Darian
I had to have been sitting on that couch all night long because the next thing I knew, the sky outside was steadily growing lighter, but there was no sign of the sun through the grey clouds just yet. At some point in the night, it had completely stopped snowing, but I couldn't recall exactly when that had happened. Perhaps I had actually drifted off to sleep once or twice, or maybe I had just gotten too lost in thought to remember. Everything after my "conversation" with the Man in the Moon all blended into a tired blur.
At the very least, I had not experienced many Nightmares, nor had the bogeyman decided to show his face. Maybe I had gotten lucky, for once in my currently miserable life. Maybe he didn't know, and maybe I could ride this whole mess out safely and maybe get on with my life as soon as possible.
That was a lot of maybe's.
Before too long, I was being bothered by the cat, who figured that dawn was an appropriate time to demand service of its human slaves. It leapt onto the end of the couch and meowed loudly, but for what, I couldn't tell. I groaned and stretched, wincing at the ache in my muscles after sitting in the same position for so long. The cat only grew more impatient and howled again. "Alright, already! I'm up!" I retorted, finally getting to my feet. Seemingly satisfied, it hopped off the couch and ran off.
I decided to go ahead and get ready for the day, despite the fact that I had no plans whatsoever. I found a cozy sweater and some leggings and laid them out at the foot of my bed before starting a nice shower. It was just what I needed, something to help me unwind and sort through all of my tumultuous thoughts and feelings from yesterday.
Needless to say, the shower took much longer than usual.
Feelings were like children, in a way, or so I figured. They were messy things, never wanting to do what they're told and always running off like mad the second you turn your attention away from them. It was very difficult to shove them back in their rightful place, which at this moment, was a tiny box in the back corner of my mind where I kept all the dark, unruly things. They refused to go quietly.
Fear pretty much refused to go into the box at all, so I gave up on it. Besides, I couldn't help that I was scared. It was only normal to be scared in this situation, caught in a deadly choice between two types of endless torture, a rock and a hard place. Then, of course, there was the way I felt about Jack. Right now, I was angry at him for sure, but there was also something else. There was always something else.
No, it was nothing. Into the box it went.
When I at last emerged from the shower, and everything was sorted into some semblance of order, all that was left was exhaustion. Wrapped in only my towel, I flopped face-first onto my bed and didn't move for a very long time. I was so, so tired. I laid there for so long that I eventually heard my parents wake up and start fixing breakfast, and I figured that I might as well finish getting dressed. I slipped into my warm sweater and brushed my teeth and still-wet hair, tying the latter into a loose bun at the base of my neck to keep it from soaking my back until it dried. I didn't put on any makeup, though. It seemed frivolous since I had no plans whatsoever of heading out.
My mom smiled at me when I came down, unaware of the fact that I had been up all night. My dad had settled into the recliner and had turned on Sports Center. The fireplace was lit, and the cat was finally content in curling up on the rug in front of it. I took a seat on the couch, and after a moment or two, my mother came in, handing both me and my dad a plate of eggs and bacon before sitting next to me, and we all sat in front of the television in comfortable silence, even though I personally had no idea what the reporters were talking about. The scene was so tranquil, so normal that I nearly forgot anything troubling me, "nearly" being the operative word.
The scene didn't last forever. Before too long, there was a knock on the door, and since I was already up to put away my plate, I went to answer it. As I opened the door, Miranda burst into the house, wrapping me in a hug and yelling, "Surprise!" She released me after a moment, but before I could ask why she was here, she continued talking, walking down the hall as she did and shedding her scarf, hat, and heavy coat. "Have you seen how much snow is out there? It's amazing! Had a heck of a time convincin' my mom to let me out of the house, though. Kept goin' on about the roads bein' frozen and all. They weren't actually that bad, not that you would know from the way she was bi – oh, hey Mr. and Mrs. Bennett!"
"Good morning, Miranda," my mom greeted sweetly, unfazed by Miranda's sudden appearance. I, on the other hand, was still somewhat in shock.
"Not that I don't appreciate the visit or anything, but what are you doing here?" I asked as she haphazardly tossed her winter wear at the base of the stairs, completely at home in our house after years of dropping by.
