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"Dude, where the hell were you last night? Joe's was packed with hot chicks," Alex questioned while he changed into his navy blue scrubs beside Jackson in the attendings locker room. For the first time in months, his partner in crime had been missing in action at the bar across from Seattle Grace Hospital. The only other time he hadn't explored a bar or club with him was when the plastic surgeon came down with the stomach flu. "Listen to this. There was this brunette chick and her blonde friend. Both of them wanted me. I couldn't decide who to bring home, so I took both. Freaking hot."

"I bet," Jackson muttered as he tied the strings of his scrub pants. "I took the night off. Wasn't in the mood."

The peds surgeon stared at him dumbfounded. "You weren't in the mood? Are you sick?" he asked curiously. His friend simply shook his head in response. "C'mon, man. Something's up. What's your deal? I know you and you don't just blow off a night of hot sex with a chick for no reason at all."

"I really wasn't in the mood. It happens sometimes."

Instead of searching for his latest one night stand at Joe's with Alex, Jackson relaxed in his bedroom twisting the friendship bracelet from April in between his fingers. The memento triggered an array of memories from his past, specifically the one year he attended summer camp. He also couldn't stop staring at the Polaroid pictures of his 13-year old self with his first girlfriend. She was pretty then and even more beautiful now. He found himself infatuated with her. It almost scared him because he never wanted to feel attached to any woman he was attracted to.

He kept the friendship bracelet inside of his laptop bag and he planned on showing it to April when the timing was right. For now, he was focused on prepping for a breast augmentation, which was scheduled an hour from when he arrived at the hospital.

"Okay, whatever. I don't mean to rub it in your face- no. Actually, I do want to rub it in your face. The chicks I brought home were freaking incredible. Apparently, they're former gymnasts, so you can imagine how flexible they were in bed," Alex gloated.

He began thrusting his hips, while he playfully waved his hand in a spanking motion. Jackson raised his eyebrow at him as he beatbox to the tune of "Ice, Ice, Baby". He rolled his eyes and looked away from Alex. "Dumbass," he mumbled to himself.

April entered the locker room, stopping a couple of feet away from her cubby. Alex hadn't stopped his obnoxious thrusting and beatboxing when she arrived and caught him in the act. "Ahem," she interrupted, causing both men to immediately notice her.

Alex quickly waved at his coworker and smiled. "Good morning, Dr. Kepner. You're looking quite stunning today," he greeted her.

"Tell that to somebody who's gullible enough to fall for your fake charm," she sneered as she placed her purse inside of her cubby. "But good morning to you too."

Jackson briefly glanced down at his shirtless torso, then he smugly grinned and turned to face April. "How are you doing this morning, Dr. Kepner?" he politely asked. "I hope Karev didn't disturb you in any way."

She forced herself to laugh. "Disturb is an understatement, but to answer your question, I'm doing alright," she casually replied, her eyes taking notice of his chiseled abs and chest. Even she couldn't deny the fact that Jackson had a delicious body, but she refused to fall for his attractive appearance. "A-and… how are you, Dr. Avery?"

He took a step closer to her, taking in the scent of her perfume from where he stood. "I'm feeling pretty good. Woke up in a nice mood. I always believe your day's automatically ruined if you wake up on the wrong side of the bed. What do you think?"

"I suppose that's true," she murmured, avoiding eye contact with him as she removed her jacket. April felt his eyes staring her down and she immediately turned her back towards him. "Is there something you need?"

"Uhh, yeah. Sort of," he said and leaned forward close to her ear. "How about you and I meet up for lunch? I mean, if you're not busy with a surgery, we could find a quiet place to eat and talk."

April angrily spun around. "What part of 'I'm not interested' did you not understand yesterday?" she sternly asked and grabbed her scrubs from her cubby. "And put your freaking shirt on. You're pathetic."

Jackson was speechless as she disappeared into a private restroom to change out of her clothes. He heard Alex laughing behind him and slowly turned around to face him. "Shut up. She thinks you're shit too," he scoffed. Returning to his own cubby, he furiously wore his scrub top. "She might have given me a chance if she hadn't walked in on you acting like an idiot."

