This chapter goes out to TheSoccerLife, who gave me piles of reviews this week- and some great advice, too. Thanks so much! As promised, the update was WAY quicker this time (you can thank TheSoccerLife for that haha.)

I apologize if chapters have been slow lately- my writing tends to reflect my life. Anyways, this chapter should have a lot more action than the others.

Jack's POV

December came and passed, and now it's been over a month since Kim has even so much as acknowledged the fact that I exist. But I suppose I'm to blame, too- I've been doing everything humanly possible to avoid eye contact with her. After she didn't answer my texts, something in me died, and I inexplicably didn't feel like facing her anymore. And I guess she doesn't care whether or not I'm around, because it's not like she's trying to talk to me.

Izzy has been pretty distant lately, too. The Sunday after our candle-making workshop, the doorbell rang twice and I opened my front door to see her standing there. She said nothing, just handed me my phone and stared at me. I thought I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes, but it was gone the next instant and I convinced myself I'd imagined it as she smiled broadly and walked back to her car.

"Yo, Jack." Jerry swaggers up to me, offering me a cigarette identical to the one he's smoking. I shake my head no. Jerry expects this answer, sliding the cigarette back into his jacket pocket. "All right, suit yourself."

The bell rings signaling the end of the day and Jerry takes off, yelling over his shoulder, "See you later!" I wave halfheartedly at him. He's been spending a lot of time with this girl in his Spanish class lately. Grabbing a couple textbooks and binders out of my locker and shoving them into my backpack, I make my way through the quickly emptying hallways. It's an early dismissal day today.

I'm taking a shortcut through a park near my house when I think I hear a scream. I shake my head, convinced I'm hearing things. It wouldn't be the first time. I continue along the path, backpack weighing my shoulders down as if it's filled with boulders, or maybe gold bricks. But I hear it again, a shrill, piercing sound in the near-silence of the park. It comes as suddenly as the crack of a rifle, but then it cuts off and there's silence once again.

Concerned, I sprint towards the direction of the screams- a dense grove of trees on the other side of the field I'm on. I crash through the undergrowth, branches snagging at my flannel shirt, slightly out of breath. A couple times I almost trip, but manage to catch myself. Finally, I come upon a narrow path, and am able to run faster until I finally come to a clearing in the midst of the trees. I stand there catching my breath, an oddly familiar teal messenger bag lying dirt-streaked on the ground, with a large piece of ripped purple flannel caught on a branch nearby.

I don't even take the time to register the fact that I'm probably already too late, that whatever was going on is probably already over. Following my instincts, I make my way out of the grove and run up the street where I spot a group of men loading a blonde girl into a generic silver van. She spits something out of her mouth, and as I grow closer I hear her yelling, "Help!"

It takes a moment for me to figure out where I know that voice from. Kim. I watch, too far to do anything, as a burly figure slaps her. The sound echoes along the empty street, and I wonder where the residents of this street are. There's an honest-to-goodness kidnapping going on here, and the only person around to help is a seventeen-year-old boy? Pathetic.

I run for what seems like an eternity, praying that I'll be fast enough.

"Kim!" I scream. The windows are tinted and I can't see inside the van. "Someone, please help!" As I reach it, the doors are just beginning to slide shut, and without thinking I jam my backpack into the gap, temporarily stopping them. I force the door open with my shoulder, and there's Kim, hands bound.

She kicks the captor sitting beside her in the head as he's distracted, and yells, "Jack, behind you!" I swing my backpack as I turn around, and it hits the man behind me with a thud. Adrenaline surges through me as I knock him to the ground with a series of kicks. There's a moment of absolute clarity as I look at the nameless man lying there on the ground, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek and blue eyes filled with sadness. But then the world fades into a blur again as I fall back into the once-familiar pattern of karate, battling the men that rush at me all at once. As I fight, I can't help but wonder why these kidnappers aren't armed. And all of a sudden, sirens are blaring and I hear the click of a gun.

A handful of police cars are parked along the road, cutting both ends off to prevent the van from escaping. A lone police officer stands in front of the nearest car, its lights blinking furiously. He holds a pistol, aimed at the driver's door.

"Get out of the car with your hands up." He barks at the driver.

Kim's POV

The next morning I walk downstairs to discover a newspaper lying beside my orange juice and toast with jam. I groan as I sit down- I've got a couple of bruises and scrapes left over from yesterday, although they look worse than they feel. After Jack rescued me, I was taken to the hospital for a checkup, and luckily they said I would be all right. You would've thought my parents would've at least hugged me when I got home, but it was as if nothing had happened. They'd been told about the kidnapping attempt, but the moment I got home I was told to go upstairs and do homework.

My gaze is drawn to the newspaper, which proclaims in large letters, "Local hero saves girl from kidnappers." I scan the article, noting that they kept us anonymous. A small smile curves my lips when I read that Jack refused to comment. He can be so predictable sometimes.

Half an hour later, I find myself leaning against my locker, messenger bag hanging at my side and Jack walking towards me. He stands beside me awkwardly for a moment, then clears his throat.

"Hey, Kim.. Are you all right? I mean, after yesterday and all." He says after glancing over his shoulder.

I shrug nonchalantly. "Yeah, I'm good."

He adjusts his backpack, looking at me. "I.." He hesitates. "Would it be all right with you if we keep yesterday a secret?" I nod, finding it an odd question. Why wouldn't he want to be seen as a hero?

"Works for me," I say. "Hey, did they take you in for questioning yesterday? The police, I mean."

"Yeah," He replies, "I told them I just heard a scream while walking home and the next thing I knew, I was hitting thugs with my backpack. They let me go after that." Then he seems to remember something, abruptly changing the subject. "So what were you doing alone in the clearing?"

I don't answer him right away, possible responses flashing through my head. That particular place was where the two of us used to meet all the time when we were little. We'd dream up magical kingdoms where dragons existed and people could fly, and it was the place we could go to find refuge from the taunts of other children. Lately I've been stopping by after school because I missed talking to Jack. Yesterday I meant to finish up some homework there before heading home, until someone hit me on the head and-

The bell rings loudly and I turn to go, but Jack gently grabs my arm.

"What?" I question a little sharper than I mean to.

Jack flinches slightly, keeping his eyes on mine. "Are we good now?" He asks tentatively, vulnerability flashing across his face for a moment. I don't doubt it was there.

I bite my lip and smile, brushing a lock of hair back from my face. "Yeah, we're good. I can't really hold a grudge against you after you saved me, can I?" Even if what you did hurt and I feel like I should still be angry at you.

A grin spreads across his face, and in that instant I forgive him fully.

"To AP Bio, then?" He extends his arm to me, and I laugh.

"To AP Bio."

Review, please, especially if you've got suggestions for the story! Thanks for reading, and I promise I'll do my best to update soon.