Last night I had the song Fading Lights by Genesis stuck in my head. And, somehow, this was born.
The formatting almost killed me!
I will say, this song probably isn't for everyone. Not only is it ten minutes, but it's pretty much entirely synthesized. But you don't need to listen to it to understand this story. It really only comes from the first line. (I would also like to mention, that while the song is referred to as "80's rock", the album We Can't Dance actually came out in the early 90's.)
Fading Lights
Dear Jack
Toothiana hesitated, looking at the words she had just written. Flipping her mechanical pencil, she erased the greeting. And once more the page was blank.
She had already spent ten minutes staring at the blank page, trying to think what on earth she wanted to say. And now she was back at square one.
The song from her roommate's laptop was coming to an end, the music fading with a soft shimmer of synthesized notes.
"I'm really sorry, but can I play it one more time?" the red head asked, glancing up from her note book.
"No problem," Toothiana said, shaking her head.
"Thanks," she said, with a relieved smile. "I promise, I'll get new headphones tomorrow."
The song started again, building from a halting, quivering drum beat.
Her stationary paper was a light teal, with purple flowers and butterflies around the edges, with a few pearls as well.
Another time, it might have been so different
The vocals came in. The man's voice was smooth and unique.
She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. A purple streak fell out of place, and she glanced at it from the corner of her eyes. Then looked back at what was supposed to be a letter, but was still a blank page.
Growing up, she had been taught that all letters were supposed to start "dear so-and-so". That was how she had started letters to her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. As a child, writing letters to her friends while she was on vacation, that was how she had always started them without a second thought.
But now she understood what 'dear' meant, and it just didn't fit.
She wished it did. But it didn't.
"Dear" was too affectionate after nearly 5 years of no contact.
What other ways were there to start a letter? "Hi, Jack" felt too casual. This was a letter, not an email. "Hey, Jack," was the same. "To Jack Frost," was far too formal.
Maybe she was overthinking it?
She was probably overthinking it. He always said she worried too much.
Dear Jack
And she was back where she was minutes ago.
I know it's been a long time. A really long time. Maybe you've forgotten me. I hope you haven't. I could never forget you.
She erased the last sentence as soon as it was on the page. She refused to sound pathetic. Not when she was writing to Jack Frost, of all people.
We grew up next door to each other in Burgess – before you moved to California.
Way to tell him something he doesn't already now, she though, erasing that too.
We grew up together in Burgess.
There. Simple, to the point, no necessary exposition, as her English teacher would have said.
It's been so long, I don't even know if the address I have for you is still good. So even if I send this, it may not even reach you. For all I know, you've moved to Russia or something. No, you're a snowboarder. You would go to Austria, or somewhere.
Okay, that part was kind of stupid. But she didn't bother erasing it. She always had been a bit of a dork, and she had gotten to the point where she accepts then she wasn't going to grow out of that, and she couldn't hide it.
She probably wouldn't send the letter anyway. So she should just write it. Get it over with. Move on.
Jack Frost probably didn't even remember her anyway. And why should he?
Because I remember him, she thought sadly.
She rolled her pencil in her fingers, the purple plastic and rubber warm from her body heat.
How are you? Are you still in California? How's Emma? I know Baby still misses her. She stopped asking about you guys eventually when we never had any news. But she still has a picture of the four of us in that frame Emma gave you. You remember, the pink one that says "best friends". It's a picture of when we took them to the fair the summer before you left.
That day was so much fun. Even if they both ate so much sugar they got sick...
Baby always had such a crush on you.
Her pencil came to a stop.
They had ended up taking Baby and Emma home so they could sleep off the sickness brought on by the sugar. But they had gone back to the fairgrounds once they had been sure their sisters were tucked into bed.
Toothiana smiled as she thought back to that evening. Jack had absently taken her hand at one point while he had pointed something out – and her heart had hammered against her chest, every nerve singing at his touch.
The Ferris wheel, just before they had been gone home, had been all blushes and nervous laughter.
They had known they was leaving in a matter of days. And she had almost told him that Baby wasn't the only one of the Hypunjam sisters with a crush on him. But she hadn't been able to form the words.
She had always regretted that.
Once more she looked at the letter, licking her lips. On the outer edges were the last remains of the lip gloss she had applied hours ago – she hadn't yet had a chance to clean off her makeup.
She didn't want to regret any more.
I can't believe she's almost in high school. Emma was a freshman this year, right?
