Woo! Yeah! Finally an update!
I don't even have an excuse, guy. Well, besides that this chapter is just super long compared to previous ones, but that's about it. Sorry nevertheless.
Srry about Jack's real name. I know some people were a little iffy about his real name not being Jack, but I just felt that making him have a "birth" name and then a name he chose for himself was important; kinda differentiate the two sides of him from each other, you know?
Thanks for all the lovely reviews and what have you. You guys are incredible for sticking with me this entire time. Like, how do you guys even do it?
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I'm lying on the living room couch, a book that lost my interest a long time ago being held over me. Neither of my parents are home, having driven off to work hours ago, and Ms Bennett had come home early to celebrate her birthday with her kids, dismissing Tooth and I of our babysitting duties. I had been a little disappointed with the change in plans, since spending time with Jamie, Sophie, and Baby Tooth has become a distinguished upside to my schedule - playing with them reminds me so much of the days when it was Emma - God, how I miss her - I played with.
Not to mention Tooth always being around is great, laughing every time I lose to Jamie during a video game session and giving me adorable looks whenever I make voices to match Sophie's stuffed animals.
Keeping my affections for Tooth locked away like this is even more frustrating than when I had just realized I had feelings for her. There are times when we're watching movies with the kids when I steal a glimpse over at her, snuggled up with Baby Tooth under a blanket. At those moments - seeing her sitting there with her head resting on the top of her sister's, her dark legs curled up against her as she absentmindedly toys with her hair - that I want to tell her just how beautiful she is. I don't though, knowing that that would be very out of place, not to mention unprofessional.
Tooth had told me she couldn't to hang out as we leave the Bennett's house. Apparently her mother had asked her for some help with their garden back at home, so she had to obey, which I suppose I understood.
And now I'm here, desperate for a distraction from my boredom and unsure of where to find it.
I'm about to wish again for something - anything - to happen to get me off the couch when, like an answer to my pray, I hear three sudden knocks on the front door. The noise scares me, making me drop the book flat on to my face.
It ends up being Hiccup, which catches me completely off guard. Him and my front porch are two things I've never really mixed together before, so seeing it for the first time is a little baffling.
He responds to my perplexed greeting with a smile that can only be described as hopelessly awkward. "Uh… hi," he manages to get out. "I hope your parents aren't home," he continues, looking a little rigid as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair. "That'd be…uh… bad."
A laugh escapes my mouth before I can reply. "No, you're all good. They're at work."
"Oh, good," he exhales, letting his tense shoulders relax. "I didn't see any cars in the driveway, but I didn't know if your parents, like, actually use the garage or whatever, because my dad definitely doesn't and neither does anyone else in this town really, now that I think about it, so maybe they were just parked in there or-"
"I hate to interrupt this monologue of yours," I break him off with a smirk, "but, um… what are you doing here? Don't you have lawns to mow?"
The freckled boy catches on to my lighthearted jab, and is quick with a comeback, like usual. "Well, first of all, I get off work at around noon, and if I remember correctly," - he whips out his phone in one swift motion and checks for the time - "it's currently three. And second of all, I'm surprised you even know what the word monologue means. Good job."
"Of course I know what it means. It's a prolonged talk or discourse by a single speaker, especially one dominating or monopolizing a conversation."
"Okay, now you just sound like you're reciting the dictionary."
"So?"
"So, I'm no longer impressed."
"I'm sorry, but what are you doing here again?"
The cheeky grin he usually wears when we're messing with one another - and when he's usually one upping me - slowly slips from his face, which in itself tells me there's something wrong.
"Well, uh… ha," he beings, reaching up and running his hands through his disheveled hair again. "I was just wondering if… uh… if we could, y'know… hang out?"
"Why?"
He lets out a tsk sound, giving me a mocking cynical look. "Wow, do I actually need a reason to hang out with you now? Have you gotten just that popular?"
"You'd be surprised."
"I bet I would be. But seriously. Can I come in or what? It's like bein' in an oven out here."
That's when what's going on finally hits me like a hammer: Hiccup is standing here on my doorstep, completely without consequence, and both of my parents are out of the house and aren't due home for a nice handful of hours. And he's asking me if he can come inside to hang out.
"Sure."
By compete accident, I end up giving Hiccup a tour of the entire lower level of the house. I slid in and out of each separate room, telling my curious friend everything I can about each as he follows closely at my heels. He seems to be being extra cautious as we go from the dining room to the living room, making sure he doesn't leave a mark that would indicate his presence, just in case my parents are able to somehow tell later on.
"Sorry for totally intruding on you, by the way," Hiccup casually says as we're making our way up the stairs to finish off the tour in my bedroom. "I should of called or something beforehand, given you some sorta warning."
"Yeah, a warning for you coming over and ruining my day would've been nice," I throw at him.
"Okay, now you're just being mean, Jack."
"What? I learned from the best."
"Changing the subject," - he playfully bumps shoulders with me in his defense - "don't you have a little sister? Ella or something like that."
"Yeah, but she's away at camp right now. And her name's actually Emma, not Ella."
"Ah. Close, but yet so far."
"Actually, I think Ella was pretty clo-"
"It's a saying, Jack."
"Ooooh."
We eventually make it to my unkempt room, me doing my best to kick all the dirty clothes littering the floor under my bed before he enters after me. I hear him chuckle at I try to scoop some trash sitting on my desk into the trash can, but he otherwise doesn't seem to mind any of the mess I have laying around.
After being in my room for only a series of seconds and taking a peculiar interest in my bookshelf, Hiccup's head turns towards me and states with a disapproving tone, "Dude. You barely have any books."
I peer over at my barren bookshelf behind him to see that he's correct; five or so hardbacks lean against each other, all being supported by my snow globe of the little village imbedded in thick snow.
"Is this a bad thing?" I ask.
"It's a bit concerning, yes." He turns his head away from me and goes back to observing the content of the shelves, moving on to check out my stereo, something my father brought home with him one day and gave to me. He shakes his head and adds, "And will you look at that. Only three CDs in the rack. That's a pretty depressing music collection you have goin' on there."
"I just put those CDs there because the rack looked so empty," I explain to him simply. "They're actually my father's. He's letting me borrow them."
