The Broken Date

~1~

Jack's POV:

"Ouch!"

I angrily tossed the book across the room and looked down at my index finger as a small line of bright red blood appeared. "I hate paper cuts!"

I sucked the blood off my finger, making a face at the bitter taste. Looking into the mirror for the two hundredth time that hour, I swept my bright green hair out of my eyes, smoothing it with my hand that wasn't cut. For months I wanted to get it styled differently but Mark liked it the way it was.

Mark. I realized that I wasn't angry about the paper cut. I was angry about Mark. Where was he?

I looked again at the navy blue-colored watch on my wrist. Was it really five to two? Why do they make these trendy watches so impossible to read?

This isn't at all like Mark. He was supposed to pick me up at one to go skating at Forrest Rink. Now it was nearly two, and he hasn't shown up or called, or anything.

He had never done this before. In all the years we've had been together, he has never broke a date or arrived late without calling first. Good old reliable dependable Mark.

So where is he?

I sat down at my desk, then got up, then started pacing back and forth in my small room. I tripped over my skates and banged my knee hard against a bedpost. "Ouch!" If Mark didn't show up soon I'd be bruised from head to toe!

I hobbled over to my white desk, picking up my phone and punched Mark's number. I let it ring six times, eight.

"Want to play a game?"

The voice made me jump. I spun around to see my ten-year-old brother Chris holding a game box in front of him.

"Don't you know how to knock?" I snapped.

"Knock knock," Chris said. For a ten-year-old, he was a real wise guy. "Do you want to play?"

"No, thanks," I said, checking my watch again.

"But it's a great game," Chris insisted, dropping it on my bed and started to remove the box lid. "It's called Hungry Hippos. You see, you've got these Hippos and you've got to make them eat marbles. What color hippo do you want?"

"I don't want to play!" I screamed. "Can't you hear?"

Chris looked really hurt.

I felt bad that I yelled. It wasn't Chris's fault. "I'm sorry," I said quietly, putting a hand on his narrow shoulder. "I'm just upset Mark was supposed to pick me up an hour ago, and he isn't here."

"Don't worry about him," Chris said, a devilish grin spreading across his dirty face. "He probably just went skating with someone else!"

"Get out of here!" I laughed, giving him a playful shove out the door. "You've got a rotten sense of humor."

"I was kidding!" Chris insisted, grinning. Then he disappeared down the hall.

What a pest, I told myself. He's such a perfect, pesty kid brother. He must take "kid brother" lessons after school or something.

I struggled to read my watch again. Nearly ten after two. The idea that Mark would go skating with someone else made me smile. We had been going together for so long---since junior high---we never had those insecure thoughts that troubled other couples we knew. Our life seemed so certain, so steady. We would both graduate from Cloverhill High in the spring. The four years of college together up in Syracuse. Then we'd get married.

Our friends teased us and said we were already like an old married couple. But we didn't mind. We both knew we were in love. We both knew we wanted to spend our lives together. It was so nice, so comfortable to have everything settled.