Part 6:2

MARK

Mark’s never had an anxiety attack before, he’s had his share of stage fright, but there’s a first time for everything. Just like there’s a first for spilling hot soup on Jackson’s crotch even if he’s his boyfriend and he should treat him better. Mark’s heart rate spikes in his chest as if jolted by a bolt of lightning.

“He’s teaching me.” Mark’s mouth moves faster than his brain can think up a white lie to cover his tracks. “Um…yeah, we hang out.” Keep it cool, Mark thinks even though he can feel sweat on his palms. “Right?” He turns his head to the side and stares at Jackson.

Jackson narrows his eyebrows for a few seconds that seem to drag out forever. “Oh yeah, I’ve been showing Mark my hobbies. Except fencing, he might hurt himself.”

Mark chuckles to ease his nerves, “What?” He voice almost squeaks, his throat tense. “I would not.”

He’s going to have to have a talk with Jackson later. Though, he may have to listen to the whole sounds of Italian choirboys singing psalm hymns CD to calm down before doing so. Mark swallows to clear his dry mouth.

“That sounds nice,” Mark’s mom cuts in, “don’t get into too much trouble. Take Bam Bam with you sometime.”

“Ehh, they should have fun while they’re young,” Mark’s dad says, raising his eyebrows and smiling.  His mom picks up her wine glass and takes a sip in response.

Bam Bam clacks his chopsticks against his plate, “Yeah, please. I want to learn American culture. Show me Mark.”

Relaxing, Mark releases some of the tension between his shoulders with a quiet breath. “Don’t you learn that with Joey in school?” Mark gives his younger brother a glance, leaning in around bodies. Somehow Mark’s always dragging Bam Bam around on the weekends when that should be his brother’s job since they’re close in age.

“Yeah, but we see each other all the time. I want to see the life of a college student.” Bam Bam speaks with such confidence in his words that Mark has a hard time coming up with an excuse to turn him down.

“Uh…” Mark picks up a piece of broccoli on his plate, “I guess we could sometimes…” Darn, there goes more of his free time with Jackson. “Jackson?”

Jackson’s wiping his mouth with a napkin, “What?” His eyes widen. “Oh, sure, you can come over someday.”

“Awesome,” Bam Bam’s says with a cheerful tone. “Oh, oops.” Mark snorts; his eyes had been following Bam Bam reaching for more meat with his chopsticks. The piece of chicken trapped in between the chopsticks travels halfway to Bam Bam’s plate before it escapes and falls on the table with a splat.

Bam Bam’s mouth falls open, “I dropped my chicken!”

JACKSON

His collar has been feeling tighter as the night at Mark’s house has progressed. Enough to the point where Jackson’s popped the two buttons open and stretched out the collar. These preppy clothes stifle his inner swag trying to burst through, and his balls miss all the room they had in his drop crotch pants.

The things he’ll do for Mark.

“Do you want to stay for a bit, or do you have to go?” Mark asks as they’re loading the plates into the dishwasher. To the side, Mark’s dad is sealing up the leftovers in containers for the fridge giving Jackson no room to cop a feel when Mark bends over.

“Well, I don’t have to be up super early tomorrow morning. Want to finish that game we were playing earlier?”

“Game?” Mark stuffs another glass into the top drawer. “Oh. Yeah, that game. Let’s.”

Jackson hands Mark the last plate in his hands. “Cool.” However, the memories of Jesus and all his friends linger at the thought of Mark’s bedroom.

Finished, Mark rolls the drawers back and shuts the dishwasher after tossing in the soap pack. Jackson leans against the countertop while Mark starts the cycle, admiring how nice Mark’s house is on the inside for the nth time. No matter how many times he comes to Mark’s house, besides all the religious paraphernalia, it’s almost straight out of a magazine.

“What game?”

Speak of the devil itself in the form of a certain foreign exchange student himself.

Bam Bam moves across the room from the dining table to where Jackson and Mark are next to the dishwasher. “What game are you playing?”

