Ugh. This chapter just didn't want to get written.

I do have some bad news. I'm not going to be able to update for a good two weeks, since I'm going out to a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no wifi connection. So... no updates. I will be writing out the next chapter and planning out future chapters while I'm away though, so expect an update around the tenth of August.

Thank you all so much for reading this and for sending in your reviews! I totally eat up every compliment and criticism I get, so they're very much appreciated!

.

.

The rest of Hiccup's and my routine bike practices go along a lot more smoothly compared to our first. Although I still somehow manage to find myself being thrown to the ground on a regular basis, it's not quite as frequent as before, and I'm glad to say that I actually have improved quite a bit. I have the whole balancing thing down, and picking up speed and making sharp turns is coming more naturally to me now.

Though I feel a lot more confident with my biking than a week ago, Hiccup stays realistic about the upcoming race against who I discover is actually his loathed cousin. I'd like to think I stand a chance against this Lout guy - he's definitely heavier than me, so wouldn't that mean I'd have a speed advantage of some sort? - but Hiccup is quite frank when he says there's no chance of me crossing the finish line before him.

"I mean… you'll definitely finish the race, Jack," he tacks on when he sees my dejected reaction to this news. "Not before him, no, but you'll… y'know. You'll finish. Which is a huuuuge improvement, I think, with where you were when we started, right?"

Even though it's somewhat of a downer to admit that I won't be winning this race, I guess losing to Lout won't be the absolute end of the world. Hiccup claims that Lout didn't accept his challenge to race me because he's out to get revenge for me messing up his paint job, but because he just wants a reason to be the center of attention. Since Hiccup has known this boy for what he tells me is his entire life, I don't see a reason to not trust his words.

At least, out of this experience, I've not only learned how to ride a bike - which seems to be a need-to-know skill in this small town - but I've also grown closer to Hiccup. No, I won't say we're best friends or anything like that, but things definitely have changed between us compared to when we had first met. When he talks to me now, he mostly succeeds in making eye contact, when he used to only be able to look at anything besides me it seemed. Not only has he improved with locking eyes, but our conversations have moved from being somewhat strained and awkward to, well… indigenous feeling. He laughs and smiles a lot more than he used to, and his sassy and sarcastic remarks are still intact with his odd sense of humor, which I've learned to play along with.

Despite the fact that we've both gotten to this comfortable place in our relationship though, we still haven't moved much in the department that has to do with personally knowing each other. I've tried every so often to bring up something deeper than riding bikes - like his home life or other friendships he has - but Hiccup always just shrugs me off, instantly switching the topic back to how leaning forward slightly will increase my speed. I eventually stop pestering him about it when I find that not only am I not making any advances in my strategy, but he isn't making any attempts to actually get to know me either. I suppose, when he wants to tell me about those things, he will. Until then… well, I guess I should just enjoy his company.

We stick to just riding everywhere we can go, practicing on different surfaces with different obstacles; anything that'll better prepare me for what I'm going to face this upcoming Saturday. What started out as just me riding up and down the main street of the outskirts of town eventually leads to the two of us venturing off into the middle of town, where the roads are paved and smooth. That surface change in itself ends up being somewhat of a challenge for me, since I've grown accustomed to roads that are bumpy and jagged, but I get over it quickly, which impresses Hiccup more than he'll admit, I can tell.

During our first days with riding in town, some kids around our age would spit words of hate at us, saying that I don't stand a chance against Lout, apparently the long-standing king of bike racing. After a couple of days of taking Hiccup's advice though and ignoring them, the constant mockery fades away until the kids don't even bat an eyelash at us coming down the street anymore.

"Why do they do that?" I ask as we reach the familiar dirt road leading back to my house. It's only two days before the race, and I can slowly feel this thing Emma told me is called nervousness creeping into my chest. "I mean, we all know I'm not going to win. Why are they rubbing it in?"

Hiccup lets out a sigh from beside me as we continue to pedal. "Some people just…" He trails off, allowing only the sounds of our bikes to remain.

"Just… what?" I ask.

"Just… mean. Some people are just mean."

There's something about how he says the last word, the emphasis that leads me to believe that this boy understands something that I still haven't quite grasped yet. I say, "You sound like you're used to this kind of treatment from them. Are you?" and he answers without even skipping a single beat.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Taken aback by how quickly he answered and even by his cold tone, I look away and down at my feet, still pedaling. "Oh… o-okay…"

After biking in silence for only a moment or two, Hiccup begins to review me on everything I learned that day, a regular thing we do as our practices draw to an end. As he's asking me what one would have to do in order to make an effective and quick U-turn, I notice something out of the corner of my eye positioned on the side of the road. Hiccup continues on as I turn my head to see two children, one a boy with short, dark brown hair, and the other a girl with a nest of blonde on her head, standing behind what I think is a box turned upside down. There's a pitcher and a dozen or so paper cups sitting on top of the box in front of them, a small sign with LEMONADE 4 SALE - 50¢ scribbled on it almost illegibly in red.

