Stroke of Luck

by I Slay Darkness With Belief

Mr. Winkler just assigned a poem project. You have to write four verses: Life. Family. Friendship and... Love?

Heyyy!

Okay, I got a review from izzi08 on one of my poem one-shots, and she said: write poems of other couples like unoe amberxalfie, and jara? I've actually been thinking this up for a while now... it's different from my other poem-fics... I'll just explain it later in the story. But the point is that it actually is a story instead of a single poem... so... Enjoy =)

Also, some information: This is set before the season finale, Nina and Fabian are still dancing around their feelings as usual. Which is dissapointing, but it really hasn't got to do with too much of this story... Also, Mick and Mara have gone their seperate ways. Aw. Too bad. Sorry Mickra lovers... Also, Jerome isn't part of Sibuna, and he's not too involved with Rufus either. Yayy!

Sorry for potential OOC-ness =(

Disclaimer: I do not own HoA, it's characters or actors, even Jerome Clarke. Who is my like... idol. Only not really, I just love him so much... Is that weird? I'ma stop talking now... But I don't own anything mentioned.

Mara POV (This is new for me. I never get to do Mara's POV)

I scribbled into my notebook, not really paying attention in Drama class. Mr. Winkler's words meshed together like gibberish that only he could understand. I drew little hearts into the notepad, looking up every few seconds to make Winky think I was taking notes. A skill I aquired after we started taking Health class.

I felt something settle down next to me, but I payed no attention. "Oh, Mara, Mara, Mara... You? Doodling? In class?" A familiar voice spoke in my ear, only loud enough for me to hear. I turned to face the blonde, an annoyed look plastered onto my face. "You've really got that look down to the nail haven't you?" I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging the tall boy in the chest.

"Oh hush up, Jerome." I looked up into his eyes. His... blue... eyes. Literally, they were little cups scooped from the Atlantic Ocean, and poured into little balls of crystal, floating around in his iris. They moved fluidly with every blink he took. I blinked myself, realizing that Mr. Winkler had stopped speaking momentarily to stare at me. I was gazing at Jerome, who had his eyebrows raised along with a cocky grin.

Mr. Winkler wiped his face with his hand, turning away; just long enough for me to slap Jerome's abs- don't think about them- quickly.

"Okay, Mara. Can you tell the class what we were discussing? Nobody else seemed to hear a word I said." He asked me, patiently. And then to the class "I'm not speaking gibberish, guys! It's a simple concept!"

I took in a sharp breath. I looked about the room, where- as Jason mentioned- not one person was paying attention. I rolled my eyes before feeling a notepad fall on my hands. I looked down on it, frazzled. The writing was barely leggible but I could work through it.

"P- po- poems?" I looked up at Mr. Winkler who blinked at me, probably shocked that I had to think about it. I'm usually extraordinarily attentive in class. This, however, changed when Amber made me set up prom. That's all I've thought about for the past week and a half.

"Yes, but what specific types of poems?"

I squinted at the paper, trying to make the strange images into little letters. "o... m... n... e... g... o... i..." I whispered to myself, ignoring the impatient huffing of Jerome beside me.

"Oh, for the love of- unrequited! Unrequited love poems! Unrequited, mutual, and unwanted love poems. Poems about life in general, friends, family, thoughts. Then there are the types of poems, such as free-verse, rhyming- with specific schemes like haiku, and then sonnets and limmericks." Sighing and putting his head in his hands, Jerome acted completely defeated.

"Wow Jerome... I didn't know you were paying attention..." I said, my voice was small- no louder than a whisper.

"Yeah, well, that's why I came over here. I had nothing else better to do than to pay attention. It was repulsing. So I came to bother you." I raised my eyebrows- something that I do a lot around Jerome.

"Well perhaps you should learn how to write..."

His head snapped up, "Well perhaps you should learn how to read."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been annoying me! I could've gotten some work done!"

"In order for you to get work done, Mara... wouldn't you have to be paying attention?" Jerome asked calmly.

"What if I was paying attention, Jerome?"

"Well you weren't, Mara."

"Yes I was!"

We both faced eachother are noses almost touching, I was right up in his face, if only I could just- "Do you two need to take this outside?"

"Yes." Jerome replied quickly, smirking at me.

"No!" I retaliated against him, straightening my spine and looking confident.

"You know guys..." Mr. Winkler caught our attention again, waving our hands in front of our faces. "It was a rhetorical question..." I looked up at him, blushing. In attempt to hide the blood rushing to my cheekbones, I looked down at my twiddeling fingers.

