The Chemistry Test

19. muddy shoes and rehearsal blues

Day Nine

"So," Mark mused as we padded through the Lawn of Misplaced Flowers, "Where were you at lunch today?"

I hesitated, hoping he wouldn't make a big deal of it, "Oh, I sat with Zak, actually."

Mark's converse high top squelched as it sunk into a bubbling puddle of mud. I suppressed a laugh as he scowled and pulled it out, shaking the excess liquid brown off with a grunt.

"For Christ's sake." He grimaced at the mud puddle.

"Your shoe or me?"

He met my eyes, teeth nibbling at his lip piercing.  "Both." He stopped walking and heaved a sigh. "Mostly the mud, though." I blew a laugh through my nose and gave him a small smile, which he exchanged. "I'm fine with it, if you were wondering."

I paused, slightly taken aback. "Really?"

His smile widened over his shoulder and he pulled me into a warm embrace. "Yup."

I pressed my cheek against his chest and smiled. Whenever I worried about something pertaining to him, he always knew how to reassure me.  

"I don't know what I was worrying about." I mumbled against his shirt. "I was so sure you were going to freak out."

"Why?" His voice vibrated against my skin.

"I mean, it's Zak.  You guys go way back, right?"

"Yeah, but-" He hesitated, exhaling a breath that slid over my hair. "Something I've learned recently is that you shouldn't let your past control you.  So, if you want to branch out and make new friends, who am I to stop you?"

He pulled away to press his forehead against mine, keeping our eyes locked. "I've been selfish - especially lately, with the chemistry test and all - it's made me realize that my past with Zak shouldn't get in the way of your future."

I couldn't help the mile wide smile on my lips. I had wanted Mark to say something like this for so long.  Was it my imagination?

I looked up into his eyes, which were crinkled on the sides with genuine intent.  It seemed so out of character for him to own up to his actions like this--but maybe, just maybe--my best friend was starting to take responsibility for his actions.

I bumped my nose against his, unable to contain the smile on my lips.  I'm sure that from the outside it looked like a moment far too intimate for two friends to share, but I knew where Mark's heart was, and there was no way that his actions and words to me were anything but platonic.

There was no way.  

Plus, Gwyn was very clearly in the picture, and Mark's feelings for her were obvious.  Anyone who knew our group of friends knew that much.  

Giving him a short, tight hug, I pulled away and smiled, "You're the best.  I really appreciate you saying that, Mark."  

"Anything for you."  He smiled, and I knew he meant it.  "Come on, we need to get to class.  If I'm late to Theatre one more time, I think Gorveau is gonna blend me into one of his smoothies."

----

Rehearsal was just as crazy as ever.

Left and right, students were carrying lighting equipment, assembling stage backgrounds and furniture, practicing vocal warmups, and bustling around the Theatre department with excitement and chatter.  

With just five days until opening night, all of us were feeling the pressure of fine-tuning Juliet and Romeo to be as perfect as a high school play possibly could be, with the added element of Gorveau's perfectionist critiques for almost every other line.