Damn this kid, Jackson thinks, next he’s going to ask if he can play too. There are only so many times Bam Bam can Jackson at getting what he wants. Jackson wants to pet Bam Bam on the top of his fluffy little multicolored head then menacingly tell him to back off, Mark’s mine.

“Can I play? I like video games.”

The edge of Mark’s bed frame is digging into Jackson’s back, so he shifts to try and get into a more comfortable position – it doesn’t really work. In front of him, his game character ascends up a metal staircase in an abandoned bunker. He’s searching for ammo, or a new gun, or something better than the handgun he picked up earlier in the game.

Out of nowhere, Bam Bam’s character pops up from behind a crate and opens fire.

“Bam Bam,” Jackson says in frustration, “stop shooting at me we’re on the same team!” His fingers button mash on the controller at the sudden confrontation while he tries to run away. Seconds later his character collapses on the floor. “You just shot at me, again.”

“Oops,” says Bam Bam, but Jackson detects no hint of remorse in his inflection. “I forgot the rules.”

Jackson rests his controller on his lap while he waits for his character to respawn after what must be the third time he’s been taken out by Bam Bam. If Bam Bam wants to play this way, he’s going to snipe the little bastard next time he finds him out in the open. Not that he holds grudges, but he does.

“Mark, Bam Bam keeps killing me.” Jackson turns to glare at Bam Bam, who’s sitting in between him and Mark on the floor with their backs to Mark’s bed.

“So?” Mark’s eyes quickly flit from the TV to Jackson then back to the TV again.

Pointing at the TV with his controller, Jackson frowns. “We’re on the same team.”

Mark tilts his head to the side, “Bam Bam, stop killing Jackson. You’re on the same team.”

A smile grows on Jackson’s face; sweet victory is his since Bam Bam usually stops once threatened by Mark. At least, the method has worked for Jackson in the past, a few times. He pulls his legs in and crosses them. His character is ready to rejoin the game, and with a push of a button he’s ready to start all over, again.

“Okay,” Bam Bam says, “after this time.”

Jackson moves his character forward not even four steps when bright red splashes over his screen and then his split view fades to black.

“God damn it Bam Bam! I just came back.”

By the time Jackson steps out of the Tuan’s front door, the sun is all but a sliver of orange on the horizon. Behind him, Mark follows with bare feet against the concrete up to where Jackson parked his motorcycle.

“Sorry about Bam Bam,” Mark says as Jackson’s picking up his helmet. His voice is low and soft as he speaks.

“It’s okay.” Jackson puts his helmet on, securing it to his head with an extra push. “I had fun.” Sure, he’d have had more fun if it was just he and Mark, but even with Bam Bam stabbing him in the back he enjoyed it.

“Thanks for coming over, I think…I think it went well.” Mark crosses his arms and rubs his skin with his hands.

Jackson chuckles, “Went well? I thought I was going to myself when your dad asked me what I was going to do after college.” He gets enough of that from his own family thank you.

“Yeah?” Mark purses his lips. “Well I thought I was going to have a heart attack when my dad asked what we do all the time and you started talking.” He grimaces and adjusts his arms. “You told Yugyeom.”

“Huh?” Jackson decides to let his keys stay in his pocket for the moment. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything about us to your family. I’m not a .” He sighs and places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I know it’s not easy. You know, it’s really ing hard okay. But, I would never do that.”

Mark face turns down to the ground. “Sorry…I just can’t. Not now.”

Maybe not ever, Jackson believes are the words lingering unsaid on the end of Mark’s tongue. Jackson doesn’t care about those things, but he does care about Mark. Sometimes he cares so much it scares him and he has to listen to hardcore rap music to calm down.

“Hey,” – Jackson squeezes Mark’s shoulder – “It’s okay.”

Mark holds his head up and there are splotches of red on his cheeks that weren’t there before. “Thanks.” He bites at his lower lip. “What about Yugyeom? He knows.”