"Sorry Mr. Winkler... My mind was elsewhere, and I apoligize. I was just so caught up in the prom, and everything... Please. Continue with your lesson." I replied, honestly sorry for not paying attention. I looked down again, planning to actually take notes on what Mr. Winkler would go on about.

I wrote a few things down, attentive but not really enthusiastic about it. I've never liked poetry. I always felt that there had to be some other form or creativity into a piece to draw you in. Words never appealed to me, in contradiction to popular belief. I did school work so I could get into a good college and grow up to get a good job, and have the ability to support a family. But the actual doing the work part was never fun. It was decipline that I had grown used to.

After a while of taking notes, I looked up at the clock. There were seven minutes left in the period when Mr. Winkler made the announcment. "Okay, class, all next week, you are going to make a poem. It will have four verses. The first will be about life right now. The second will be about family life." I got excited, because I love talking about my family. However, next to me, I could feel Jerome stiffen. I remembered about what he told me about his family, and I felt bad again. This wasn't going to be much of a fun project for him. "The third will be about your friends here in the school, and/or outside of the school. The fourth verse will be about love. Ah, yes. The verses can be as long as you want, but with a minimum of four lines. This may be free-verse or it could be a rhyming poem. However, if you choose for it to rhyme, you have to tell me the rhyme scheme along with the poem. Like..." He was interrupted by the bell, and we were saved by it. "If any of you are intrested in rhyming, and do not know how to label the rhyme scheme, talk to me after class!" He managed to get out before we were all gone.

I stood up from my cushon, taking my bag and slinging over my shoulder. Jerome, who walked next to me, seemed to have calmed down from the mention of family. I debated telling him that all of us at the house were like family to him, but I didn't want to bring it up after it had just been put to rest.

I suddenly remembered something that had confused me. I turned back to Mr. Winkler, who was explaining something to Nina and Fabian. He had out a piece of paper with a poem on it. He was labeling different lines with letters. If the line rhymed with another one, he would put the same letter down next to it.

"Ahhem, Mr. Winkler?" I asked, getting a bit shy around the teacher (who just caught me not paying attention). He turned to face me and nodded, smiling. "Yes, this is drama class, correct?" He nodded again, raising his eyebrows in confusion. "What does the poem project have to do with drama?"

Mr. Winkler smiled wider, tilting his head to the side. "You see, Mara. We just finished the Shakespeare unit. While Shakespeare was most famous for his plays, he also wrote over 150 sonnets! Sonnets are types of poems that have exactly 14 lines and can be broken up into sections called quatrains, but they don't have to be. I don't believe Shakespeare ever did that... Anyway, poetry was closely related to dramatic arts, specifically with Shakespeare. We will also be performing these pieces in front of the class next week. Be prepared." With a smile and a light nod, he walked off.

I turned around, most of my questions answered. I would've expected this from the English teacher, but not Drama. I walked off, noticing Jerome beside me again. "Why do you follow me around everywhere?" I didn't turn my head, I just rolled my eyes at the blonde.

"Well, you're often alone, and so am I... I figured we could at least be alone... together." I looked up at him, shocked. Sure, I've been kind of alone just a little bit after Mick and I broke it off... Just a little bit. I mean, we were still friends, he just couldn't handle the jealousy... But I couldn't get over it...

Jerome on the other hand, was usually always a loner. Turning every corner, making a new enemy to every friend he saw. It wasn't really his fault... Okay. Maybe it was. But that was just his... way. That was just his way of dealing with things. Things like his pent-up anger. His hatred towards his parents and family. It was just his way. And you couldn't really blame him for all of that... It wasn't his fault.

I just smiled at him; because he couldn't be more spot-on about our friendship. That's what I could respect about him (if I could respect him at all, this was it). He always told it like it was, his opinion on everything. Sometimes it was the wrong way to say it. Sometimes it was at the wrong time or to the wrong people. But he wasn't afraid. Even if he was, he made it look like he wasn't.

I'm sure from day 1, he tried to make himself the tough guy. He wouldn't let anything push him around. He wouldn't let anyone get in his way. He always had his head held up high. And that's what I respect about him. Perhaps it wasn't really the proper way to deal with issues. He could let it out every once in a while. He could have some sort of diary. He could talk to someone- but that's me. Isn't it? I'm the one he talks to when he's upset.

I guess I should be flattered. And I was at that point; but only for a moment. He needs closure. Closure of some sort that would rid him of all this emotional stress he's feeling. "Jerome, what are you going to do for the poem?" I skipped, hopping up next to him again. I smiled, kind of hoping that I would be able to help.

