Jack quickly sped through the school hallways, clutching books to his chest. He had already said goodbye to his friends as he almost ran to his next class.
He was going to be late for a freaking exam and his teachers were gonna kill him.
He checked his watch. He realised that he had about five minutes, and that was a good thing. His class was only just down the hall. Thank god.
But the second he looked up from his watch, he full-on slammed into another person.
Shit shit shit shit shit! Jack’s mind raced with curses as books tumbled all over the floor. He looked up at the person he crashed into and started babbling an apology when he realised who he was looking at.
Mark Fischbach. The Mark Fischbach, the boy in his year that was so damned popular that he had no problem making friends. With his unquestionable good looks and good grades, every kid was either associated with him, best buds with him, or just wanted to be him.
Except Jack, who had never said two words to the guy since he transferred.
What the f-
“Oh, god, are you okay?” Mark said, eyes full of concern.
Jack wanted to run into a brick wall. He didn’t know why, but whenever Mark was around, he became a blubbering idiot. Or a silent one, which completely contradicted his normal crazy Irishness.
Jack blinked at the use of his real name. “Yeah,” he managed to get out. “I’m good. What about you?”
Mark’s face broke out into a relieved grin and he chuckled. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied. Jack only now realised how hot Mark’s voice was. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I’m just going into an exam.”
Jack grinned as they both bent down to retrieve their books. “Me and you both,” he said. “I was lookin’ down at my watch, so I wasn’t lookin’ where the heck I was goin’ either.”
Mark grinned. “Good, so I don’t have to completely blame myself, then.”
“Nah.” Jack took this moment to study Mark. His skin was naturally tanned and he had a slightly Asian look about him – Korean, he guessed. His hair was black and shaggy, and his chocolate-brown eyes hid behind a pair of thin glasses. When they stood up, Jack was about a head taller than Mark, who balanced it out by being solid and muscly, unlike Jack.
Good god, Mark was hot.
Jack pulled himself out of his fantasy when he realised Mark was talking.
“I’m Mark, by the way,” he was saying. “Mark Fischbach. I don’t think we’ve met?” He held out a hand.
“Don’t think so,” Jack replied, shaking Mark’s hand. “Sean McLoughlin, but I prefer Jack. I transferred from Ireland at the start of the year.”
“Long way from home.”
Then someone else shouted out Mark’s name, and they both looked around. “You coming?” someone was yelling.
“Yeah!” Mark yelled back, before looking back at Jack. “Gotta go, sorry,” he said.
“No worries, I should be going too,” Jack said, moving out of his way. “I’ll see you around?” he asked, hopeful.
“Sure!” Mark replied, beginning to walk away. “See ya, Jack!”
“See ya, Mark.”
Jack took a few steps before chancing a glance back at Mark, who was walking in the middle of his two friends. One of them leaned down and whispered something in his ear, and Mark shoved him away. The two friends laughed.
Jack couldn’t help but grin, before walking away to his class. As he walked, he thought about the possibility of being friends with Mark, the guy that made his mind wander to wonderful places and made him feel that the teasing that he got for being Irish was all worth it. Suddenly, the realisation hit him like a punch in the chest.
He was crushing on Mark Fischbach. He was definitely, undoubtedly crushing on Mark Fischbach.
And he was perfectly okay with that.