Chapter 1

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Jack had to wear braces if he ever wanted to have perfect pearly whites like his father. And, joy of joys, he'd had to have them put in the day before he'd transferred to his new high school. Not that he'd cared all that much, since he was all but invisible anyway—no one would even notice that he was around, never mind that he had metal lining his teeth. Or at least that was what he had figured would happen. But then things in his life had a habit of going pear-shaped on a relatively regular basis.

Three days into his new life at Berk High he had run into one Hiccup Haddock—literally. With his backpack slung over one shoulder, his arms full of books and his ipod blaring alt rock into his ears (the crowded hallways made him nervous sometimes and the music was his way of coping with the uncomfortable feeling), he had banged his locker shut with shoulder and turned around—only to slam directly into another person.

Not the first time he had bumbled into someone else. He had more than his share of clumsy moments. Still, the collision forced a surprised yelp from Jack as he bounced off the other body and stumbled backward. He automatically threw his arms out to try to catch himself, making his books fall and scatter against the floor, but despite that he still managed to trip over his own feet and land on his butt on the scuffed linoleum, flailing like an idiot the entire time.

"Four eyes and you still can't watch where you're going? That's pretty damn pathetic."

The voice was only audible because one of Jack's earphones had popped out during his tumble. His glasses had also been jostled downward, leaving him half-blind, and he pushed them back into place, jamming them up to the bridge of his nose hurriedly. "Sorry, I—s-sorry! I wasn't looking!"

"Yeah, duh, that's what I just said. Apparently you're deaf, too."

Jack was already scrambling to gather his books, trying desperately to avoid getting stepped on in the process, but glanced up fleetingly, just long enough to acknowledge that he had heard the mocking comments before returning his attention to plucking his texts from the ground. He was reaching for his history book when a foot connected with his hand, catching three of his fingers and forcing an involuntary hiss of pain from this throat.

Unexpectedly, the voice that had been previously making fun of him piped up again, snapping this time, almost angry: "Hey, watch it!"

Blue eyes blinked from behind thick glass and Jack jerked in surprise when a face abruptly came into view. Thick, unruly auburn hair and a slightly rounded face, more piercings and freckles than he could count and the most astonishing green eyes, narrowed in a faintly displeased expression—and Jack realized he was staring. He swallowed thickly and looked away.

"If you don't get off the floor, you're gonna get trampled, dumbass." The other boy muttered, and shoved a book into Jack's hands.

Flummoxed, Jack accepted it wordlessly and added it to the pile he had finally begun to accumulate. Eyes darting upward again, he took in the brunet's athletic appearance and punk-style clothes before clearing his throat and hurrying to pick up the now-collected tower of textbooks. "Uh, thanks. And sorry. And thanks." Hurrying to stand, he pushed himself up—and actually managed to bang his forehead into the other's chin.

"Jesus, are you serious?" The stranger rubbed his jaw, then reached and smucked a hand into the side of Jack's head. The blow wasn't hard enough to hurt, but Jack got the point anyway.

"I am so sorry!"

"Whatever, dork."

Green eyes rolled and the next thing Jack knew he was being hauled to his feet. Stumbling a little, he fell back against the lockers, barely managing to keep himself upright. He steadied himself, then hiked his backpack up his shoulder and shuffled slightly, doing his best to avoid eye contact. The other boy, though, clearly wasn't going to be accommodating. Rather than leave, he stayed where he was, eyeing Jack sharply.

Finally he spoke again. "What's your name, kid?"

"Uh... Jack." He mumbled, wishing he could just get on with going home. His music was still blaring in one ear, but it wasn't helping with the awkward, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach at all.

"Jack what?"

"Frost. Uh, it's Jack Frost."

There was silence, followed by a bark of laugher. "You're shitting me. Your name is Jack Frost? You're serious? Jack fucking Frost?"

Jack just frowned a little, eyes sliding back to look at him. He was surprised to note that the other boy seemed to be just a touch shorter than him. "Yeah, Jack Frost." Then he swallowed, and tried to put a firm tone to his next words, "got a problem with it?"

The brunet's eyebrows shot upward at that, and a smirk began to turn up the corners of his mouth. He licked his lips, the motion absent, and the edge of a tongue stud glinted in the fluorescent hallway lights. "Heh. Trying to be tough now." A quick movement and he had one arm up, half-pinning Jack between himself and the lockers. "That's cute, Jack Frost. Real cute."

Feeling trapped, Jack shifted from one foot to the other and back again, gaze darting as he looked for an opening to escape. "I, uh... I've got to go." He tried, "s-sorry again."

The smirk just widened. "Hiccup."

"I—w-what?"

"My name. It's Hiccup."

And then, before Jack could begin to wrap his head around that, the brunet just stepped back again, leaving him with plenty of room to flee, and turned to leave. One hand lifted in a half-wave as he headed down the corridor, the crowd of students parting like water in front of him, scurrying out of the way as he passed.

Jack was still for a long moment after he left, just staring after him blankly. Then one hand lifted to push his glasses up again, more out of nervous habit than a real need to adjust them.

Hiccup? And he made fun of my name.

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