Hello there fanfiction readers. How you doing?

I decided to create a sequel and, by popular requesting, Roger has been chosen to be the (quite reluctant) matchmakee.

I hope you enjoy and please, don't be shy to reviewing! Happy hunting! C:

P.S. All the boys (minus Simon and the littl'uns) are in the eleventh grade).

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Clink.

Jack frowned and looked up from his studying when he heard that noise and looked over at the clock. It was almost ten at night. Odd. Maybe it was just a squirrel…

Clink.

Clink.

"Pssst! Jack!"

Bang.

Jack jumped at the last part. Unless squirrels were suddenly capable of whispering his name in the dead of night and hurling stones at his bedroom window, there was someone outside his window. Jack threw open his window and leaned out of it to find the detestably cheery Ralph standing underneath the open window.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here at ten at night?!" Jack hissed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his parents weren't awoken by such unfortunate events. Thankfully, his parents slept on the other side of the house, and continued snoring.

"Important top-secret business is always discussed in the shadows where none can see," Ralph insisted, hopping on one foot, then the other like a five-year old about to get a cookie. Jack sighed and hung his head, defeated. It was way too late to deal with this and he already had a pounding headache from Calculus homework.

"Can you let me in- wait! No, I'll just climb up! Stand back!" Ralph whisper-yelled up to Jack, who glared at him for suggesting such a dimwitted idea, but nonetheless, stood back as Ralph was not one to be deterred by such a frivolous thing as common sense or reason.

After a few moments of huffing a puffing, a red-faced Ralph made his way to Jack's window. The redhead rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm, yanking the blonde through and purposely making him tumble to the floor in a panting heat. Jack stood over him, scowling, hands on hips.

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about oh-so-badly at ten oh clock at night?" Jack demanded.

Ralph caught his breath, grinning like an idiot up at him. "I found someone else to match-make!"

"That's not even a verb, you twat," Jack pointed out a bit spitefully. "And why, pray tell, do you think I want to be involved in another one of your matchmaking schemes again?"

"Because I am matchmaking… Roger!" Ralph declared with enough bravado and charisma as Enjolras from les Amis de l'ABC. But, sadly, he did not get the patriotic (and slightly drunken) leading to the creation of a giant wall made from furniture. Jack snorted, most unhelpfully and unpatriotically.

"Roger? Like hell he's going to approve of it…" Jack laughed, a condescending smirk curling his lips up.

"That's why I needed to talk to you about it here!" Ralph insisted, not dampened by Jack's negative wet-blanket-ness. "Prom is the biggest night of our lives so far! These are the days that we will look back upon saying: 'It was the best of times; it was the worst of times'!"

"And what was that quote from?"

"Shakespeare? I dunno, do I look like an English professor? Anyway, it's not like we're trying to find his future wife or something, just a date to the prom that he wouldn't be plotting to kill by the end of the night!" Ralph argued, making Jack roll his eyes. "And he's your best friend! You know him better than I do!"

Jack weighed his pros and cons, pursing his lips together in thought. "Fine," he suddenly said. "But only to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Ralph grinned and punched the air in triumph. "Alright! The Dream Team, reunited once again!"

"Shh! You wanker! My parents are asleep!" Jack hissed, slapping a hand over Ralph's mouth and peeking down the hall in worry. Still dark. What a relief.

"Sorry," Ralph whispered once Jack let go of him. "I should go, I guess…"

"Wait," Jack said suddenly and grabbed his arm. "While you're here, and since you made a ruckus in my house, you can help me with my calculus homework." He gestured over to his desk, lit by a lamp (the only light on in the room, so not to disturb the Merridews). Ralph nodded and pulled up a chair next to Jack's. Math was something he was good in.

"So, on question one, in order to find x/o, you need to…"

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P.S. Ralph was actually quoting the first line of A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. Vast difference from Shakespeare.