Summer to Mark was nothing more than the season he was born in. It was mostly days without anything to do, days with unbearable heat, days with storm and days of getting bored.

Mark spent eighteen of his summers, trapped in his room with no light because he made sure the curtain was not up, playing video games while munching on any snacks he could found on the refrigerator. If anyone sees him, they would think he was stuck on some kind of snow storm on a winter which forbids him to play outside.

Don't get him wrong, really.

Mark liked playing outside - mostly sports - but it was also a truth he can't deny that the Earth has been getting a lot warmer for the past few years, making it quite hard for him to even stand under the sun when summer comes.

So Mark, being a rational person, avoid the sun because he didn't want to get burnt nor did he want his skin to break out because of too much exposure on UV rays.

And that's how he usually spent his summer.

-

Lucas called him in the middle of the night, around fifteen to eleven, seeming drunk because he slurred all his words and hiccups between every two words. Mark was still up (unfortunately) and spent five minutes trying to decode what his best friend is saying.

"Cover my," Another hiccup, "shift."

Mark almost hung up on him right there and then but because he was such an angel, he did not.

He agreed to cover his friend's shift, after all, change his boxer to the jeans on the very top of his piled clothes and slides a band tee over his head.

Mark grabbed his phone and some cash and stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans before he went out of his room. His mother looked at him like he was crazy before she asks, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Lucas's workplace. Don't stay up waiting for me, Mom, I'll be back before two." He replied as he wore his shoes (a pair of worn out school sneakers that Mark never really wash).

He didn't wait for his mother's response, knowing that she'll probably only say 'ok' as he went outside his house before walking in the direction of the gas station.

Yes. His best friend work on the night shift of a gas station. Mark would totally understand if this was Los Angeles or something but their part of city was quite stranded from the central and as far as he knows, no one in the neighborhood is quite crazy to go out in the middle of the night (especially to refill their car's tank).

"Won't it be... empty? I mean, not to offend you or something but are you even going to get paid much?" Mark had asked the tall guy right after the latter told him about his new job but Lucas only laughed at him.

"That's like, the reason why I chose the night shift."

"Because the salary is little?"

"No, you dumb, I got paid just as much as the others but won't need to serve many people."

Unless Lucas might need to (read: should have) consider the fact that he parties a lot when he was choosing a job. Because this was not the first time this happened and Mark knew by heart that it won't be the last time either.

God, the things he does for a friend. Mark just hoped that he will go to heaven after he died because of this (because he deserves it).

-

When Mark thought it was going to be rather empty, he was thinking too highly of the gas station. It was almost half an hour past one (and his shift is ending in 10 minutes) but he only had one customer.

Is this what Lucas is doing every night then? Just sitting on the chair like he owned the place while playing with his phone, waiting for the vehicles that are not going to come anytime soon?

His thoughts were broken by the sound of engine rustling, a car pulling up at the customer spot and Mark jumped from his seat.
Oh, wow, what a nice car, he thought as he gazes over the pretty Red Mustang that seemed like the newest collection.

"How-" "Make it full, please."

The driver, a lady that didn't seems like she's any older than him said. Mark only nodded as he punched the numbers to the machine. He opened the fuel's cap, taking the nozzle and putting inside the hole. Fuel start flowing out and Mark took his time to stare at the girl who was now leaning at the machine instead, staring intently at a piece of paper.

She was very pretty. Her hair is light blonde (almost ash-y), and obviously dyed. It was tied into a french braid, with a few of her bangs left blown by the wind. Her skin is quite pale, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes are soft caramel which Mark realized right away that it's contact.

Mark was pretty distracted by her, only realizing his job when he heard a loud 'Thunk' that indicated that the tank is full already. He pulls out the nozzle and put it back in its place before he put the fuel cap back on.

"It's all done, Miss." He said and she finally pries away from the paper and looking up at him.

Mark swore her eyes flickered the moment they make an eye contact. A glint of mischief he can totally read was there.

"What kind of payment do you take?"

"Uh,” Mark had not seen any card-swipe devices so he chose a safe answer, “We take cash, Miss."

