Darian

I was normal. At least, I was closer to normal than I had ever been before. I went to school, got good grades, and had a few close friends to invite over for movies on my sixteenth birthday. Being the female lead in our school's production of Seussical Jr. was just a bonus to all of this and had come as a welcome surprise, since it had been my first real audition since sixth grade.

Of course, normal was relative (the spider and the fly and whatnot), especially in the theatre program, where it was considered normal for a red-headed senior boy, our resident costumer, to wrap a tape measure around my hips and waist while simultaneously draping me in different colored feather boas. I cringed every so often at his proximity (I had this thing about personal space, you see), and while my best friend Miranda sat in a chair and laughed at my discomfort, she also squeezed in some gentle reminders that this was a necessary evil and that it would all be over soon.

"Soon" ended up being twenty minutes later after Jared had finished taking all of my measurements and explained to me the design of my costume. I was to be dressed modestly in a pale blue dress to contrast with June's (our Mayzie) vibrant red costume. Jared released me to work with June for a while, and Miranda and I walked out to the parking lot together like we did every day after rehearsal, where she would wait with me until my mom picked me up at the usual time and she left to drive herself home, having already gotten her license.

The whole event was very routine, very boring, but it was normal, and for now, that was enough for me. There had been a time just a few weeks before when my life had been routine and boring but slightly less normal, but that could be up for debate because again, normal is so very relative (cats and mice and all that jazz). I still went to school, still got good grades, but I was much quieter and shyer with Miranda being the only person I felt comfortable calling my friend. I never got lead roles because I was too scared to audition, and I had assumed that people hated me because I was too scared to talk to them. I was still very scared sometimes, but something had changed. For me to get outside my comfort zone, it had taken a week with my cousins in Burgess and a Christmas present from a magical boy.

No. No. No. He didn't exist.

My mom arrived at her usual time, and I turned to Miranda, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Miranda laughed. "Didn't ya hear? It's actually supposed to snow tomorrow. We might not have school at all!"

"I wouldn't hold my breath," I told her, rolling my eyes to disguise my nervousness. Yes, I had checked the weather this morning and saw the progress of the winter storm that was supposed to descend upon Georgia, but I also knew that it rarely ever snowed in our town, and even when it did, it rarely ever stuck. Even more, I actually didn't want it to snow, which was odd considering it was the one thing I had written down on every Christmas wish list since I was three. Truthfully, I loved the snow. I loved how fresh and clean it made everything look, and I loved how the sun sparkled off of icicles, but now I knew of a certain person who was no doubt in the center of the storm, and I had no desire or intention of running into him again.

There was a time during my two periods of normalcy where my life had definitely not been normal, when I had spent that week in Burgess with my cousin Jamie and met his best friend, who just so happened to be the mischievous Winter Spirit Jack Frost, who took me flying and introduced me to a world of legends and fairies and monsters that tried to destroy my happiness. We laughed. We cried. We…kissed…

That was all behind me now. It was nothing. It never existed.

"Aw, come on! Have a little hope!" Miranda insisted.

"I tried that once," I called over my shoulder as I walked to my mom's car. "It didn't agree with me." I shut the car door behind me.

Jack

"I don't want to see you again!"

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up straight on the tree limb I had been resting on. While I had slept, the snowstorm around me had softened, so to get my mind off my dream, I whipped it up a bit until everything around me blurred into whiteness. Wrapped in my own isolated world of snow and ice, I slumped back against the trunk of the tree.

I was stalling, I knew. Immortals didn't really need sleep, yet I slept anyway, and because I had been dodging the Guardians for a while to take some time off for myself, I never really got dreams, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same images over and over again. They made up something that resembled a Nightmare more than a dream, but I knew Pitch was not involved in this in any way because those images weren't just flashes of a dream; they were memories.

I could never forget the way Darian had looked at me that day at the airport. She was so sad, so hurt, so angry, and worst of all, she was so, so afraid. Afraid of me? I wondered constantly. Then, she had left, and although I knew that it was completely irrational, I suddenly felt more alone, more dejected than I had in a very long time.

I spent many nights wondering just what had happened. One minute, everything was going just beautifully. We were happy. The next, well, I don't really know. She just told me that she never wanted to see me again, and coming from the first believer that was around my age (give or take 300 years or so), that stung more than I ever thought it could. Then, she ran. She ran away from me.

Jamie, of course, knew something was wrong with me almost immediately after that morning in the airport, despite my attempts to wear a brave face around him. He asked me if I was alright whenever I smiled, and instead of answering, I would start up another snowball fight. I just couldn't stand to lie to that kid, my first believer, my brother. I couldn't.