"Dude, this isn't my fault," Alex retorted and slipped on his lab coat. "Don't even bother with her, Avery. After losing her husband last month, you know she won't put out for anybody. She's a dead end for your schlong. And that smooth talk crap obviously isn't gonna work on her. You sound like a dweeb anyway."

"Hey!" he snapped, shoving the peds surgeon with one hand. "Don't call me that again, asshole."

"Whatever," his friend nonchalantly replied. He walked towards the exit muttering, "One day without sex and you become so freaking uptight. You need to get laid ASAP, bro."

Jackson sighed in annoyance. He had heard his friends and coworkers call him a variety of names, ranging from douche bag to some very vulgar nicknames, but nothing set him off more than the word dweeb. Nobody knew why that specific name pissed him off greatly, though.

Summer 1993 – Day nine

Walking back alone to his cabin after lunch, Jackson simultaneously kicked a rock in front of him with his hands inside of his pockets. He heard rustling coming from the bushes beside him, so he stopped to examine his surroundings. Probably a bird, he thought. He continued walking, his head slightly cowered as he stared at his Air Jordan sneakers.

Suddenly, a hand grasped the back of his neck and a familiar voice made him cringe. "How ya doin' Dweebles?" the counselor he loathed the most taunted. "So I heard Weebles wobble, but don't fall down. I don't think that rule applies to Dweebles, though."

Jackson reached for the counselor's arm, but he used his other hand to slap the nerd's away. He had no idea what the older teenager's name was. The campers only referred to him as The Hawk because he sneakily preyed on innocent nerds like him. He sported a unique hairstyle that resembled Vanilla Ice – a high top fade with stripes shaved in on the sides. His eyes were always covered with his shiny black sunglasses. The Hawk was basically a poor man's version of the rapper.

"What's the point of fighting, loser? You know you won't win," he arrogantly teased. The taller and stronger counselor tightly gripped the back of Jackson's neck as he pretended to dribble his head like a basketball. "Dweebles wobble and they most definitely fall down."

Before he knew it, his face befriended the dirty path after being thrown to the ground. Pushing himself up, The Hawk stepped on his back while he and his fellow counselors passed over him. They each called him a different name, but Dweebles bothered him the most. Half of his face was covered with dirt as his eyes stung with tears. For once, he hoped he wouldn't cry after being abused by bullies, but his toughness level was fairly weak.

A pair of shoes stopped next to his head, followed by a hand reaching down to help him. "Are you okay, Jackson?" George asked concerned. "I uhh, I saw those guys picking on you. I-I I would've jumped in to stop them, but I didn't want to get my ass kicked today."

Jackson willingly took George's hand and slowly stood up. "You're wise for not helping, but thanks," he acknowledged, brushing the dirt off of his clothes. "At least I didn't bleed this time."

"Why don't you just report them to the directors?"

"Because one of these days, I'll finally stand up to them. I don't need somebody else doing my job for me." He walked alongside his fellow nerd, who was clutching a new book in his hand. "What are you reading now?"

"The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," George answered, showing him the cover. "I think April would like this one too."

Jackson eyed George suspiciously. For every different book he read, he always mentioned April possibly sharing the same interest as him. It was a no-brainer he crushed on her. But the Boston native got her first. She was his girlfriend. They hadn't bragged about it to anybody, though. It wasn't like they had done any boyfriend-girlfriend things together. Both of them were shy and awkward about it.

"Does she read a lot of books like you do?"

"Maybe not as much as me, but I try to read the ones that I think she would like." George rubbed the back of his head. "I… I have a hard time relating to her. Well, any girl for that matter. April doesn't know I like her. C-Could you not tell her? I want to tell her at the dance on Saturday."

"The dance?" Jackson adjusted his glasses. "Do we need dates?"

"No. You just show up," he replied. "But the older kids, they take it more seriously, so they try to pair up with each other. Slow dances are kind of a big deal because you can figure out who likes who based on how close their bodies are. I'm hoping my first dance with April won't be lame. It's hard to look her in the eye sometimes."

He slowly nodded in agreement. "I can see why. She's… she is pretty cute."