It seemed like she expected that. The lady stuffed her hands onto the pocket of her short shorts (that totally look nice on her legs, not that Mark has been staring at it) before taking out some cash and handing it to him. The guy took his time to count it and frown when he noticed that it was... too much. He knew people usually tip workers but this was-

"I'm paying for another service I expect you to agree on, Mister." She explained when she saw how he looked confused. Mark looked up at her and there she was, smirking, the mischief sign on his eyes still there, leaning against her car door, and looking so good in the black crop top and the white bomber she's wearing.

Mark could feel the heat rushing up through his cheek, and he was sure that he was probably red in the face.

"What- what service are you talking about?" He asked, unsure and quite flustered still.

The smirk on her face only widened into a grin before she pointed to the convenience store right beside, "Help me steal things from there."

It's almost two (he got half an hour left) and Mark was not sure his brain was still okay or if he was still sane enough and it sounds bad but she was so alluring and Mark ended up saying 'yes' to a trouble.

The girl only smiled more and Mark swore his heart is sent into an overdrive by then (and he would like to think of it as the adrenaline over her crazy idea).

-

She started her car before they go inside the convenience store, the engine not quite loud - and wow, once again Mark got fascinated by her car. Mark had been worried about leaving such a nice car in an open place, but the other assured him no one would dare to steal it.

Mark was not really convinced but he followed her anyway.
The bell chimes when they enter the store, and he could not help but noticed how she looked so excited - the grin plastered on her face doesn't seem like it will leave anytime soon. Behind the counter was another teenager, probably younger than him by the look that isn't even wearing the cashier uniform and instead of greeting them, she was still keen on reading the magazine on her hand.

The blonde girl signaled him to go to the counter and Mark hated himself for even agreeing - though he could really feel the adrenaline pumping up and he’s loving the sensation.

"You have Marlboro White?" Mark asked the girl in front of her. She didn't even look interested at all, looking up from the magazine only once to get a glance at her costumer.

The girl - Mark read the nametag that she put on her tee, 'Somi' - glanced back at the rack of cigarettes before she looks at him again, and after another second to her magazine again.

"We ran out of stock." She simply stated. Mark could understand why she looked so dead though (Who want to work at the convenience store at the 'zombie hours'? Maybe only Lucas is up for that).

Mark threw his head back, searching for the presence of the blonde nervously. He saw her between the racks, her hand skillfully grabbing all the foods in the racks and putting it into the plastic bag (Mark didn't know where he found it).

"You're not leaving?" Somi asked him, eyes still fixated on the magazine and Mark nervously look back at her.

"Do you have Marlboro Red then?" He asked, trying not to stutter or show any slightest hint of nervousness (How is that blonde so relaxed as if she was not out there doing a crime?).

Somi raised her eyebrow, "You're quite a smoker, huh." Mark only smiled as she finally went to the racks and starts searching for the pack of cigarette.

Actually, no, Mark didn't smoke. Second, he knew very well that this store only sells a few cigarettes brands - those that are cheap - and Lucas had told him that they never restock the cigarettes.

The blonde girl could be clearly seen now, and she signaled him to quickly make a run. Mark waited for a few seconds.

"Ugh, we ran out of-" "It's nice talking to you, Somi!" Mark shouted, it startled the said girl and her eyes widened when she saw the plastic bag the blonde brought was full.

"HEY! YOU SHOULD PAY-" Mark didn't hear what she was saying, and he was pretty sure the blonde girl who was now running in front of him didn't too.

They quickly went inside her car and the girl hit on the gas - and Mark went on his 'ride of the life' that time.

-

"Here, drink up." She tossed him a light beer that she stole earlier and Mark muttered a 'thanks'.

He couldn't help but stare at her again. What was she really? This pretty girl that now sits beside him was probably the craziest fellow that he had met in quite a while (or for the past nineteen years actually).

"Great! That's one down." Blonde - Mark was now stuck on calling her that - shouted all of a sudden before she took out the piece of paper from her pocket - it was the one from the earlier, definitely.

Mark eyed her, "You- you're not trying to like rob from all the convenience stores around here, right?"

She froze. God, Mark hoped he was wrong.