"What's that?" I ask, breaking into Hiccup's question.

He looks over to where I'm referring, giving off a vibe of being a little frustrated with me for not paying attention to his review, but also confused on what I'm talking about. When he sees the children though, who are now waving towards us with large smiles on their faces, he lightens up.

"That's a lemonade stand, duh," he tells me. "Didn't you ever run a lemonade stand when you were a kid? It was, like… a simple way of gettin' some cash back then, even though who really needed money at that age, right?"

I shake my head. "I've never heard of it before."

Hiccup gives me that weird look he always gives me when I say I don't know something that I suppose every normal person would know. Even after having to receive this look for the last week on several occasions, I still don't know how to react to it. I haven't been able to find the right time to tell him why I don't know all these things, but then again, maybe I shouldn't. My parents - especially my mother - have stressed to me often that some people just won't understand and may even take advantage of my situation, which is the last thing I want.

After receiving this look so many times from Hiccup, the urge to just tell him is becoming difficult to fight though. Not only do I want to tell him so he'll stop looking at me funny, but because I honestly just want him to know.

"What planet are you even from?" I hear Hiccup say. By the way he's wearing that smirk on his freckled face, his gapped front teeth showing, I can tell he's just messing with me now.

I decide to play along, like usual. "Ah, well… seeing as you've caught me… I guess I have no choice but to tell you the truth of who I really am. Hiccup… I'm an alien."

"You don't say?"

"I know it may be somewhat of a shock to you…"

"Oh no, trust me. It's not."

"Well, that's good. So, how do you feel about me harvesting your brains for research?"

"Uh… a little…"

"Scared?"

"To say the least."

"Good, good. I'll need to record that in my space journal when I get home. Human reactions to life threatening situations are very important data to log you know."

"I'm sorry, but do I even know you?"

"No, I don't believe you really do."

"Yeah, uh… let's go get some lemonade."

We bike our ways up to the lemonade stand, Hiccup fishing in his back pocket for his wallet as he explains to me briefly how a lemonade stand works. Both the children seem to be rather excited to see us, but the boy, who's the eldest of the two, tries to hide it - unlike the younger girl, who's probably only four and now jumping around the stand laughing, her messy blonde hair flying all around her.

"Two lemonades, please, young sir," Hiccup says as we come to a stop in front of the stand, him pulling a dollar out to hand to the young boy. I'm about to protest about him paying for me, but he manages to wave me off before I can even get a word out.

"Wow. Only a dollar for two lemonades," I say, smiling down at the boy and girl as I lean on my handlebars. "That's a pretty good deal you've got going here."

"Thanks!" the boy says, a large smile showing off a missing front tooth appearing on his face. "We wanted to make it cheaper than the stuff they sell at The Ring, right, Sophie? Uh… Sophie?" At not hearing a reply, the boy looks around frantically, his brown eyes growing large with fear. "Ah man, Soph! If I lose her again, Mom'll kill me!"

"Don't worry, don't worry," I hear Hiccup laugh as I look down and see the little girl sitting by his foot closest to the stand, poking the toes of his shoe. "She's right here, safe and sound, aren't ya?" The girl named Sophie looks up at him with the biggest green eyes I've ever seen before, and lets out a laugh, along with a "Jamie, Jamie! Robot! Beep boop boop!"

"Soph, what are you talking…" the boy supposedly named Jamie starts, leaning over the stand to see who I assume is his little sister, nearly knocking over the pitcher of lemonade in the process. As soon as he stands and looks down at the little girl though, his eyes grow twice their original size. "WOAH!" he exclaims, a large grin peeling across his face. "Are you some kind of robot or something?"

In all honestly, I'm a little confused by this statement, mainly because I can't tell if he's talking to me or Hiccup anymore. By the way I hear Hiccup chuckle though, Sophie continuing to sing, "Robot, robot, rooooobot! Beep beep beep boop!" I can tell the question was directed towards him.

"Yeah, uh… I guess I kinda am, aren't I?" Hiccup say, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. "More part robot than anything, buuuut… eigh, close enough."

I look over at Hiccup strangely, wondering what he's talking about, as Jamie pours our lemonades and continues to obsess over the fact that he's apparently meeting a part robot for the first time. When I look down at Hiccup's freckle covered legs resting on either side of his stationary bike, since I hear Sophie saying some illegible gibberish down there at his foot, that's when the pieces begin to fall into place.