The truth is, I always had a crush on you, too. Maybe you knew – Aster and Sandy used to tease me about it constantly. I was so afraid they were going to tell you, or even just let it slip. Now I kind of wish they had.
I almost told you on the Farris wheel. I should have.
But maybe that would have made everything worse. I knew you wouldn't feel the way I did – and I was happy just to be your friend. That's why I didn't tell you. Because I didn't want to lose my best friend.
But I lost you anyway, didn't I? What difference would it have made if I told you? We would have lost contact a few months earlier?
I'm at Burgess University now. And yes, I am studying dentistry. Well, for now it's my pre-med degree. And no, my name did not help me during the admissions process. I don't think they took my application seriously at first. But who would blame them?
I was nervous about living in the dorms, but my roommate is great. Easy to get along with, most of them time. The thing is, she listens to a lot of 80's rock music. (I now know all the words to that song from The Breakfast Club.)
Normally she listens on her headphones. But they died, so she's playing her music on her laptop. I don't mind. The thing is, tonight she's listening to a song called Fading Lights. It's not really my kind of song, but the first line is "another time, it might have been so different", and it made me think of you.
I just started wondering what happened. When you moved, we all promised we would stay in touch. That we would write, and call. We promised we would always be friends, no matter how far apart we were.
How did we fall apart?
Aster went back to Australia for school, and we still keep up with him. Is it because we were so young when you left? I'm only twenty-one now, but I'm old enough to know that sixteen is young.
I wish we hadn't lost touch.
I guess what I'm trying to say – the whole reason I'm writing this letter – is that I miss you, Jack. Even after all these years. You were my best friend, and I wish you were still a part of my life.
It felt like a strange, unresolved way to end the letter – as if there was more that needed to be said. But she didn't know what.
She had already admitted to her crush – more than she had ever dared say when he was in front of her.
Besides, her writing had already filled the front and back of several sheets of small, stationary paper. Absently she traced one of the butterflies in the top right corner.
What else was there to say?
Come back?
But she could bring herself to write that. She wasn't brave enough. She didn't know why, since he probably wouldn't even read the letter, anyway.
Instead, she went to sign the letter. But here, she hesitated again.
She couldn't write "love, Toothiana". Not after she had confessed her crush – that would feel too much as though she was only writing because she was some love sick girl! Though she had written about her feeling in the past tense, she knew part of her still loved him as more than a friend.
But she was writing as a friend.
"Sincerely" would be too formal.
What else was there?
Finally, exhausted, and deciding she probably wouldn't send the letter anyway, she just wrote:
Love, Toothiana
Pulling out an envelope, she wrote out the address he had given her when he moved away. Even as she wrote it out, she argued with herself that he probably didn't leave there anymore.
Even if he didn't, maybe his parents did.
But she shook that thought away.
She would sleep on it for tonight, she decided as she added her own address on the top left corner. But even if she sent it, she was sure it wouldn't reach him.
If she sent it, it would just be so she could move. On. Just to send those emotions into the sky and let them go before they made her explode.
And if he did get it...
She decided not to think about that as she set a stamp in the corner.
(Two Weeks Later)
Toothiana adjusted her backpack as she stepped out of her last class for the day, freeing the few strands of her hair that had gotten caught between her shoulders and the thick straps.
The last vestiges of summer heat were being blown away by the same wind that was bringing in yet another early winter. It shouldn't even be called early anymore, because this was when winter always arrived in Burgess.
It was why it was such a popular destination for skiers and snowboarders, because the lodge and the mountain opened before nearly any other in the states. The runs were great, too.
Toothiana took a deep breath of the cool air, inhaling the scent of the fresh cut grass from the lawn that made up most of the school's courtyard, as well as the other random scents of the campus. The spicy perfume of the girl walking past her.
And, of course, the strong smell of coffee from the nearby Starbucks stand set up in the courtyard for the convenience of the coffee addicted student body.
Tooth liked the smell well enough. But she shuddered at the thought of teeth stained by coffee. And not to mention all the sugar! Milk alone had enough sugar to make a latte dangerous.
Patrick, the barista, nodded as she walked by. He was a member of the work-study program, and he was in a couple of her classes.
She waved and smiled, but wasn't planning to slow down. Her classes were over for the day, and she was looking forward to getting back to her dorm room. Her only plan for the evening was to curl up with a movie on her laptop and a warm plate of curry.
But before she could get more than a few steps, Patrick called after her.
"Oh, hey, Tooth!"