"I guess I'm going to have to write it." I rolled my eyes, just noticing that we were outside already. And it was cold. The cool breeze didn't help the situation, either. My eyes widened and I attempted to walk a little faster to get to the house. I never really had a high tolerance for the cold.

I felt Jerome speed up beside me also, talking my speed as a challenge. I smirked, "Jerome, I'm cold!" I walked quicker, trying to go faster than him.

"Well, maybe you need some air! I bet I can make it back into Anubis before you!" He shouted (quite childishly) from ahead of me. I caved and ran faster, giggling uncontolably. As soon as I caught up to Jerome I smacked him in the shoulder. We were still running at almost full speed back to the house.

An idea popped into my head; watching Nina's American television shows were finally paying off. I abruptly stopped, trying to settle my smile into a depressed frown. "Jerome! Jerome!" I called so he would notice me. I sat down, holding my right ankle tightly. Jerome swiftly turned around, smirking. His sarcastic smile fell at the sight of me. He was only bare inches from the steps of Anubis.

I "broke out in tears", silently laughing behind them. I heard Jerome run back up to me obviously worried. I felt a pang of guilt- Jerome is almost never worried... Except for people he truly cares about, like when Alfie went to the hospital... I felt special behind the guilt. Like I was worthy of being cared about.

It was hard to pull off the frown after that.

He pulled me up (surprisingly strong behind his lack-of-muscle), draping my right arm over his shoulders. I limped slowly, not saying a word while he carried me to the front steps. I felt oddly secure with his arms around me. I felt really safe, like he would always be there for me. Still without speaking, he grabbed my waist and lifted me up to the top step.

I turned around to face him, my frown slowly turning to a sly grin. "Oh you freaking devil, you..." He muttered before charging up the steps to me. I ran into the house in victory, before being wisked away and spun around by the tall blonde boy. "Well played, Mara. Well played." He smiled as he set me down in front of him.

All of my guilt melted away by just looking at him. I knew he hadn't taken what I'd done seriously. I sighed in relief, and walked off. "I won."

I walked up to my room to start off the project. I figured that if I did one verse every night, that I could be able to complete it by the time it was due. I knew Jerome was behind me, out of breath. I just rolled my eyes, walking to my desk. "Okay, Jerome, want me to help you with your poem?"

I set my bags down on my bed, and ran a brush quickly through my hair at my desk. As I sat down on my spinney-chair, I looked at Jerome on the bed. "Nah, I'll just sit here and do it." He tossed me a smirk, pulling out his notebooks. "Okay, so the first one is on life right now?" I nodded, surprised that he took notes.

"Yeah... You're just going to sit there?" I asked, confused by his motives. He just looked up from his paper, smiled, and looked back down. I rolled my eyes and concentrated on my paper.

It want on like that all week; and this was only Friday. We skipped the weekend, because there were only five verses to do. Monday, the same thing happened. He followed me up to my room to do work, starting wih the poem project. We worked on all of our classes before supper, and went down to eat. After the meal, we would hang out and talk on the couch. We would go to bed at 10:00, and wake up in the morning to do the same routine.

Thursday night went a little differently. After talking to him all week, I didn't know why he always acted this way; being rude to everyone. He was always as sweet as can be around me. I smiled whenever I saw him, and we would joke around steal hugs and whatnot. It was almost like nobody else existed when I was with him. Not all of the Mick drama, not painfully watching Fabian and Nina dance around their feelings, not anything. It was kind of a big relief.

After finishing our spaghetti tacos (another bright idea from Nina and her strange American television shows), Jerome and I sat down at our usual spots on the couch. The rest of the house had gone to their rooms, except for Mick who was cleaning up. We kept our voices at a whisper in case he would hear us.

"So are you going to tell me what you wrote anytime soon?" I asked, crossing my legs.

"Of course!" He smirked showing off his glimmering teeth. I smiled, excited that he would show it to me. He'd been extremely self-conscious about it all week. "Tomorrow, when I present it to the class." Of course.

"Oh, okay, fine. Can you tell me some things about it?" He shrugged, a little un-interested.

"Well... I wrote about life... and then I wrote about family... and then I wrote about friendship... and then I wrote about love." He tried not to laugh, though it didn't work out that well. Every word passed, he snickered a bit harder. By the end he was covering his mouth, smiling a cocky grin. "Oh come on, that was funny and you know it. Stop being such a goody-two-shoes who can't laugh at anything that isn't academically related." I tried really hard to be mad at him for calling me a goody-two-shoes, but my smile crept up on me, catching me off guard before I could stop it from appearing. "See! I knew you weren't a robot!"

