Shivering as the cold early December wind cut through the thin fabric of his school blazer, Jackson crossed a disused rail track and entered a dark abandoned tunnel. There was a light in the distance and walking towards it he found a few people around his age or slightly older, some were spraying graffiti on the already vandalised walls, others were lounging around half asleep clearly high on something. 

Marching over towards Mark who was standing next to the wall with two spray cans in hand, drawing something intelligible, Jackson forcefully grabbed hold of his arm and started to physically drag him towards the exit. “Let go of me,” Mark screamed trying to remove his arm form Jackson’s tight grip.  

“What’s going on? Who the are you?” one of the older looking boys questioned loudly and attempted to stop Jackson from leaving with Mark.

“I’m his brother, who the are you?” Jackson retorted, his hand holding onto Mark’s wrist, his fingers digging into the delicate flesh, hurting him.

“Brother or not he doesn’t seem to want to go with you,” he replied while Mark continued to struggle against Jackson’s hold, a string of profanities leaving his mouth. 

“I suggest you mind your own Goddamn business, and move out of my way unless you want my fist down your throat,” Jackson stated in a threatening voice and with one swift move lifted Mark over his shoulder as effortlessly as if he was lifting a sack of potatoes. And moving past the boy he exited the tunnel while Mark cursed at him and repeatedly beat his fists against Jackson’s back.

“Put me down,” he screamed one last time before Jackson finally did as he said. “Why did you do that? Why would you embarrass me in front of my friends? You I hate you.”

“Some friends you got there,” Jackson shouted back. “A bunch of losers and wasters.”

“It has nothing to do with you. What right to do you have to dictate who I can and cannot spend my time with?”

“I’m your brother I am not going to stand by and watch you throw your life away like this-“

“You are not my brother,” Mark interrupted, but instantly regretted his words when he saw the pained look on Jackson’s face.

“I might not be yours anymore, but you’ll always be mine,” he replied. When Jackson suggested Mark found some friends of his own he never expected him to befriend one of the school’s delinquents, who barely ever attended school and introduced Mark to the rest of his loser friends, some of whom Jackson saw in the tunnel. Jackson was worried sick, Mark was never really interested in school but he never skipped classes until he met his new friends.  Jackson was also concerned over how he spent his time, it was well known that Leo and his group of Neanderthal friends were into all sorts, from drugs to thieving and that Leo himself had spent some time in juvie. The last thing he wanted was for Mark to end up like him.

“If you skip school again I’m telling Mother,” he threatened, knowing that Mother Superior would not tolerate such behaviour from any of them, but after the incident with the toffees when they were younger Mother had been even harsher with Mark, as she knew he was the true culprit and had let Jackson take the punishment for him.  Cowardice was one of the things she hated the most and could never forgive.

The next day Jackson made sure Mark got to school and went as far as to walk with him to his first class. “You are so embarrassing,” Mark hissed when Jackson followed him into his classroom. “I’m not a child you don’t need to walk me to my desk.”

“If you stop acting like a child, I’ll stop threating you like one,” Jackson retorted.

“Oh just off,” Mark snapped loudly.

“Very nice Mark, you always say the nicest things don’t you?” he replied sarcastically earning an irritated scoff and eye roll from his friend. “See you at lunch,” he said before exiting the room and heading towards his own classroom.  

Jackson set beneath the shade of a tree and watched his friends passing a soccer ball from one end of the grassy field to the other as they competed against one another. He would usually join his friends but after spraining his ankle two days ago he had opted to just watch them play. Silently he set observing his friends when he got startled by the sound of a messenger bag loudly hitting the ground next to him and Mark sitting down heavily soon after.

“Hello to you too,” Jackson sang further annoying his friend, who sat with his arms crossed over his chest his eyes focused on the boys playing in front of him.

“Are you not going to speak?” Jackson inquired and Mark remained stubbornly silent still not sparing him a glance.

“Dorito?” he said shoving the packet he was eating in Mark’s face. “They’re your favourite,” he said and couldn’t help smiling when Mark’s gaze shifted onto the packet in front of him, his forehead set into a frown as if contemplating on whether he should take some or not.  Slowly with his lips set into a pout he placed his hand in the packet to retrieve a handful of his favourite tangy cheese flavour.

“Oh Marky,” Jackson squeale