Ever After

I'm Probably Going To Forget To Name This Chapter To Match Its Contents

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This chapter is in Jack's perspective.

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No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of Mark's fingers grazing mine, the sense of the two of us having touched for the first time since we'd kissed. I wanted to shake the thought from my mind, wished to stop feeling him against my skin - if only it were that easy. If only anything were easy - the thought of Mark wasn't easy to handle, but neither was the fact that he was being bullied (because of me) or the fact that I'd gone back to being the person I hated. If only it were easy to forget about what'd happened - it didn't matter whether it was just during gym this morning or back when I was friends with Felix, for each memory was just as haunting, none more important than the other.

It was when I was with family that these thoughts affected me the most, however. Whenever I was called down for dinner, it felt as if the air had grown thick enough for me to have to gulp it down in order to breathe it in. My parents, sitting at the table expectantly, grinned as I came down the stairs, my sisters and brothers there, too, on the occasional Sunday evening. I always felt as if I were being watched, as if I were entering a group of Alcoholics Anonymous, not yet prepared for the entire "My name is Jack and..." I just didn't know where to begin with coming out to my parents... was it even worth it?

I thought of this as I endured the pain of stepping down the stairs, clinging to the bannister for support. Was it really worth such thought? Was Mark really someone I cared about? Or was I just acting out, finding a vessel to use as a breathing straw branching up and out of troubled waters? Had he just been in the wrong place at the wrong time... or the right place at the right time?

"There he is," my sister cheered from the table. "The vampire I've been hearin' about all day."

I ignored her snide comment as I leapt over the final step, taking my usual place beside her, across from my two brothers and other sister. My parents, as per usual, sat at their sides of the table; for some odd reason, the situation, one that couldn't be any more normal, gave off a sense of the supernatural, a sensation that couldn't be described by anyone short of Shakespeare. I tried to go about my casual grabbing at the food in the centre of the table, and yet even that felt odd... I hoped that it was nothing more than the odd, stinging sensation Mark had imprinted on my hand.

Their stares as I stacked food onto my plate were even colder than Killian and Felix's as I clung to Mark's hand, the scent of the food just as strong as the smells of the sweat stains on his shirt. I'd become accustomed to being stared at ever since I'd grown odd feelings for Mark, but stares from my family were simply out of the question, especially if they interrupted the dinners involving my siblings (who'd all run off to college by now). I sucked in a heavy sigh, finding it rather difficult to not be bothered by the elephant in the room.

A few minutes had passed before my sister ventured, "So... have you made any friends this year?"

I'd gotten used to this question after having spent nearly four anti-social years in high school, meaning that I was used to giving out my usual answer. I'd already cocked my eyebrow and squinted my eyes to turn in her direction (as if to say "Yer kiddin' me, right?"), just when I suddenly stopped myself, the look of the boy, wetter than I was down below, stepping out of the change room stall in the clothes I'd brought him. I cleared my throat before speaking, the feeling of Mark's name stabbing through my throat like knives against a cutting board.

"One," I said, seeing as I didn't care much for Bob and Wade. "Mark."

I couldn't continue even if I'd wanted, for my sister had decided to cut me off. "Mark? The same kid who spilled coffee on 'ya?"

I swallowed painfully, for I'd forgotten that she'd met Mark at the same time I had, getting a different first impression, one that didn't end up with her kissing him under the hood of an orange tree. "That's him," I said through gritted teeth, watching my mother rise to answer the ringing phone out of the corner of my eye.

"Funny," my sister added, clearly not wanting to drop the subject as much as I did, "because, last time I remember, you muttered that he was a 'fookin' idiot' as you stared out the car door. How did that blossom into a friendship?"

It's more than that. "It just happened, I guess."

"They were in a play together," my father added.

And experienced a lot of drama because of it. "An assignment, really."

"A play? Oh, I love plays!"

Then you might love to see how much Mark plays with my emotions. "It was just a project."

"Romeo and Juliet," my father continued, just as misunderstanding of the entire "shut up" stare I'd given to my sister just moments ago.

She doesn't need to know that.

"Adorable," my sister said. "Who played who?"

Doesn't matter. "I was a witch," I stated, ending any thoughts of her presuming I'd kissed him.

"But he was Juliet," my father said of Mark. "If you ask me, Seán would've done a much better job of Romeo..."

But I wasn't. "Could someone pass the peas?"

"That would've been so sweet," my sister said. "But it still doesn't explain why you sent me photos of Seán in a wheelchair."

Long story.

"'Juliet' wheeled him home," my father said, leaning in as if he had a good story to tell (one that wasn't his). "Okay, so the kid playing Romeo -"

"Could someone please pass the peas?"

"- and Seán fought through the pain like a trooper, o'course -"

"Would really love some peas..."

"- but the play went on anyway -"

"It's not a lot to ask for, really..."

"- an' the kissin' scene was -"

"Would someone hurry up and gimme the goddamn fuckin' peas!?"

Silence, followed by the sound of my mother still talking on the phone, numb to the sound of my yelling all the way in the kitchen. I hadn't realized I'd been standing until my sister placed a gentle hand on mine, plastered against the wooden table as if it were glued on. My father, jaw dropped, was staring in awe at my outburst, just as stunned as I was that I'd freaked out... what was happening?

"Um -"

"Seán!" my mother cheered, entering to wrap her arms about my neck. "You didn't tell me you won the prize for puttin' on the best play! Why did your teacher have to call me in order for me to find out about this?"

I couldn't answer, for my mouth was still hanging open, my voice struggling to speak through the swords lodged in it. "I..."

"Doesn't matter - you have to get to school early to go on yer trip! Ugh, I wish I'd known about this sooner - come on then, we need to get 'ya a new swimsuit! Your one from gym class just won't do, you see..."

She muttered this as she grabbed at my wrist, heaving me over to the front door, abandoning me from my family, their eyes still wide open in astonishment as my mother thrust my jacket into my hands, followed by my scarf and winter boots, saying "it was freezing." (Which, knowing my mother, meant that it was a "freezing" twenty degrees outside.) I put them on anyway, not wishing to disobey any given opportunity to leave the house immediately - I didn't know what'd just happened, and I wasn't waiting to find out.

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Hey, guys! Thank you all so much for reading - I hope you guys didn't mind this chapter! Some will be a lot shorter than others, so it will differ from time to time. :) It's just about what the chapters involve and how long I wish to focus on what those things are! Also, things will be a little bit more dramatic from now on - I just don't want it to seem like I'm making things more dramatic for the sake of doing so. Thank you all so much for reading, and I can't wait to see you all in the next chapter! (As per usual. ;)

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