After a moment or two, I started to burst out laughing along with him. It was like he was my best friend, and it went both ways. After Amber and Mick left me for eachother, and Alfie left Jerome for Nina, Fabian, Amber and Patricia (who also left me), it was almost like everyone left us... so we only had eachother to lean on. And I could live with that.

"Well, aside from that, did you make it rhyme?" I said calming down from our laughter.

He pondered the thought for a moment before answering. "Well, no... But not because I suck at rhyming. I mean, that is definately one of the main reasons, but that's not really why... I always liked poetry. I mean, what girl doesn't like poetry? So I learned it way back in sixth grade to catch the ladies." He paused, looking off into space at his sixth grade self. Oh, Jerome. You're still the obnoxcious Jerome I know and- "Anyway, I came to like it a lot. I just always thought that the ones I read that didn't rhyme were a bit more heart-wrenching. They got to the soul quicker... In my opinion."

I smiled. Since when was Jerome this... deep?

"Good reason." Suddenly, I was out of breath; like I just got punched in the chest. My stomach hurt... only in a really good way. There was something really intense about it. My eyes couldn't rest on one place in the room. Not even on his deep blue eyes. With every place my eyes darted to, I could see him smiling at me.

I yawned, realizing just how tired I was at that moment. It had been a long day, way too work filled. It was only 9:00 PM, though. Jerome noticed how tired I was, and turned on the television. He put his arm around me like it was completely normal. I let my head rest against his chest and just lie there for a while. He was the most comfortable pillow I could ever want right now.

I hadn't realized how long we were laying there like that until I heard Victor in the hall. "It is 10 o'Clock! You have 5 minutes presicely, and then I want to be able to hear a pin... drop."

We've been laying here for an hour? I don't think either of us were fully concentrated in the show we were watching; I'm not even sure of the name. All I was thinking about was Jerome, which was really strange. I'd have to talk to Patricia about this... I'm so confused...

I sat up from Jerome who was still smiling. I couldn't help bot smile back at him, "What?"

He just shook his head, "I don't know. Your hair is all messed up." He sat up also, extending his arm to comb my hair down. My breath was gone again, like he stole it. My cheeks lit on fire, and I looked down, hiding my eyes. I had no idea what was causing me to feel this way. The blushing, the butterflies, the breath-loss... There was only one scientific conclusion, and it wasn't scientific at all. And it couldn't be Jerome.

I was so caught up in thinking that I barely realized the close proximity that Jerome and I were to eachother. His face was almost right in front of mine. I could feel his breath mingle with mine, and that only made me stop breathing again. My eyes widened at his. I wanted to say something about this. I really did. But another part of my brain- possibly my heart- shut me up.

A part of me told me to lean forward just a little, to feel his lips against mine. Just once.

Another part screamed louder, telling me to get the hell out of this situation. Flashing lights and sirens bounced around this message in alarm.

But before I got the chance to listen to either of these commands, I was interrupted. "What are you two disgusting delinquents doing here so late? Get off of eachother! You children repulse me! Turn off that television and go up to bed, you two!" I was sure that I was as red as a tomato, but I'm sure Jerome didn't notice. He was too busy running out of there, untangling his fingers with mine.

I walked up to my room. I had to talk to Patricia. And change my verse about love.

The next day, I couldn't wait until we got to Mr. Winkler's class. I was jumping out of my seat all day, strangely giddy about last night. It was unexplainable with just mere words. I somehow managed to put the unremarkable words into my poem.

I sat down patiently in one of the cushons, early for class as usual. Not too soon after, Jerome sat next to me. He shook his hair out and tossed me one of his winning smiles. Mr. Winkler and the others walked in each taking a seat. Alfie, Amber, Patricia, Nina and Fabian sat together in their little possy, not that I minded.

"Okay, we have a lot of poems to go through, and not a lot of time, so who would like to go first?" Mr. Winkler asked from the stage.

Fabian's hand shot up quickly, and Jason waved him onto the stage. "Okay, uh... here goes...

"Life.
Waking up every morning,
The day is almost never boring.
Each obstacle and puzzle comes along,
In life there's never right or wrong.
Everyone I love is by my side,
With every twist and turn on the ride.

Family.
Back at home where my loved-ones live,
They'd be proud of what I acomplished...
I wasn't really too certain about that one...
They always care about what I have to say,
Seeing them right now would make my day.

