Jackson taps his foot in an erratic rhythm, growing increasingly impatient with each passing minute. School is already long over, and he can't wait to head home and simply crash but the elder's no-show is putting a dent to his well-formulated plans. After what feels like eons Mark finally appears in his sight, sweaty, hair messy and uniform wrinkled. Jackson's eyes widen at the elder's dishevelled appearance before a conspiratorial smirk spreads across his face.

"I knew it!" Jackson bellows in his usual rambunctious voice, "You got the D!"

"Shut it," Mark hisses, eyes darting around frantically to check if other students in the vicinity had heard. He has an image to upkeep and can't have rumours spreading. He is, afterall, the goody-two-shoes valeditorian of the school. "JB will kill me if he finds out I landed myself in detention and had to clean the entire auditorium by myself."