His prosthetic leg. That's made out of metal.

I had noticed the odd limb upon meeting him last week, sure, but I never thought of pointing it out, because, even after two weeks of being out of the hospital, I already had an understanding that there are just certain things you don't bring up with people. And a lost limb just struck me as one of those touchy topics, also considering the fact that I don't know exactly how he lost it.

That doesn't mean curiosity wasn't taking over the best of me however.

My train of thought is broken by Hiccup passing me a paper cup filled to the brim with lemonade over his handlebars, the ice inside of it so cold I can feel it on my fingertips. I start listening to the conversation unraveling in front of me again, letting Hiccup's prosthetic leave my mind. Jamie tells us that one of his favorite characters in this televisions show he and Sophie watches every day has one leg and that he beats people up with it sometimes, which makes me laugh.

"Do you beat people up with your leg?" Jamie asks as he stuffs the dollar Hiccup had given him into a piggy bank.

"All the time," I answer before Hiccup can. "If you look closely at the local kids around here, you'll notice that they have a bunch of bruises on their calves." I twist my leg around, revealing a smaller blue and purple bruise near my shin that I gained after falling off my bike and having the pedal smack up against it rather hard. "See that right there? That's a perfect example of what that leg of his can do."

Jamie looks down at my naked shin wide eyed, as Sophie crawls over towards me and pokes it, giggling like crazy.

"It's not good to lie to children, Jack," Hiccup tells me, taking a sip from his lemonade. "You're poisoning their young minds."

"I'm just warning them of your brutality. No harm in that."

"Yeah, except when it's a lie."

"I don't know where you're getting this whole me lying thing from, but I can assure you that that itself is a lie."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that."

"You guys are funny," Jamie pipes in with a giggle. He then turns and addresses me directly, looking rather curious. "Why do you have white hair?"

"He's an alien," Hiccup says before I can, and I can't help but smile at the reference from earlier. "Part of a rare race that has hair that changes color depending on their intelligence level. They're endangered you know."

"Wow," Jamie goes, him and his little sister both now staring wide eyed up at my hair. "An alien? Really?"

I'm about to dismiss this and say Hiccup's only joking with them, but he continues to milk it without giving me a chance to stop him. "Oh yeah. The darker the hair, their smarter they are. The lighter it is… well…"

"IIIIIII think we should go," I interrupt before he can finish his sentence. The siblings let out a collective "awwwww" as Hiccup smirks my way and mounts himself back on to the seat of his bike, his lemonade still in hand. Looking back down at Jamie, avoiding Hiccup's smug look, I say, "It was nice meeting you kids. Thanks for the lemonade!"

"No, thank you for buying it!" Jamie says back with a grin. I hear little Sophie sing, "Bye bye, robot and alien!" as we pedal off, and I have a hard time not smiling from ear to ear.

We move further down the road towards my house, only maybe half a mile away from where Jamie ad Sophie had had their lemonade stand set up. Hiccup takes periodic sips from his cup, gripping on to the handlebar with one hand as he does so. My eyes trail down to his prosthetic leg when he isn't watching, and my mind is instantly bursting with questions that I really want to be answered: How did he get it? When did it happened? Is it hard, only having one real leg?

Once we approach my house and the sun finally gets the best of us, we pull to the side of the road and park ourselves under a nearby tree. I'm finally able to take a sip of my lemonade as I hear Hiccup next to me say, "Cute kids, huh?"

I nod, taking in the sourness of the drink.

"I think they're your neighbors," he tells me, stretching his legs out in front of him and letting out a yawn. "The Bennett's or something?"

I nod again, this time more absent-mindedly. I think my parents mentioned something about our neighbors being named the Bennett's, but I'm concentrating too hard on the metal that is Hiccup's leg to really dwell on it too hard.

"Yeah, I think I babysat for Jamie when he was a baby," Hiccup goes on. "He was probably the soundest sleeper I ever had to deal with during my short-lived babysitting career in middle-"

"How'dyouloseyourleg?"

The words come out faster than I can ever think them in my head, which leads to them sounding a little like Sophie's gibberish from earlier. The worst part, however, is the fact that Hiccup actually understood them, which means he's now staring at me with this stunned expression that's making me regret my question more than anything, and I don't know what to say, because he's looking at me, and I can feel him about to dismiss it like every other personal question I ask him, and then the rest of the day is going to be so embarrassing and awkward and-

"I'm sorry," I say without even thinking. "That was rude. You don't have-"

"No," Hiccup goes, startling me slightly, since I hadn't been expecting him to talk back. "No. It's, uh… it's fine." I hear him chuckle a little, placing his lemonade in the dried up grass beside him. "I was actually wondering when you'd ask me about it, not gonna lie. Took you long enough."