"Please tell me you're not going to show up on the news channels next week and I'm going to get jailed for helping you." Mark continued.

This time, she laughed - laughed at her heart's content - and Mark's worries disappeared hearing it.

"I'm not a robber." She simply said, finally looking at him and their eyes finally locked.

"What do you mean by 'one down' then?"

She smirked, "Maybe I'll tell you if we ever meet again next time."

"Are you also only going to tell this kind fellow right here," Mark pointed to himself, "Your name the next time we meet?"

The smirk on her lips turned into a simple smile instead, "Uhm... maybe yes?"

Mark only laughed (He’s quite losing his mind because it’s probably half past two a.m. by then).

"Well, I guess our little adventure ends here, Miss. I need to get home or I'm gonna be beaten up." Mark said and she nodded 'kind of' dejectedly.

"Am I not going to get a name too?" She asked.

Mark was hesitant for a few seconds because they were strangers - and not to mention, she might be a criminal - but the more he looks at her, the more those hesitancy leaves his mind.

"Mark."

She smiled, "Goodbye then, Mark. If the Aquila is telling me the truth then we'll meet again."

"The what?"

"It's a constellation, you uneducated fella."

Mark laughed at the diss, and she followed along. It was two in the morning, and Mark confirmed for himself that this pretty girl in front of him is crazy.

(Mark had never loved crazy things but this one could be an exception).

-

Lucas asked him to go out on a lunch on a Monday noon. The heat was killing it but the former was all prepared. He practically dragged Mark out of his bed, push him to the bathroom to shower because he's so sticky and sweaty, and turn off the game console by force - and Mark cursed him with a whole sentence of cuss words.

But still, Mark lose and got his dragged to the new fancy restaurant down the street. And that's when he felt alert.
Lucas never treated him food to such a nice place like this. God, Lucas blocked his number once when Mark stole a can of beer from his house - that's how stingy the tall guy is.

They sat down on the window seat, and Mark kept on looking outside because he was anxious.

"Bro, why couldn't you just believe that I'm trying to be a kind friend?"

Mark snorted, "In what universe could you be a kind friend? Bet you still hold a grudge over that one beer."

Lucas glared at him.

"Well, yeah, if you had asked for it nicely maybe I won't be mad-" "It's called being petty." Mark cut him off, the frown on his face getting deeper.

Lucas only sighed.

"Okay, maybe I do have a different reason." The guy blurted out and Mark rolled his eyes. He could already feel the upcoming disaster brought upon him.

It's not that Mark hated Lucas or something. They had been best friends since elementary school and has been stuck with each other like a chewing gum even until high school. It's a pity that they didn't go to the same university but even so, both of them still hang around a lot. That said quite much because Mark is not really the 'go outside and hang out' type of person.

The problem is, Lucas has a knack for making terrible decisions because of his impulsive personality.

"Wait- isn't that Nancy?" Mark spotted a girl he was so familiar with across the street, still quite far from the restaurant, looking all dolled up as if she was ready for a date- oh, wait.

Lucas was smiling at him sheepishly when he turned to look at the former.

"I ed it up and accidentally say that you're coming too so she would go."

"And make her stick onto me? Lucas- I've avoided her for like the past six months and now you're dragging me into this?"

Mark was mad. It's not exaggerated, nor the opposite. He was just mad. God. Everyone knew that Nancy had this weird obsession with him at high school and ever since he graduated, Mark had tried his best not to meet her.

He never properly reject her though - and Mark guessed that's where he's wrong.

"Well, then try and be a good cupid for me and her."

Mark wanted to smash a plate on Lucas' head but decides he didn't want to get charged for homicide so it's a no.

"I'm out first. Tell her I'm coming late, okay?" Mark said, hurriedly standing up and then he dashed out of the place, walking in just any direction because he didn't want to go back home.

“Or maybe I’m not coming again,” Mark hissed under his breath.

Ugh- what a waste of his time.

-

Mark was not really looking at what's in front of him, and he was pretty sure this human that bumped into him was also not looking.

He guessed both of them was at fault.

His phone almost slipped out of his hand but thank god, it didn't, because another hand catch it for him before it touched the ground.