Hiccup takes it upon himself to open the CD case resting on the top of the rack, the plastic casing making two sharp pops as they're pried open with his fingers. He flashes the case over towards me, an unsatisfied expression on his face as he shows me that it's completely empty.
"Well," I go. "That's embarrassing."
"Yeah, I'm definitely gonna loan you some music, for sure," he tells me with a sigh, shutting the case and slipping it back into the rack. "Maybe even some books. Yeah, I definitely have some books you might like."
He goes back to checking out the rest of my room after that, asking me for stories behind some of the more quirky items that are just lying around. I tell him I don't really know the significance of most of them - that I more of just came with them - and he doesn't say much to that.
"Hey, Hiccup?" I ask as he picks up the hockey puck from my nightstand and throws it from hand to hand. When I see that I have his attention, I continue. "Why are you here?"
He looks a little taken aback by the question, and not in a good way. I had hoped he would take it like he takes a lot of other things - lightly, maybe even a little jokingly - but he doesn't seem to be taking it like that at all. Instead of his usual smirk, ready to deliver a clever comeback, he looks vulnerable, maybe even a little threatened.
"What? Do I need a reason to be here or something?"
I shake my head quickly, wanting him to see I meant no harm by the question. "I just… you've never tried to come over before, you know. Why now?"
The familiar look from when I had answered the door makes another appearance on his face. He's suddenly not able to lock eyes with me and his hands won't seem to stop messing with the bottom hem of his shirt.
"You can tell me what's wrong," I remind him, taking a seat on my bed.
"There's nothing wrong," he mumbles back a little too quickly.
"And you seriously think I believe that?"
He looks up from the ground and his eyes meet mine. I can tell by what they hold that he really does want to talk about what's on his mind; he just doesn't know how to explain it.
"Did something happen with Astrid?" I try to get him going. "Did you guys get in a fight or…"
"No, no," he finally speaks up, shaking his head. "It's…it has nothing to do with her."
"Then what is it?"
He reaches up and grabs the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed as if he's deep in thought. I want to say something more - to encourage him to explain further - but I'm afraid that I may do just the opposite if I get too pushy.
"It's… it's Lout," he finally says with a sigh following the name. "He… he challenged me to a race, and… and I'm gonna have to race him and stuff."
Millions of things I could possibly say go through my mind all at once, but they all move so quickly that I can't decide on which to actually say out loud. He takes a seat on the opposite side of my bed, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging.
"Are… are you scared?" I ask.
To my surprise, he actually laughs a little at the question, something I hadn't expected him to do, considering his current state. "Honestly? Not really. I've been putting up with Lout since we were kids, so he really doesn't scare me anymore. I think… I think I'm more of just nervous about it all, y'know? Like… this is it. This is my one chance to prove myself, and if something goes wrong, then, well, that's it. And knowing me, something is bound to go wrong."
"That's not always true," I defend him from himself.
He turns to face me, giving me a flat look that I know is him telling me to shut up.
"But it really isn't this whole racing Lout things that's been bugging me lately," he goes on. "Stuff… stuff with my dad's been kinda tense lately too."
"Your dad?" I ask, not expecting that to be a reason for him being down. From what I've seen and heard of Mister Haddock, he seems like an alright guy. Yeah, maybe a little impatient and demanding, and maybe not around for his son as much as he ought to be, but I would've never expected there to be any real tension between him and Hiccup.
"He's really hung up about my future," Hiccup explains, sounding a tad bit discontented about the fact. "He really wants me to take over for the family business once I'm done with school, but, it's like… I don't want to, y'know? And though I've told him that several times, he just doesn't seem to really understand where I'm coming from. He thinks that if he doesn't just hand me my future himself, then I'm just gonna… I dunno, waste my whole life away riding bikes and reading books and thinking instead of doing. It's like, you know, I'm a thinker. I like to think about things. It's fun for me. But it's like… he doesn't get that. He's all action, right? And I can tell he wants me to be like that too, y'know, like him, but it's just… I'm not. I'm not like that and he doesn't seem to understand that.
"Like today, for example. He came into my room and told me he wanted me to help him clean the garage, right? For the first hour, things were actually… well, they were actually really nice. We were talking about some of the old stuff we were finding and it was really relaxing, and I liked it. But then he starts asking if I've finished my summer homework yet, which led to him asking me about school and what classes I'm taking next year, and that led to just my life after school in general and what the hell I'm going to do with myself. Next thing I know, we're fighting and he's getting all upset and asking me what's wrong with me, and I feel like I'm about to explode, right? So I just leave. I just grab my bike and leave him there, yelling at me to get back, and just… the first place I thought to go to was your house. So there. That's why I'm here. I-I just needed somewhere to go where I don't have to think about my dad and how much trouble I'm going to be in when I get home later today, okay?"
Hiccup lets out a long sigh, like his body's expressing how relieved is it to have finally been allowed to get all that rage out. I'm searching for words to say in response, but all I can concentrate on is the way he's pinching the bridge of his nose again, his eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders tensed.
"That was a really long monologue," I end up saying without thinking.
Hiccup, to my surprise again, lets out a laugh at this. He turns to face me, his freckled skin blotched slightly red. "Puts my earlier monologue to shame, doesn't it?" he asks with a weak smile.
I nod, returning it.
"Things used to be so different," he tells me, rubbing the back of his neck. "Back when my mom was around… she understood, y'know? Like, she got how I worked, why I liked what I liked. She was a thinker too, like me, so she would listen and remind my dad that it's okay that I'm the way I am.
"But ever since… I mean… it's not that I don't think my dad loves me or anything, because I know he does. I mean, if he didn't, he wouldn't be making such a big deal about my future, right? But it's like… I think he doesn't know how to really show it, y'know? Not like how my mom used to at least. She was always really encouraging and telling me that I was going to grow up and do great things, and my dad doesn't even really bother to ask me how my day went or how I feel or anything. It's… it's all really frustrating."
"Have you ever thought of just talking to him about it?" I suggest.
Hiccup rolls his eyes at me. "What do you think I've been doing all this time, Jack?"
"No, not like… no. I mean… okay, so… you've been telling him that you don't want to take over the family business, right?"
"Riiiight?"
"So, instead of just tell him 'I don't want to take over the family business because I have all this other stuff I want to do with my life', try showing him what you mean. Like, explain to him why you like biking and reading and thinking. You say he doesn't understand why you like that stuff, and, well, maybe all he needs is for you to get him to understand."
