[5]

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Once the misery of a fifteen minute jog was over–for Mark at least, Jack slumped along–Ms. Guarder let everyone play and mess around the next thirty five minutes.

Jack sat to the side, observing...more like admiring...Mark playing a game of basketball with Felix, Matthias, Danny, and Arin.

After a good while of Danny and Arin rubbing in Felix and Matthias's face they won, and the losing team complaining they only lost because "Team Grump" had Mark, the half-Korean laid down on the ground beside Jack, the opposite way of him, in a starfish pose. He was panting and sweating buckets.

"How come you didn't join in? The teams weren't even." Mark breathed between pants, cocking his head to look up at Jack. He shrugged, "I may be hyper and active, but I don't do sports."

Mark nodded. "Oh..."

He then glanced at the sketchbook in Jack's lap. He sat up with an interested "ooo~" and stole it from him.

Jack squeaked out a pitiful "hey, give that back, prick!"

Mark ignored him and flipped through the pages. He paused on an unfinished sketch of a boy, "who's this?"

Jack turned red in the face and sighed. "It's an old friend of mine. Robin. He asked me to draw him a while back." 

Mark studied the details of the sketch. "Why didn't you finish it?"

"Haven't had time. Besides, can't give it to him; he moved."

Mark made a motion with his head to acknowledge he heard.

"Well, now you can draw me. 'Cause I'm your friend," Mark teased with a laugh.

Jack blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Heh. Yeah. I'll think about it."

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