"Oh… well… I would've asked sooner if I knew you wanted me to."

When I see him let out this tiny smile - and yes! It's one of his genuine ones - I know that this conversation that I was so frightened of having only seconds ago is going to go a lot smoother than I anticipated.

"It was a bike accident," he tells me simply. "Back when I was, uh… thirteen, I think? Dang, now that I think about it, that was only two summer ago. Wow… feels like a lot longer than that. Ha... anyways… uh… I don't remember who I was racing, but I think it was either Lout or one of the twins or someone, but that doesn't really matter, not really. But… something happened? With my bike, I mean. I don't think I checked it before riding that day, which was the stupidest mistake anyone could make. But I think my chain popped or something, and I lost control of the bike, and, well… I don't quite remember how it happened exactly, since I passed out really soon afterwards, but I think my bike crushed my leg up against a wall or something like that, and completely destroyed it. The only thing they could do after was to just… y'know… cut it off. So they did, and now-" He leans forward, knocking his fist against the metal steam that is now his leg. "-I have this beautiful contraption attached to me forever and always, 'til death do us part."

And, with hearing this story, suddenly all the pieces fall perfectly into place. Fish had told me just a week ago about an accident that Hiccup was in involving a bike. Of course that accident was the one that resulted in him losing a leg. I mean, there's nothing else physically wrong with this guy, so that had to be it. Wow, how could I be so stupid as to not see the connections?

"Not much of a cool story, I know," Hiccup goes on when I don't say anything right away. "I was thinking, y'know, after it happened, of making up some awesome horror story that would totally impress all the girls and stuff… but there were people that saw what really happened, and Lout would definitely call me out on it, so that idea was shot down pretty quick."

"But you still bike?" I ask, looking up at him. "I mean, even after it took your leg?"

Hiccup just shrugs, suddenly not being able to keep his eyes on me anymore. "Well… yeah. I mean, sure, I lost my leg because of it, but… whatever. I just make sure that my bike is always in tip-top shape before getting on it, so I don't lose the other one."

"Is it hard though? Biking with it?"

Another shrug, still no eyes contact. "Kinda. I mean… at first it was. But walking and doing pretty much anything involving my legs was hard, so it wasn't like biking was any different."

"But you're used to it now?"

"Well, yeah. I mean… I don't really think I had any other choice, now did I?"

Slowly shaking my head and leaning back against the tree behind me, I allow myself to take in what I've just learned. I feel like, with him telling me this, a door has been opened between us. Actually, now that I think about it, it's more like a door's been cracked open, only slightly, since there is still so much I want to ask this boy. I, however, restrain myself from letting my mouth run, since I'm thankful for just getting this piece of insightful information.

Hiccup gets up then, dusting off the grass from his shorts. "Wanna go get some shakes at The Ring or something?" he asks me, cocking his head in the direction of town. "You did really well today, so I figured you earned it. And because it's just too damned hot out here."

"Under one condition," I say as he pulls up his bike.

"And that condition iiiiiis… what exactly?"

I smirk, getting up from under the tree. "That you tell me your real name."

Hiccup stares at me for a moment, a deadpan look on his face, and then he lets out a loud "HA!", catching me completely off guard. When I ask him what's so funny, he simply says, "Dude! I've been goin' by Hiccup for so long, I don't even remember what my real name is anymore!"

.

.

As the two of us sit at Fish's and my usual table at The Ring, waiting for Astrid to come take our orders, I can tell that Jack wants to probably continue asking me questions. Now don't get me wrong. I like Jack, I really do. He's definitely not someone I pictured myself becoming close with, no, but you know what? What happens happens and I'm not going to argue with it.

This whole him asking me questions about my life outside of our daily practices thing though? Yeah, I'd rather not.

Instead, I get him talking about the upcoming school year to keep him distracted, despite the fact that this is the last thing I really want to talk about. The first month of summer vacation has been nearly used up and I hadn't even realized it. That's just awesome.

Jack tells me he's seventeen, so I assume that means he's going to be a mighty senior this year. He doesn't seem very arrogant about it though, which is odd, since most incoming seniors this year are really big-headed about their sudden "authority".

"What grade are you going to be in?" he asks once I finish explaining to him the system that is our high school hierarchy system.

"Stupid sophomore," I tell him, rolling my eyes.

"What's so bad about being a sophomore?"

"Honestly? Not much. I'm just tired of being an underclassman, that's all."

"An under-what-man?"