“Oh, I uh, I told him.”

Mark shrugs off Jackson’s hand.

“He’s my close friend, I can’t hide things like that from him, he threatens me and . He is not innocent like he looks,” Jackson says, clasping his hands together. “But I won’t tell anyone else without you. That okay?”

Mark’s lips twitch, “Yeah. Okay.”

“But you should tell Bam Bam because seriously, he needs to know. I can’t put up with it anymore.” Jackson puts his hand on his hip to be dramatic, “He’s here, there, and everywhere lately. He so cramps my swag.”

“Did you really just say that?” Mark says with a straight face.

Turning away from Mark, Jackson kicks up the kickstand, swings his leg over, and sits on his motorcycle before Mark further harasses him with his emotionless stare. “Don’t question my swag.” Jackson frees his keys from his pocket and sticks them in the ignition, turning the key to start up the engine. “I’ll text you later? And, let me know sometime if you want to come or not to my fencing team’s celebration night next week.”

“Yeah, okay I will later. See you.” Mark moves out of the way for Jackson to make a short turn instead of backing out. “Bye Jackson.”

Jackson coasts to the street, then glances back at Mark standing barefoot in his driveway one last time. “Bye!”

When he sees Mark’s reflection smiling as he waves through his side mirror, and warmth spreads throughout Jackson’s body.

MARK

Arms resting on a floaty mat, Mark lets his legs drift out back without moving a muscle. Floating away in the middle of the pool is a relaxing way to spend a warm afternoon in the middle of the week. He hasn’t swum in a while and he could use the exercise. Also his parents tend to gripe about having to upkeep the pool when kids are still in the house and no one’s using it.

If there wasn’t the real fear of drowning like this, Mark could nap right here right now. Though, he rather enjoys breathing air and not chlorine treated pool water.

The sliding glass door to the kitchen opens, startling Mark into opening his eyes.

“You’re swimming without me,” says Bam Bam. He still has his backpack slung over one shoulder and must be straight from school. “Why?”

Mark shifts to let his feet touch the bottom of the pool; his toes just graze the bottom. “It’s hot.” He squints since the sun is in his eyes from the angle he is trying to see Bam Bam by the house.

Dropping his bag on the concrete, Bam Bam walks over and sits down at the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water. He hikes up the bottom of his shorts to not get them wet. “This feels good.”

Mark abandons his floaty and doggy paddles closer with intent to splash Bam Bam.

“I want to go back to the beach again. That was nice,” Bam Bam says, kicking his legs out. “Your friends are nice. Except Jackson.” He sticks his tongue out then laughs.

“Maybe in a few weeks,” Mark says, grabbing Bam Bam’s heels. Water rises to his chin when he uses Bam Bam to pull himself lower into the water.

Kicking out, Bam Bam clicks his tongue. “Why not soon?”

“I have to go to a thing with Jackson next weekend.” Honestly, Mark hasn’t decided whether he wants to go, but he’ll probably end up going. He doesn’t have plans, he could use getting out of the house after his exam next week, and he’d be with Jackson. 

“Thing?” – Bam Bam extends his legs out – “What kind of thing?”

Mark legs float out back behind him, “Adult only thing. Sorry no teenagers.”

“I want to be in college too.” Bam Bam slides his hands behind him and leans back. “No fair, high school is no fun.”

The mere thought of Bam Bam in college makes Mark glad he’s still a teenager in high school. He’s not sure he could handle an older version of Bam Bam yet. Sixteen year old Bam Bam is hard enough some days. May the good lord watch over his soul.

“You’re still a baby,” Mark says, keeping his head afloat over the waves Bam Bam’s making by sweeping his arms out. “Baby Bam Bam.” He smiles and Bam Bam frowns.

“You sure Jackson’s not your boyfriend?” Bam Bam says, teasing out his words.

A heavy weight presses down on Mark’s chest making him tense up. He deliberates between saying something and letting it pass. In the end, he clams up, mouth unable and unwilling to speak what’s weighing him down.