"There was no way I was gonna miss out on your birthday because of a snowstorm, of all things!" she exclaimed.
"My birthday's not until tomorrow," I reminded her, but she only shrugged. It took me a second to catch on. "Are you spending the night?"
"Duh."
It wasn't like she hadn't done this before. Miranda tended to be a bit spontaneous and often forgetful of trivial things like calling ahead. Over the years, my family had become accustomed to her randomly staying over, occasionally for days at a time, only because she felt like it, and we usually enjoyed her company.
Besides, she technically did tell me that she was coming over yesterday.
This time, though, I was absolutely horrified as all of the "what-ifs" ran through my brain. What if Jack flew by, and I had to explain why I was talking to air? What if Pitch found out that I had spoken to Jack and came to exact revenge? What if he went after Miranda, as well? It occurred to me that it wasn't safe for anyone to be around me right then. I was nothing more than a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second.
I must have blanked out there for a second because Miranda began waving her hand in front of my face. "Earth to Darian!" she called. "Did I come at a bad time?"
"No!" I said too quickly, but it wasn't like I could tell her that the bogeyman was out to get me. Miranda was suspicious of my response, but she let it slide.
"Alright. Just give me a minute to warm up, and then, I'll go grab my things. Hey! You should come out with me, and we can mess around in the snow while it's fresh!" Miranda gave a big grin and stared down at me expectantly, but unlike before, I didn't answer right away.
After a moment of hesitation, I replied, "I'm not sure I want to go outside." Miranda's jaw dropped in shock, and I quickly tried to cover it up. "I mean, I kind of felt like staying inside today."
Miranda continued to gape at me. "But it's snow, Darian! What could be more perfect on your birthday than snow? I thought you loved the snow!"
"I do, but - !"
"Don't you wanna build a snow - ?"
"No! I mean, I'm just tired. That's all." I looked down at my feet at the half-truth. Not surprisingly, Miranda caught on.
"Isn't that a constant state of being for you?" she asked.
I chuckled and shrugged. "It would seem so."
She laughed with me, and after our giggles settled, she thought for a moment before asking, "Well, what do you wanna do?" I made a face, not knowing what to say. On any normal day, I would love nothing more than to enjoy the rare snowfall, but that was not going to happen as long as…well, it wasn't ever going to happen, now. I wasn't quite sure what else I could do.
"Netflix binge?" I suggested after a moment. I didn't have a Netflix account, but I knew that Miranda did. She had tried countless times to drag me down into the "Superwholock" fandom with her. At the very least, I found Sherlock enjoyable.
"Sounds good to me!" she said before challenging me to a race up the stairs, and that was how we started watching and singing along to a Disney movie marathon while laying across my bed that lasted until late afternoon. We were well into Hercules when I noticed that Miranda had completely lost interest in Megara singing "I Won't Say I'm In Love" and was staring longingly out the window, casting pointed glances at me every once in a while and heaving dramatic sighs.
I paused the movie and rolled over so that I could face her properly. "Is there something that you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Miranda?" I inquired.
Miranda sat up and gave me a pleading look. "There's still a lot of snow out there," she whined.
"Of course there is," I said, matter-of-factly. "It's been below freezing for most of the day."
"Oh, c'mon Darian! Can't we please go outside?" she begged, rocking back and forth in a way that shook the entire mattress.
I sheepishly looked away from her, finding a spot on the carpet to stare at, instead. "I'd really rather not."
"Why not?"
I opened my mouth before realizing that I couldn't give her a straight answer, and I closed it almost immediately. I felt my face grow hot in shame, so I turned away from her in a feeble attempt to hide it, sitting up straight at the edge of the bed with my back facing her and my feet dangling just above the floor.
A moment passed before Miranda spoke again. "Okay, I still need to grab my stuff, and if you don't come outside with me, I'm goin' to sit here and sing Frozen songs until you finally do." I could almost feel her teasing stare boring through my back, and I could easily envision her trademark mischievous smile in my mind's eye.
Strangely enough, it reminded me of Jack. He and Miranda would be good friends.
No. Wrong. Stop. I shouldn't tempt fate like that, but Miranda was already breaking out into a verse of "Do You Wanna Build A Snowman," and I wasn't sure if I could stand listening to that for the next hour or so. Miranda certainly had the lung capacity to keep going that long.
