Author's Note: Hi there! This is my first story that I've ever posted here, so my apologies if there are any major mistakes. This is going to be a HiJack fic, as well as a Modern AU. A huge thank you to BBaM for helping me so much! And of course, I don't own either of these wonderful movies.
Chapter One: An Early Morning
Expression anxious, Jack glanced at his phone. It read seven a.m.
His eyes looked defeated.
The street lights outside were lit as the sun still hid, nearing ever slowly from the east. Illuminated underneath the lamp's circle of light, there were snowed over pathways and iced over curbs that held the promise of unsteady footing. Bare trees shivered alongside the street's edge as a northern wind passed through, bringing with it a flurry of white and a newfound chill in the air.
It was nearing the height of winter, Jack noted.
Inside of his adoptive father's old Honda, the heating had yet to catch up with the cold morning chill, and as he let out a breath Jack saw the air frost before his eyes. He smiled and felt a small surge of playfulness, but it was gone all too soon once his attention diverted elsewhere. On the driver's side of the car, Jack's adoptive father said a few choice words about the cold, and reached a hand away from the wheel to notch up the heat. North was a largely framed man with a white, neatly kept beard, both will and actions tough as nails, though his eyes often held an unsurpassable amount of joy. Said man had in his tone a russian accent, quite intimidating to those who didn't know of his kindhearted behavior.
On the present day – the fifth of January, Jack found himself on his way to Burgess High, returning for his second term after the winter break.
The small town of Burgess, Pennsylvania, was an average college town. It was nothing too special in Jack's mind; the area was surrounded by quiet woodlands, with small ponds, rivers, and lakes marking the lands as well. They had moderately warm summers walled by chilly winter months, the seasons never failing to make their rounds every year. This town held the strongest sense of home he'd ever felt. Adapting to the area when he was seven years old was hard, yet as fate had it, he and his younger sister had grown to love every inch that surrounded them.
And so, as Jack worried his lip, he was bothered by his recently found desire to leave Burgess. There was a certain fragility to the place now. The ground beneath his feet seemed unstable, like thin ice, threatening to crack under the slightest bit of pressure.
Shivers had run down Jack's spine, concentrating all thoughts back to the prickling cold. The worn passenger seat was freezing beneath his thighs, and as he shifted his position to stuff his hands underneath of them, his previously forlorn gaze had shifted back to a sharp focus, and he huffed out a breath of frustration.
"What is problem, Jack?" From his seat, North voiced a weary laugh. "Trip to school is not to your liking?"
He offered North a grin, though he assumed by the doubtful look on his adoptive father's face that the grin had turned sour without his trying. Oh, what's the use, Jack thought, his expression dropping altogether. North sighed and spared Jack of his gaze as he turned back to facing the road ahead.
"This day will be hard, Jack." North told him, a weak smile at his lips. "But you must stay strong. It is new year, and things will be different, yes… but it will get better over time." His promise was warming to the heart, though as Jack mulled over the words, he grimaced. Things would be different now,that he knew. He had a strong ache in his chest, swelling his throat to a constant close, all due to the fact that things would not get better. Not when someone so dear and important in his life was gone; and certainly not when it was his fault.
After another few minutes of dreadful waiting, the car rolled to a final stop, and out the window stood the two story structure of Burgess High. Red bricks with a white trimming, large frosted windows, and a set of double doors proudly displaying the front of the unspeakably dull school. The outer yard was blanketed by a newly fallen layer of snow, not yet dirtied and stomped on at the ungodly hour of seven thirty a.m. Burgess High's morning period didn't begin until eight thirty. With an excruciating hour set before him, Jack had almost forgotten the reason of his early drive. He was already eager for the day to end before it had even begun.
North drew his attention back with a rough cough.
He handed Jack some neatly folded papers, which held his student information and a report of his current state. It was professionally written, signed by his old school counselor and all.
"This is for office. I called last week, but it never hurts to give reminder, yes?" North tried for a smile. "Give it in right away, Jack, and they should inform your teachers for you."
Jack mouthed a thanks, though not a sound escaped him. He lifted his backpack from the floor, opened the car door, and shivered at the rush of wind that had flown into the car. After taking a small breath, he stepped out onto the snowy road.
Behind him, North wished him a good day, and the man smiled tiredly. Jack nodded and smiled back, shut the passenger door, and began a (falsely) confident strut towards the school's main entrance. Though his mind felt nothing but dread, he felt the need to keep up his usual appearance. Courageous, outgoing, and happy… It was, in all honesty, the opposite of how he felt right then.
He shook the thought, and pulled a hand from his hoodie's pocket to open the door before him. There was a groan from the hinges, a rush of warm air, and then the sound of someone calling his name.
"Hey, Jack!"
It was a classmate of his—Liam, Lyman, something like that—with his arm raised in greeting.
He wanted to say something back; no, he should have, but all that followed was silence. There was a wave in reply, that was all Jack could offer, then he hurriedly kept course for the office. There was a newfound ache in his chest whenever he found his voice absent, as it often was for the past few weeks.
[December 20th – three weeks earlier.]
That morning, Jack had been happy. He woke to the sight of sunlight pouring into his bedroom. It cast shadows and shines along his walls, reflecting around and into his eyes. Curiously, he wondered who opened the window's blinds. Of course, his curiosity was short lived; beside him, his little sister began to talk.
"Jack, please! I know you're awake!" As he hid beneath his covers and pillows, Emma shoved her little hands against his back. She laughed, repeating his name in annoyance. "Jack. I'll have you know, Dad said he'd make us pancakes. But only if you get outta bed!"
The boy groaned, clearly against the aspect of getting up. Nonetheless, his head of white hair poked out from under his blanket to stare at his sister. Though he was tired, he wore a small smile. "Why so early?" he asked with a coarse voice. Emma crossed her arms, sporting a stubborn pout on her face.
