Mark was out on his morning run again. When was the last time he did this? Wednesday? He hadn't been in the mood since he heard that girl from the hole crying. Now he was finally able to mostly put that behind him and enjoy the refreshing feeling of the cold, dry air brushing past his face, and his body moving, alerting his senses.

He left the house early that day and ran multiple laps around the neighborhood. His mind was finally quiet, allowing his run to take on a meditative quality. On his 4th lap he noticed the school buses unloading students in the school parking lot, and realized that it was time to go in.

As he made his way through the parking lot a hand landed on his his shoulder.

"Hey man, what's up?". Mark looked to the left and saw that it was Steve. Zeke was right behind him.

"Hi", he answered.

"So, did you do anything interesting on Sunday?", Steve tried to make conversation, which wasn't easy with a block of wood like Mark. Mark smiled.

"Yeah, I practiced lots of soccer".

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes at Zeke. "We really need to get him out more. Listen, yesterday Zeke and I went to this concert, and we met this college chick, and she took us to her apartment, and her roommates were hot, and they had weed. You should've come with us. It was awesome".

Mark looked at him askance.

"Uh, not that I don't believe you, but I'm not really interested. Anyway, you didn't even tell me you're going".

"Next time, dude. I didn't think you'd want to, now that you've got a girl".

Mark sighed in annoyance.

"I told you already that I don't have a girlfriend".

Steve and Zeke exchanged a meaningful glace.

"Right", Steve said exaggeratedly. Then he spotted Mia ahead of them.

"Hey, Mia, wait up!", Steve shouted and hurried over to her. She turned around and smiled at him.

"What's up with them?", Mark asked Zeke. Zeke shrugged.

"Don't know. Maybe they hooked up?"

It would have to be a very new development. Mark couldn't remember noticing anything going on with either of them as late as last Friday, and he didn't notice any sign of something different about Steve on Saturday either. Then again, Steve was always the same, single or not.

Steve and Mia stopped to chat in the middle of the bustling hallway. Mark surreptitiously eyed them while he and Zeke passed them by. It certainly looked like some heavy-duty flirting was going on.

"Did the two of you really go to a concert yesterday?", He asked Zeke once they left the two lovebirds behind.

"Yep".

"And you really got invited by a college girl to her room?"

Zeke smirked.

"Nah, he's just messing with you".

"That's what I thought", Mark muttered as they reached the classroom door and entered. He saw Jake standing in the back of the room with some of the other guys while they were talking.

"Hey", he called out to Jake. Jake left the other guys to come over to Mark while Zeke went to the back.

"Hey", he answered. "So how did it go with the homework?"

"Fine. I finished it".

Just then Cassandra came in to the room.

"Hey, Cassandra", Mark called out as she passed by on her way to Jessica and Stephanie, who were chatting with Amanda by the windows. The quiet loner seemed slightly animated, for a change.

She stopped and turned toward him.

"What is it?"

"How is Beth?", he said more quietly.

Cassandra's expression softened. "She's home. It will take time".

Mark nodded. He sat down in his chair while the rest of the class trickled in.

Mia and Steve spent every break glued to each other. When lunchtime finally came around she and her group broke away from the rest of the girls to sit with him on the other end of the table from Cassandra and the rest. It didn't make much of a difference for Mark, but some of the other guys seemed happy with the change. It meant they had more opportunities to talk to the girls.

Mark listened to the chatter of Cassandra and her group. They were gossiping disparagingly about the new relationship, and from what he could decipher it seemed that they thought Mia was making a political move, trying to bypass Cassandra to become the top girl by "marrying" and joining forces with the top guy, with herself and her two lackeys serving as a kind of tribute to buy the guys' support for her coup.

Mark's curiosity was somewhat piqued. He examined Mia closely, openly staring at her. The Latina girl was petite, with short brown hair and a moderately sized chest. She was pretty, but not the prettiest in the class. Her slight disadvantage in looks, however, was more than made up for with the slightly sensual and enticing way in which she carried herself, and she flirted naturally and charmingly. He could definitely see what Steve found attractive about her. As for himself, he preferred someone more quiet and reserved, like Beth, Stephanie, or even Amanda, although perhaps Amanda was a little too quiet and reserved for his taste.

The rest of the day passed by rather slowly, as Mark was eager for it to end so that he could finally go to soccer practice, but first he had to endure the rest of his classes. Once he was free he immediately hurried to the gym, almost running through the hallways, and was the first to arrive at the locker room. He quickly got changed and hurried out.

"It looks like I have you back. Good, because I'm going to need you this time". The coach said when Mark arrived at the court. He passed Mark a ball and went to stand at the goal post. "Let's see how many shots you can get in while we wait for the rest of the team".