Maybe just a few minutes wouldn't hurt.
"Fine! I'll go!" I finally relented. Miranda threw her hands up and her head back and cheered, only for her to lose her balance and almost roll right of the side of the bed. Despite the gravity of my current situation, I had to stifle a laugh as I stood and stretched after being immobile for several hours. I searched around for my red coat before remembering that I had left it downstairs on the couch during my run-in with Jack just the day before.
Remembering that disaster caused me to hesitate again, for surely, he was waiting for me just outside, waiting for me to make some sort of decision. My heart skipped a beat in fear, and my lungs refused to work correctly for a couple of seconds, but I tried to force myself past the sudden panic attack so as not to alert Miranda. I made myself move at a steady, if not slow, pace as I grabbed my scarf, hat, gloves, and boots before heading downstairs, Miranda hopping about impatiently behind me.
My mom had retired to her bedroom while my dad had moved to the couch and was using the day off from work to catch up on shows on the DVR that my mom didn't necessarily enjoy. He happened to be sitting on top of my coat, and we spent several minutes bickering playfully over whether or not he would shift and let me have it. After all, I had neglected to return it to its proper place, choosing instead to leave it on the couch where it would no doubt be sat upon. Eventually (and unfortunately, in my case), I won out, though my dad still made me work for it, only scooting over slightly so that I had to pull as hard as I could to yank it free, and while I was at it, he had me carry my backpack all the way back upstairs so that it wasn't cluttering the family room.
After trudging back up and down the stairs, I joined Miranda in pulling on our winter wear. She was done in what seemed like a matter of seconds, and even though I had gotten my boots, hat, and gloves on rather quickly, I began fumbling with the buttons on my coat, which was how I realized that despite the warmth of my extra layers, I was shaking an awful lot. Thankfully, Miranda was too impatient to notice, and she took me by the elbow as soon as I finished with the final button, leaving me very little time to grab my scarf before I was dragged out the front door.
I managed to shake myself loose on the porch so that I could turn and close the door behind me, and when I looked back at Miranda, I saw that she had already slipped on a patch of ice on the driveway and had fallen flat on her back, but she was laughing all the same. I chuckled along with her and desperately wanted to run off and join in her fun.
Several seconds passed, but I didn't move. I couldn't move.
Miranda was busy trying to stumble to her feet after her fall, so she didn't notice the blatant look of fear on my face as I gazed out at the endless stretch of snow-covered everything in front of me, a picture straight out of a storybook. I was terrified to step into the picture, though, terrified to even touch the harmless white powder, as if it were really a secret poison. I swallowed hard as I forced myself down the porch steps, but I hesitated again before stepping out into the yard. I stared at the toes of my boots for the longest time, daring them to move, but I was so frozen in fear that I even neglected to breathe, a fact which was suddenly remembered when a snowball crashed into my face, and I found myself gasping for air.
"Come on!" Miranda insisted, already prepping another snowball for an attack. I dodged her next hit and forced a laugh to cover up my strange behavior before launching myself into the yard and running after her, hastily packing a snowball to toss at her, which hit her squarely in the back, a fact I was proud of.
We ran around to the back of the house, where a section of my yard dropped off in a small hill. Miranda snatched the lid from the top of our trashcan and used it as a makeshift sled. (Since it rarely snowed where we lived, we didn't own any actual sleds.) As she sped off down the slope to the backyard, I grabbed the top of the recycling bin and chased after her. I took the exact same path as her but ended up going faster since she had flattened over this section of snow in her descent, so we collided at the bottom, collapsing into a tangle of limbs, lids, and laughter. I shook the snow from my hair, which was steadily falling loose from its bun, only to roll over and lay back down in it again to make a snow angel, my earlier worries almost completely forgotten. That was what was so special about Miranda: she made even the worst things seem like nothing.
Miranda joined me in making snow angels, and we did that for a few minutes without talking, but of course, that didn't last. Once that task became too boring for her, Miranda rolled over to face me, saying, "Hey, Darian?"
"What?"
"Do you wanna build a – " she began to sing.
