Sanders is bored.

School is dull- over now, though, and then summer is even duller. Caden keeps things interesting, but even that adorable naive little sugarpuff can't maintain all his attention. 

Running, at least, isn't excruciatingly boring, and it's a good excuse to show off for the crowd, flex his inner performer a little, give everybody else a good idea of where they stand (the answer: so far beneath him he needs a telescope just to catch a glimpse of the little worms). 

He is so fucking ready to run.

Caden watches the runners line up, smiling at the proceedings. Sports are very, very distinctly not his thing (and couldn't get much more so without involving, say, venomous spiders), but Sandy's clearly enjoying himself a bunch, and it wasn't really that much trouble to come support him.

Besides, he did great on his exams! He's dating a wonderful guy in a semi-liberal area! The world is sunshine and rainbows and- okay, maybe more gloom and gloom and imminent dampness than sunshine, but he refuses to become any less cheerful.

Marcus sighs, looking up at the sky. Great. Clouds. The sky must share his opinion that this whole thing would be improved if it was pissed on.

He was going to go work a shift at the local Walmart- he donated the money he earned to the Against Malaria Foundation, it was just the thing to do- but no. Friends first. Why did he even have friends, they seemed kind of unnecessary, maybe he could just not. 

He shifts his gaze to the runners, discretely pocketing his phone- otherwise Caden would pout at him, and that was just a fate worse than boredom (or death, or arson, or a fine for jaywalking).

"Which one is yours?"

The guy behind Marcus must be talking to him, given just how much he has to lean forward to be heard.

"That's mine, Cora," he says of the girl currently shifting from a steady pace to a sprint.

"I'm not sure why you're getting so possessive," comments his friend, who waves vaguely at Marcus but continues to watch.

Marcus leans back. Nice and reciprocal that way.

"Sanders- tall blonde guy with an ego the size of Mount Rushmore if it had Frued carved in it, if you don't know him," he says, of someone who also happens to be steadily accelerating, who'd have guessed.

"Oh, he's good...single?"

The storm also appears to be accelerating, from the sound of thunder.

"Nope."

Overhearing this exchange, Caden, too, leans backwards in Jackson's direction. It's the latest trend.

"We're together as of a few months ago," he says, brightly.

"Too bad."

"Jackson, don't be an asshole. I know it comes naturally."

"I meant, good for you."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that first part, but do note that if you and him want to work something out I'm hardly going to object."

Was that a wink? He's only sort of looking in Jackson's direction (still has to keep an eye on the track), and it's pretty gloomy and getting darker fast, but that sure did look like a wink.

If Jackson had considered responding to any winks that may or may not exist, he isn't now. Hailstones the size of cats fall from the sky onto the track and the stands.

Jackson ducks, but there's nothing in particular to hide under, so he mostly just clings to Danny.

Most of the runners have joined in the panicking. Cora is scanning the stands for her friends.

Sanders was not expecting sudden giant hailstones, what the fuck- okay, no panicking, time to find Caden and get under shelter, Caden needs to not die by collision with ridiculous hailstone- who the hell needs to scan the crowd there's only one person that shriek could have come from- let's just sprint right over there why hello random person who is in his way you get to be on the ground now-

Caden, once he manages to stop screeching at a hailstone having landed two feet from him oh dear gods, sees Sanders coming in his direction, and tries to run toward him. And trips, having forgotten the existence of a seat below him. He lands on the ground, left arm first- this is not the time to get aroused by a severely bruised limb, ow- 

Marcus, having sat shock still from when he first saw cat-sized hail (his brain very helpfully labeling it 'kale, and twice as dangerous'), gets up from his seat at seeing Caden fall, scurrying very carefully down to help him-

"We need to find shelter. Inside, now."

He reaches down to help carry Caden.

Jackson runs to Cora's side.

Sanders reaches them shortly, and- he could totally carry him by himself but they need to get out of whatever this is fast and there isn't time for bravado- 

"No shit, Sherlock," he snaps rapidly, taking hold of Caden's legs- "Get his arms or something- it's okay honey- we're gonna lift on one two-"

Supplanted by people better at carrying things, Marcus is just going to stand here and- he should do something- he covers his head with his arms and starts walking briskly towards the great indoors-

Caden (who has turned ghost pale but doesn't, to internal assessment, have anything more severe than substantial bruising) responds to all this with wincing and not much more- he's a bit mentally-whiplashed for words.