"She's not just cute. April's the most beautiful woman ever," George insisted. "And she's super nice, she has a cute laugh-"

"She's got this one dimple that stands out when she smiles," Jackson added. "That's one of my favorite parts about her."

"Whoa, whoa. Wait a gosh darn minute," the shorter boy interrupted their conversation, placing his hand on the new kid's chest. "Do you like April too? Because that's not fair. I saw her first. I've known her much longer than you have."

Jackson stared at George with a puzzled expression on his face. "So what? April thinks I'm cute, so I asked her to be my girlfriend," he admitted and shrugged. "She said yes. Sorry, dude."

George furiously threw his book at Jackson, hitting him in the face and knocking off his glasses. "I had a feeling letting you into our group was a bad idea," he harshly said before he walked away. "You turd."

Picking up his glasses from the ground, he blew away the dirt from the lens before wearing them again. He didn't expect the quiet nerd to explode the way he did. He felt embarrassed that even little George O'Malley could make him feel like a loser. Fortunately, nobody had seen the incident between them, so he scurried off to his cabin as quickly as possible.

Minutes after scrubbing out of his breast augmentation procedure, Jackson received a page from the ER. He reported to George in one of the trauma rooms and grimaced at the sight of the patient on the gurney. His face was mutilated and there were large lacerations all over his body.

"What in the hell happened to this guy?" the plastic surgeon inquired while he tied a trauma gown over his scrubs. "He looks like he was mauled by a bear or something."

"That's exactly what happened," George answered as he attempted to control the bleeding from the man's abdomen. "His name is Jeff Watson, age 43. Was out hunting in the woods when a bear attacked him unexpectedly. A portion of his nose was ripped off and he's lost a lot of blood from his other wounds. It's possible he suffered internal injuries as well. I've already set him up with a blood transfusion, but we need to take him to the OR stat. We'll need more than our hands for this one."

Jackson nodded in agreement, then he turned towards one of the residents standing nearby. "Brooks, page Sloan and Altman. Tell them to meet us in OR- O'Malley, do you already have a room reserved?"

"OR 2."

"You heard the man, Brooks. Page them now or do I have to do it myself?"

George watched Heather Brooks rush towards the nearest phone as he pushed the gurney out of the room. "She can handle it just fine, Avery. No need to get snooty about it," he irritably said. During pressure situations, he was more confident and delegated better. Even Jackson couldn't boss him around.

Assisting the trauma surgeon into the elevator, Jackson examined the patient's butchered nose. The tip was missing and he could partially see the nasal bone where cartilage should be covering it. He would require a nasal reconstruction and skin grafts for his other injuries. A great day for a plastic surgeon. It wasn't often a patient was mauled by a bear and brought into the ER. He also realized the surgery could take hours, which meant zero time to speak to April until it was all over.

Inside of OR 2, Jackson operated on Bear Chowder – as he preferred to call him, to the dismay of his fellow surgeons – with George, Mark and Teddy. He focused on his damaged nose, while his boss worked on the various gashes on his thighs. George was busy fixing a perforated colon and Teddy worked on saving the man's lacerated liver. So far, the patient's vitals remained stable thanks to the blood transfusion provided to him, but they still had a long way to go before they were certain he would survive.

"This man was lucky to make it out of the attack alive," Teddy commented and sighed. "How did he escape?"

"His buddy says he fired his gun and scared the bear away. He was barely conscious when he arrived in the emergency room," George explained. "I believe his wife is coming from Tacoma. Brooks will keep her updated when she arrives."

"He's going to need a full-thickness graft for both of his thighs," Mark announced, shaking his head. "He's lost a significant amount of tissue. I may use his abdominal wall for this or perhaps an allograft. His body's been chopped up enough. Also, there may be some possible femoral nerve damage, so how about paging Grey in here? Get a second opinion."

"Dr. Murphy, please page Meredith Grey. Tell her she's needed in OR 2," Teddy ordered. She briefly checked on Jackson's part of the surgery. "What are your plans for his nasal reconstruction, Avery?"

