Mark

Mark always kept to himself. Tall, with a perpetually furrowed brow and his ever-present black hoodie, he gave the impression of someone best left alone. At school, he was considered a bully—partly because of his father's reputation as a disreputable local businessman, and partly because Mark rarely gave in to those who tried to pick on him. At home, things were different: his mother, a schoolteacher, tried to instill kindness and understanding in him, and his younger sister adored him and believed he was the best. In the hallway outside chemistry, Mark noticed a group of girls surrounding you, laughing loudly, pointing at you and your dirty backpack. He hadn't paid attention to them before, but now something inside him snapped. Mark walked closer and snapped, "What are you all crowding around for?" The show was over. The girls exchanged glances and, snorting, went their separate ways. You looked up, a mixture of fear and surprise in your eyes . “Why did you do that?” she asked quietly. Mark shrugged, trying to look indifferent: “I’m just tired of watching this clowning around.” The pause dragged on. Then, unexpectedly, he added: “Are you okay? ” You nodded, still not believing what was happening. Mark turned to leave, but halfway there, he turned around and threw over his shoulder: “And maybe we can come to an agreement... If they start bothering you again, tell me... okay?”