I feel like I should be used to this - him asking me what simple things are - but, in all honesty, I'm not. Ever since he asked me what a predicament was when we first met, it's just been one of those things that just… I don't know. It's weird. I try to not point it out though, since it may be some touchy mental disorder that might offend him if I were to speak up about it, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious.

"An underclassman is someone that's, like, in their lower two grades, y'know?" I explain, giving in to his ignorance like I usually do. "An underclassmen is someone who's a freshman or sophomore - like me and Fish - and an upperclassman is someone who's a junior or senior - like you and Tooth."

That familiar name quickly catches his attention, his eyes seeming to have a little sparkle in them at hearing it. "Tooth's an upperclassman?"

I can't help but let out a chuckle at his reaction to her name, but decide not to say a word about it, for his sake. "Yeah. Last I heard, she's gonna be a junior this year."

"Oh… I didn't know that."

Astrid glides up to us then, her blonde bangs clipped back out of her eyes and her long braid thrown over her bare shoulder. Seeming a little stunned as she pulls up to our table, I guess because she's never seen someone other than Fish accompanying me here before, she turns towards me and asks, "Who's this?"

"I'm Jack!" Jack introduces himself before I can. Astrid raises an eyebrow at his enthusiasm.

"He just moved into town at the beginning of the summer," I explain further for her. "Jack, this is Astrid. She's a, uh… a friend."

"Yeah. Something like that," Astrid says under her breath, and I stick my tongue out at her. "What can I get you two on this awfully humid day then?"

"Two shakes," I say. "One straight-up chocolate aaaaand…"

Jack says his order right on cue. "One vanilla with rainbow sprinkles!"

Astrid jots something down on her little notepad, barely lifting her pen as she goes, then looks up at Jack, narrow her eyes at him. "I think I've seen you before. Or at least heard of you. Aren't you that kid that messed up Lout's bike a week ago or whatever? The one that challenged him to race this weekend?"

"How do you know about that?" Jack asks, seeming genuinely surprised.

"It's a little thing called the Wildfire Effect," I explain to Jack as Astrid rolls her eyes, taking a seat across the table from the both of us. "It occurs mostly in little towns like Berk here."

"The Wildfire Effect?"

"It means that it spread like wildfire," Astrid explains for him. "I mean, everyone in town knows about it now. It's kinda a super big deal, since no one's ever challenged Lout to a race before. Say, are you any good at biking? 'Cause you're gonna need to be really good if you plan on beatin' Lout."

Jack shrugs in response. "I'm alright. Hiccup's been teaching me a lot of stuff though, so I think I'll be fine. I don't plan on winning. Just crossing the finish line."

Astrid's stare goes slowly from him to me, and the look she gives me says I've apparently done something wrong. Jack can't see this though, because she shoots me this grin and politely asks, with a slight edge in her tone that's masked pretty well, "Can I talk to you for a moment, Hiccup? In private?"

I know there's not physical way out of this, so I nod and we both get up, leaving Jack alone at the table. I follow her a few yards away, I suppose making sure Jack isn't in hearing range. Right before we're about to round the corner of the kitchen, she cuts sharply in front of me, her braid nearly whipping me in the face.

"Okay, what'd I do?" I ask, and she narrows her eyes.

"Are you telling me that that boy isn't going to try and win against Lout this weekend? Because I feel like that completely defeats the purpose of him racin' him to begin with."

"Yes, that's initially the plan," I tell her. "I mean, he just learned how to bike, Astrid. He isn't the most advan-"

"WHAT!?"

Ah, man. Probably should've left that part out…

"Yeah," I go on, scratching the back of my neck, looking anywhere but at the girl that could potentially beat me to a bloody pulp if she wanted to in front of me. "He didn't know how to ride a bike when I met him, sooooo I've been, uh… I've been teaching him. And stuff. He's actually gotten really good."

I look up, and Astrid doesn't look quite as upset as she does utterly shocked. I don't know if this is a good or bad thing.

"You're gonna get him killed, Hiccup," she breaths. "He's gonna die racing against Lout."

"Oh, stop it," I say, rolling my eyes at her. "Listen, I've been teaching him the basics, and even some tricks as well, so I think-"

"Noooo, I don't think you understand what you're up against here. Lout… dear Gods… Lout bikes dirty, alright? He doesn't care if the person he's biking against is advanced or not. He's gonna do whatever he can to win. That. Race."

"Aaaaaand I've been teaching Jack how to bike dirty too! We practice on dirt roads and rocky terrain and stuff, and I push him around when we go against each other! He's got a good sense of balance and he's super quick. Really, he is, Astrid. No, I don't believe he's gonna be able to win, but he'll definitely get out of the race alive."