"I'm contemplating taking cartilage from his rib cage for the nose. I've had many successful rhinoplasty procedures with this approach. This shouldn't be any different. He'll appear as if his nose was untouched," the plastic surgeon gloated, completely unaware of the eye rolls and head shakes from his peers. "Who knows? Maybe he'll end up looking more attractive than before the bear attacked him."

Mark slowly gazed up at Jackson. "What makes you think this man wants to change the way he looks? And you should consult with him before you decide anything. His nasal reconstruction can wait. The rest of his body can't," he lectured. As annoyingly arrogant as the younger surgeon was, he couldn't resist wanting a guy like Jackson in his department. Being the best mattered to him regardless of how poor his attitude was.

Jackson quickly shrugged. "Sometimes change is good. When you have the opportunity to change for the better you take it," he insisted. "I mean, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but you're speaking for shallow reasons. A personality change is more important," George insinuated. "Appearance doesn't matter if your personality isn't likable."

"Says Casper the Friendly Ghost," he countered, smirking behind his surgical mask. "So, what quotes from sci-fi flicks do you use as pick-up lines, O'Malley? Have they worked?"

"Knock it off, Avery. This isn't grade school," Teddy scolded him. She would love nothing more than to gauge his pretty eyes out with her scalpel. "Either continue discussing our patient or don't say anything at all."

Jackson softly chuckled to himself. Ever since he hit on Teddy during his first day at Seattle Grace, the Head of Trauma had always despised him. She threatened to have him fired, but Arizona only gave him a warning for his unprofessionalism. That was when he decided to stick with nurses, residents, interns and women from the bars for his daily sexcapades. His fellow attendings were either married, attached to somebody else or completely turned off by him. But there was one new attending he hoped he still had a slim chance with.

"So, umm… Kepner," he changed the subject. "She seems like a very nice woman."

"Don't even think about it, Avery," Mark warned, furrowing his eyebrows at him. "Her husband just died. Leave her alone. There are plenty of other unsuspecting women to choose from."

He guffawed at his boss' statement. "All I said was she's a very nice woman."

George's head shot up from their patient and he sternly glanced at Jackson. "And she's a good person who doesn't need to be corrupted by your sleazy antics," he bluntly said. "April is also not into superficial people like you. Get over yourself already."

"Because I complimented somebody that makes me the bad guy now?" Jackson retorted. "I swear, this hospital can be too sensitive at times. People need to grow thicker skin."

"Avery, leave the OR," Mark demanded without bothering to look at him. "I'll find someone else to cover the nasal reconstruction. You're off this case."

"Are you kidding me?" he replied angrily. "Since when did you care about anything I've said? You normally just laugh off the crap I tell you."

"That's because I have to pretend to like you," the Head of Plastics confessed. "Now, get out."

Jackson wasn't planning on arguing with Mark unless, he wanted to lose his job. Setting his instruments aside, he walked away from the operating table and removed his gloves and gown. He threw them away, kicking the door open in frustration as he left the room. It was the first time in his surgical career that he had ever been kicked out of an OR. He felt humiliated after the sounds of snickers behind him were audible as he left.

Strolling down the hallway, he slipped his one hundred dollar bill printed scrub cap off of his shaved head. As he turned the corner, he spotted April heading towards his direction. She immediately tried to evade him by running into a supply closet, but he followed her inside. He blocked the door, so she couldn't leave.

"Dr. Avery! I swear to God, if you don't stop following me around and harassing me, I will report you to the Chief," she warned in a threatening tone. "It's only my second day working here and I already know there are plenty of doctors here who would love to see you fired."

"Just listen to me for a minute-"

"No! I stopped listening to you after I learned exactly who you are."

"But that's the thing. You don't exactly know who I am." He pointed at himself impatiently. "It's me, Jackson. Jackson Fox from summer camp. Remember? Twenty years ago, we met at Wazi. You found me hanging by my shorts on the flagpole. I've been wanting to tell you since I figured out who you were yesterday."

April stared at him, her mouth slightly dropped open. Although she hadn't thought about Jackson in years, she never forgot about him. His bluish-green eyes, which she had been fascinated with during that entire summer, instantly stood out to her. Her surprised reaction made him smile because he knew she remembered him now.

