Summary: Jack is a city boy, from LA. He moves to Chicago so his parents can salvage their marriage. The girl next door to him is none other then one Kate Austen. Follow them through their last year of school, a year of ups and downs, romance and heartbreak and figuring out what true love is really all about.
Jack looked out his bedroom window; he had to admire the quiet streets below. No rushing traffic, no honking, no yelling, just a simple suburban neighbourhood on a simple suburban Sunday afternoon. The late afternoon sun shone on his pristine white carpet and white walls gleamed in a way that reminded Jack of home sickness he used to get when he was a boy and his mother left him at daycare. Jack was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of sickness and dread. Not unlike his feelings when he was tot, abandoned early in the morning and picked up again in the evening. That is what was happening to the older Jack. Being moved from his large apartment suite in sunny Los Angeles and into unfamiliar territory in strange, cold Chicago, Illinois.
Jack sighed and moved away from his window and sat down on the strange new bed. Jack's old bed had not been large enough to fit in this room. His parents had bought him a futon with light brown wood on either end of the bed. It was strange and surreal. Jack had white cotton pillows and sheets, a bare wall and a small desk in the corner of his tiny bedroom. He also had a little closet, barely big enough to hold all his things. Everything else he owned was still in the cellar downstairs. In boxes he couldn't bring himself to look in. Jack wanted his things back but he feared painful memories would arise. He would see his gold and blue Egyptian bed sheets with an impressively high thread count, his gleaming football trophies, his huge CD collection and worst of all, his collection of photos of his amazing high school, his beautiful girlfriend, close knit group of friends and the beautiful beaches of L.A.
Jack's mother and father had practically dragged him across the country. Jack was sure his nail marks could be seen if you looked closely at the high way. His mother and father had always had marriage issues, Jack would not deny it, maybe could not deny it anymore, in the current situation. Either way, Jack's mother had decided that they move, leave the rich and fabulous life and get back to basics, improve their family and their marriage. So, they packed up their big screen, sold their 300,000 dollar suite, pulled Jack out of private school and moved to Chicago. Or as Jack called it, his personal hell on earth. He didn't live in the big city anymore; he couldn't find a club right down the street, or run into a celebrity. He had to attended a public school, take the school bus or walk instead of taking a train or driving in his mom's Mini Cooper or Dad's BMW. He lived in a somewhat large house, Jack had to admit, it wasn't small, in a neighbourhood where all the houses were identical and none had pools.
He heard banging downstairs and walked onto the landing. The top floor of the house had four bedrooms and two bathrooms. One was Jack's parent's bedroom, with a large bathroom attached, another was nursery, Jack had no idea what that was for or why they would need and didn't want to think about it. The other was his room and the last one a guest bedroom. He walked across the hard wood floor and leaned over the edge of the railing. From there he could see the stairs, the front door and the sitting room. He sighed as he heard another yell and a bang and walked down the stairs, around the corner and into the living room. The living room, the kitchen, dining room, and sitting room where are all interloped around the stairs and front door. In the living room there was a door Jack was training himself not to look at, the door to the basement. He saw his mom slamming the back door shut and holding two paper bags full of groceries.
"Are you okay?" He asked his mother. She sighed and swiped her red brown hair out of her face. She smiled at him, a rare thing for Jack to see. Until they had moved here his mother was cold hearted and depressed. He knew she felt like she was failing, because her marriage was failing and her job as a mother was failing. One night Jack had heard the whole thing come out. Christian, his father, and Margo his mother had a screaming fight in the kitchen, while Jack had crawled out his bedroom window and walked along the balcony, and listened though the open window. His mother had screamed and cried, trying to get Christian to admit he didn't love her and he was having an affair, but he didn't. He still loved her and he denied an affair. Jack figured his mother had wanted this to make it easier for her to file for divorce, to say it wasn't her fault the marriage wasn't working. But in Jack's eyes it was both of their faults. Christian worked more than he did anything else combined and Margo was always shopping and going out for coffee, barley seeing Christian when he was at home. Margo told Christian that if he loved her, he would move back to Chicago with her, the place she had grown up, though she was born in Britain. They would go Chicago and save their marriage. Christian agreed in the end, even though L.A. was probably his first true love.