"My dad's really close minded," he warns me, looking skeptical at my idea.
"Yeah, well, so's my mother," I remind him. "I've been trying for the last couple of weeks to convince her that biking really isn't that dangerous, and more importantly, that you're not a bad guy who's only here to try and get my back in the hospital, but she just doesn't seem to… want… to…"
As Hiccup's eyebrows furrow at me trailing off, asking me if I'm alright. The truth is, while I was talking, lose ends in my mind start to click with other lose ends that I hadn't thought they would click with. The parallel between Hiccup's father and my mother suddenly becomes obviously apparent - so apparent I want to ask Hiccup to smack me for not seeing it earlier.
"You have to meet my parents," I say in barely a whisper.
Hiccup apparently hears me, because he I hear him say, "You're kidding me."
I shake my head, looking up at him, a bewildered expression on his face. "It's the only way, Hic. I need to prove to her that you're not bad, and you meeting her is the only way to prove that. It's like what I was just telling you. You need to show your dad that what you want to do isn't a waste of time, and I need to show my mother that you're a good guy. She won't listen to me tell her that you are, so the only way to get her to believe me-"
"Is for her to meet me in person," Hiccup finishes.
"Exactly."
"Not gonna lie, Jack, but I don't really wanna meet you mom. She seems kinda scary."
I attempt to give him the best puppy dog eyes that I can manage, something Emma used to do to get me to do what she wanted. "Do it for me? Come on, Hic. For me."
"Ugh."
"Pleeeease?"
"Stop making that face and fine, I'll do it."
I clap my hands together out of excitement, jumping up and down a little on my bed, which causes Hiccup to bob as well. He throws me a glare that's only on the verge of bursting into laughter, but that only makes me want to jump harder, so I follow my instincts. Unexpectedly, the small boy dives across the bed like a cat and tackles me off the edge and down to the ground, causing me to let out a startled yelp. As I struggle to get my bearings, I hiss up at him, "That wasn't fair! I wasn't ready!"
"Tough luck!" he laughs as he leaps up off the ground, totally unharmed. "You need to always be prepared for an attack at any time. Gotta live life on your toes, my friend, that's what I always say."
"You're a cheater, that's what you are."
"Oh yeah? Well, there's only one way to settle this." Before I can ask him what he's talking about, he darts out of my room and down the hall, the sound of his feet pounding against the wooden floorboards getting more distant with every thud. As I yell after him where he's going, his distant voice responds with, "Get your bike! We're gonna settle this like men!"
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Getting my feet off the ground and on to my bike's pedals is exactly what I need to lighten my mood. Beating Jack in our race along the outskirts of town definitely helps too.
We mainly glide through the streets after that, stopping every once and awhile to catch our breaths or to allow Jack to check out new things he's never seen before. When the beating heat of the sun starts to have an effect on us though, we both agree that there's only one place to go to cool down.
The Ring is pretty much deserted as we roll into the parking lot. I see a majority of the waiters and waitresses sitting lazily at unoccupied tables, fanning themselves with the plastic menus as they idly chat with one another. As we hook up our bikes, Jack points out two familiar blondes, both sitting at our usual table
Fish is the one that sees us walking up first, since Astrid has her back towards us, using her hand as a fan to cool herself down. The burly blonde flashes us a bright smile, his thick arm flying up into the air, waving it around frantically like we're not only a couple of yards away. "Hey, you two!" he greets us happily. "It's really hot out here, isn't it?"
"Oooh yeah," I agree as Jack and I take our seats across the small table from them. "I don't think anyone in this town is necessarily built to have to deal with heat like this." Taking a look around the restaurant again, I'm reminded that every chair is empty, all the customers that would normally be resting in them probably safely inside their homes, away from the influence of the weather. "Are you guys even open right now?"
Astrid slowly shrugs her bare shoulders, leaning back in her chair and rolling her bladed feet back and forth underneath her. "Officially, yes. But judging by the customer turn up and staff willingness to work… not so much."
"At least you don't have to work out in the heat, like Hic and me," Fish confesses with a sigh. "Mowing today was like torture."
Astrid takes up a defensive look, the annoyance at this comment in her eyes. "Hey, do you see any walls here? I'm workin' outside too, just like you dorks are." Her sharp eyes then land on Jack, sitting quietly beside me, and she sweetly adds, "Not you, Jack. You're not a dork in my book."
Jack sends her an appreciative smile, tipping his head to her. I roll my eyes and flick him on the arm under the table, which I see only makes him smile bigger.
"Anyways," Fish chimes in. "We were just talkin' about you, Hiccup . Before you guys got here."
"Only bad things, I assure you," Astrid tacks on nonchalantly.
"Were you guys talking about the race with Lout?" Jack asks, readjusting his seat in his chair by bringing one his legs up to his chest. "We were talking about that earlier too."
Astrid raises an eyebrow, clearly finding this piece of information interesting. Fish, on the other hand, takes a nervous peek over towards the group of restaurant employees lounging near the ordering station. "Are you… y'know… scared?" he asks me in a near whisper.
"Why is everyone asking me that?"
"Because you should be scared," Astrid answers, and Fish backs her up by nodding.
"He's more nervous than scared," Jack decides to answer for me, despite the fact that I wasn't going to say anything in the first place. "He's had to put up with Lout for so many years now, so he really isn't scared. Just nervous that he might mess things up."
"Really?" I go, slumping down in my chair, my face growing hot as I shoot him a look.
Jack looks down at me, confused. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No, you said exactly what needed to be said," Astrid reassures him, a smug grin on her face that makes me wish I could either somehow disappear or make Jack take back what he had said. "I suppose what you really need, Haddock, is a confidence boost."
"Oh, is that right?"
"Yep. And Fish, Jack, and I here are gonna help. We're gonna push you so hard, you're gonna wish you had never taken a seat on that bike of yours in the first place. Isn't that right, Fish?"
Though Jack looks like he's totally on board with this plan - probably happy to hear he'll be able to get some sweet revenge on me from back when I was teaching him to ride his bike - Fish appears a little nervous. "Now, I-I don't think you should put it like that, Astrid. That's a little-"
"If you wanna beat Lout," Astrid goes on, ignoring Fish's protest to her choice of words, "you're gonna have to be good. And I mean really good. Like, mad good."