Mark looked up, not expecting something but instead met with a surprise and a heart attack.

It was her. The blonde girl from the gas station but this time, her hair was kind of ash-gray even if it is still blonde and it's cut shorter from the other time, falling right below her shoulder.
They locked eyes for a second before Mark started out, "You-"

She didn't pay any attention to him. Instead, she looked back and instinctively, Mark also looked at it. An old man - covered up in a wet apron and sauces - was running toward them.

Mark looked back at her, and she did the same.

Her face changed into an amused face, and Mark felt a rush of déjà vu washed over him. He knew she was up to no good when he saw the smirk growing on his face. And she didn't give him much time to process what's happening because she already dragged him away, running like they are criminals - in which Mark thought they might have been one already - through the streets.

She didn't give him any word or any kind of explanation. It was only her hand holding his so tightly while they ran. Mark might have been insane because he actually liked it.

Liked the feeling of how fast his heart is beating (because they’re ing sprinting down the streets), liked the smile that was plastered on her face, liked the feeling of her holding onto him like this.

She pulled him on a sharp turn and he almost lost his balance.
She laughed a little when she took notice of it. Mark didn't mind at all.

They stopped after three more minutes of running and making sure that the old man could not catch up with them. Mark was panting, and so was she but neither of them lost the smile on their face.

"Hey, Mark." She finally, greeted him and Mark smiled.

"That'd be better if you say it a few minutes ago instead of dragging me around." Mark stated but he knew that she knew he was joking.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to," Mark nodded and mutter an ‘yeah, I know’, "But I was running away and I didn't want to lose you so I just... dragged you with me."

Mark hoped she thought the red on his cheek was caused by the sun and its overflowing heat and not her.

"God, what did you do this time that the old man even runs after you?" Mark chuckled lightly because this girl in front of him seemed to be such a troublemaker and yet, here he was, all around her.

"You saw the sauces all over him? That's my doing." She said, a proud expression showing on her face.

"What are you even doing that for?"

Mark couldn't help but get curious. Her idea seemed to be crazy things, and he wanted to know the origin of it. Was it for pleasure? Was it for the fun?

"I'm crossing things out of my bucket list." She simply stated.
Finally realizing that his phone is still on her hands, she quickly hands it to him before fishing out something from the pocket of her denim shorts and shows it to him.

That crumpled piece of paper he saw her holding that night. All the same.

Mark took it from her hand before realizing that a lot of things were written on it - some are crossed out with a bold red marker. He read through it, realizing that it was not just any kind of bucket list before he looked at her again.

"I'm trying to finish it out," The familiar amused grin showed again, "Want to help me?"

By then, Mark did not remember the whole reason why he's even there - the picture of Lucas and Nancy having a lunch together did not flash on his mind - and because the heat is quite crazy, and he was, once again, not that sane enough because of it, Mark said 'yes'.

(Whipped culture is that).

-

Mark would be lying if he said he wasn't expecting for more than this. He was expecting her to drag him into vandalizing the public phone, or to spray paint people's car but instead, they went to a garage to pick up her car and later on, drove out of the crowded city.

(The city is not crowded actually, but she called it like that, referring to the buildings that surround the streets).

What he didn't expect even more was to arrive at the beach. Mark could not remember the last time he went here, probably when he was a junior high student because he remembered not playing video games around that time.

"What's on your list? Diving?" He asked when the car's engine turned off.

The blonde (She's not blonde anymore, yes, but he still hasn't got a name so the name will stay) laughed and shook her head,
"I can't dive."

Mark raised his eyebrow, "I thought that's like the purpose of a bucket list. Like, you know, to make you do the things you normally can't and won't do."

She shook her head, and Mark was still confused. "My bucket list is just me doing activities to fill up my time because I'm jobless."

He laughed lightly.

They both went out of her Mustang and made their way to the beach. The girl came prepared unlike him who finds himself joining only an hour ago. She carried a bag, full of things he didn't know, and Mark realized by then that he was not prepared to go to the beach.

She was already wearing a black tank top, a thin floral shirt over it, and a pair of denim shorts. Oh, Mark had only noticed now that she was also wearing sandals. While he looked like he's out there for an opposite destination.