"Oh, shut up!" I squealed, sitting up and throwing a handful of snow in her face.
She shook it off and sat up, as well, laughing until she couldn't breathe. "I'm serious, though," she said after catching her breath. "There's plenty of snow around."
I shrugged because as long as we were out here, I might as well enjoy myself while it lasted. I could lock myself in my room and wallow in fear and self-loathing later, when Miranda was gone and safe and unable to question my actions.
We hauled ourselves to our feet, trampling our poor snow angels in the process, and got straight to work on the bottom of the snowman, rolling it around one section of the yard until it had grown as tall as our knees and the area around it had been stripped almost entirely of snow, leaving what amounted to a giant mud puddle. Because of this, we had to move further down the yard to start on the middle, which was incredibly heavy, despite being smaller than the last, and it required both of us to lift it onto the base. It teetered awkwardly on the uneven surface, so I held onto it while Miranda ran off to grab more snow to pack around it and make it more stable. Once that was finished, we both stepped back and sat in the clean snow at the edge of our mud puddle, both of us breathing heavily.
"One more to go," Miranda huffed.
"I can handle the head if you want to go find some sticks and a carrot," I told her. "I mean, you've been in our refrigerator enough times to know where one probably is."
"Are you sure you can handle it out here by yourself?" she teased, punching me lightly on the shoulder. "That last one weighed a ton."
"I'll be fine," I insisted, though it was a complete and total lie. I had spoken without thinking, and only now did I realize that staying outside in the snow where he was likely to show up as soon as I was alone was actually a terrible idea, but it was too late to go back on it.
"Alright-y then!" Miranda chirped as she stood and brushed herself off before heading back up the hill, slipping and stumbling every once in a while. I sighed, knowing that she was going to be a while, and stood, as well.
I headed over to the other side of the house, where there was a fresh expanse of untouched snow. I set to work, getting down on my knees to start rolling the head, my nerves on edge. The wind blew sharply, snapping a twig off a frozen tree, and I jumped and looked around wildly. This happened several times in the first couple of seconds before I was finally able to calm down slightly and work. For a minute or so, everything was quiet, and I was almost at peace, falling into a feeling of false hope that Jack might never show up.
I stood, cradling the finished snowball in my hands, and I felt the wind pick up again, sending shivers up and down my spine. Behind me, a familiar voice spoke, and despite the fact that I had been expecting him, I still jumped at the sound and dropped the snowman's head. "Look who finally decided to come outside!" Jack remarked.
"Jack," I said simply, staring sadly at the dashed remains of the snowball on my boots. Slowly, I turned around to face him. "You sound surprised that I did."
"Well, I just figured it would take longer than a day. You're frustratingly stubborn, you know?" He flashed me a charming smile, even though I sensed that he was still upset with me.
"Believe me, this wasn't my choice," I assured him.
"Whatever that means," he said with a shrug. We were quiet for a while after, neither of us knowing what exactly to say. Jack rocked on his heels awkwardly before finally breaking the silence. "So, are we going to talk about what happened, or –"
"I'm not sure now's the best time," I told him, lowering my voice as I realized that Miranda might walk back outside at any second. I ran past Jack to peer around the side of the house, and thankfully, she was nowhere in sight.
I didn't realize that Jack had followed me until I heard his voice whispering directly in my ear. "What are we looking at?" he asked.
I frowned in annoyance and turned around to face him, only to find myself pressed against the brick wall of the house when I realized how close he was standing. I felt a blush crawl its way onto my cheeks as a cleared my throat and motioned for him to step back just a tad. "Right. Personal space," he recalled, rolling his eyes before drifting back a little.
"My friend Miranda is over. She's in the house right now, but she could come out at any second," I explained.
"When is she leaving?" Jack asked.
"She's staying the night."
"What are we going to do?"
"We?" I repeated.
"Yeah, we. I have to tell Jamie something, after all, and I hate lying to the kid, not to mention he would know about it right away, and you're an even worse liar than I am! We have to at least talk or take a selfie or something. You don't have to like it. You could even be throwing pillows at me the entire time, but the week's almost over, and I know you're going to want to get back to your stupid, normal life without looking insane in front of your friend, so what are we going to do?"