"Hiccup's already a really good biker," I hear Jack back me up, making me feel a bit better.
Astrid smirks in my direction. "I'll be the judge of that."
It doesn't take us long to leave after our agreement - or rather their agreement, seeing as I never actually agreed to it. As soon as Fish finishes the milkshake he had earlier ordered, Astrid goes off to ask her boss if she could get off work early, considering the complete lack of business. Her boss, a hefty woman sporting a name tag that reads Phlegma, just waves her off towards the three of us guys, unhooking our bikes, obviously too affected by the heat to care.
The first place Fish suggests we go is the skate park, but Astrid and I quickly shot that option down. Not only is the skate park too small to race in, but there's a fine chance that Lout and his gang might be already be there, and that's a chance none of us are willing to take.
Going to the racing grounds is also an idea that Jack suggests, him saying that practicing on the actual track I'll have to race on would prove beneficial - a word I didn't even know he knew and am silently proud of that he does. That idea is shot down as well though, considering how long it takes to get there and the current time.
The town of Berk's very streets are our last and only option. Though the roads may be cemented and straight - the complete opposite of the racing ground's - we decide it's better than nothing. .
We lay out a route, starting at Berk High and going around the edge of town. We agree on streets we'll go down, going through the residential part of Berk first, then heading straight through the downtown area, in between City Hall and general stores. It's a clear shot after that, heading towards where my dad works, then towards The Ring, around the corner, and right back to Berk High.
"You ready to feel the wrath of the Deadly Nadder, Haddock?" Astrid asks me as she double checks her brakes and the security of her fingerless gloves.
Assuming that I don't have a say in who I'll be racing against today, I line my front wheel up with hers, spitting back some sort of comeback that I myself can't even make out - the idea that I'm actually about to bike with Astrid Hofferson for the first time in my life is eating up my brain to the point where I can barely think straight. She laughs at whatever I say - thank the gods I don't say something ridiculous - and as Fish takes his place a couple of yards away, raising his hands high above his head, I refocus myself on the matter at hand. This may not be a real race, but I'm not going to take it lightly.
"Alright, you got this, Hiccup!" Jack's voice goes from the sidewalk. I look over to see him standing upon the brick wall circling the school, his hands, like Fish, high above his head. His white face is shining bright as a toothy grin appears, directed towards me. "Make her bite the duuuust!"
Astrid beside me lets out a huff, signaling that Jack may have just been added to her list of dorks.
Now that I think about it… I suppose I don't have to take this practice race that seriously.
Fish's large arms come down, and Astrid and I push forward at the same time. She ends up having the advantage though by the way she leans forward before I can, causing her to glide ahead of me in the first couple of seconds.
"Hiccup! Really?!" I hear Jack yell from the sidelines.
"Yeah, I know, I know!" I yell back, whizzing away from where he stands and pumping my legs in attempt to catch up with my opponent. So far, this mock race isn't looking too good for me.
Astrid's a lot faster than I anticipated. I try several times to speed pass her, since my bike is more light weight compared to hers, but she's always one step ahead of me. She cuts me off, fakes me out, and makes me feel stupid for not seeing it all coming. Every once and awhile, I notice her look back over her shoulder, a mocking grin plainly visible on her face. I find it hard to be upset at the fact that I'm losing, since I'm honestly just pleased that I'm actually biking with her in the first place - though I know I need to try and beat her, just so she won't get on my case about it later.
Since I'm straggling behind her for the first duration of our race, not only am I able to admire her as she gracefully shifts and moves her body on her sky blue and yellow painted bike, but I'm able to observe her foot and hand work. As we pass by the last house on the street, the fire station coming into view and signaling that City Hall is right around the corner, I notice one of her weaknesses. I have to act on it fast though, because if my timing is off if only by a second, I could jeopardize the entire race.
The turn is upon us, and Astrid does what she usually does by staying on the yellow, dashed line in the center of the road. At all the other turns like this one before, I had copied her, following her motions and staying close to her tail, but this time I branch off. I maneuver myself to the left of her, closer into the turn, and make a sharp curve around the sidewalk's corner. I put everything I've got into my legs, pushing me faster with a burst of energy, and as the both of us come out from our turns, I rocket in front of her, cutting her off and leaving her in my wake. I get the urge to look back as I continue to barrel down the street - to send her the same mocking grin she's been sending me this entire time - but I fight it. I've got to win this race.
Several times Astrid attempts to regain her lead, but now I'm too fast for her. Whenever she's able to get right alongside me, I always push forward, surprising her with my hidden speed. By the time we zoom past a cheering Fish and Jack, both jumping up and down on the sidewalk, hooting and hollering my name, I'm a good fifteen yards ahead of her and my legs are beginning to feel like jelly.
Jack is the one that greets me after I skid to a stop. What I had been expecting to be just a normal high five and a "good job, man!" turns into the white haired weirdo colliding with me into a bear hug that nearly snaps me in half. My body tenses up though, and he lets go immediately, looking worried as his blue eyes grow wide and he asks, "Oh, sorry! W-was that okay? That I did that?" I simply grin up at him and tell him that, yeah, it was okay.
Fish's congratulation is a surprise to me too; he swoops in from below, wrapping his thick arms around my chest, and lifts me clear off the ground in a hug that puts Jack's earlier attempt to shame. "You did it, Hiccup!" he shouts, his grip tightening a bit before clumsily releasing my from his hold. "You beat her, you beat her, you beat her! Oh man! What I would do to be able to see the entire race! You probably, like, totally tricked her out and, woah, are you okay?"
I take another deep breath, allowing the oxygen to refill my lungs before answering. "Yeah, yeah. You just… dang, Fish. You don't know your own strength, do ya? You could've killed me in that hold if you felt like it."
The large boy's whole face turns red, but he manages to smile and say that he's sorry and that he's also really proud of me, even if it was only a practice race.
"Is it just me," Jack suddenly speaks up as the red in Fish's face fades, "or does Astrid look really, really, reeeeally uh… oh, what's the word?"
When I look over Fish's square shoulder, in the direction Jack is pointing, I see a practically steaming Astrid, marching her way in our direction, fists clenched and shoulders rigid. The closer she gets, the clearing her furrowed eyebrows and piercing eyes are, and the more I want to book it in the opposite direction.