"Oh my gosh," she murmured, shyly smiling back at him. "It's- it's really you?"

He nodded, bashfully holding his hands behind his back. "Yeah, Fox was my mother's maiden name. I decided to cover up my name because I thought maybe somebody would connect the dots."

"At a summer camp?" she teasingly asked with a smirk on her face. "Seriously, I doubt anybody would've given a crap about your name."

"You never know who's creeping around," he sheepishly replied, then he sighed. "It's good seeing you again, April."

"I wrote to you after that summer," she recalled, gently biting down on her lower lip. "But you never wrote back. I was disappointed, to say the least. I thought we were going to be long distance pen pals or something, but I guess I expected too much from our time at camp."

Jackson slightly frowned. "Look, I'm sorry. I did get your letter, but I was hesitant to write you back. I don't remember why, though. My older brothers probably found it and gave me a hard time about it, so I chickened out," he apologetically said. "I still have the letter – and the friendship bracelet you gave me."

April laughed out loud. "You do?" She placed her hand against her chest. "I have that alien necklace you gave me too. The hologram still works. My daughter's so awestruck by it when it moves. She wears it sometimes."

"Daughter?" The word slipped out like it was a horrible curse word. He forced a smile. "You have a daughter?"

"Yup. She's three," she cheerfully answered. "Her name's Madison, but I call her Maddy. She's my sweet angel."

Jackson slowly nodded his head. "I see."

Just when he thought they were finally making positive progress she had to drop a bomb on him. April had a daughter, who most likely was as delightful as she was, but he knew things had grown more complicated for him. He didn't want kids and barely adored the ones belonging to other people. Even if he endured the bad luck of knocking up a one night stand, he wouldn't have wanted any part of the responsibility. Kids were a hassle. They were too hyper for him to handle. He didn't mind fixing them – because they were under anesthesia and asleep, so they couldn't bother him.

"Well, it makes sense for you to have a kid. You were married," he continued, but he immediately regretted his words when he saw the pained expression on her face. "Shit. I'm sorry… about your husband. It must have been extremely difficult for you to cope."

April sighed as her eyes became glossy. "It's... it's fine. I had a lot of time to prepare for his passing," she dejectedly said and cleared her throat while she ducked her head. "But I'm home, so I have a lot of support from my friends and family here. I'm mostly concerned with Maddy. She hardly got to know her father. She'll be okay, though."

He could tell she was fighting back her tears and hesitantly rested his hand on her shoulder. "Umm, you can let it out in here. It's just us," he assured her. She let her guard down and covered her mouth as she sobbed. He pulled her against his chest, hugging her tightly.

"I'm trying my best to get past the mourning phase, but some days are just too hard," she mumbled against his shoulder. The peds surgeon pulled away from him and quickly dried her eyes with the sleeves of her lab coat. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this. You apparently only care about yourself, so my problems are irrelevant to your life."

"Oh, c'mon," he groaned. "I know you prefer taking George and Lexie's words over mine, but that's not fair."

"I only know Jackson Fox. I have no idea who Jackson Avery is besides the information given to me," April truthfully replied. "And after finding out who you really are, I can't quite understand why you act the way you do. What happened to the sweet boy I became friends with at camp? He wasn't arrogant or a dick."

Jackson folded his arms. "I was a miserable teenager until I finally started defending myself. I buffed up and changed how I looked. Girls were finally noticing me in high school and I couldn't ignore that," he explained. "I worked hard to be where I'm at today. That pathetic nerd from my past was a loser. I'm a freaking winner now. I'm very close to being a plastics god."

She laughed to herself, shaking her head in disgust. "For a brief moment, I actually thought the kind and caring Jackson I befriended was still somewhere in there, but it's just an act. You're so fake," the redhead scoffed, then she walked past him and opened the door. "We're done here."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes after April left him alone in the supply closet. His optimism plunged as soon as he put his foot in his mouth. He also didn't get a chance to show her the friendship bracelet and probably wouldn't be able to anytime soon. She would likely avoid him until he could prove to her he was a trustworthy man.

Let me know what you think please :)