Jamie, Mr. Last-Believer-On-Earth, didn't give up so easily, though, and I endured several attempts by him to get me and Darian to talk to each other again. I wanted to. I really did. I wanted to be with her, even just as a friend, but every time we tried, some excuse would pop up, usually something silly or just a very transparent lie, and Darian would be gone before I ever saw her.

I was starting to lose hope when Jamie came up with the brilliant idea of sending her snow on her birthday. She had loved seeing all of it in Burgess because it rarely snowed in her hometown in the South, and we agreed that sending me down to endure the heat to kick up a little Winter weather was the perfect birthday present from the two of us. It had seemed like a great plan at the time, and impulsively, I jumped at the chance to see Darian again. It hadn't occurred to me until just recently that this might not have been the best idea and that instead of bringing her happiness, I might only frustrate her. She had made it very clear that she didn't want to see me anymore, and she was always very strict about people respecting her personal space and privacy.

And so I had ended up in a tree in the middle of nowhere, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do next. It wasn't like I didn't have the time. Darian's birthday wasn't for another two days.

If I went up to her after all these weeks, what would I even say? Should I try to make a joke or just say hello and hope she wouldn't punch me in the face again? Or maybe I should keep it short and simple, say, "Happy Birthday," and fly off.

Even something as simple as that worried me. I might only end up alienating her further by refusing to respect her request. Maybe I just wouldn't appear at all. I could bring the storm, write a birthday message in the frost on her window, and leave before she ever saw me.

Of course, I could always just do nothing and let her be. I could even turn around, redirect the storm, and head back to Burgess. The only problem with that was that running away wouldn't solve anything for either of us.

I couldn't leave things the way they were, with her tragic face burned permanently into my mind while I wondered what I had done wrong. What had I done to make her fear me? I shuddered. If there was anything worse than not being believed in, it was being feared. I remembered a confrontation with Pitch Black almost three years ago where that had come up as an option, and I had decided that it was actually a fate worse than death.

I had to go. I had to do something about this situation, and even if she did hate me for it, I would at least know for sure how she felt, if she was scared or as confused as I was, if she, too, had Nightmares about that day. I hadn't been sure about what we were to each other for a long time, and looking back, Christmas Eve had only complicated things further for us.

I took off in the direction of Darian's hometown, figuring that I would probably make it by the next afternoon. I just had to know. If I couldn't fix the damage between us, I had to at least try and stop it from spreading.

Well, this was going to be fun.

Darian

I got off the school bus and looked up at the grey clouds. They hadn't dissipated all morning, and snow was still in the forecast for the day. I tried to tell myself to calm down. They wouldn't have scheduled school with a winter weather warning if it was serious, right? We'd had threats like this before, and every single time, it either didn't stick or passed right over us. I tried to tell myself that's all it was. I would happen just like it did before.

Of course, before this year, I hadn't personally known the actual Spirit of Winter. I caught myself peering over my shoulder as I walked down the hall to my first class, as if he might just pop out of a classroom or out of a locker or even out of nowhere at all, or worse: what if it ended up being Pitch instead of Jack?

I had made a deal with the bogeyman, though it had felt like a deal with the devil, himself. As long as I pretended that the world of magic didn't exist, that Jack didn't exist, he would spare me endless torments in my Nightmares. He had made it sound so simple: break Jack's heart to save my own, considering that Jack was an Immortal and a true relationship was actually impossible. At the time, I hadn't realized that in breaking Jack's heart, I was breaking my own, creating my own torture. It haunted me every day, and I wondered sometimes if it was worse than Pitch's most malicious Nightmare. I couldn't escape this, not in daylight, and especially not beneath the Man in the Moon's watchful gleam.

I clutched my red coat, dull beneath the dingy fluorescent lighting, and drew it tighter around myself. There seemed to be a certain chill in the air that wouldn't disappear even indoors. The usual hum of conversation in the halls was dimmed as students clamored anxiously around windows, willing snow to fall from the dangerously dark clouds.

I took my seat in first period and realized that I was shivering, and no matter how much I rubbed my arms, the goosebumps would not go away. I wasn't cold; I was frightened.

Alone in the classroom, I prayed that nothing would happen. I prayed for safety. I was terrified to the point of tears, and I knew exactly why. If Jack showed up, I didn't know what to do.

Would Pitch be understanding? After all, it wouldn't be my fault if Jack was being stupid and impetuous again, but Pitch hadn't seemed like the most reasonable being on the planet. My mind drifted back to those awful nights without my permission, when Jack had not been around to protect me and I had been victimized for being his friend, or maybe more than a friend. I wasn't sure.

