Teenage Dirtbag
...
The DunBroch estate in America, when they first moved here, wasn't that all big ― well, to compare to their estate back in Scotland, it wasn't. But it got a nice, wide landscape as their yard where Hamish, Hubert and Harris always build up their science experiments (or an excuse to kill themselves) and for her to ride Angus and shoot an arrow.
But oddly, when she stepped down the steps to go to her favourite place in the whole DunBroch estate, she didn't feel like riding Angus, or grabbing her arrows. Instead, she felt like, well ― running.
Merida grabbed a worn t-shirt from her wardrobe and a yoga pants stored at the back of drawers ― her mother only arranged it there, so she wouldn't even see it to consider wearing it, and she didn't, not until now and ― she should probably start wearing proper attire now that she's on the team. Hm.
Shrugging the t-shirt against her body, Merida swung her door open and began heading down to her yard.
Only to quicken her pace when she heard a yelp of a rough scream pierced through the air, straight from her favourite place on the estate. She walked herself passed the backyard's door, only to see another one of her brothers' science projects left abandoned with no one in sight, and panic rose in her being.
Another voice pierced through the air again and Merida snapped her attention at a certain part where the yard met the forest ― and through squinted eyes, she saw shadows.
She sprinted right through.
And found her brothers toppling over a form, Hamish having the stranger's head between his knees, his hand planted across the stranger's cheek, forcing him against the ground, while Hubert was tangling up the stranger's feet with a rope and Harris was twisting the man's arm. Merida's mouth fell open and her brows pulled together ― what...?
"Please..." The stranger exclaimed, and Merida finally registered the familiar snowy hair.
"Jack!" She came forward, knees dropped next to him. "What― what's happening?"
"I got―attacked?" The young man in question managed, spitting out a few dirts and grass from the corner of his lips.
"Boys." Merida began, now eyeing her brothers. "Get off of him."
They did, simultaneously, one even wearing an amusing grin. Merida immediately helped Jack sat down on the grass and rubbed any grasses stuck to his face, privately checking for any bruises. When she confirmed that he will be okay, Merida passed a glare at her brothers ― seriously, they talked about this ― and pressed her lips together, slightly ashamed, and brought her hands back to her laps, dropping her shoulders. "Are yer okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine. It's not like I just got ambushed by curly, red-headed triplets or anything..." He rubbed the side of his jaw, shrugging.
Merida rolled her eyes inwardly and groaned. "I'm sorry. These are me wee little devils of brothers― Hamish, Hubert and Harris. And I know you can't really see it, but Hamish is the one who has a pimple hidden at his temple."
Hamish turned to her, wide-eyed and frowned ― I do not!
Merida chuckled momentarily and shook her head, "Just get back to yer projects and I'll consider not telling mum you just assault ma friend."
This time it was Hubert who looked at her, his brows pulled together as he chanced a look at Jack ― friend?
Harris munched his lips forward, squinted his eyes at her suspiciously and shook his head ― you don't have friends.
"Just― can yer― go!" Merida told them exasperatedly, beckoning them away and they dropped their shoulders and finally did. Merida watched their figures returning back to their yard, up to their unfinished project, and once again, realised that she was, indeed not alone. She leered her eyes sideways back up to Jack, who seemed to be staring at her, sorta thoughtfully. Narrowing her eyes, she spat, "What?"
"Brothers." He said under his breath. "Who would have thought."
"Yeah, well." Merida shrugged her shoulders and thought of it, just for a second. Sure, nobody actually suspected that she had any siblings considering no one really ever saw her out in the public, and if they did, she'd always somehow alone, or with Hiccup and Rapunzel, and never with a family member. But, she reasoned, that's only because if she had to go out, then she'd have to drive three miles just to get to civilisation and she really didn't understand all that fuss about 'hanging out' for a few hours with friends at the mall, or Starbucks.
She hangs out well enough with Hiccup, who lived a mile deeper into the forest, and technically was her neighbour, and Rapunzel who always made it a priority to visit them whenever she was permitted to come by her strict mother ― but that was only for a limited hour of the day, and Mrs Gothel would always call every frickin' thirty minutes just to check up on her, and later on spending at least ten minutes on the phone for Rapunzel to actually convinced her mother that yes, I'm still with Merida and Hiccup, mother.
Merida finally snapped her attention back at the lean athlete a few feet away from her and blurted out, "Are yer goin' to press charges against me brothers?"