Soft blue shirt, tight black pants, and a pair of his worn out sneakers. Straight up looking like he's about to go some blind date. Which was not that farfetched, actually, since Lucas was the one who picked his outfit and after knowing his intentions, everything clicked.

Right- Mark forgot about his best friend for a moment.

His shoes already touched the sand by then, and blonde girl already rolled out a mat, placing her bag on it as she sits right beside it. Mark sat in front of her naturally.

"If you can't dive, what are we going to do?"

She shrugged and looked at the paper, her eyebrows knitted together as she read it thoroughly.

"We can make sandcastles," She sounded unsure, and mostly look like she's about to snap at someone, "I guess?"

Blonde flashed a smile at him, a sheepish one as if she was quite sorry for dragging him into this.

"Let me guess, you're not the one who wrote that bucket list, aren't you?" Mark asked, pointing at the paper.

She nodded, the color pink creeping up on her cheek, kind of embarrassed but not knowing why.

"My friend made this for me, and I was dared to finish it all. I didn't want to back off, so here I am."

Mark could not help but smile. Ah, so crazy girl is not that crazy actually. Maybe a bit out of it but not crazy.

"Then, let's do it." Mark said and she smiled, "We can't waste those genius ideas, can't we?"

-

It turned out that both Mark and blonde are really bad at making sandcastles especially since they don’t have any tool - other than the useless plastic shovels - with them. Mark only vaguely remember of making a sandcastle, he was probably 3 or something when he did it.

On the other hand, blonde admitted that she never made a sandcastle, to which Mark replies with a 'Wait, you really never did this even once?' and she just shook her head.

"I used to live in this big city. No oceans, just buildings. When I moved here, I was way too old to make this kind of thing." She explained, her hand pressing hard on the sand to make sure it was solid enough.

Mark did the same thing.

"It's never too late to do anything," He had quietly responded, his words barely came out as something more than a whisper but he knew the other heard him well because she smiled so genuinely at him.

Sadly, the sandcastle ended up as nothing more than a pile of solid sand after an hour. She suggested to just give up on this and Mark didn't see any future for their castle anyway, so both of them just agreed to leave it like that.

(Blonde still crossed out the 'Making sandcastle' though. When Mark pointed it out that they haven't really made one, she replied with a 'Well, at least we tried' with this grin. Mark didn't argue).

"Where are you going to when I bumped into you earlier?"

They had laid down on the mat. Blonde had a sunglasses to cover her eyes as she's facing the sun while Mark decided to just face her - she was a sight to see, anyway.

"Nowhere. I ditched my friend because he tried using me to get a date and I got... mad." Mark confessed, and she only hummed as if she was waiting for him to continue.

But Mark was at loss for words. What does she want to hear next?

"I'm not mad at him anymore. It's just... my instinct reaction, I guess."

She rolled to the right, both body and face finally facing him and she lowered down her sunglass to the tip of her nose bridge. Mark noticed that she wasn't wearing contacts anymore - her eyes were just dark, black. Hypnotizing.

"That's good to hear. I'm sure he doesn't mean to harm you in any way." She said, her hand reaching out to pat his head, at first. And after, running through the strands of his hair.

Mark heard fireworks - not sure where, and when, and who light it up.

Her hand settled down on his nape, and Mark tried not to get distracted.

"You're kind, Mark. I like that."

-

They left the beach with a set of wet clothes, damp hair, and shoes filled by water. None of them made a noise about it, both way too busy on laughing at each other for the whole trip back home.

Mark did not like the ocean that much. He detested water after he dropped out of the swimming team because of an injury - it reminded him way too much of his failure - but this time, he forgot about all his past memories.

All he saw was her smile, how her eyes have this twinkle on those black orbs, how she screamed at the top of her lungs when he tried to come for her and throw her to the sea as a revenge of her splashing water at him.

They were simply having the time of their life and Mark had a wish of stopping the time for a second.

And then they're back to the city, driving through the cafes, the arcades, the barber shop, the markets that were all too familiar for the two of them.

She dropped him off in front of the garage, Mark was okay with it as he knew his way back home and blonde apologized for not taking him right to his home. Mark was actually thankful that she didn't.