And how could I get rid of Jack again? If he hadn't listened before, was there anything I could say to get rid of him permanently, and more importantly, would I have the heart to say it? I still saw his eyes, brimming with tears, boring into my own as he tried to figure out if I was lying. The image of his heartbroken face was branded into my mind, forever a reminder of the selfish choice I had made. How could I put myself, put him through all of that again?

The answer really was simple. I couldn't.

I just wanted to get through this day without incident. I wanted to wake up the next morning and see that the storm had passed uneventfully. I wanted to put on my costume of normalcy and act like my world wasn't spinning out of control.

I wanted that bell to go ahead and ring already so I could get this over with.

Amazingly, I still jumped at the sound of the bell, even though I had been anxious for it for what felt like eternity. I looked around and realized that I was no longer alone. Other students had joined me while I had been lost in my thoughts, but they were all hushed and staring intently out the window while I made it a point to keep my eyes forward, focusing on a specific smudge on the whiteboard.

I went through the first part of the day mechanically, unaware of anything going on in my classrooms, even ignoring what was being taught. It was funny how all-consuming fear could be, how it could control my actions and my thoughts and make me numb to the rest of the world. Few things broke through my stupor: a school bell, being called upon by the teacher, my lab partner burning out the bottom of a test tube, etc. Besides those few things that jolted me violently back to reality, everything went by in a blur of indistinguishable images.

Before I knew it, it was the middle of the day, and I was sitting next to Miranda in chorus class. I didn't realize she had spoken to me until she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"What?" I grumbled, surprised and embarrassed at how hostile I sounded. Miranda picked up on it and held up her hands defensively.

"I was just tryin' to tell you happy early birthday. Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," she told me.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed sadly. "Sorry. I'm really sorry. I just didn't really sleep at all last night," I admitted quietly. Although I had gotten much better at the whole "making friends" thing, Miranda was still the person I trusted most, and what others may find weird about me, she understood completely.

Her expression softened as she asked, "What's goin' on? I thought you hadn't had too many Nightmares lately."

"I haven't, really." Pitch had said that he might allow me some reprieve now and again, but otherwise, my Nightmares were to continue as normal. So far, as long as I held up my end of the bargain, he held up his. "I've just had a lot to think about."

"Maybe you just need a break or somethin'. I guess this snow day came at a good time for you."

"No," I groaned, shaking my head in my hands. She was trying her best, I knew, but I couldn't really tell her what was wrong without risking looking completely insane, even though she was my best friend. "I really do not want it to snow."

"Why not? I thought you loved it."

"It's just…" I began, fishing for reasons why. "If it snows, we'll have to add on extra rehearsals for Seussical, and on top of that, there will be extra homework, and the roads will be too icy for anyone to come over for my birthday, and let's face it, there's never enough to build a real snowman, but you know every kid in the neighborhood is going to be singing that Frozen song anyway, and –" I cut myself off, realizing that in my haste, I had rambled and probably stuck my foot in my mouth several times. I felt my face burn crimson, but Miranda only raised an eyebrow at me.

"Just calm down, okay? You're over-thinkin' everything. Again." This drew a chuckle out of me. "Look, I'm gonna be at your house on your birthday no matter what the weather, got it? And we can build ourselves a height challenged snowman and scream that song at the top of our lungs." We both laughed at that, but I could sense that Miranda wanted to say more, that she suspected something else was wrong because I was such a terrible liar, but luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you view the situation), she was interrupted by June bursting in dramatically through the chorus room's outside door.

"It's snowing!" she practically screamed. Everyone except me immediately leapt out of their seats and stampeded towards the door. I simply froze (pun completely intended), vaguely aware of Miranda tugging on my arm and leading me out the door. No. This couldn't be happening.

All of the students were dancing around the nearest section of the school's parking lot, stretching out their arms and tongues to catch the faint snowflakes fluttering through the air. I felt them brush my cheeks and melt into something like cold tears on my face. It won't last, I tried to tell myself. It will pass, just wait and see.

I glanced to the side and saw that wasn't the case. At the edge of the parking lot, the dead brown grass of the front lawn was already spotted with small patches of white. Against all odds, the snow was sticking. Looking up, I saw the delicate, sharp icicles accumulating on tree limbs.

Laughing at the wonder of it all, Miranda spun around to face me, and I watched her smile fade as I found that I could not conceal the horror on my face. I could not dredge up enough wonder or hope or fun to fake even the smallest of smiles. There was only fear. "Darian? Are you okay?" she asked, but her voice felt far away, an echo from a distant world. I felt sick. The air was freezing and made it painful to breathe.