Mark moved the ball to the penalty spot and took a shot, striking the ball with the corner of his foot. The ball flew in a nice curve to the upper-left corner of the goal. The coach leaped and caught it.

"Nice shot", he called out and threw the ball back.

Mark kicked the ball again and again, aiming at different spots, with different curves, and different levels of force. He was hardly aware of the gathering crowd. His shots were accurate, but the vast majority got blocked by the coach. Still, he managed to get a few in.

"That's enough for now". The coach held the ball he had just caught. Mark looked around and saw that the last of his teammates was just arriving. Formal practice started with warm-ups, then some running, then some basic ball handling practice and maneuvers, both solo and in groups.

"For our next match we won't be able to slack off like we did last Thursday", the coach said after gathering them around. "Their team has good players and a deep bench, and they take good advantage of it. They primarily use a diamond formation but sometimes switch it up, depending on the situation. We'll need to practice how we respond to the formations they use through adaptations to our square formation".

The rest of practice was then dedicated to practicing simple ways to adapt to the opponent, with the second string being used to simulate the opponent and the first string practicing the counters, then switching. Once they had comprehended what they were supposed to do the coach started mixing players from the two groups to get them used to working with the different combinations of teammates that might occur during the match. Coach kept them going until well after the usual time, which was his way of compensating for only having one practice session per week.

By the time the coach finally let them go even Mark was feeling just a little tired. Nevertheless, once he refreshed himself in the shower he went out and practiced in the patio alone, like always.

It was only when he started kicking the ball against the red brick wall that he noticed the little dark opening. He caught the ball with his foot when it bounced back, then looked again. He could clearly that it was there. His heart began pounding, and he had difficulty swallowing his saliva. He thought the hole would be gone forever, and with it the mysterious girl who serviced it. Now it was back.

He looked around, afraid that someone else might be there, but everyone other than the teachers and administrative staff had already gone home, and the staff room and offices were on the other side of the school building. He nervously approached the hole with stiff movements.

Mark kneeled at the side of the hole as if he were going to tie his shoelace. He thought he saw some movement. It was probably the other person ducking out of sight, although it would have been difficult to see who it was anyway.

"Um, I don't know why you were crying last time, but you know you don't have to do this if you don't want to", Mark said hesitantly, trying to relieve his conscience. "Like, if someone is making you do it then you can tell me and I'll help you".

He waited for a bit, but there was no response.

"If you don't answer then I'll take it that you want to continue like before".

Mark waited nervously for several moments, but again he saw and heard nothing from the other side. He looked around surreptitiously while he stood up but still didn't see anyone else around, so he leaned against the wall like before. His heart pounded as he discreetly slid himself out of his pants and into the hole.

He was embarrassingly limp, but that didn't stop whoever it was from taking him with her hand and her mouth and slowly working him over, massaging strength and firmness into him. Mark took deep breaths and tried to keep himself calm, but it wasn't easy. The situation excited him, and the pulsing sensations that came from where contact was made excited him even more. He relished the warmth and moisture which enveloped his tip, and the pressure and twisting motions as the hand moved up and down his base.

He wished it could last forever, but before long he couldn't contain himself anymore, and with great twitching his body repeatedly injected its warm and salty essence into the mouth of his benefactor. He shuddered as she sucked and licked him clean, his oversensitive nerves sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through his body. Once she let him go he quickly tucked himself away before his knees collapsed to the ground.

In the quiet that the surrounded the area he thought that he could faintly hear the other person's breathing, but it was difficult to discern above the noise of his own labored breath. However, while his breathing calmed down the sound grew in volume, and gradually turned into soft feminine moans. He noticed the noise of the rustling of clothing, along with a splashing sound, both of which increased in frequency as the moans became muffled grunts. He listened intently, his ear glued to the hole, until the sounds hit a crescendo and then stopped.

There was silence, with the exception the girl's panting, as he waited, leaning against the wall, his mind racing. Whoever it was, by the sounds she produced it was most definitely a girl, and she was definitely doing it willingly, with pleasure, even. He couldn't know if it was because it was him specifically or whether she just liked the idea of performing that kind of act, but from her crying and running away earlier, as well as the fact that the hole seemed to appear only to him, he surmised that it was the former case. The idea flattered and aroused him, though not enough for him to be ready for another round so soon.

It was was about a minute before he heard the girl moving again. She slid the brick into the wall and then quickly left.

Mark waited a while longer, savoring the memory of what just happened and the lingering sensations on his body. Eventually the impression the experience had left on him began to fade, and with a resigned sigh he slowly got up, collected his belongings, and headed home. He was hardly aware of the smile that decorated his face.