Jack looked at her, wide-eyed at first and then: "What?" He breathed out a chuckle, "Of course not. They're like, what, ten? I'm not going to― press― I'm not going to do that. Have faith in me, Merida. Please." Merida almost scoffed, while he continued, his eyes searching for hers. "And plus, they weren't technically, doing anything wrong, besides from the fact they almost murder me, because well ― I'm actually trespassing."
And then, slowly, it sunk. He was trespassing.
He was in the DunBroch estate, which was three miles away from the nearest 7-Eleven there was and― what was he doing here?
"Are yer stalkin' me?" She regretted the words the instant it came out of her mouth.
"I― uh― I..." Jack finally sighed. "Kinda? I guess? I don't know."
"Yer don't know?"
"I don't know― I mean, I would have called you, if I have your phone number, which I don't, because apparently you're Leonardo DiCaprio and your phone number belongs to the government and every person I asked don't have your phone number although I suspect Hans do, but he refused to give me and told me to 'go home, Frost and read a book' and I wasn't able to track either of your friend― Rapunzel and... Harold, was it? And here I am."
Merida raised both of her brows.
Jack continued, shrugging more. "I get your address from the office and they do have your phone numbers, except it's your parents' phone numbers and though I was desperate, I wasn't that desperate and I know it's kinda wrong, but I've always wanted to run here, you know? I didn't know it was your family's land, of course, but when I did... I don't know. I just― well, I ran."
He looked around, his eyes observing the tall trees which worshipped the sun and he grinned. "Man, you got some real, good scenery here, I could tell you that."
She watched him instead ― taking in all the little lines on his face, the way his eyes changed as amazement showered over it, and his lips grew from a small, hint of what-must-be a smile, into a full-on grin. She sucked a short, gasp of oxygen in before she let her gaze fell into his line of sight, spotted a few hummingbirds passing by, singing a tune. "It's Hiccup."
"What?"
She sighed and tugged on a handful strain of hair. "Hiccup. Harold's just a fancy name to go with a fancy family-line he's in. But he likes to be called Hiccup. And yer right― not a lot of people have me phone number, and I wouldn't want them to. Hans have it, but he's a prick and finds joy in watching yer suffer, so now that yer went through all of that trouble, he probably will sleep better tonight." Merida passed him a blank look, her lips fell into a straight line. "And yer lucky it's me brothers who got yer limbs all tangled up instead of the dogs Dad trained. Yer shouldn't have ran here."
"I was―" Jack looked at the ground, extending his hands behind his back and leaning into it. "I guess I wasn't thinking."
"Wait― yer ran here?" She asked again, only then realising the meaning behind the word.
"Yeah. I did." Jack appeared confused at her question, a small crease deepened in between his brows.
"All the way here?"
"I parked my car at the edge of the forest, and yeah― all the way here."
"It's three miles!" Merida pressed on, surprised. "You ran three miles here."
"I did? I... I didn't notice."
"What?" She whispered, and fell in a deeper confusion. How could someone not noticed if they've run three miles? She would.
Jack chuckled then, an amused grin lighting up his face. "I guess I just got lost in the tracks. Now that you've mentioned it― I'm sorta pretty beat up. Plus, I think your brother did a fantastic job at twisting my arm."
Merida winced at that, "Did me brothers pulled a muscle?"
"Nah. Maybe bruised it. A little bit." He moved his arms in circular motions, hitting his elbows up in the empty air. "Please don't tell anybody a ten-year-old just bruised me."
"They're nine." Merida rolled her eyes, scoffing. "And yer secret is safe with me, Frost ― if it hurts yer reputation so much."
Jack chuckled again, ducking his head lower. "I was just joking."
"You do that a lot," Merida answered back dryly, pulling herself up to stand and stretched. "Yer want to go somewhere?"
"Does that place have fresh water?"
Merida stared at him with one brow raised, actually amused ― because really, a day ago he was just the charming 'Jack Frost' that everyone fussed about to her, and now he's the sweaty, beaten up guy that probably had a bruise on his arm because of her nine-year-old brother and was begging her for water ― she shook her head a second later, shaking the image away, and placed her fingers in her mouth― and whistled. Loudly.
When she knew she caught her brothers' attention, she signalled them the familiar hand sign which usually meant the other wanted water and got a signal back almost immediately ― okay.
"C'mon." Merida beckoned, looking down at him. "Me brothers will show up with the water. Can yer get up?"