"You think we're going to meet again?" She asked, leaning her head on the car seat as a support.

Mark was about to blurt out a simple 'maybe' but then decides not to. "I don't know. What does the... uh, Tequila says about it?" Mark asked, a teasing grin on his face.

Blonde face morphed into a confused face but then to an amused face the next second when she realized what he actually meant.

"You mean, the Aquila?"

"Yeah, the... uh, the constellation." Mark said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly because he definitely did not catch the actual name of it.

"Well," Blonde looked up at the sky, "They're only there on the night sky so I couldn't see what they're trying to say."

Her gaze fell on him, "But I'm sure it would say yes."

Mark chuckles lightly. Goodness, they are indeed crazy people who try to lay their fate on some constellation that he never even see.

"Then, will I get a name right now?"

The corner of her lips stretched upwards, and she laughed a bit. Mark knew she was crazy, so he's not bothered.

"Irene. My name is Irene, Mark."

Mark smiled, "Then I'll leave now, Irene. I hope we can meet again like what the... uh, the Tequila-" "Aquila," The correction came right after and Mark could only laugh.

"Yeah, like the Aquila said."

"Yeah, I hoped so too."

Mark arrived at home, gathering a questioned look from his mother because of his wet clothes and a question of 'I thought you don't like playing in the water anymore?' in which Mark only replies to with a 'Not anymore, I guess. It's never too late to have a change of heart, Mom.'

His mother only shook her head, not really caring of what had gotten into him and how he had this change of heart. Mark is a teenager, anyway.

-

Irene was covered with bruises and scars the next time Mark saw her. It had been 2 weeks since he last saw her, it had been early August already - his summer only had a remaining of 3 more weeks.

Her hair was now all light blonde again, tied into a double bun. She was wearing a tight blue tee, with matching black denim shorts, not much different from him who was dressed in a pair of a white tee and an Adidas shorts - his old basketball team's shorts.

Mark approached her. The other didn't seem to notice his presence at all, all too focused on the thing that she had her feet on.

Skateboard.

Even by watching her for only 30 seconds, Mark knew very well that she couldn't do it just yet. She probably only learn it - and that quite explained all the cuts and bruises she had. She must have fallen a lot, he thought.

His assumptions were proven to be true right away. She was just lifting her right foot, almost placing it on the skateboard when it hits a rock, with her launching forward and fell on her knees.

Mark was surprised, mostly at how bad she was. But nevertheless, he ran to the girl quickly.

Irene was still wincing at pain, brushing the dirt off from her palms, when he offered her a hand. She looked up, and met with him who had this stupid smile on his face - a grin that seemed to laugh at her, but not that mockingly.

"Mark." She blurted out the obvious and he laughed.

"Yeah, hello there." He replied before his eyes gestured down to his hand that has been reaching out for like half a minute now, "Are you going to accept my help or not?"

Irene decided to just take his hand, and Mark pulled her up slowly, to make sure she was balanced the moment she stood up properly.

"Your knee looks bad." He said pointing at her knees that was uncovered, now all dirty and blood dripping from it.

"I was too enthusiastic on learning this," She chuckles lightly before she picked up her skateboard.

"What are you doing here?"

Mark showed her his other hand, a USB on his palm. "Buying new games to play for the rest of summer." He answered simply and she smiled.

"But I guess I'm going to have another plan now." Mark said all of a sudden, and Irene raised her eyebrow in confusion.

He only smiled and pointed at the skateboard she's holding, "Come on. I'll teach you how to skate."

Mark did not say anything (read: excuses) when he tried to grab her other hand, locking their fingers together and dragged her to another place. She did not say anything too and Mark realized this is just the way they are.

Maybe it's all cause they're a little bit crazy.

-

When Irene had told him that it had been a week since she learned it, Mark almost didn't believe her. Because skating was supposed to be easy - or was it really just for him?

Mark learned to skate when he was 13. He came home on his last day of school, finding a skateboard that was covered in a gift wrapper. He had hugged his mother so tight that time, thanking her numerous times for it and trying to learn it the next day.