She looked back over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
"There was some guy looking for you earlier," he said, glancing up from the milk he was steaming. "I don't think he was a student – I didn't recognize him."
Toothiana cocked her head to the side, but there was no more information forth coming.
She started back across the lawn, a few dead leaves crunching under her feet. Why on Earth would someone be looking for her?
"Tooth!"
The call was so loud that, for a moment, the entire courtyard fell almost silent in surprise. Heads turned this way and that, searching either for Tooth or whoever had called her. But none of them were as surprised as Toothiana herself – though she had just been told someone was looking for her.
A few people were looking directly at her. From nearby she heard a wolf whistle.
Her cheeks burned at all the attention as she looked back over her shoulder to see who wanted her attention so badly.
Her eyes darted around a little before she saw the figure running toward her across the lawn.
She had just enough time to turn and make out a slender figure, white hair and a blue hoodie over faded jeans, before he came to a stop in front of her.
As Toothiana looked up into the familiar, laughing blue eyes (had he always been so tall?), her jaw slackened.
"J-Jack?" She wasn't sure her voice was even loud enough to be heard beyond her lips.
From the pocket of his hoodie, Jack Frost pulled out a teal envelope with purple butterflies and flowers at one end. Her handwriting was on the front, in the form of their addresses.
Her letter.
The one she had been so sure he wouldn't get.
And even if he got it, she had never imagined he would bring him here, in front of her.
She must be dreaming. What other explanation was there for why he stood on the lawn of Burgess University. These things only happened in books and movies. Right?
For a moment, all she could do was stare at him, then the letter, then back at him. His white hair was a messy as she remembered, the ends just above his bright blue eyes.
Had he always been so... gorgeous? Se remember him being unbearable cute, but now she couldn't think of a word for what she was. Only that she very much liked the view.
Her mind told her to say something – anything – but, for the life of her, she couldn't think of what.
Jack Frost was standing in front of her.
After another moment he averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. And the gesture was so familiar Toothiana felt herself start to relax, even if only a little.
"I'm really bad at this," he said, with a sheepish laugh. "I just flew across the continent to see you – not to mention snuck past the school security – and I have no idea what to say."
"Me either," Toothiana admitted.
Their eyes met again, and they laughed. It was enough to free her from whatever had held her in place since she had seen him running across the lawn.
Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him with five years of pent up affection.
She felt him stumble under the combined weight of her and her backpack (premed text books were not light), but he still caught her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, returning the hug as best he could around the book bag. "I never meant to lose touch."
Toothiana pulled back to look at him.
"Are you really here?" she asked. "I mean– How–" she wasn't even sure where she was supposed to start.
Jack laughed. "I got your letter last week. Mom – being the incurable romantic that she is – bought my ticket and shoved me on a plane. Not that I'm complaining! I tried to write a reply, but I couldn't... there was too much to say, and I couldn't find the words. I- I missed you."
"I'm glad," she said, reaching out to touch his forearm. "I- I'm glad you're here."
"Me to," he said quietly.
"But how are you?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence. "I mean, besides the roommate with the 80's rock, and everything?"
"She has headphones now," Toothiana said with a laugh. "Probably a good thing. If I had to listen to Fading Lights one more time, the regret might have driven me crazy."
"My dad has that CD," Jack said quietly. "I know what you mean."
He hesitated a moment, biting his lower lip briefly.
Toothiana started to ask what was wrong. But before the words could make it to her lips, something else did.
Her eyes widened as she realized that Jack had kissed her. Soft and gentle, with a trepidation she saw in his face when he pulled back. Her heart was in danger of melting... or shattering her ribs.
"I tried to tell you before I left," he said. "To be honest, I thought I got over it. Bit when I got your letter, I knew I still loved you."
He stepped back. "Gah. That was a stupid way to tell you. I mean, you probably don't-"
"Jack?"
His sudden nervousness seemed to give her courage.
"Yeah?"
"Just kiss me again."
Jack grinned and nodded as he stepped closer. A cool hand pressed against the side of her neck. His thumb caressed her jaw as he leaned in slowly.
Toothiana had dreamed that Jack Frost would be her first kiss. But she never imagined her first kiss would be in the middle of Burgess University lawn, with her backpack on.
But when she looked back, she decided it was perfect.
Gah. Not even 3,000 words! I wish it was longer. And that it tugged at the heart strings, like some stories I read... but apparently I don't have that kind of skill.
Well, let me know what you guys think, okay? Hopefully I do another (better) Rainbow Snowcone one shot soon.