"Yeah..." Jack tilted his chin up at her, his expression suggested that he was figuring out her plan. "You're not planning on kidnapping me, are you?"
"I don't know." Merida smirked, and held her arms wide ― just like he did, yesterday. "Why don't yer find out?"
And for whatever reason, he grinned and fell into steps.
"Is that..."
"A treehouse?" Merida laughed, looking at his shocked face. "Ay. First thing me brothers and Dad built when we moved here. I helped in too, but not a lot..." She trailed off and left the reason hanging in the atmosphere ― because her mother wouldn't let her ― and tried to keep a neutral expression, though she suspected she may had winced at the end of her sentences. "It's not that great―"
"Not that great?" Jack immediately scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's a treehouse. An actual treehouse. A house that is on a tree."
Merida hid her widening grin, and came forward to climb the stairs. "Ay. C'mon now then. If yer so excited."
"Excited? Hell yeah. Let's conquer the frickin' thing." Jack exclaimed with a thrill heavy in his tone, and Merida breathed out a chuckle and nearly shake her head because of that. He was almost like a child stuck in a young man's body ― all giddy and a secret wish to just have a good fun. Her thoughts of him were interrupted when she heard him voiced out, "Man, even the stairs looked better at the ones in my home."
Merida snorted, "Now that's a lie."
"Yeah, okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but seriously― look at this! The stairs are actually decent-looking and looked stable, and that must have not been easy to achieve with manual working, unless of course you actually do have extra, professional hands helping around."
"Nope." Merida answered with proudness beaming off of her face. "All me brothers' and father's hard work― all of their energy, blood and sweats poured over this old thing." Her fingers traced the railing, a type of serenity crossed her features as she recalled her family. "Hamish, Hubert and Harris liked to build stuff up, and when they did the treehouse, it's... well, yer could tell they're very dedicated to it."
"I could see," Jack intoned, still observing about as they both finally stepped into the treehouse ― which sometimes appeared more like a place where tourists would go to take a picture from another angle as the concept laid out to be an open-air concept with no walls, but railings surrounding the treehouse. There's a few old books stacked besides the trunk which the treehouse were built around, and a few more of her brothers' abandoned projects lying around.
"Sometimes I came here to read." Merida started, "Or just― get away. But I didn't come here as often as I'd like to."
"You don't?" He went over to the railings and placed his hands over it.
Merida shook her head and slowly followed his lead, "Yer see that hill over there? That's where I always go when I need a place to think."
"You go way up to that hill?"
"Near the peak. Usually with Angus."
"Angus?"
"My stallion. One of the things me mother allowed to bring from Scotland when we moved here."
"A horse. Wow." Jack whistled again, his eyes sparked with amazement. "You're really the definition of 'go big, or go home', aren't you?"
"What?" Merida frowned― though she had lived a considerable amount of years in America, some references of them still caught her off guard.
"Nothing," He chuckled, now turning around so the lower part of his back were leaned against the railings. "I'm impressed."
"You've said that."
"And I'll say it again."
Suddenly, a familiar bird call was heard and Merida looked down, to realise her brothers were at the bottom, tossing two water bottles around. One of them gave her the signal to catch, and the others threw. Pulling on every concentration into her focus, she managed to catch one of the bottles in her hand, while the other went passed by her and hit the floorboard. "Hamish!" She yelped out, "One at a time, will ya'?"
The boys snickered and were quickly gone at the next second.
Merida was picking up the other bottle when she heard Jack asked, coming forward, "Your brothers... do they―" He scratched the back of his neck, appearing uncomfortable. "―well, talk?"
Her expression faltered, just slightly. "Ay, of course they talk. Just not a lot." She pondered on, just for a little bit. "They usually make it up with explodin' things just before dinner."
He breathed out a short, curt chortle at that, and looked away, catching one bottle from her.
She narrowed her eyes up to her, and felt the curiosity eating on her sense. After long last, she asked: "Are yer and Elsa datin'?" She looked over to him, over the leaves and the twigs, and possibly everything ― watched as he stared at her question, and the lines on his face suggested how he was definitely caught off guard. She didn't break her posture and awaited for an answer.
When he finally responded, it wasn't at all satisfying. "Now that's a loaded question."
"It's a question."
"I don't―" He caught himself and tried again. "I don't think we're up to that level of friendship to talk about those things."
"Levels?" Merida frowned again.