He had been terrible at it the first time he tried, couldn't find his balance no matter what, and ended up with scars decorating his elbows and her mother telling him to be more careful when he wanted to skate.

The help came in the form of his neighbor, Ten - Mark was sure it was not his real name but he never got the chance to ask and now the latter had already moved out - who told Mark he could teach him because 'you're looking so pathetic, boy'.

Mark remembered snorting at Ten when the latter boasted about it to him, only to be awed the next second by the guy's jaw-dropping skill when it comes to skateboarding.

That's how he learned. The next week he tried, he pretty much mastered it already and that's when Mark realized it was easy.

And then there's her who was still struggling, Mark beside her, holding her hand to make sure she won't get hurt even if she fell.

"Don't be afraid to fall, the fear will only hold you back from skating." He whispered softly and she nodded, determined to get it right.

What happened was not as smooth as what they imagined. Irene still fell, though instead of getting new scars or cuts from the rough pavement, she found herself trying to stand up with the support of his that instinctively wrapped around her waist. Mark had tried to hide his blush but it failed, and she only laughed at him.

On her fifteenth try, she finally got it right. Mark had clapped along for her and she had shouted a 'Yes, I made it, es!' that echoed out throughout the empty street. Mark let out a hearty laugh.

Irene had run from the end of the street, leaving her skateboard just like that, and before he even saw it, had run to hug him. Mark blushed again.

He had never been good when it comes to interacting with girls - he had been chased by so many of them for his whole life that he deemed it some way too annoying and tried to avoid them as if he would die the moment he talked to them.

But it all comes too natural for him. Mark had wrapped his arm around her too, and it felt like his body moved by itself because his mind, on the other hand, was screaming at him.

She had pulled out from the hug and Mark had quickly dragged his hands to nowhere near her.

"Thanks," She had simply muttered and Mark could only nod. He felt tipsy, a little bit, and it was dumb of him to feel so because he was sure he didn't have anything that could make him feel like that today.

"Let's cool down. The heat will make us way too tan." She said, grabbing his hand and holding it all the way as they went to some other place.

That's right. Maybe it was all because of the sun. It's the peak of summer, anyway. The sun was being way too much and Mark was sure she's getting a brain-melting from it.
(Mark really tried to convince himself that the sun was the reason, when on the back of his mind, he knew very well what it actually was).

-

Much to Mark's surprise, Irene turned out to be a really good artist, even when she's only working with a spray paint. On the other hand, Mark just tried his best not to screw up anything she draw when he painted the walls light blue as the background.

There are lots of flowers, various types of it that she drew all by herself on the wall. Mark thought at some point, they would not get caught for vandalizing at all. This was pretty much decorating the boring, old, and badly-painted wall anyway.

It was another idea from the bucket list that Mark had yet to found out the person who came up with it.

"Won't we get like... I don't know, arrested for like, uh, ruining someone's property?" Mark had asked her, rather unsure when they sat down at some cafe for lunch.

By then, Mark's plan to actually stay in his room the whole day and tries out the new video games he just bought had vanished from his mind. He was never one to be up for such challenges like this - the last time he rebelled was like two years ago when he was seventeen and he sneaked into a nightclub with his neighbor, Ten - but Mark didn't really mind.

(He ended up getting grounded for like 3 weeks because he got caught back then).

"No one really passes by that street and I doubt they would like... I don't know, report us?" The doubt washed off his mind in an instant.

Maybe he needed to just go along with her. The worst thing to happen would be getting arrested, but as Irene had said, it was unlikely to happen. Besides, Mark couldn't help but admit that he was actually excited to do this.

This sudden change of heart (or mind, whatever) was something he also noticed but Mark tried not to think much about it.

And there he was. Instead of actually doing things, he was staring at her again. Taking the sight of her getting all so focused while drawing into admiration. If Mark said, he had only noticed her beauty, then he was definitely lying.

Since the first time he saw her, Mark was way too fascinated by her - maybe it was the sight of such a pretty lady in front of him at such a late hour that made him like that. The image of her didn't disappear from his mind until three days later.

When they met again the second time, Mark almost thought it was a hallucination - and he was thankful that it wasn't. Mark only keep on thinking about her after that time.

