Hello again! Sorry I haven't updated sooner... Boston is my hometown, and I literally spent the last week watching the news and sobbing. But, this story is worth it... Please tell me what you think! :)

To be perfectly honest with you, Jack didn't think Elizabeth had the guts to play by his rules.

She was the town's spoiled-rotten bookworm.

His friends would joke and say her only purpose in life was to snare a wealthy husband.

Jack wasn't thinking of marriage.

He was only fourteen, dammit! He didn't see what his mates saw in girls. And he didn't understand why those girls giggled when he walked past. Was there something in his teeth?

The forest was his only refuge. Sure, his parents never bothered him about this girl nonsense, but there was Emily. Of course, he adored his sister, but she was six years old. It was very easy to have an overdose of her adorable enthusiasm.

The woods were his special place. It was calm and quiet and the perfect place to plot his next trick. Jack let his mind wander.

What would he get Emily for her birthday? He couldn't afford anything. He wasn't wealthy. Maybe he could make her another doll. Yes, she'd like that. Her old one is –

Then he heard it. He heard her.

A shriek pierced Jack's silence. He ran towards the noise. You only scream like that when you need help.

He stopped short when he saw who it was.

The most awful, spoiled, arrogant girl in all of Burgess was sitting in front of his climbing tree, shrieking her head off at nothing.

Jack scoffed. Like she had anything to worry about. She always had enough to eat. She never wanted for anything. It just wasn't fair.

Her bonnet was carelessly hurled into the tree next to Jack. He gaped. His mother would have loved a bonnet like that. How could Elizabeth just toss it to the side like it was nothing? Then again, it probably was nothing to her.

The wealthy were so ungrateful.

He slowly slipped into the shadows of his old oak and began to climb. He would just wait Elizabeth out. After all, how long could a girl like her manage to tolerate getting grass stains on her frocks? Jack scoffed again. She wouldn't last another ten minutes.

Jack was starting to doze off. Elizabeth actually lasted for quite some time, and didn't even leap about and scream when she saw a beetle over her dress. He could respect that.

His branch was so comfortable. It was like a swing. Or a cloud. Or a –

Thud.

Jack had slipped.

Thwack.

Thunk.

Crack.

This was not his finest hour. He fell out of the tree's comforting embrace right into the lap of an irate Elizabeth. Oh, curse his luck.

So he tried to do what seemed to work on all of the village girls; he tried to charm his way out of the mess he'd created.

And he'd gotten himself stuck teaching Elizabeth the fine art of having fun.

Fantastic.

He'd expected her to lash out. To decline.

But she didn't.

This would be interesting.