Friends.
The people running by me,
I'll always be there for thee...
I wasn't too sure about that line either...
They help me up when I fall down,
Even when I make myself look like a clown.

Love.
It's not just a feeling I feel with her,
It melts my heart and make my words a blur.
I love this girl way over there,
She's just so beautiful I can't help but stare.
I love this girl without a doubt,
Only she knows what I'm all about..."

We all snapped at his performance, grinning at Nina. The whole class (except for Nina)knew who he was directing his poem at. Nina wasn't so sure. He walked down to the stage and sat next to her. They whispered to eachother for a moment, and she looked like she was about to cry. She doesn't know he loves her...

That, of course, changed in an instant. His finger delicately touched her chin to pull her lips to meet his. The whole class awed at them, even Jerome (sarcastically, of course). I wish Mick kissed me like that. I wish Jerome would kiss me like that...

Those words did not just come out of my mind.

I shook them out and watched as the next people came up to the stage to recite their poems.

I never got a chance to go, and because it was the last day of the semester, I never would. That was fine with me; apparently people didn't like my speeches too much. Jerome was the last to go; which surprised me. "Okay I guess I'm going to go, now..." He's never nervous. About anything. What happened to funny, cocky, obnoxcious Jerome?

"Life.
It's never been easy.
I've never been the model citizen.
I've never been the man I've destined to be.
The storybook hero isn't me.
I go through life, and I'm the bad guy.
But that's not what any person's life can be.
The same routine should be interrupted,
And improved with each day.

Family.
Not that I've ever had one.
They've always been makeshift.
The strict one at age five to care for me.
Practically father.
The house mother.
Basically my real one.
The makeshift family;
Better than the real one.

Friends.
Sometimes all anyone has.
Sometimes all anyone needs.
Sometimes I wish I had more,
But then I remember the ones I have.
I couldn't wish for anything else.

Love.
I don't even know if I'm good enough for it.
After all I've done;
The damage I've gone through.
The damage I've created.
I don't know if I deserve anyone like her.
I know that when I see her from across the room,
My breath is stolen from me.
I get dizzy from her warmth and kindness.
I've never been warm.
Or kind.
So do I deserve love?"

I smiled. He looked at me during every word of his last verse. I got caught up in the snapping before noticing him come to sit next to me. I was still blinded by who-knows-what.

"Wow, Jerome... uh... class dismissed." Mr. Winkler announced from the stage. Everyone rushed out to get ready for prom.

I started to stand and grab my things when I felt Jerome tug on my shoulder. I spun around, probably grinning like a goon. I looked up (like I usually do. He's kind of tall), to see nothing. I looked at the floor and saw the blonde on one knee with a little black box.

I gasped, confused to say the least. My eyes widened, suddenly afraid. He opened the box to reveal two white tickets. Tickets that I recall designing myself. "So. Do I deserve love?" He whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

Without anything else to say, I smiled and nodded my head with an extreme amount of force. He stood up, taking the tickets out of the case before closing it quickly. He rolled one into a circle putting it around my finger like a ring. He held me close, lifting my chin up to reach his lips. Softly and lovingly, he kissed me. I don't know how long we stood there for; time always seemed to stop when I was with Jerome, but I didn't mind at all.

My poem rang in the back of my mind:

Life.
It's something definately worth living.
It's something that I look forward to.
Going by the storybook is what everyone dreams of.
I want something other than perfect.
I want something other than what is expected of me.
I live life carefully, but to the fullest.
There isn't a reason to be unhappy when I'm with loved ones.
That is something people's lives should go by.
To live life.

Family.
It's all I want sometimes.
I miss them with all my heart.
They're all I needed when I was back home,
But now I need my friends too.

Friends.
I don't know where they've gone.
In a little tightly packed group of themselves.
Centered around mystery and secretism.
I get left out, in my own little world.
But I need friends.
So here he comes.

Love.
He comes here.
My crying and sighing shoulder.
My laughing buddy.
My best friend.
If I needed anyone else, they would be here too.
But in a single moment,
Love is all I need.
Love that he can give to me.
The butterflies.
The breath-attacks.
The brain-numbness.
The symptoms.
Of love.
And by some stroke of luck,
Could I be in love?

I recited the poem in m mind, ticking one last word onto the end of the last verse:

Yes.

I hoped you liked it! Please review with CC! Thanks for taking the time to read this exceptionally long piece of work... Please take the time to review it, because reviews mke me happy =)

~Bubbles!