Astrid's shaking her head, like she's trying to shake my words away, which honestly kind of bugs me. Why can't she accept the fact that, no, Jack's not going to win against Lout - like I know she wants him to - but hey, it's not like he's going to get completely massacred either.

"That's not enough, Hiccup," she hisses at me, looking quickly around to see if any of her co-workers are watching in our argument. "Whatever you've taught him, it isn't enough. He's gonna get hurt. Like, really bad."

"Oh please. Have some faith in me, will ya."

"How can I have faith in your when you're basically preparing him for slaughter?"

"I'm not going to let him get killed. Geez, Astrid."

"And why in Thor's name should I believe that load of crap?"

"Because he's my friend, that's why."

Astrid opens her mouth, appearing to be armed with a comeback, but nothing comes out from between her lips. She holds my stare, her blue eyes meeting mine, and I hold it for as long as I can, wanting her to see the weight in my words. Closing her mouth, she takes a step away from me, allowing her shoulders, hunched for an attack, to relax.

"Listen," I continue when she's clearly given me the floor to speak again. "He's not gonna get hurt, you hear me? He's a good biker and I've taught him everything I know. There is no way on this green earth that he's going to even get a scrap on his knee, alright? He's going to be fine."

"I really hope you're right, Haddock."

"And I am. Just… be there this Saturday. Watch him race, and you'll see what I mean."

Astrid shakes her head, looking over at where Jack is still sitting, who seems too occupied with the sugar packet in his hands to have heard us.

"If he gets hurt-"

"He won't."

"If he does," Astrid goes on, walking past me and towards the ordering station, ignoring my protest, "I'm blaming you and you alone." Before I can say anything back, she's off, gliding through tables and chairs, away from me and my anger.

I stalk my way back to our table and, as I sit down, Jack surprises me by asking, "So what was all that about?" I had assumed he hadn't heard - or at least seen - a thing between Astrid and me, since he had looked so preoccupied, but I suppose I was wrong.

"She… doesn't think my teaching methods when it comes to biking are good," I only halfway lie. The last thing I want to tell him right now is that she things he's going to get killed this weekend. Yeah, that's a good way to boost his confidence.

"Well, that's stupid," Jack says bluntly, tossing the sugar packet back with the others. "Is she really your friend? I mean, she didn't seem to really like you that much."

"Honestly?" I ask, and he nods he head at me. "She's kinda the girl I've been in love with since I was eight-years-old. But she's also one of the main girls that absolutely hates my guts."

Jack's eyebrows raise at this. "That's… rough."

"You bet it is. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure, uh… actually… there was something I wanted to talk to you about."

Shoot, I should've given him the opportunity to pick the topic for a conversation without even realizing it. Knowing him, he's going to ask me about my family life or my friendships and just, bleh. Those are the last things I want to have to talk about right-

"I wanted to come clean with why I ask so many, um… obvious questions."

Oh? Now this might be interesting. I show he's got my attention by leaning back in my chair, crossing my arms across my chest. He licks his lips, showing that he's nervous, and I begin to wonder what type of information he's about to tell me.

"Well… this is going to sound kind of weird, but… I, uh…" Taking a deep breath, he claps his hands together and says, "I was in a coma."

Say what now?

"It was like… there was an accident. You know, kind of like what happened to you," he goes on when I don't say anything. "And I hit my head. Really hard. I don't know how or on what or when it happened, but I guess I nearly died or something because of the impact? I don't know, but I lost, like… all my memory. Like, I woke up and didn't know who I was or where I was or what had happened to me. I couldn't even remember how to speak."

"Woah," I breathe out without meaning to.

"Yeah, I know. Like, I could form the words in my head, but I couldn't get them out. And I looked at my hand and was just thought, 'What is this?', you know."

"Wait, wait, wait" I stop him before he can go on. "You're telling me that you didn't even know what your hand was?" What the hell does that even mean? I mean, I've heard of people losing their memories after getting in some accident involving their head, but not being able to remember simply body parts or words? There's got to be something more to this kid's story that he's not telling me, because that just doesn't make any sense.

"No. I looked at my hand was just… I was in shock, to tell you the truth," he explains, holding up his hand and looking down at it, like he was remembering the memory. "It was so weird. But that's what I did for the first week out of the hospital. Emma - my little sister - she would teach me words and their meanings, and we would play games to get me thinking again. And as soon as I heard a word, I would instantly remember what it was and what it meant. It was just… it was just weird."

"Tell me about it," I laugh. "Dang. That's… wow."