As he walked he began to wonder if he should get the girl a gift. He was sure now that she did it entirely of her own volition, and she certainly seemed to get plenty of enjoyment out of it, but he felt that he should express some gratitude. His feet slowed as he felt increasingly compelled to head toward the main streets instead, until he gave in to the thought and turned back.

He walked quickly, almost at a jog. Although he had plenty of time until supper he didn't want to arrive home late and risk having his family notice again that something was going on with him. The questions and teasing last week were bad enough, and he didn't want to repeat that experience.

Mark visited one shop after another, looking for something that would properly convey his gratitude. It would have to be small enough to easily fit in the space that was left by the missing brick. He didn't find anything that seemed suitable in the small shops and decided to try the supermarket instead. He was initially reluctant to do so as it somehow seemed too cheap, but it seemed like there was no other choice left this time.

He wondered through the aisles looking for ideas until he reached the chocolate section. There was a wide variety of options, and he carefully weighed all of them. He didn't want something simple and common and cheap. That would be like spitting in her face. A small heart-shaped box caught his attention, but after considering it he felt that it conveyed the wrong message. He didn't even know the girl. Should he really give her something that said "love"? Eventually he settled on a thin transparent rectangular box filled with truffles, each individually wrapped in gold-colored paper. It looked fancy enough to convey a message of gratitude, but wasn't necessarily romantic. It was also one of the more expensive options for its size.

The supermarket didn't provide gift-wrapping, so he headed to a nearby store that specialized in party goods and disposable items to buy a little paper bag for wrapping gifts, but the store didn't sell them individually so he had to buy a whole package of them. Once he paid he hid the items deep inside his bag. The last thing he needed was to be exposed through an accident. Then he headed home once more.

"Hi brother, you're late", Rebecca greeted him as soon as he opened the door of the house. Then she carefully examined his face.

"So you kissed and made up, huh?", she asked, dismayed. "Her standards can't be too high, then".

"I don't have a girlfriend", Mark sighed in exasperation.

"You can't hide it from me. I can read you like a book", she smirked.

"What about your boyfriend?", he took a shot in the dark. Since he couldn't win on defense, Mark decided to try an attack.

"What boyfriend?". Mark could see some uncertainty on her face and decided to press forward.

"Didn't a boy ask you out recently?", he said casually, as if he knew, but it was nothing more than a blind guess.

"That...I didn't say yes!", Rebecca sputtered, unwittingly confirming that it was true.

"But you didn't say no either, right?", it was Mark's turn to smirk.

"That doesn't mean he's my boyfriend!", she exclaimed.

"Let's ask mom and dad about that", Mark suggested thoughtfully, as if he was just trying to help. "Maybe they could help figure it out".

Rebecca's eyes widened in horror.

"Or we could just stay quiet about all of this and not mention it anymore, right?", he switched to a subtly threatening tone. Rebecca nodded vigorously.

"Good. Now I have stuff to do. See you later". He headed upstairs, leaving her standing and wondering how he found out her secret. He felt satisfaction at finally managing to get the better of her. Of course, if she was a little bit more sophisticated and mature she could have simply categorically denied it and he would have nothing, since he'd have no way of differentiating between him guessing wrong and her lying. There was no need to let her know that, though.

Once Mark was safely back in his room he locked the door and closed the blinds. Even though what he was doing wasn't anything bad he still felt very embarrassed and self-conscious about it. He took out his gift and the package of little gift bags. He opened the package and pulled one out, then put the box inside, sealed the bag with sticky tape, and put it inside an opaque plastic bag to protect it from both damage and prying eyes. Once that was done he put it back in the bottom of his bag so that he won't forget to take it to school tomorrow, and hid the package of little gift bags deep inside his desk.

He was too nervous to immediately get started on his school work, so instead he first organized his things for tomorrow and then took a long relaxing shower. When that wasn't enough he tried looking at videos game highlights. Seeing the best moves of the best professional players was something he found inspiring. Before he knew it it was already time for supper.

It was an strangely quiet dinner. Usually Rebecca would chatter away endlessly, sharing every thought that passed through her head and every experience she had throughout the day. However, that night she ate quietly while staring down at her plate, and only give cursory answers to her parents' questions.

Mark smiled as he ate. He preferred quiet meals, but only rarely did he get to enjoy one. His parents seemed worried, though, thinking that something was wrong with Rebecca, but she knew that if she opened her mouth she would only condemn herself to endless torturous interrogations.

Once dinner was over Mark skipped along happily to his room to do his homework. When he slept he dreamed about being the star of his team and scoring many goals, with a faceless yet attractive girl cheering for him enthusiastically from the bleachers.