"Lethal?" I suggest.
Jack shrugs. "I don't know what that word means."
"Oh boy. Astrid. You need to. Calm. Down." Fish's attempt to sooth her, but fails, despite the fact that he's heroically put his entire one hundred and eighty pounds self in front of me as protection. I guess Astrid is pissed off enough to shove her way right through him though, since the next thing I see is her face right in mine, and she's yelling through her teeth, "How the hell did you do that?!"
I back pedal some, Jack and Fish both proving to be super helpful by scurrying out of the path of the bitter girl, leaving me vulnerable to her attack.
"I had you! I had you, I swear!" Her lips curl in frustration, a look I recognize all too well. The night at Raven Point comes clearly back into my mind; her stance, her anger - it's all the same, and that scares me. We've made so much progress lately - she even considers me one of her friend now. The last thing I want is for all that to go to waste, especially over some dumb race. "And then you just… how did you do that? If you cheated, Haddock, by gods, I will-"
"You take wide turns!"
I expect to hear her continue to yell at me, tell me all sorts of things that'll just put us back where we were a couple of weeks ago, but it never comes. Instead, there's just a silence pause, and I think that maybe time is standing still in my favor when I hear Astrid breath out a quiet, "What?"
Putting my hands done warily, seeing her less murderous look, I repeat myself. "Y-you take wide turns. You did it the entire race, even before I got in front of you. I-I was able to pass you by taking a sharper turn and cutting you off. You… yeah. Wide turns. Please don't hurt me."
Her blue eyes continue to stare into me, like she's trying to look into me and see if what I'm saying is actually true. I look over at Fish and Jack for help - anything - but they just shrug in response. Turning back towards Astrid, I find that she's still hard to read, so I don't know if trying to comfort her or just saying sorry would be wise, since this girl could easily snap my arm in half if she really wanted to.
"You… you figured that out… just by watching me?" she finally speaks up. Her eyes and lips no longer look as ferocious as before, so I take this as a good sign that it's safe for me to answer.
"Well, yeah," I go. "You can't win a race with just being fast, you know."
"It's true!" Fish chimes in, sensing the hostility level from before going down to where he'd be safe. "You have to know your opponent, see what you opponent sees, and call what they're going to do. If you wanna win, I mean."
"And you got all that just by watching me?" Astrid asks again, her voice more even now.
"Yes, Astrid. I just… I watched you and was able to predict what you were gonna do next. It really isn't that big of a deal."
"Yes, it is," she tells me.
"What? Why?"
"Because Lout's painfully predictable."
"Wait? Really?"
"That's… that's actually true," Jack confirms for me as he joins us, his eyes seeming to recall whatever memory he has that supports this claim. "When I raced him, I could tell a lot of the stuff he was going to do before he did it. It was just that one time I wasn't paying close enough attention when he… well, you guys know."
"He's a show off, remember?" Astrid tells me. "He likes to make everything he's gonna do known."
"And with your observant eyes and smart brain, you could use that to your advantage, Hiccup!" Fish cheers, slapping me on the back so hard, I almost fall forward into Astrid. "Huh. I guess this race just got easier for you."
"He's still as strong as bull," I point out, which causes Fish's smile to fade a bit.
"Strength isn't everything," Jack reminds me.
"Yeah. We'll see."
"Maybe there's something we could do to your bike," Fish thinks out loud, turning towards said bike and walking towards it. Jack joins him quickly, saying something about booster engines, which makes Fish crack up.
"Anyways," Astrid says, clearing her throat and flipping her unruly bangs out of her eyes. She looks uneasily towards the two other boys, checking out my bike and making outrageous plans for it. "Sorry about, uh… all… all that. I just… you know…"
By the stuttering and the not-being-able-to-make-eye-contact-with-me, I can easily tell she really is embarrassed about the scene she had made earlier. I allow myself to smile, assuring her that when I say, "No, it's, uh… it's fine," I really mean it.
"You, uh… you did well," she goes on, straightening up and sounding more business- and Astrid-like. "You're a lot faster than I thought you'd be, that's for sure. And obviously more skilled."
Any acceptance I could give besides a simple "thank you" seem like a bad idea in my mind at this point, considering words and I don't work that well together when it comes to girls I like saying I'm good at something. So I settle for a simple thank you.
She shrugs, flipping her braid over her shoulder and acting like it's no big deal, then swoops in and sportively punches me in the shoulder. "You could work some on your, uh… your handle work though. Sometimes you were just kinda everywhere. You gotta find one route to follow and stick to it, alright?"
"Alright," I go with a smile, rubbing my shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind."
Astrid goes off to collect her bike, lying discarded in the middle of the street, and Fish follows after her, reciting some more useful biking tips that he thinks she ought to know. Jack is still stationed beside my bike as I approach it, a large, goofy looking grin on his face that kind of freaks me out. I'm about to ask him what he's so smiley about when he, out of nowhere, simple says, "You two are so cute."
I know exactly who he's referring to and she standing no less than twenty yards away, within ear shot. "Ugh, Jack," I hiss up at him. "Just… no. Don't go there."
"But you guys are!" he laughs, reaching out and pinching my cheek. I swat his hand away, which just gets another laugh out of him. "Her face turned red when she was complimenting you. I saw it."
"T-that doesn't mean anything."
"You face is turning red right now."
"That doesn't mean anything either."
"Yes, it does. I looked it up once. Blushing is an involuntary reaction where the capillaries that carry blood to the skin widen, causing the skin to appear red, increasing blood flow to the face, as well as sometimes the-"
"Jack, I didn't ask you to explain how blushing works, alright? Now can we please just drop it?"
He just sends me a smirk, Astrid and Fish now making their ways towards us.
"Whatever you say, Hic."
.
.
Each of us all race a lap against Hiccup again before calling it a day. He easily beats both Fish and me, but Astrid makes it more difficult for him their second time around, their race resulting in a tie. Though Fish and I hadn't been there to witness it firsthand, Hiccup tells me that she had improved on her turns, making them a lot sharper and harder for him to cut off than their first time around.
As Astrid and Fish bike off in one direction, Hiccup and I go off in the other, towards his house I suspect. I think about asking him if it's alright that I tag along, but judging by the fact that he hasn't brought it up and is looking so casual - like me following him home is what we had planned on earlier today - I assume that it's fine.