"Yeah. But… yeah. I really wanted to tell you, because, well… you give me these looks. Like, when I don't know what something is. And I felt like, if I told you my situation, you won't do that anymore. You'd… you know… understand."

I'm suddenly at a loss for words as he stares down at his lap, looking a little embarrassed to be admitting this to me, when, really, I should be the one that feels embarrassed - which I totally do, oh Gods. I hadn't even realized that that was the reason why this kid didn't get what a lemonade stand was. I thought he was just slow or something, not suffering from freaking memory loss.

"Wow, man," I somehow manage to say. "I… I'm sorry. I mean, about being so, uh… so obvious with that. If I had known…"

"I know. And it's okay," Jack says, smiling up at me. "That's why I decided to tell you."

"Why'd you wait so long though?"

"I… I needed to build up enough courage to actually tell you."

I nod, letting his simple words sink in. Man. To tell someone something like this - that you were in a coma for x-amount of days and woke up not even knowing who you were. Not going to lie, but I understand how that must take some balls.

"Do you… know what happened to you? Like, for you to hit your head so hard?"

Jack shakes his head. "No. Not a clue."

"Have you thought of maybe asking your parents about it?"

"They don't know what happened either. They weren't there."

"Ah… well… that's a bummer."

Jack shrugs, leaning back in his chair more comfortably. "It's not the worse. I mean, it'd be nice to know exactly what happened, but no one else was around, so… no luck there."

"I guess it's for the better," I tell him. When he gives me a quizzical look, I continue. "Like… maybe if you knew what happened, it would change how you act now. I mean, I don't know if you were someone totally different in your, uh… 'past life', so to speak, but I think it's good to move on from stuff like that. You're a new person now. You should take advantage of that."

Geez. What in the world am I even saying? Here I am, telling him to move on from past events, act like they never played any important role in his life, when I can't even do it myself. Seven years later, and I still can't help but look at that picture on my nightstand, wondering how things would've been so much different if I hadn't-

"I suppose you're right," Jack says, interrupting my thoughts, which I'm thankful for. The last thing I need to be thinking about right now is my mom.

As Jack is telling me about one of his first days out of the hospital when he went exploring in his backyard with his little sister, Astrid glides up to our table and plops two shakes down in front of us without saying a word. She's flipped her tray in her hand and is about to glide off when I notice that, instead of having a chocolate shake, I have a strawberry. I'm about to announce this to her, but she's already zoomed off before I can.

"Didn't you order a chocolate shake?" Jack points out, taking a quick sip from his own.

"Yeeeeeah, but I have a feeling she mixed them up on purpose," I tell him with a smile. "The jokes on her though. I actually secretly wanted strawberry."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Sure you did."

.

.

I'm standing in the middle of the woods, my bike beside me as I feel the gentle breeze brush against my cheeks and nose. Nothing around me looks familiar, but at the same time, it does. I know this feeling should bother me, but it don't let it. I look up and trees on top of trees form a canopy over me, the sun only barely able to peek through the quivering leaves. Tangled ribbons of roots emerge from the dirt ground around my feet, wrapping around each other like they're all attempting to strangle the other.

I feel at peace here. I don't know why, but I do.

"Hey! Jack!"

I turn to see Hiccup, sitting amply on his bike's seat, waving me over, his auburn hair looking more red than brown because of the odd sunlight here. Without hesitation, I jump on my bike and start pedaling towards him. I feel like I should be having a hard time as I move, with all these roots in my way, but I glide across the ground as if they're not even there. Hiccup gets on his bike as I move towards him, and he starts pedaling away from me, a toothy grin showing off the gap between his front teeth on his face.

"Wait up, Hic!" I yell, twisting my handlebars every which way in order to avoid the trees surrounding me. "You're going too fast! I can't keep up!"

"You're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna keep up then!" he yells back at me. Despite that I can see him through the trunks, his hair standing out like a sore thumb, his voice sounds like he's miles off, giving off a feeling of an echo. I don't like the feeling this gives me, so I pedal faster, desperately hoping to catch up with him.

This goes on for what feels like hours, the two of us riding through the woods together, trees and bushes, animals and rocks zooming past us as we go. Half of me feels irritated, because I want to catch up with Hiccup, but the other half feels serene. The landscape passing me by is so beautiful, even if I'm not able to really dwell on any of it like I want to.

All of the sudden I feel this pang in the back of my head. Reaching up and touching my hair, I almost lose control of the bike and crash into a tree, but I'm somehow able to catch myself.

"You alright back there?" I hear Hiccup's distance voice ask. I look around, trying to find his familiar form, but I can't through all the nature.

"Where are you?" I yell back at him.

"Behind you."