"I don't usually say what people say, but take a picture, it lasts longer."

Mark blinked once. Twice. Three times. Until he realized that she meant it for him and that's when Mark could feel his face getting red. She only laughed at him and god, Mark hoped she didn't think of him as a creep now.

The thing is, Mark was... not really the best person to come up with good words.

(The last time he tried to get it together with his crush, he remembered how he accidentally brought the topic of her 'ex' and of course, it ended way too badly).

And he tend to not think twice on what he’s going to say.

"You're really pretty." He blurted out, kind of absentmindedly.

She froze, putting down her hand that was holding the spray paint before she turned him.

"Yeah, and you're also really good looking."

Mark lost the count of how much he blushed that day.

-

A total of only three encounters really added up to Mark not knowing anything about the girl other than her name and what her car was (but that's beside the point). They were once again out in the sun, walking on the crossroad without any aim after she decided that she's finished with her 'graffiti'.

The graffiti turned out really pretty, in Mark's rather unbiased opinion. Unlike other graffitis on the wall beside it that mostly have the name of some gang he didn't know, there was a beautiful painting of a sunset and a sign of Y underneath the drawing.

But that was not the main thing.

If he thought he was an outdated person for still playing the Sims 2, then she was probably a human from another century back.

What Mark didn't understand, shortly, is the reason she carried a pager with her. A pager. Even Mark was not sure if his parents ever use those.

Her pager beeped once, and then twice, and it keeps on repeating until she finally took it out of her jacket's pocket and seemingly unimpressed when she read the message. Mark had not said anything, only staring blankly at the sight right in front of him.

She also didn't say anything, like explain to him why she didn't have a phone instead, or why she even use a pager when she doesn't look more than twenty years old.

And then here they are, she was calling someone on the public phone and Mark could hear clearly the waiting line, and by each second passes, she looked more anxious than ever. Was she in trouble?

"Jae." She started and then paused for a few seconds before, "No. I'm not making trouble."
She paused again.

"I'm learning skateboard, remember?"

Mark only watched silently as Irene hummed until the end of the call, the lack of interest showing on her face.

The call ended abruptly with her hanging up with, "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. Talk to you later, Jae!" as she quickly put back the phone.

"Not to sound offensive or something, but why are you still using pager in this.. uh, this-" "I got my phone confiscated for the whole summer. Long story, but my brother caused that."

Mark raised an eyebrow, "And he got you a pager?"

She rolled her eyes but nodded anyway. "I know. He's lame."

"Was he the one who called?"

Maybe Mark should have limited his curiosity, because he knew he has stepped way too far when her smile disappeared, instead she looked so confused. That's right, they were strangers so what was he thinking-

"Yeah, that's him." She answered, much to his opposite thought and then her signature smirk appeared yet again, "You seems to be curious about a lot of things, huh."

He wasn't sure what had gotten into him and gave him such a boost of confidence but Mark found himself saying, "Yeah, you're mysterious as and I'm attracted to you like that."

The blush that appeared slowly on her cheeks was a new sight for him, and Mark was proud of himself. It didn't last long though. Irene regained her composure, coughing to let the atmosphere changed - and Mark, because he was a kind guy, pretends nothing happened.

"Come on, let's go back." She suddenly said, grabbing his hand, and at some point slipping her fingers in between his.
(Smiles were engraved in both faces and Mark had never felt happier than at the moment).

-

"Say, if I asked you to go on a trip with me for 2 days, would you say yes?"

"What?" Mark asked back, snapped from the moment of being dazed and then being confused because- what?

"My bucket list. To go on a trip for 2 days. You. Me. Together?"
Mark pointed at himself, "You're seriously asking me?"

Mark didn't have a long-term thought on traveling. His family used to take him on a lot of their annual trips, even going as far as Europe once and going to Hawaii another time. He enjoyed traveling, enjoyed looking at new things instead of just going to the same place every day.

But that didn't necessarily mean he liked to go on one. Sometimes, he sat out of the family trip with the reason 'practicing with the basketball team' back when he was still in high school. Also, these days, the idea of being lazy in his room sounded like a pretty fun idea.

"I don't have any other choice b