"Yes, I'm fine," Margo breathed, setting down the groceries. Jack saw they held only jugs of milk. One percent, ugh.
"Why one percent?" Jack asked wrinkling his nose. The eighteen year old walked over to the island and hopped up on the bar stool. The whole Shepherd family had always drunk organic.
"They don't have any organic health stores near us. All of them are across the city so this how it from now on." Margo explained, unloading the milk.
"Great," Jack grumbled. "is that all you got? What about my lunch? For tomorrow at school?" Jack was used to their Mexican helper packing him his lunches. They varied from East Indian food, to well prepared sandwiches, and on his birthday he sometimes got something like escargot. He knew it was over the top, to have food like that for lunch, at school, but Jack wanted to eat healthy, and have it taste good.
"You'll buy your lunch." Margo told him bluntly. Jack sighed. He knew there was no use in arguing this point. Margo and Christian were being firm with changes in Jack's life. He was no longer allowed to use credit cards; he had to actually go get his own job. Anytime Jack had pointed out how unfair this was, he was told that he wasn't putting his family ahead of his own, petite wants. "Don't sigh like that, Jack. You'll be fine. There's a lovely girl next door who's going to the same school as you and everything. I think you should go over and meet her."
Jack frowned. He had broken up with Sarah, his old girlfriend, before he was even aware of the move. But he didn't think he was quite ready for a relationship just yet. Sarah was beautiful, funny, and smart and he had loved her. He had broken up with her because he felt, that no matter how much he loved her, there was someone else out there, waiting for him. He didn't know how to explain it. He could easily see himself being with Sarah for the rest of his life and being happy. But he didn't think she would be, and he doubted he would be as happy as they could. They were a good match but not a perfect match. Sarah had told him that was stupid, unrealistic expectations, and maybe they were, but Jack had always been told to shoot for the moon.
Ever since the breakup, Jack's mother had been trying to find a new girl for him, subtly dropping hints and mentioning a girl when she was almost completely irrelevant of the conversation. He would find a girl when he finds a girl, he had explained to his somewhat fragile mother at the time. She just smiled and told him she knew.
"How old is she?" Jack asked.
"She's...in your grade." His mother said timidly.
"How old?" Jack asked firmly.
"Well, she turned in sixteen in January." His mother flushed. She was sixteen and nine months.
Jack didn't respond. Jack had been held back a grade when he was younger. Only for grade one, they said he had difficulty understanding concepts and getting along with other children. Thus, Jack was turning nineteen for his last year of high school, while all his friends were turning eighteen. This girl must have skipped a grade and was going to be seventeen when she graduated, not eighteen like the rest of her class, and defiantly not nineteen like Jack.
Jack jumped up from the table and was going to back upstairs, into his room for a nap, some piece of mind at least. "Jack...!" His mother called. "Maybe you should unpack!" Jack stopped and bounced on the balls of his feet. "Just some school things...nothing else needs to be taken out right away..." She trailed off, clearly aware of how the move was affecting Jack. Jack glanced towards the door and then thought to his bare bedroom up stairs. He did need clothing, his backpack, shoes...
He moved towards the staircase before he lost his nerve. He gripped the gold coloured doorknob and turned it, flinging the white door open. He bounded down the wooden stairs, two a time and stopped at the sight before him. In the dark, cold basement lay about eleven boxes. All Jack's. He felt a twinge of pain as he saw his sheets poking out at him from one. He moved past them and eyed a box that that he knew very well held maybe only half his CD'S. He tried to ignore them but it seemed as if each artist were screaming his name. "Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!" They chanted, desperate to be heard to again, to be listened to as Jack sang along with them, dancing in his boxers or doing his biology homework. He blocked out his own name, knowing it was only in his head. He saw the box labelled 'clothing,' and he grabbed it. It wasn't very heavy. It was only one out of three. He glanced around and saw an even smaller box that read 'school,' he grabbed it and ran up the stairs, not looking back.
Well? Yay or nay? Next time we learn Jack is not a snob, we meet Kate and a few other well known people. Also...I know that no one really asked for this one, but I didn't offer it. But this one has the most written up.