His house is definitely a lot smaller than mine, but I suppose that makes sense, considering it's just him and his father living in it. The light, wooden home appears welcoming to me from the outside, all the windows having been propped open and the melody of some sort of strange sounding music I've never hear before leaking through them. Hiccup, on the other hand, doesn't act as though he's as welcomed; when we roll down the driveway, dodging two cars in the process, he looks more on edge than relieved to be home.
"Well, of course Gobber's here," I hear Hiccup mutter under his breath, dismounting his bike and leaning it against the garage door. Since I can't find anywhere else to put it, I do the same.
"Who's Gobber?"
"He's my boss and one of my dad's friends. My dad always invites him over when he wants someone to complain about me with. So I guess I shouldn't be too surprised."
He leads me through a stubbornly jointed gate and into a very diminutive backyard, coated mostly in shrubbery and plants. As soon as Hiccup slides open the glass door on the deck, a wave of abhorrent noise greets us, reminding me a lot of the sound a lawnmower makes when it's run over something other than grass.
"What is that noise?" I shout, covering my ears in attempt to keep it out.
"That, my friend, is the sound of bagpipes," he fills me in. When he sees me covering my ears, he grins and adds, "You'll get used to it, I promise."
We enter the house, and as Hiccup is sliding the door behind us shut, I see the heads of two large men, both sitting in what I assume to be the living room, exchanging words I can't overhear. One I recognize instantly as Mister Haddock, with his heavy, reddened beard and tree trunk thick arms sitting in an armchair next to who I assume is Gobber. The music is so loud, neither of them turn and acknowledge our presence.
Hiccup tip toes past me and towards the two of them, leaving me in the kitchen to observe. He crouched down, first looking towards me and pressing his finger against his lips, then silently scooting himself into the living room behind the back of the couch, so his father won't see him. Once he's directly behind Gobber, he quickly springs up, leans across the back of the couch, and yells into the man's ear, "Why do bagpipers always walk when they play?!"
That gets both the men's attentions, that's for sure. Mister Haddock, who actually jumps in his seat, looks at his son like he's ready to snap, an expression that makes me feel uneasy not only for Hiccup, but also for myself. Maybe following Hiccup home wasn't the best idea, especially considering the feud going on between him and his father.
Gobber reaction though makes me feel a little better; he seems pleased to see Hiccup leaning over the couch addressing him.
"Why?" the large, blonde man asks with a heavy accent I've never heard before.
"To get away from the noise."
Mister Haddock doesn't even blink at the joke, which causes the unsettling feeling to return to me. Gobber though lets out a laugh that quite literally shakes the entire house it's so loud. As he's telling Hiccup through chuckles that "Aye, that was a good one, laddie," he looks over Hiccup's shoulder towards me, still stationed in the kitchen. "Say," he goes with a smile that reveals to me his missing bottom tooth, "you're the boy that's livin' in ol' Mildrew's house, aren't ya? Overland, right?"
As I nod my head, walking into the living room to join the three, Mister Haddock turns in his seat. Now that the two men's eyes are fixed on me, I feel not only unsettled, but also incredibly out of place - more so than I thought I'd be. From how Hiccup put it earlier, Gobber is an old family friend, which means that him and Hiccup probably have a history. The only relation I have to either of these men is that one is the father to my best friend, while the other runs the business that provides care of my family's yard. And not to mention the fact that I've never actually been in the presence of either of them until now.
I stuff my hands into my pockets, needing to give them something to do to ease the awkwardness I'm feeling. I suppose Hiccup notices this, because he says, "Gobber, Dad. This is Jack. He moved to Berk at the beginning of the summer. Jack." He turns back towards me, sending a small, supportive smile my way. "That's Gobber, and that's Dad."
I remove one of my hands from my pocket to give them both a wave. "Hi, Gobber. Hi, Dad."
That gets another good laugh out of Gobber, and I even hear Hiccup chuckles a little beside me. Mister Haddock, however, doesn't seem at all impressed; all he's doing it staring at Hiccup, who's refusing to look in his direction, I can tell, probably thinking of all the things he wants to say to his son right now, but can't.
"You stayin' for dinner then, Jack-o?" Gobber asks without missing a beat, getting up from his seat on the couch with a grunt. "I brought som' food ova, and there should be enough for all of us."
It's then that the thought of my parents - both due home any time now - enters my mind and the absolute horror I know my mother will feel when she sees that I'm not there. I can't say no to this meal though, not now that Gobber's pulled out some delicious looking meat that smells just so good. Adding on that Hiccup has this look on his face that's encouraging me to stay, probably wanting my protection from having to confront his father, how could I possibly say no to the invitation?
The four of us all eat together at the wooden table in the kitchen, at first in silence, but then Gobber takes it upon himself to interview me on what seems to be like every aspect of my life. He asks me where I'm from, what my parents do, and I try to the best of my ability to give him truthful answers. I have to improvise as I go though, since I honestly don't know where I lived before moving to Berk or what my parents do for a living. I begin to feel more and more comfortable in my surroundings with the more harmless questions Gobber asks me. Hiccup, to his own credit, even helps ease the pressure some too, inserting his two cents and just making me feel like I belong here. I'm not sure if he's meaning to do it or it's just natural for him, but nevertheless, I'm thankful.
Mister Haddock doesn't say much the entire meal. Gobber's the one going on and on, asking me questions and telling these outrageous stories that make him break out in his thunderous laugh and make Hiccup just rolls his eyes. All Mister Haddock does is eat his food, every once and awhile looking up from his plate to peer over at Hiccup sitting across the table from him. Hiccup's still refusing to meet the man's eyes though, so as the dinner goes on, Mister Haddock seems to be getting more and more impatient. I want to say something, to tell Hiccup to just talk to him already, but I feel like that'd be out of place for me to do.
Eventually we finish eating, and Mister Haddock tells Hiccup in this silent yet forceful way that he's going to have to be the one to do the dishes, since he has something he needs to show Gobber before he leaves. Hiccup, thankfully, doesn't protest and gets right to it, me volunteering my help only a moment later, since washing the dishes is my job at home too. As I hand the first dish to Hiccup, I notice Gobber and Mister Haddock disappear into the garage, talking in lowered voices that make it to where I can't apprehend what they're saying.
