Why be the judge? (Septiplier)

Chapter 8

MARKS POV

I walk home early on Wednesday, so I can get ready to go to Jack's place. I'm so nervous that I'm shaking. But why am I so nervous about someone giving me help with something I struggle with? I pass it off as embarrassment as I unlock the door to the house. I walk straight upstairs, dump my stuff in my room and take a shower. I dress into a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt. I pull my text book and calculator out of my bag and sit on my bed. I check the time and see that I still have half an hour till I need to head over. So I open Facebook and see a request. They've called themselves IrishGayBoy ;). I know who it is straight away and press accept. I scroll through a couple more posts, most of which are Ethan's, put my phone in my pocket, grab my stuff and head across the road.

JACKS POV

Knock, knock! It's him! I'm so excited, yet nervous at the same time. I run down the stairs and down the hallway. Yanking the door open, I see a pile of red, wavy hair and bronze skin.

"Hey, I hope I'm not troubling you by doing this," says Mark.

"Oh no, not at all. After all, I am the one who asked if you wanted my help," I answer, "come in, and we'll get started."

He walks in and I show him upstairs into my room and tell him to sit, so I can grab a chair from the dining table.

MARKS POV

As I sit in Jacks room, I take in everything. His walls are painted a pastel green. In the corner, an electric drum kit. Directly across from his bed is a bookshelf, that the shelves height can be changed. They are changed to have books on every row, except one that contained a large TV. On his desk, were stacks of homework books and folders, which when I look, are filled with sheet music for playing his drums. When I turn, I get the shock of seeing Jack smiling at me, with a chair in his hands.

"So, I'm taking that you like the look if my room?" he asks. My cheeks turn hot and I only hope they haven't turned red. He places the chair down next to the one I'm sitting on and opens my text book.

"So, where do you want to start?" he asks.

"Well, I seem to have the most trouble with algebra. Could we start there?"

"Sure. It's a good thing that I don't have too much trouble with that topic." He agrees

And we begin the difficult task of adding a's and b's.

JACKS POV

The hours come and go by quickly. And after what feels like minutes I say, "Looks like your two hours are up" and that's when I think I fuck up majorly. At the exact same time we turn to look at each other. Our noses touch. And when I'm about to pull away and apologise, he pulls me closer to him. And kisses me. I don't resist, instead I close my eyes and only pullback when he does. He gives me a small smile, then as if he realises what he just did, quickly grabbing his stuff and speeds down the stairs calling out sorry, before running out the door, leaving it open behind him.

I see it all from the top of the stairs.

I walk down slowly then plonk myself on the third stair and start crying silently. With happiness or sadness I don't know, but I cry until I hear a car in the driveway. I quickly walk up the stairs, grab some stuff and head to the bathroom. I don't do much in the shower, mostly just stand there, hot water running down my back. Before I get out, I do one thing. I pull out the razor, hidden between my clothes, and add one more mark to my arm.

MARKS POV

He tells me it's time to leave, so I turn and face him to say thank you. But at the exact same time he turns to face me and we are touching noses. I don't have the slightest clue of what comes over me, but I turn my head slightly and lean in. He doesn't resist, instead it felt like he leaned in as well. I pull back after a few seconds, and immediately realized what I just did. I snapped my book shut and speed out of his room and down the stairs. "I'm sorry for everything!" I call out to him on the verge of tears. Racing out the door way and across the street to my house.

At first only one thought come to mind as I lay in bed; what came over me? But the more I calm down the more questions roll through my head. I couldn't take it anymore, so I do something I didn't think I would ever do. I open my pencil case, and grab a small screw driver from my desk draw. In a matter of seconds the pencil sharpener is pulled apart. I stand in front of my mirror and take a good look at myself. What kind of person would care about me in that way? A single tear rolls down my cheek as I drag the blade across my wrist. I know that everyone hates me. Even Jack does now. But why did they hate me so much?

With my wrist wrapped up after lying to my mum that, I dropped a glass and cut myself while cleaning it up, I lay in bed thinking about what school will be like tomorrow.