Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny? No, Nathan was too old to believe in those. He was turning seventeen next week and as he grew older, he felt his imagination slipping away bit by bit. Or did he? There was one person from his childhood fantasy that he still held on to: Jack Frost.
It seemed silly. No one else of his age believed in such things anymore. Heck, they didn't believe in anything at all, except for going out and doing exactly what their parents didn't want them to do. But Nathan was never quite like them. He wasn't some social outcast or an oddball. He was a really great guy, actually. He got along with everyone and did well at most things. Yet he always felt as if there had to be something more… something to explain inexplicable things. And in some cases he simply loved imagining that the supernatural things that seemed so normal in his childhood could be real. But what if they are? Well, Nathan was going to find out real soon.
It all began when Nathan was late for school. He had never been late before, so he didn't particularly care about that part, but since he didn't want to miss too much of his classes, he decided to cycle a little faster. As he tried to take a sharp turn to the right, he felt his tires slipping. Ice? It was the last thought that went through his mind before he slammed down on the ground, the bike on top of him and the cold street below.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" A voice was shouting in the distance. He didn't hear anyone approach, but before he knew it, a boy with a dark blue hooded sweatshirt stood over him. Nathan grunted something unintelligible and tried to shove the bike off of him. The boy immediately helped him and then held the bicycle as he held out his other hand to help him up. Nathan took the outstretched hand and wiped some dirt off his gray jacket. Good thing he had decided to wear something dark to school today. As he looked up at the boy again, he noticed him looking at his own hands in amazement.
"You okay?" Nathan asked, even though he was the one who had just fallen. The boy looked up at him, blinking rapidly.
"You can see me?" He asked. Nathan quirked an eyebrow. What an odd question. He took the bike and the boy immediately let go and took a small step backwards.
"Well, yeah, of course I can. Why were you shouting sorry anyway? It's not like you can help it that I slipped. I had no idea that it has been so cold last night." Nathan shrugged casually and slung his leg over his bicycle again, preparing to leave soon.
"I said sorry because this was my fault. But I'll make it up to you." Nathan narrowed his eyes and looked closely at the boy. He didn't think he had ever seen him before. He must've been around his age, although that was hard to tell with him keeping the hood of his sweatshirt up. He had a rather boyish face, so maybe he was even older than Nathan thought. Or younger, for that matter. Suddenly Nathan's eyes fell upon a lock of white hair, sticking out from under the hood. His mouth fell open and he knew it, yet he wasn't able to close it again.
"What's the matter?" The boy asked.
Nathan just shook his head. "Nothing. I've got to go. To school." Nathan then nodded and quickly took off, not even thanking his helper. He heard the boy shout something, but he didn't catch everything. All he heard was the word 'later'.
During the last five minutes of his ride, a lot went through his mind. Was that Jack Frost? Had he actually been helped by some childhood fantasy? Surely not. It must've been some kid who just so happened to have dyed his hair white. But then what did he mean when he said it was his fault? He knew Jack Frost could create ice wherever he wanted. Ice and snow. It was his way of bringing happiness. Did the boy have a staff? He used both his hands to help him, but he could've put it down. Nathan couldn't remember, though. When he arrived at school and entered his classroom he was still thinking about it. He robotically sat down on his usual spot and the day passed in a blur.
At the end of the day, a single thought had pushed itself to the front of his mind. If that boy was Jack Frost, then he had to find him again, no matter what.