The two of us talking artlessly as I pass him dishes and he tries his hardest to scrub the sticky meat plastered on to the plates off. I ask him how long he's known Gobber, and he tells me since before he was born, which I tell him doesn't make sense, to which he just rolls his eyes to. He explains to me that Gobber and his dad have been best friends since high school, and that the two are, to a certain extent, inseparable. Mister Haddock helps Gobber out with running his many businesses around town, while Gobber helps Mister Haddock with raising and understanding Hiccup.
"He wasn't around as much as he is now when I was younger," Hiccup tells me as I pass him the large mug that Gobber has been sipping out of earlier. "It was after… well, after Mom died that he started coming over more often. My dad was a real mess afterwards, y'know, so Gobber kinda took me under his wing for a while. Even after Dad put himself back together, Gobber just stayed around, helped raise me, in a weird kinda way."
"Soooo, what? You have two dads?" I ask him.
He splashes some water my way, a couple of drops managing to land on my shirt before I'm able to dodge them. "Yeah," he tells me with a smirk. "Something like that."
"That must've been really interesting for you growing up."
"Let's just say that I've been given two very different sex talks, alright?"
I furrow my brows at the unknown phrase. "Sex talk?"
Hiccup's green eyes become wide as he says, "Oooooh nooooo."
"What? What is it?"
He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his dish washing. "Nope, nope, nope. I'm not gonna be the one to tell you what that's all about. Nope. No way. I'll leave that to your parents."
Once all the dishes are cleaned and stored safely in the drying rack by the sink, Hiccup asks me if I want to see his room, to which I accept.
"Since your room was pretty messy, I'm just not even gonna worry about you judging the state of my room, alright?" he asks as he leads me up the stairs. I'm about to ask him what he's talking about, but when both walk through the threshold of his room, I understand exactly what he meant.
His room is a lot like him. I can't necessarily say how it's like him, but there's just some sort of charm to it that makes me feel like this is the kind of room that Hiccup would have. The forest green painted walls are covered head to toe in posters and sketches, most of them pinned up above the messy desk in the corner. His bookshelf puts mine to shame with how many books he has stored in its selves; a pile at the base of the shelf, stacked at least five books high, has formed, since there's no more room in the actual shelves. His bed is unmade - something my mother would explode on me about - and clothes and trash litter the wooden ground.
"This room suits you," I tell him as I notice the small height measurements etched into the frame of the closet door. The most current one is marked at five six, and a darker mark is etched a good handful of inches above it; it looks about the height of Lout, not going to lie.
"Uh… thanks?" is all he says in response before making his way over to his bookshelf. As he's going on and on to me about some of the books he was thinking of letting me borrow, I hear a small noise come from behind me. I turn, not seeing anything at first, then I peer down and come face to face with a black cat, it's piercing green eyes staring observingly back up at me.
"Hi cat," I say to it, crouching down like I do when I'm addressing Sophie or Baby Tooth, extending my hand down to pet it on the head.
"Oh, that's Toothless," I hear Hiccup tell me, not even bothering to turn away from his bookshelf. "I wouldn't try touching him if I were you. He's kinda weird about strangers."
I pull my hand back just in time, for this Toothless cat - who actually has teeth, oddly enough - pounces forward and tries to take a snip at my fingers. "Thanks for the warning there," I mumble, getting back up.
Hiccup says something in response, but I don't hear it, because the framed picture on the nightstand grabs my attention. As I get closer, I'm about to see that it's of a man, broad shouldered and as big as a mountain, standing alongside a women with auburn hair, much smaller in comparison to him. In her arms is a small boy, matching colored hair and large green eyes, freckles sprinkled all over his round, smiling face.
"Is this you?" I ask.
I hear Hiccup turn, and though he doesn't say anything for a beat, he eventually gets out, "Yeah… I found that while I was cleaning out some cabinets downstairs the other day. Totally forgot it existed."
I study the women carrying the younger him. "And this is your mother?"
He doesn't say anything, just nods.
"You look a lot like her," I tell him with a smile.
He tries to smile back, but I can tell he's having a hard time. "Yeah... I used to get that a lot."
I want to ask what he means by "used to", but then I think what those words mean and stop myself. "Used to" is past tense, which means that, whoever his mother is - or, I suppose, was - she's no longer around. He's hinted at her absence a couple of time today too - when we were in my room earlier - but by the way he doesn't elaborate on his own, I don't think he necessarily wants to talk about it. Maybe he will some other time, when he's ready.
Instead, I ask him about Toothless, who's perched on the pillow of the bed now, giving me an baneful stare that warns me to get nowhere near him or else. Once Hiccup takes a seat on the bed though, the cat joyfully jumps into his arms, nuzzling his head against the boy's chest, a series of purrs escaping his mussel. Since he's preoccupied by Hiccup's coddling, I take that as my chance to steal a seat beside him without getting bitten or scratched.
We talk for a while, mainly about the practicing we did earlier today and the big race coming up in just a week. The more we talk about it, the more comfortable Hiccup seems to be getting with the idea of racing against his cousin. I just hope the entire time we talk that I don't slip up and say something to him that'll cause him to take a step backwards. With the race so close, that's the last thing he needs.
Eventually I have to leave, despite the fact that I don't want to. His clock reads seven thirty, which is well after my mother and father get home from work, so I know I'm already going to be in a lot of trouble when I walk through the front door.
"Just go straight to your room," Hiccup tells me as we bound down the stairs, five books he's letting me borrow cradled in my arms. "If they try talking to you, just pretend you didn't hear them. That always works for me."
Right as I'm about to tell him that that doesn't sound like a very well thought out plan, a deep voice says, "I'll be sure to remember," before I can. As we reach the ground floor, Mister Haddock is sitting in the same armchair as before, flipping through what I think Emma told me was called a newspaper. I can see him sending Hiccup a look I can't read from the corner of his eyes, and that uneasy feeling from earlier comes back to my stomach.
"Jack's going home," Hiccup tells his father quickly, a squeak escaping somewhere in there.
Mister Haddock looks towards me, and though I hadn't been expecting anything from him on the news of my departure, he nods his head once and says, "It was nice meeting you, Jack."
