He groaned softly, squeezing his eyes closed, resting his forehead in his hand. This could not be happening.
Mark collapsed on his bed with a sigh. Oh, fuck it had been a long two days. He was still nervous about being in the new school and new classes and a new town, but he had lucked out with the people he'd found .Maureen, Roger, Angel, Astin, Joanne… they all seemed like a sort of family. Mark would kill to have those kind of friends, the kind that wouldn't judge you or dump you the first time you did something really stupid. He'd never had those kind of friends. Sure, he'd had a few back in Jersey, but none of them were that close or loyal. They hadn't stuck by him through the… incident. They'd run at the first sign of trouble, leaving Mark to deal with all the shit on his own.
He took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. As he had been doing since it happened, he pushed the thoughts of that time into the back of his mind. Mark would put off telling his new friends about it until he couldn't avoid it anymore. He'd… He froze, a chill trickling down his spine. He'd almost been forced to tell that teacher, Collins this morning. His stomach turned at the thought of revealing what had happened.
Okay, happy thoughts, happy thoughts… Mark forced himself to think of what would be happening the next weekend. Battle of the bands. Astin had somehow found out about his hobby of filming, prompting Roger to beg him to film the concert. And of course, once he had agreed, Angel insisted on giving him a makeover. "Every part of the band had to be attractive, and that includes the promoters, Marky!" Maureen had backed him up. "Yeah, even the groupies will look hot, right, Joanne?"
Mark smiled tiredly, his eyes sliding shut. He loved that he had friends like that after one day. But for some reason, when he thought about school, the first face that popped into his mind was that of the teacher. Collins. He could feel his cheeks heating and his heart fluttering just thinking about him. Maybe it was hero worship or something like that. Mark certainly did not have a crush on him. No. He didn't. He couldn't. It was something like that that got him into trouble before.
Damnit. No. Mark rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. No, he was going to find a nice Jewish girl and date her and marry her and have kids so his mother wouldn't have a heart attack… again. His loud, exasperated sigh was muffled into the pillow. This was a new start. So why did it feel like he was just going back to how he was before?