"It's not early, it's already noon, you idiot."
Jack laughed, hiding back into his covers. He stuck his hand out and made little shooing motions.
"Still too tired," he called.
Emma huffed out with impatience. She then jumped onto her brother's bed and tried her best to rile him awake, a grin planted firmly on her face. When he groaned in annoyance and threw his blankets off to the side, she stuck out her tongue smugly. She was all too aware of the tussle that was about to begin, so she wasn't at all surprised when Jack lunged for her.
He tickled at her sides, laughing like a madman while Emma kicked her feet around and tried to wiggle free, shrieks of laughter coming from her as well. The more they tossed and turned, the more his blankets tangled around their feet, and they soon found themselves tumbling onto the floor.
"I call truce!" said Jack, an arm shielding his face dramatically as he lay on his room's hardwood floor. Next to him, Emma sat up and asked, "So you'll come down for pancakes?"
As soon as he uttered a yes, she cheered.
"Beat you downstairs, Jack!" And then she left.
The school's office was pristine. Stark white tiles were aligned on the floor, probably polished the night before, along with freshly painted walls in a tan tone. It was like an attempt to soothe the suffocating atmosphere that always came with Burgess High's office.
Jack's past trips to the office had always been tense. They were often met with punishments (detentions, suspensions, or in special cases, a stern talking to), but those things only worsened the atmosphere. The room itself was stuffy. It had stiff waiting chairs and rickety coffee tables, each showcasing pamphlets on troubled teens and how to help them, or tips and tricks on better studying routines. There were blinding fluorescent lights all over the room, bathing it in an intoxicating white, along with the constant ticking of a clock far too loud to be considered white noise.
It was almost physically painful to be confined in this room, this orderly hellhole. So with great pain, Jack set himself in line behind another student, his information papers in hand.
Distractedly, he took to observing the brown-haired student ahead of him. He was poised with broad shoulders but a lithe figure, and had his head tilted to the side. With his back turned from Jack, he was staring intently at the secretary. She seemed to be giving him directions—a left turn there and a trip up the stairs after—though Jack had no idea where she was trying to lead him to.
And when she was finished, he spoke quietly, seemingly asking for her to clarify again.
Jack felt a pang of sympathy for the guy.
Though Burgess was a small town, its high school was anything but. It was large with impractical designs, all due to the number of renovations and additions that were added throughout the years. He remembered how it took him a full school year to know his own way around. Many class hours were spent roaming the halls, finding all of the classrooms and corners that most people didn't know about. Jack took pride in that, at the time. Somehow, he once found himself on the school rooftop, and it took him quite a while to find his way back down. He visited the rooftops for days after, as though it were a secret hideout of his.
His thoughts were interrupted as someone called his name. Jack's stare darted to the secretary, locking his curious gaze with her own expectant one.
"Overland?" She repeated, smiling at him kindly. Wait, what? Kindly? The secretary, a middle-aged woman with harshly tied hair and brimless glasses, who had worked behind that desk for as long as Jack could recall, had never called his name without pursed lips and a scowl. He was, to put it simply, surprised.
"Are you here for detention already?" Okay, so change that to mildly surprised.
"Only joking dear," She laughed with dry humor and beckoned him forward. He complied, his brows furrowed in confusion. "I was hoping you could lead Mr. Haddock here to the art room. Is that alright?"
Jack glanced sideways at the "Mr. Haddock" in question, and he was met with large green eyes staring right back at him; green eyes that looked pensive with a hint of curiosity. Quick to break the awkward eye contact, Jack looked instead at the boy's appearance, quite curious himself. He spotted a few small braids in his hair, and wondered if they were symbolic – you know, well earned in some traditional kind of way. Tons of students at Burgess High tended to follow weird familial traditions, and so his guess couldn't have been too out of the norm.
The Haddock boy had a strong jawline, he noticed, and his face was littered with freckles. They dusted over his cheeks and forehead, but gathered messily all over his nose.
Perched on his nose was a pair of glasses, thickly framed in a hipster sort of way. Jack decided that they made him look like one of those "know-all" students, either always knowledgeable on things, or always willing to learn more… a smart-aleck, minus the obnoxiousness.
Behind those glasses, Haddock kept observing him, his head tilted as though deep in thought, before he arched an eye brow in question with a crooked smirk on his lips.
Realizing far too late that he has been caught staring, Jack's eyes went wide for a brief moment, and he forgot to question that the kid has been staring as well. Hastily, he collected himself and huffed out in irritation. Seemingly haughty (but oh so embarrassed), Jack turned his attention back to the secretary before him, and tried his best to ignore the heat that rose to his face.
He barely heard the boy chuckle beside him.
"Great," The secretary took his silence as a yes. She swiveled around on her chair, and grabbed from top of the printer a schedule. She passed it to the Haddock boy, and then smiled at both of them. "Is there anything else you need?"
Oh, right. Jack brought forward his information letter, and the secretary took it without question. As she made a brief note of it, her composure turned from one extreme to another; from indifference to pure empathy. Jack felt himself tense up, knowing full well what she was about to say.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Jackson."
Grief flowed anew like an open dam. His throat was swelling with that familiar ache, and he imagined it closing off from anything that tried to pass, not even a swallow getting through.
Jack stuffed both of his hands into his blue hoodie's pocket, feeling the need to shrink away from her sad gaze. But as his hands clenched tightly, he plastered on a smile to feign composure, and nodded thanks to her. He stepped back from the counter.
Over his shoulder, he motioned for the Haddock boy to follow him, paying no attention to the questioning look on the boy's face. And thus began the silent walk of follow the leader.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are always appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed it so far!