Ever After

In The Early Morning

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This chapter is in Mark's perspective.

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There isn't much to say about what happened after Jack and I were caught practically cuddling on the couch, other than the fact that he sent us out the door but minutes later. Even though it was half-past five in the morning and the streetlights weren't even turned off yet, he, seemingly extremely embarrassed, shuffled us out in a quick pace, eager to have us leave before his parents even opened their eyes. I, unlike Bob and Wade (but probably like Felix), was delighted to hear that we were to leave so early, for it made me not have to come up with an excuse as to why I needed to leave much earlier than everyone else - if Jack hadn't kicked us out, I would've had to find a way to excuse myself in order to get to my shift at the Coffee House. The shift, following its usual routine, was long and uneventful, the exact opposite of my time spent with Jack: God, I would give anything just to be sitting next to the cloudless sky trapped within his eyes...

It was the next day that was the most eventful, for Jack ran up to me as I was on my way to our desk, surprisingly three minutes early. (Jack never arrived early, so this caused me to be extremely astonished.) His eyes, usually so beautiful and full of life, were more worrisome than words could express - I shot him back the same look of uncertainty, not nearly as prepared as I needed to be for what shot out of his mouth.

"The script," he said frantically. "It... it wasn't in my bag this mornin'."

"What!?" I exclaimed, my voice giving off its expected crack. "What do you mean?"

"It wasn't there," he repeated, his eyes darting to Felix, entering into the room. Whizzing past me, giving a gust of wind in his haste. I, tagging along, approached him as he clutched Felix's shoulders, his eyes now devious and filled with raging fire, an aggressive passion burning inside of him.

"You did this!" Jack yelled, overriding the sound of the dozens of students taking up the classroom. "What did you do with the script?"

Shaking his hands free from his body, Felix said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, motherfucker," Jack said through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you'd want with that script or what you'd do with it, but I don't fuckin' care, either. What matters is that you were alone in that basement at some point yesterday, givin' you the opportunity to do whatever the hell you plenty well please."

"What would I do with the script if I took it?" Felix asked. "It's just a script. A shitty one, at that. A kindergartener could write it."

"It's Shakespeare," I unwillingly fought, wishing that it was possible to take back what I'd said.

Felix, now attracted by my fighting words, stared me down, his blue eyes just as petrifying as Jack's. (Well, to be honest, no pair of eyes could even compare to the bewilderment hidden behind Jack's irises - they were an entirely different world themselves.)

"What the fuck did you just say?" Felix demanded. "Do you want me to stuff you in a locker, pipsqueak?"

"Don't fucking talk to him," Jack roared, my heart fluttering at his act of defence. "This is between you and I. What did you do with the script?"

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it as the bell overpowered the sound of his voice, sending all of the students to their desks as the teacher emerged, taking attendance. Killian, who walked in just as his name was called out, seemed to earn Jack's undivided attention, as if he were a celebrity who had just entered the room - surely, he was a suspect as to why Felix would have reason for stealing the script. As Mrs. Jefferson continued to call out students' names, I stole a glance over at Bob and Wade, comparing their answers from their math homework (as always), seemingly undisturbed by the fact that our Shakespearean play was at stake. I guess they hadn't found out yet, seeing as Jack may or may not have told them before my arrival - I'm sure he hasn't, for they would be freaking out as of now.