“Bam Bam for the last time no.”

The heavy weight against his chest subsides, but he still can’t do it. He’s lacking the shining courage Jesus faced with his adversaries he’s always been taught to emulate.

Mark holds his breath and submerges.

The quiet sound of computer keyboards, footsteps, and pages turning is Mark’s symphony for the day. Even though it’s background music boring enough to lull most people to sleep, Mark’s had an eight ounce coffee and is as awake as he’s going to get.

Clicking his pen, Mark stares at his notebook full of half legible notes in front of him. Ah, this must have been the day he was zoning out and half asleep. He rests his elbows on the table in front of him, reaches behind his head, and massages his neck. What he needs to get on this next exam is only a B.

Why does that seem like such an unbelievable goal right now?

Somewhere between deciding if he should rewrite this page of notes or plunge straight into the possible essay choices his table in the library is invaded. Jinyoung plops down at the chair to Mark’s left, backpack still on his back. To Mark’s other side, Jackson pulls out a chair to turn it around and straddle it – that’s not how you use a chair.

The first words out of Jackson’s mouth are, “Hey Mark, whatcha doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Mark fires back, flipping his notebook over so neither of them can see his sad excuse for notes.

“Class project,” Jinyoung says, “I need to find some articles to write on. Jackson came along.”

“Hey, I need to check out a book too,” says Jackson while resting his chin on the top of the chair back, arms lying boneless out at his sides. “And we found a Mark. What good luck.”

Mark rests his cheek on a bent fist, “I’m studying.”

“Really? You study?” asks Jinyoung as if he doesn’t believe Mark. Though, to be honest Mark doesn’t believe he’s doing much studying either.

“Leave me alone,” Mark says, groaning. “I’m tired.”

Jinyoung grins, face lighting up, “Jackson keeping you awake?” He touches Mark’s shoulder and lets out a quiet laugh with his eyes narrowing.

“ I wish,” Jackson says. “We haven’t gotten together since last weekend.” His lips droop downwards into a sad smile and half a pout, all of which make the razor accident he calls his eyebrows stand out more. “Classes . Practice . But I know all about , am I right? Or am I right?”

“Gross. Oh.” Jinyoung snaps his fingers, “Is Mark coming Friday? Mark are you coming with us Friday?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Mark turns his head to the side he’s resting against his hand. “Maybe? I don’t know.” He knows none of Jackson’s friends besides JB and Jinyoung, and he might die from sheer awkwardness.

“Maybe? You have plans?” Jinyoung says.

“No not really.”

Jinyoung smiles, “Then come for Jackson’s team’s celebration. It’ll be fun. Jaebum and I will be there. Come.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, Jinyoung likely means that JB and he will be in charge on him for the night. He can only imagine what kind of messed up things will happen when he’s with the two of them for the night. Then again, he might not want to miss this opportunity before his college career is over. “Well…”

“Hey hey hey if Mark doesn’t want to go he doesn’t have to go,” Jackson cuts in, lifting his head off the chair. “I know it’s not really your thing.”

Sitting up, Mark weighs his options in his head. He could either go along with Jackson and make some memories, or stay at home and watch a movie with his parents. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take him long to decide after laying out the options in black and white.

“I’ll go since JB and Jinyoung will be there too.”

“Sweet,” says Jinyoung, getting out his phone. “I’m going to text Jaebum. This Friday is going to be the bomb.”

Who taught Jinyoung how to use American slang?, Mark thinks.

“You sure?” Jackson asks as if he expects Mark’s going to change his mind again or something.

Mark drums his fingers on his notebook, “Yeah. You know, I think it’ll be fun.”

“Then get ready to get,” – Jackson lowers his voice – “ed up. You’re sleeping over that night and I don’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah okay,” says Mark. He always sleeps over at Jackson’s apartment after drinking. Though, to be honest he really only ever drinks these days with Jackson.

Really, how bad could a bar crawl be anyway?