"Yeah, you know― like stages of friendship. First, know their names. Second, find common interest. Third... You know, all of those things." That's weird. If that was how someone defined a friendship, then she definitely did not establish a start of a good relationship with Hiccup since she punched the guy the first time she met him. "I mean, I don't know. If it escapes your notice, I'm not really... I guess, have stable friends before."
She re-thought of his sentences. "You? Mr. Popular?"
"I can go around, yeah. But have you seen me with a constant friend― like you had in Rapunzel and the Hiccup guy?" He paused, and stared at her seriously before she realised that yeah, he was right. He was always surrounded by people ― but he never really stuck with one person for too long; always walking the hallways by his own, always seemingly looked as though he's somewhat a private guy beneath all of that easiness and openness.
Jack Frost was suddenly a whole new person.
Merida exhaled and pushed back a handful of her wild hair back, her shoulders was suddenly weighed down with the burden of this sad realisation. She wondered how it was to feel like, knowing everybody knows your name, but not your true story.
"I mean, I don't even know your favourite colour." He suddenly said.
She raised a brow at him ― favourite colour?
He frowned up at her, dropping his shoulders. "What?"
With rough calculation, Merida sighed, and dropped down on the floor, sitting indian-style. She propped her elbow up against her knees and toppled her chin on the base of her palm, looking up at him. "Okay," she started. "Jack Frost, what is yer favourite colour?"
This time, he looked amused, looking down to her. "What?" He asked, "I was just― kidding around, you know."
"Well, I'm not." She shrugged. "What's yer favourite colour."
"Oookay then." He went along, now gradually descending himself to sit across from her. "My favourite colour is..." He squinted his eyes for a second, in a thoughtful manner, a slow hum emitted from the back of his throat as he did so, when he finally straightened his pose seven seconds later and said: "You know what, I don't have a favourite a colour."
"What?"
"Yeah. I mean, why does someone have a favourite colour? Every colour's amazing on its own. I don't need to pick one."
"But― okay― what about yer most likeable colour? Yer must have one you prefer than most."
"I don't. I'm cool with all types of hues."
"What about blue? You're constantly wearin' that."
"What― no, I don't."
"Of course ya do. Yer wearin' blue now!"
"It's just a coincidence."
"Yer like blue."
"It doesn't mean anything. I can like every colour in the whole world. They're all beautiful." He pressed on, looking smug. "What about you? With all these arguing, you must have a favourite colour. Wait, let me guess― red?"
Merida suppressed an eye-roll. "It's green, ya idiot."
"Green?"
"Ay. Like forest green." She looked around, at the tall trees and the hanging leaves, acting like a shield. "I've been goin' into woods ever since I could remember. Green... is a big part of ma life."
"I can see why." Replied Jack, and she watched him from the corner of her eyes.
For the next few minutes, Merida remained in silence, drowning herself in her thoughts. Jack Frost was not what she expected― all of his movements, all of his charms; though it looked as though he was oozing the typical popular characteristics of a happy, smooth character, in truth, he was not. In fact, for the most part, he seemed thoroughly genuine in his every small smiles, rolls of the shoulders, the pauses in his words.
It was like she was meeting with a completely new stranger.
Merida finally sighed, and pushed herself up to her feet. "We need to go. It's late, and yer should probably be goin' home."
"You're right." He stood up as well, brushing any dust which managed to catch up in his shorts.
She nodded, "I'll send you to yer car. Wouldn't want yer running another three miles now, would we?"
And then, just when Merida was detached with the idea of the ever-so-charming Jack Frost, he tilted his head to the side and smirked. "Just to spend another day with you? It'll be worth it."
Merida didn't missed the immediate thought which crossed her mind: damn.
"So..." He began, keeping up with her pace. "Can I have your phone number?"
...
Author's Note: So, this chapter is a little longer than the previous ones but I like it. I think. I also made Jack a little awkward because in my opinion, in this story at least, he's the type that never really has any best friends sticking around. I think I'll dwell more in this area in the future, because we'll definitely be unfolding some background stories on both characters. And I don't know if I made Merida a little OOC, but get this: she's really the same stubborn, hot-headed princess we all know and love, but in this case, she's just trying to figure out what she's going to do with Jack Frost because well, she's awkward too.
Anyways, I'm sending my love to all of you for all the fav/alerts/reviews. Once again, drop me in of your opinion and tell me what you think! (And guys, if you have any question or also an extra opinion, please don't hesitate to contact me through my Tumblr ask: puckering-gustin. [The link to my Tumblr is on my fanfic profile]) Thank you!