Finally, our teacher herded us back inside. Reluctantly, I sat down, ignoring my heart hammering against my ribs and my mind and muscles screaming at me to run, to get as far away as possible. I had to try very hard not to cry.

The principle's voice came on over the intercom, announcing that school was to be cancelled for the rest of the day. I silently gathered my things to head to the cafeteria and wait for my bus, but Miranda laid a hand on my shoulder before I could walk out the door. "I could drive you home, ya know? Spend the night maybe?"

"No," I said too quickly. If anything happened, no matter who showed up, Miranda couldn't be around for that. Miranda looked a little hurt. I tried to make something up that sounded reasonable. "I just don't want you to get stranded at my house or anything. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"See ya tomorrow, then," she replied.

The bus ride home was one of the most unpleasant I had ever experienced, and as far as bus rides go, that's really saying something. As usual, there were middle-schoolers screeching and seat hopping and high-schoolers shouting across the bus at each other, and then there was me leaning my head against the chilled window and tapping my leg nervously to the beat of my heart. At one point, I tried humming some of my solos in Seussical to try and calm myself down, and it worked up until we pulled into my neighborhood and I caught sight of my house.

It was snowing heavier when I got off the bus. The flakes were much larger. I had to force myself not to run into my house to escape all of the snow, knowing better than to tempt fate with all of the slippery patches of ice around. After what felt like an eternity, I climbed the steps to my front porch and pulled on the door, only to find that it was locked. A neon pink sticky note that had obviously fallen from the door was now stuck in a spider-web by my shoes. I knelt down to read it.

"Went to the store, just in case," I read aloud. I groaned inwardly, conflicted as to whether or not that was a good thing. With my mom at the store and my dad at work, they wouldn't be around in case something did happen, but what if something happened simply because I was all alone? I sighed heavily, knowing that there was nothing I could do about it at this point, and unlocked the door with the hidden key underneath the mat.

The house was cold, and I saw that the door to the back porch had been left open for the cat to wander in and out of. I checked and made sure that she wasn't outside before closing the door and turning on the thermostat. I sat on the couch and dumped my backpack on the floor beside it. Absentmindedly, I shed my shoes and my coat, and when I was done with that, I simply stared straight ahead, twisting a lock of hair around my finger as I wondered what I should do next. I contemplated turning on the television for a distraction, but in the end, I remained consumed in my own thoughts. Besides, the ticking of the clock was already loud enough.

Eventually, I lay down and closed my eyes, but I didn't dare try to go to sleep. There was no way of knowing what lurked in the shadows of my mind at that moment, and I didn't even have to go that far to see Jack's face. He was right there, as always, right when I closed my eyes, and I only wished I could make him understand. I only wished that I didn't have to hurt him. I only wished that he would just go away.

I couldn't have been twenty minutes before my cat was pawing at my face, begging to be let out on the porch where her litterbox was. Slowly, I dragged myself off the couch, rubbing at my weary eyes as she meowed at me to move faster. I watched her circle around my feet and wind her way between my legs, and I laughed as she flinched at the cold air when I opened the door before tentatively stepping outside, jumping whenever her tail brushed against a patch of snow. I smiled at her, and before closing the door, I looked up to see how the snow blanketed my yard like it hadn't in ages, and only then did I realize how much my timing sucked.

I caught sight of him just as he was landing on the railing, looking just as surprised to see me. He said my name, but something inside me seemed broken, and I couldn't hear it. I could only stand there and stare at the person whose image I had just been grieving.

He looked absolutely the same. His hair and smile were the same brilliant white as the snow behind him, and his eyes were still unnaturally blue and still looked at me in that completely beautiful way that made me uncomfortable. He even wore the same blue hoodie and clutched the same twisted staff.

My mouth fell open, and I felt his name on my lips, but I couldn't make a sound.

Jack Frost.

(Hey! Long time no see! Welcome to the first chapter of the requested sequel to A Christmas In Burgess! Many thanks to those who have followed this story from its humble beginnings and have encouraged me along the way, and welcome to any new readers! I hope you like it! A few things about this story: We will still get points of view from Jack and Jamie, but most of this story will focus on Darian, since I see this as more of her journey into the ROTG world, and to those of you who have complained about the style of the story in the past [you know who you are], I will say that I considered switching because I admit that there are flaws to it, but for the sake of continuity, I decided to stick with it. For the next couple of weeks, I will try to update this story every other week until we catch up to where I have written ahead, at which point there will be a hiatus as I take time to write the next couple of chapters. As for my Frozen Family fans, fear not! The story will begin updating again next week and will continue every other week until its completion. That's all for now! Be sure to favorite, follow, and review, and Happy New Year!)