"I don't know!" I snapped, covering my face and plopping down in the snow. This was all too much to think about right then.
"Darian!" I heard Miranda's voice call from the other side of the house. "Darian, your mom said you were out of carrots, but I found a celery stick, if that helps!" She must have been coming down the hill.
"Shoot!" I exclaimed. "What are we going to do?"
Jack's eyes widened in mock surprise, and he gestured to himself. "Oh, so now you're asking me?" he teased, and I wanted to slap the following smirk off of his face.
"Darian?" Miranda called again. She had probably just reached the empty backyard and was wondering where I was.
"Yes!" I hissed through my teeth.
"If we can't talk in front of her because she can't see me, why don't we just make her believe?" Jack suggested.
"How the heck are we going to do that?" The better question would have been why I was suddenly accepting Jack's idea, but I was pressed for time and running out of options.
"Darian, where did you go?" I heard Miranda's footsteps come closer to where I was hiding.
"I don't know!" Jack said, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Just go talk to her. I'll think of something."
I huffed in frustration and tried stumbling to my feet, only to have them slip out from under me on a slick patch created from the melting icicles above me. Jack caught my hand, though, preventing me from hitting the ground, and he helped pull me back up. I knew he must be smiling, but I found myself unable to look at him, choosing instead to bury my face in my scarf to hide my blush. Thankfully, the moment didn't last. It ended rather abruptly as he roughly grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face Miranda, who had just rounded the corner.
"There you are!" she exclaimed. She looked me up and down and furrowed her brow in confusion. "Where's the head?"
"I, uh, dropped it," I managed to gasp out, surprised that I was able to say anything after what had just happened. With all the excitement that afternoon, my heart was hammering so heavy against my ribs that breathing had become somewhat difficult.
I felt something try to escape the box, and I had to shove it back in with all of my might.
"Dang it!" she grumbled before shrugging it off. "Oh, well. I guess we'll just have a snow-dwarf. Come on! Let's go find some arms!" She began walking away cheerfully, swinging the celery stick back and forth. I followed her a few paces before suddenly stopping in my tracks, trying to figure out what I was going to say. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Jack still standing behind me, motioning for me to say something. He was exaggerating everything in such a way that I actually almost laughed, and I had to look away before I did.
Get back into the box!
"Hey, Miranda?" I began hesitantly.
"Hmm?" Miranda spun on her heel to face me, frowning when she saw how far ahead of me she was.
"I, um…I'm going to tell you something, and it's going to sound insane, but you have to believe it. If you could do that, it would make this so much easier," I stammered.
Miranda folded her arms across her chest, the stalk of celery she held sticking out awkwardly. "What's goin' on?"
"Do you remember when I was in Burgess, and I told you about a guy?"
"Yeah. His name was Jack, right?"
I nodded. From behind me, I heard a stunned Jack murmur, "You talked about me?" He sounded genuinely flattered, maybe even touched. I could only hope that he didn't take that fact too much to heart, or else it was going to be impossible to get rid of him later. Heck, it was impossible now.
"What about him?" she inquired.
"Well, he's kind of…here. As in, right now," I tried to explain.
"In Georgia?" I nodded again. "Is he stalkin' you or something?"
Something about that comment struck me as funny, and I couldn't contain a small fit of laughter. Behind me, I could hear Jack begin to snicker. "In a way," I replied vaguely.
"Hey!" Jack shouted from behind me. I ignored that.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Miranda asked.
"Well, here's that part that sounds crazy: I didn't tell you his full name."
"Yeah, you did," she insisted. "You said that it was Jackson Overland, but he liked to be called Jack. Why is that so crazy?"
"It's crazy because his full name is actually Jackson Overland Frost." I paused and waited a moment for the gears to turn in Miranda's head.
When the name finally clicked, she raised an eyebrow at me skeptically. "Jack Frost?" she said, deadpan. "Seriously, his name is Jack Frost? I'm not sure I understand what you're gettin' at here."
"Jack Frost, as in the Jack Frost," I tried to tell her.
"I get that. Chestnuts roastin' and all that jazz. I'm just trying to understand what that has to do with anything."
