Chapter Twelve: Star is Due for Shooting
Chapter Twelve: Star is Due for Shooting
"Mark Cohen?" Mrs. Greenblatt called. Mark raised his hand just above his head, and she nodded and continued with the roll. Five classes into this summer torture, and only one thing kept Mark coming back: the blonde kid.
He wasn't on the roll. He'd never given his name. He sang quietly enough that Mrs. Greenblatt couldn't hear him, but not for the reason Mark sang quietly: the blonde kid could sing great. Mark figured he was trying not to draw attention to himself, since he was obviously not on the roll. But Mark couldn't imagine that anyone's attention wasn't just naturally drawn to him; he had this confidence, self-assurance that Mark found almost hypnotic. More often than not, he didn't even attempt to pay attention to the class - he would sit in the back and film the blonde kid.
"Young man? Yes, you... the one in the black shirt... are you part of this class?" Mark snapped back to the present when he realized what was going on: Mrs. Greenblatt had finally noticed their extra student.
"Yes ma'am." the kid said calmly. "Signed up just before school got out." Mrs. Greenblatt frowned and glanced down at her roll.
"Well... I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you, and you're certainly not on my roll..."
"M-mrs. Greenblatt?" someone called from the back of the room. Mark wondered who was speaking until he realized that everyone had turned around to look at him. Oh shit oh shit oh shit... "Um.." Mark gulped, trying to say something. "He's d-definately part of the class, ma'am." he stammered. "He signed up the s-same day I did." Mrs. Greenblatt blinked.
"Oh..." she sounded a bit uncertain. Mark glanced over at the blonde kid, who was giving him a thumbs up. "Are you sure?"
"Y-yes ma'am. They m-must've forgotten to put him on the roll." he tried to smile understandingly, not that he was the smiliest person around. "You know how it is... the teen volunteers d-don't pay enough attention and f-forget to put someone on the list..." Mrs. Greenblatt smiled widely.
"Oh, of course you must be right, Mark." she beamed. "Thank you for helping me clear this up." she turned her 100 watt smile on the blonde kid. "What is your name, young man? I'll get you added to the roll after class." The kid winked conspiritorially at Mark and smiled cockily at Mrs. Greenblatt.
"Roger. Roger Davis."
# # #
"So what was it like, Cohen?" one of the guys asked after class. Mark, his head down as usual, didn't answer and tried to push past him to get outside. Heather had a doctor's appointment that day and couldn't pick him up, so he had to walk, and he didn't fancy trying to do that with that group of guys bugging him.
"What was what like, Josh?" one of his buddies asked sarcastically. Josh grinned cruelly.
"Murder." Josh's buddies feigned shock as they followed Mark out the door. Mark clenched his jaw and willed himself not to get upset. "Oh, yeah, didn't you hear? Freshman year, our little Marky got into a fight with his girlfriend and killed her. Stabbed her with a butcher knife, and when she didn't die fast enough, he tossed her out the attic window." he finished with a sadistic grin.
"Is that a fact?" someone asked from a car in the parking lot. Mark glanced up just enough to see Roger's head poking out the window of an old, beat up car that barely looked like it could hold together. Kindof like Mark felt right then.
"Oh, yeah." Josh continued, grabbing Mark's arm. Mark tried to pull away, but Josh was on the baseball team at school - he had a strong grip. Roger turned his car off and looked interested. And I hear," Josh continued, thrilled by his new audience, "That he filmed the whole thing with that camera of his." Josh grabbed the camera suddenly out of Mark's hands, and Mark's head shot up.
"Hey, give that back, Josh!" he said, trying to sound tough and... well, failing miserably.
"Let's see what he's been doing lately... there's a projector back in the Center..." Josh said gleefully, handing the camera off to one of his buddies and keeping his hold on Mark.
"I've got a better idea." Everyone froze and saw that Roger had gotten out of his car. He wasn't the biggest guy, but he was standing up straight as opposed to his usual slouch and looking distinctly like the kind of guy who would get a kick out of beating the crap out of somebody. There was, Mark noticed, a half-amused grin on his face, but his eyes were all business. "Why don't you give the kid his camera back and fuck off?"
"Yeah?" Josh drew himself up, and was still a good two inches shorter than Roger. Roger smirked.
"Yeah." Roger replied, mocking Josh's tone of voice. Josh looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it and glowered instead.
"Chris, give him the camera." he muttered. Chris tossed the camera to Mark, who caught it gingerly and examined it quickly for damage. "C'mon, guys." Josh jerked his head and the lot of them moved on. Roger stared them out of the parking lot, then returned to his usual slouch and grinned at Mark.
"Well, we showed 'em, huh?" he asked, punching Mark lightly in the arm. Mark blushed a little and continued his examination of the camera.
"Um... yeah." he sighed in relief. "Oh, good, they didn't break it."
"So..." Roger continued grinning. "You're Mark Cohen, right?" Mark nodded. "Cool. I'm--"
"Roger Davis." Mark interrupted, and blushed. "Yeah, um... thanks. For, y'know..." he gestured in the direction the guys had left in. Roger shrugged.
"No prob. Consider it sort of repayment for getting me officially in the class." he rocked back on his heels, and Mark shifted uncomfortably. "So any of it true?"
"Huh?" Mark glanced up from his sneakers.
"What they were saying, about you and your girlfriend." Roger cocked his head. "I don't care either way, but I'm curious." Mark shook his head.
"None of it." he said softly. "Except the fact that she's..." he trailed off, and Roger nodded.
"Okay, that's all I need." he paused and looked around. "You got a ride?"
"Um... well, n-no..." Mark shook his head.
"You live nearby?"
"No..."
"Well, where do you live, I'll give you a ride!" Roger almost bounced. Mark blinked.
"Wha... I... n-no, that's oka--"
"No, seriously, hop in." Roger gave him a little shove in the direction of his car. "I promise I don't bite, and Vera won't break. She's tougher than she looks."
"Vera?"
"Yeah, the car."
"You... named your car?" Mark looked incredulously at him. Roger nodded. Mark couldn't help grinning at the taller boy. "Fine. I live on Oak Street."
"Cool." Roger started the car, and Mark noticed a guitar in the backseat. Mark started to ask about it when rock music nearly deafened him. "God, sorry!" Roger shouted and turned the music down to a dull roar. "Hope you don't mind ACDC." he grinned.
Mark didn't get a chance to reply before Vera fishtailed out of the parking lot.