"Uh, yeah… it-it was nice meeting you too, Mister Haddock," I manage to get out. I feel Hiccup grab my arm and begin pulling me towards the front door, moving quickly as to get out of the same room as his father as soon as possible.
"Is everything going to be okay? I mean, when you go back in there," I ask, grabbing my bike from where I left it against the garage door. The white van, which I assume was Gobber's, that had been parked in the driveway upon us arriving is gone, leaving only Mister Haddock's car and our two bikes.
"Yeeeeah, I'll be fine," Hiccup assures me, though the tone in his voice tells me otherwise.
"Talk to him," I remind him, trying to sound stern, but coming off more timid. "The more you put this off, the worse it's going to be."
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, Oprah."
"Who's Oprah?"
Hiccup gives me a blank stare, sighs, and says, "Just… I'll see ya whenever, alright, Jack?"
Though this is definitely not the note I would like to leave on - him being annoyed with me for being pushy about his father - I don't protest.
"Yeah. See ya."
The entire time I bike back home, the street lights all steadily beginning to flicker on above me as I pedal down the street, I can't help but think about Hiccup's mother. I don't know anything about her - all I know is what she looks like, really - but Hiccup had made it sound like he had had a very deep connection with her while growing up. And even though she's... well, wherever she is, he still harbors that same connection with her, despite her being gone.
I wonder how I would feel if my mother were to be absent like that. Would I feel the same heaviness that Hiccup feels towards his mother no longer be around? Would I miss my mother like he does his?
The first word that comes to mind is "no", and that scares me.
I shouldn't feel that way, this much I know. A mother is supposed to be someone that loves and cares for you, someone you can always go to when you're in distress. Sure, sometimes they can cause you some grief, but everyone has the potential of doing that.
I have to fix this gaping hole that's formed between my mother and me, not just for me, but also for Emma's sake. I want her to come home in a week to a happy home, not a house split in two, forcing her to choose between her own mother and brother. I need to take my own advice and talk to her about the issue at hand, make her see my side of the story and finally get this whole thing all figured out. A relationship with my mother is important - Hiccup has shown me that much - and I need to take advantage of the fact that I actually have one to be there for me.
I don't even bother putting my bike in the garage on arriving home. I lean it near the front door and go straight inside, readying myself for the hurricane that I know is about to come crashing down on me.
As I close the door, placing the books in my arms down on the stairs, I hear the sound of a chair scrapping against tile floor from the kitchen, followed by the sounds of hurried footsteps coming my way. My mother is the one that comes marching into the foyer, and as I open my mouth, ready to explain myself, she yells, "CHRISTOPHER OVERLAND, WHERE ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN?"
Saying I'm a surprised by the foreign name being used to address me would be an understatement. I can tell my mother is just as stunned by it as I am, but she doesn't let it phase her; she continues to hold that same solid glare, burning into me with each step she takes in my direction.
"I… I was at Hiccup's," I tell her plainly, trying my hardest to stand my ground.
A horrified expression replaces her hard look. "You… you were… J-Jack… how could you? We trusted you not to leave, and you just… you…"
"I had to leave," I try to tell evenly, though I can hear the shaking in my voice. "I couldn't just… I'm sick of being locked away in this house, okay?"
"We let you leave to go babysit the Ms Bennett's children though."
"That's not enough. I… I wanted to see my friends."
"But Jack…"
"No. Don't… just… listen to me for a second, alright? I know you think that keeping me locked away from him is going to solve all your problems, but it isn't. If anything, it's making things worse."
My mother shakes her head, a saddened frown on her face as she closes her eyes like she can't believe what she's hearing. "Jack, stop it. You don't know what-"
"I'm just… I'm going crazy here, alright? I don't know who I was before all this mess, but I know that he and me weren't meant to be locked away like this. We were meant to go out and talk and have fun and make friends."
"Jack-"
"Listen. I know you're just trying to keep me safe, and I completely understand that, trust me, I do. But you need to realize that… well… by doing that, by keeping me away from every dangerous person and thing, you're not helping me. One day I'm going to leave. I mean, in just a month or so, I'm going to have to go to school all by myself, and I won't have you to watch over me every second of the day. Right now, by hanging out with Hiccup and Fish and Astrid, I feel like I'm not only learning how to take care of myself, but… but I'm also making friends."
Something at hearing this makes her hard face soften, even if it's only by a little. I decide to keep trying to get through to her, since I feel like I've finally hit a cord.
"I have friends, alright? I was… I had been so scared about making friends when we first moved here, because… well, who would want to be friends with someone as weird as me, right? But look! People actually want to be my friend! Astrid told me she doesn't think I'm a dork, Fish laughs at a lot of my jokes, and Hiccup… geez, he calls me his best friend! These three actually like having me around, and you're just… you're telling me that I need to just give up on all of them? Just because of some stupid accident that only left a scar on my cheek?"
"It could've been worse," my mother tells me, only it's in a whisper so weak I barely hear it.
"But it wasn't," I remind her. "You're completely making what happened seem so much worse than it really was."
"I just don't want to lose you, Jack…"
That's when I see the first tear fall, making its way down her cheek and getting whipped away by her shaking hand. As her shoulders tremble and she wraps her other arm around her stomach, acting as if she's attempting to keep what she's feeling inside of her, I realize that it isn't Hiccup that makes her so upset, but the thought… well, the thought of losing me.
What have I done?
"You're not going to lose me," I tell her calmly, approaching her and resting my hand on her shoulder, trying to stop them from shaking.
"How can you even promise me that?" she whispers. I can tell by the look in her foggy eyes that, more than anything right now, she's just plain exhausted.
"I can't," I admit. "But you can't keep me here like this. I have to go out and live."
She seems to be thinking this over, not looking up at me or at her own feet, but rather somewhere in between. She bites her lower lip, a pool of tears welling up at the rim of her eyes. Seeing her cry like this is killing me, and the fact that I think she's finally seeing my side of the argument is making this even harder for me to watch. I'm about to reach forward and wrap her into a hug, in an attempt to comfort her, but she's the one that moves first. As I feel her thin arms tighten around my waist, I'm surprised to see that she stands an entire head shorter than me - something that had never registers until now.
"I'm so sorry, Christopher," I hear her say into my chest through her tears.
I tighten my hold around her, closing my eyes and burying my face into her shoulder.
"It's okay, Mom."