I look back and there he is, giving me that same grin from before as he tails my back wheel.

"Wanna race?" he asks, and I nod, not finding anything weird with the fact that he somehow moved from miles and miles ahead of me to suddenly behind me. "There's a river up there," he tells me, lining up his front tire with mine as we continue to glide through the trees. "First one there has to buy the shakes next time we go to The Ring, got it?"

I nod. "Got it."

Hiccup counts down, and at three, we both bolt forward, leaning against our handlebars to move faster than the other. To my surprise, I'm winning, somehow managing to have a good couple of feet on him. I can hear him laughing behind me, which gets me laughing to.

After what feels like only a minute, I come into a clearing, the sun almost blinding me as I pull to a stop. Placing my hand above my eyes to block the sun out, I see that I've stopped on a surface made completely of rock, small wedges looking like miniature rivers carves through them by water. Suddenly I feel something moving around my ankles, and I look down at my feet to see that, yes, I'm standing in what appears to be a river, only the water is just about an inch high. I look around, letting this fresh air and sound of water lapping against the rocks sink into my skin. The stream appears to go on forever it seems.

"This is amazing," I whisper mainly to myself, but then I remember that Hiccup's here too, probably enjoying the scenery just as I am. "Isn't this amazing, Hic?" I ask him, turning to face the break in the trees that we both entered from. Instead of coming face to face with Hiccup though, like I had expected, my eyes meet with a dark, shadowy figure, standing where Hiccup should be standing. There's no face on the form, no resemblance to a human at all besides two arms sprouting out if it's sides.

"W-who are you?" I somehow manage to say, feeling the words escaping my throat like wind. "Where's Hiccup?"

The figure doesn't say a word, but begins moving slowly towards me. As I look past it, I see, near the entrance to the woods, a familiar body speckled with brown spots, motionless green eyes staring back at me. The intense feeling in the back of my head presents itself again as I register what I'm seeing, feeling like knives are being stabbed into my scalp. I fight back a scream, but I can feel it burning in my throat as the figure moves closer to me, raising one of its hands out towards me, it's long, clawed fingers beckoning me towards it.

I'm about to yell at it to stay back when my vision goes black only for a moment. Then, suddenly, I'm underwater, all sounds around me cancelled out. In the distance - above the water it seems - I hear a scream; one long, shrill scream that makes the back of my head feel like it's being torn in two.

I open my eyes, dismissing the darkness around me, and I'm lying in my bed, panting harder than I've ever panted before.

"Jack?"

My neck snaps in the direction of the voice, and I see Emma, dressed in her purple nightgown, standing beside me in my bed, her long, brown hair sticking out on its own in some places. Her eyes are large and wide awake as she stares down at me, like she just witnessed me doing something she never wanted to see.

"W… wha's goin' on," I slur out, pressing my hands against my eyelids to stop the stinging. "Why are… where is…"

"Shhh, Jack. It's okay, it's okay," Emma soothes me, taking a seat on the bed beside me and pulling her small fingers through my hair. "It was just a silly nightmare, that's all. You're okay now."

"A… a what?" I ask, looking up at her through the darkness.

"A nightmare," she explains. "It's… it's like a dream. Only… only it's bad."

I nod my head up at her, the word suddenly registering in my mind. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what it was. It was… it was a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Without my knowledge, my head shakes on its own, and I decide that not talking about it is probably for the better. The last thing I want to do right now is have to relive what I just had to experience, be it real or not.

"Do you want me to stay in here with you?" Emma asks quietly. When I nod, she removes her fingers from my hair and wiggles herself into the bed beside me, scooting me over so she can fit. I move, pulling the covers around her small body.

"Will I have another nightmare if I go back to sleep?" I ask her once she's all settled in.

Her tiny shoulders move under my blanket. "Maybe. Maybe not. You may have another, but you could also have a good dream. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it, Jack? Sometimes talking about it helps them go away."

I contemplate this notion for a moment, but I decide to shake my head again at her request. "Not tonight," I tell her through a small yawn. "I just… I don't want to think about it."

Emma nods in understanding, and snuggles in close to me, curling her legs up close to mine beside her. As I feel her finger at my loose shirt, I wrap my arms around her small form, pulling her into me, and close my eyes.

"Thank you for being here," I whisper into her hair.

"Anything for you, Jack," I hear her whisper into my chest without missing a beat. I make sure she can feel my smile through her hair, so she can know how much those sweet words mean to me.

As Emma and I eventually doze off in each other's arms, I fall back into a deep sleep. Only, this time I don't have a nightmare, nor do I have a dream. Instead, all I see is darkness around me, but it's not the bad kind of darkness; it's the comforting kind.