"Jack is Jack Frost. He's real. He's the one who brought all of this snow. He's standing right behind me right now." I watched her face as I explained this and groaned as I saw that she was only getting more and more lost.
Trying to humor me, Miranda wondered, "Why can't I see him, then?"
"Magic?" I answered hesitantly. "It's weird. He can only be seen if you believe in him." Miranda didn't say anything, which was a rare event. "You don't believe me," I concluded.
"I agree with the 'crazy' part, at least, but the 'magic' part is a bit of a stretch. Darian, there's no one there."
I looked back over my shoulder at Jack, who was leaning against his staff in dismay. I wanted to scream at him to do something, anything, but that ran the risk of making me look even more insane.
"Oh, well. I tried," I sighed, looking back at Miranda. I couldn't think of anything else to say to make her believe.
Miranda gave a nervous chuckle. "You were joking, right? I mean, none of that was – hey!" She was cut off as a snowball hit her squarely in the face.
As she wiped the snow from her face, I whirled back around to Jack. "What are you doing?" I hissed. Jack only smiled and shrugged.
"Darian, what was that for?" Miranda asked as I looked at her again.
"I didn't – " I began, but another snowball sailed over my head to hit Miranda in the face again.
"Quit it!" she squealed, spitting out snow.
"I'm not doing anything!" I insisted.
"Then, who did?"
Before I could answer, an entire round of snowballs flew past, all aimed at Miranda. She tried to run, but most of them hit her, anyway. When that was over, she spun back around, her eyes wide. "What the actual f- "
"I told you! It's not me!" I interrupted.
"I get that, now! I was looking right at you! Those came out of nowhere!" she shouted in disbelief. Another snowball flew over my shoulder and knocked off Miranda's hat, and I couldn't help but laugh at how baffled she was.
"Okay, Jack. I think she's had enough," I chuckled, turning around only to get a snowball right in my face. I heard his laughter as I wiped the snow from my eyes. "Very funny."
"I know, right?" he laughed, throwing another snowball at me. This time, I managed to throw up my arm to block it.
"Seriously?" I snapped.
"Free-for-all!" Jack cried. He ran his staff along the snow at his feet, instantly forming an arsenal of snowballs.
I squeaked and began running the other direction, grabbing a very confused Miranda as I went. "Get down!" I instructed as the snowballs began raining down upon us. We dove down into the snow and covered our heads before beginning to slowly crawl behind our tiny snowman for some meager shelter.
We were both breathing heavily from running, and my hair had completely shaken loose. After a few moments, the attack stopped. "Okay, fine. You win. Snowballs comin' out of thin air would definitely qualify as magic," Miranda choked out.
"Welcome to my world," I told her, except it wasn't my world. My world was supposed to be normal, not full of Immortals. I was supposed to go to school and make good grades, not lose a snowball fight to the Spirit of Winter. Even though I tried to remind myself of all of this, it didn't seem to make any difference. When had all of this abnormality become my world? "So, you really believe?"
"I believe!" she said hastily. "I believe in Jack Frost."
"Great. We should let him know that, and maybe he'll stop." I took advantage of the ceasefire to peer around the edge of the snowman, only to be greeted with an empty yard. Miranda looked out, as well.
"I still don't see anything," Miranda whined.
"That's because he's not there," I told her. We helped each other up before scanning the yard, only for a rush of wind to blow suddenly at our backs, carrying with it two snowballs that hit us both in the head.
"Boo!" Jack yelled.
Miranda whirled around and actually screamed in surprise when she first saw him, backing up only to trip over our little snowman and fall flat on her back.
"Jeezum Crow! Are you okay?" I asked while Jack only collapsed into a fit of laughter behind me.
"I'm fine," she said dizzily but made no move to get up. "Just give me a minute."
Jack came up beside me and looked down on her, still laughing so hard that he needed the support of his staff. "Miranda," I said, "I'd like to introduce you to Jack Frost."
(Yay for this chapter getting up on schedule! I love throwing Miranda into a chapter. It gives me a break from writing all of the angst. She was a character in the previous story, but I'm interested to hear what you think of her now that she's going to be appearing a little more often. Remember to favorite, follow, and review this story, and don't forget to tune in to next week's chapter of Frozen Family 2!)