The Lady Of Shalott

Amorelle sighed. "right, the festival." she mentally scowled and turned away. "You aren't going right?" She bit her lip, not liking the thought.

Mark sighed and gave a small nod. "I have to. My dad insists, remember?" Mark's parents were divorced and at the moment he lived with the man who had practically raised him. But he still had to go visit his father in South Carolina as was decreed by the custody papers.

Amorelle slumped "How long will you be gone again?" She nearly pouted, really not looking forward to him leaving. She hated being left in this god awful town without him. It was so... lonely.

"About a week, but it's gonna be alright. You got Lance to keep you safe, ain't that right buddy?" Mark called to the seat where Lance was slumped.
"Huh? Oh...ya...sure..." Lance never talked all that much around Amorelle. For one, she always made his poor heart give out. Two, she was Mark's girl. He wasn't suppose to talk to Mark's girls. It was just the way it went.
Mark chuckled and smiled back at Amorelle. "See?"

Amorelle sighed and turned her back to him, disgruntled. "How very reassuring." She stared out the window, her head ache coming back with a vengeance. She wanted to rest her forehead against the cool surface but had learned her lesson earlier.

"It's not going to be that bad," he murmered. "He's just quiet is all. Give him a chance. He's a good guy, my best man." Mark sighed and slipped his arms around her waist, and brushed her hair from her neck and nibbled on her neck gently.

Lance kept his eyes foreward, refusing to look at his friend and Amorelle. He could feel his stomach churning at the thought of what they might be doing. His heart fell slightly and he glanced around seeing a girl watching him. It was Marcy Tindle. Her parents owned a shop called the Shalott. Why they named it that...he had no idea. It was just a little dry goods place.

Amorelle huffed, tensing for a second before relaxing under his touch. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "He's not you though." She turned to face him, eyes still closed, resting her head against his. "I want you."

Mark chuckled and kissed her lips softly. "When I get back, you can have me all you want," he murmered against her lips.

Lance debated calling out to Mr. Willis and asking a stupid question out of spite, but decided not to. Mark would kill him if he did. He glanced back at Marcy who was now blushing at being caught watching him. She was creepy...

Artemis sighed and pulled away. "at least we have this weekend..." She laid her head back, trying to will her headache away. "What's the festival for again?" she murmured.

"It's one of those weird Arthurian ones," Mark said as he laid his head against hers, holding her close, his fingers trailing her skin just beneath the edge of her shirt. "I don't know why, but we always have to go and I always get stuck with volunteering to be Arthur. You know how my dad is, having his Masters in Midevil junk."

Amorelle giggled at that. "My king," she teased, her hands going to his face. "Now that is a sight I'd like to see." She let his body support hers, melting under his touch. "How much longer till we get there?"

"Not much longer," Mark said with a small smile as he held her, his hands continuing to trail the small strip of skin above her jeans and below the edge of her shirt.

Jesse's Girl came on and Lance rolled his eyes. How ironic, he thought and put his head in his hands. He felt something wet and blinked, looking back up. His nose was bleeding. Beautiful. He sighed and looked around, standing up and walking past Mark and Amorelle to go to the front of the bus to grab tissue.

Amorelle shivered, brushing her lips against his. "You're a tease. You know that, right?" She turned, watching Lance walk by for a moment before losing interest. She looked back at mark, smiling softly at him.

Mark opened his mouth to repsond, but was instead greated by the back of the seat infront of them as Mr. Conry slammed the bus to an abrupt halt, throwing everyone foreward. Mark groaned, muttering something about football helmets and how Mr. Conry should be forced into retirement.

Lance, on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. He was thrown four seats foreward, only to face plant into the aisle, making his bloody nose even worse. Instead of the small trickle it had been, blood was now rushing from his nose like Niagra falls or something.

The cause of all the commotion stood infront of the bus with large brown eyes. A doe and her two fawns. Typical Mr. Conry.

Amorelle jolted froward with the rest, jamming her head into the seat, her head ache now quickly reaching migraine status. Splendid.
She blinked and rubbed her face, spotting lance. Oh my. She fumbled for a tissue, nudging it to mark to give to his bud.

"What?" Mark glanced at the tissue in Amorelle's hand, then around and spotted Lance. "Oh," he took the tissue, wadded it up, and tossed it at Lance. "There you go man," he said as it bounced off of Lance's head. "He's fine," he assured Amorelle without giving Lance a second glance. "Are you alright?"

Lance stood, taking the tissue from the floor and jamming it into the garbage can before grabbing fresh ones and sitting in the front seat, trying to stop the bleeding.

Amorelle blinked again, wincing at the screams eminating from her near by peers. "Ya, just have a headache is all, could use some fresh air. We're here." she noted, trying to take the subject off herself. "Thank god." She scowled at Mr.Corny.

Mr. Corny was helping Lance who was grinning widely at him. The old man was like a second father almost. They joked some as they sopped the blood from Lance's face, all the kids and teachers exiting around them both.

"Oh, right," Mark stood and took Amorelle by the hand and led her foreward, doing his best not to touch Mr. Conry, almost as if he thought the old man carried diseases or something.

"Great pass Friday night, Lance," the old man said in a shakey voice.
"Thank you, sir. It wasn't all me though," Lance said a slight shade of pink coloring his face from all the praise.

Amorelle allowed him to lead her, rushing out the door, grateful for the air. She stepped out, tilting her head back, taking in deep breaths, too lost in the moment to notice if mark followed or not. She felt nautous. Ugh. She hated bus rides.

Mark kept hold of Amorelle's hand until she was beside him, then he slipped his hand into her back pocket. He had to almost always be touching her in some way or another, no matter what the event was.

Lance finally got himself cleaned up and walked off the bus, acting as though nothing just happened. He had a lopsided grin on his lips and Marcy came rushing up to him. "You alright, Lance? I didn't want to mess anything up or I would have stopped earlier," the girl kept rambling on and on. Lance felt sorta bad for her, knowing that she liked him. He sighed glanced around looking slightly helpless. "Ya, I'm fine Marcy, don't worry about me."

Amorelle leaned into mark, looking around curiously, sea air filling her senses. Her eyes turned to lanced and Marcy and she smiled to herself, nudging mark. "poor guy, think we should help and intervene?"

Mark shrugged and glanced at Lance and Marcy. "He can handle himself," he said, then went back to looking around. That was usually the response he gave any time Lance was in need of "assistance." "He has to be able to take care of himself, I'm not always gonna be there to save him," would almost always follow.

Lance sighed and gave Marcy a small smile, looking pretty much miserable behind his mask of happiness. "How about I escort you?" He finally said to get her to quit rambling. Marcy looked as though she might faint, but gave a quick nod of the head. Lance held out his arm to her, and walked her towards the campsite, his back straight and his stride almost noble.

By dinner that night, Lance looked absolutely miserable with Marcy attached to his arm and Mark was boasting about his latest "triumph" on the football field against a local school.