-- NEVER SAY NEVER [Jack]

[LARK MARIE HARPER]

Girls. They were meant to be a subject in school just so everyone could understand them, including themselves. They were a constant conundrum, a mystery, an ever changing wind that was damn near impossible to predict. One minute a light breeze, the next a full blow hurricane. Lark had the temper of a hurricane, but she was a very simple creature. She liked what she liked, wanted what she wanted, and did not change a damn thing for anyone else’s pleasure. If you did not like her, who cared? She sure as hell didn’t. What made you so special that you thought Lark Harper would change just to make you happy? Surprisingly, as the brunette stood in front of her mirror, she realized that obviously someone was special enough to put the most masculine female into a dress. A dress. And not just a dress, but high heels. Not only that, the girl had her hair up in some sort of messy hairstyle that she found to be appropriate (and did not require vast amounts of time to work on), and even took time to spruce up what little make-up she wore on a daily basis. It was not much because that would simply be overkill to what she was already wearing. “I feel like a fuckin’ poodle…” Lark grumbled to herself as she turned and looked at the back of the dress. It was quite revealing, which made her feel susceptible, but she had to admit at least it wasn’t ugly.

Oddly enough, even though she was rarely on good terms with her mother, they somehow came about on the discussion of the school prom. Her parents both knew it existed and happened around this time each year, and so of course they took to asking Lark about it. The brunette tried to deny being asked—it would not be much of a shocker anyway, given her personality and limited number of friends—but they somehow managed to pry the information out of her. Despite the relationship with her parents, both of them were strangely excited about the girl going with Jack. It was a bit unnerving, to say the least. What was the big deal? They were best friends! Of course they would wind up doing things like that together on occasion when they did not have other dates. Although…she would not have been able to go had it not been for him asking. She was only in tenth grade, and thus had to be invited to join. Lark wondered why Jack invited someone like her to go in the first place. It was not her thing, and it made her feel out of her element. But it was Jack. Had it been anyone else, the brunette would have instantaneously said no. For some reason, when it came to Jack…she simply could not bring herself to do so. It was unexplainable, and annoying.

Eventually the girl finally grew bold enough to make her way down to the mess hall. Her stark white dress stood out quite well contrary to what she originally thought, and most of the room seemed to slow down at they stared at her. ”Is that Harper?” she heard a random voice reach her ears, bringing her attention towards the right side of the room. Some of them looked shocked, others disappointed (for reasons unknown to her), and the rest merely blinked at her in attempts to absorb the image of Lark dressed up. Now she felt vulnerable, and exposed to the rest of the world. Why…why am I doing this again? The girl asked herself for at least the tenth time in the past thirty seconds as people began to dissipate once again to do their own thing. The breath she had been holding released itself after a moment or two. Once Lark’s thoughts began to clear, and her focus put itself back together, she told herself, You are doing this for Jack. The only guy you would do this for. Now suck it up! As if actually listening to herself, Lark straightened up and stood right outside of the mess hall doors, looking around anxiously for Jack. Her date. The word date…it sounded so…non-best friend like. But that was indeed what she was, and that was how she would try to act if she could help it. It was only for this one night—what could it hurt, right? Nothing was going to change. Little did Lark know that by merely putting on that dress, something changed, even if only slightly.

[jack]

Jack laid on his bed for a good a hour before getting up to get ready. The dance. The prom. Geez, never in a million years would he have thought he would have a date to any dance. Let alone a prom. He sat on his bed, twirling a ball of fire around in the air. He scratched the back of his head as he thought about Lark.

She was his best friend. Since he showed up at the academy, it had always been him and Lark against the world, and after their conversation at the cliffs, it would always stay that way. That's how he liked it. Easy, simple, comfortable. When he thought about Lark, he felt at ease. Then he thought about taking her as a date to the dance. He was still at ease, but now he felt, what, excited? Impossible. It was Lark! THey talked about everything! But tonight, she was his date.

He slowly got up, extinguishing his fireball, and looked through his drawers for something to wear. Oh, no. What in the world would he wear? He hadn't thought about getting dressed up; he'd been too worried about Lark and actually having a date. Crap, he thought, suddenly looking through all of his things for something that would suit for the night. Hoodies, jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts. One pair of black slacks. Those would do, but he could hardly wear a hoodie to the dance. "Sh**," he said out loud, throwing his pants on the bed. He looked at the very back of his tiny closet, and found a white over coat. Well, what the hell was he going to wear under that? Sighing, he looked once more and chose a blue t-shirt with pink letters that said 'cliche' across the front. Looking at his choice, and grimaced. He wasn't a very good date.

Jack put on the black slacks and makeshift outfit. He ran a comb through his hair and put on some cologne, but he felt awful. He knew everyone else would be dressed nice, and here he was, looking like the poor, white trailer trash kid he was. He opened his door and headed down into the common room, gaining dirty looks from various people. The guys were all in suits, he looked stupid. ONce out in the hall, he flipped some kid off who actually told him he looked like hell. Great. Thanks a lot, he thought.

Once downstairs to the mess hall, he saw Lark. "Sh**," he muttered. She looked great. She was wearing a dress, which was absolutely stunning, however, she never wore dresses. Which meant to Jack that she wore it specifically for him. He scratched the back of his head and continued toward her. Of course, he didn't get to her without tripping over some girl's dress. "Sorry," he said, waving her off and gaining another dirty look. Sighing, he finally made it to Lark. What in the world was he going to say? "Um, so...I didn't have anything to wear," he muttered, shoving his hands in his slacks pockets and looking at his shoes. His shoes! He was wearing his sneakers! What an idiot! He clenched his teeth and thought it was a better idea to not mention them, that way, maybe they would be invisible to everyone else. Yeah, right.

[LARK MARIE HARPER]

Lark continued to look around the entrance to the mess hall, wondering where he was. It was not really late, but standing here looking like a poodle made her extremely nervous. The glances and looks she received did not help her in the least. As she stood there, suddenly she heard a familiar voice. The brunette turned her head to see someone approaching her—and a smile formed on her glowing features. Jack tried to get through to her with all of the people milling about, but accidentally stepped on a girl’s dress in the process. The girl passed him a glare—Lark almost strode over and took care of the problem personally, but Jack waved her off and she went on her way. Good thing, too. Lark did not feel like getting blood on a stark white dress. When the boy finally stood in front of her, she looked him up and down with an amused look on her face. It was not disgust, or anger, or frustration; in fact, Lark did not mind his attire at all. I should have grown some balls and done that too, She thought before taking a few steps towards him. The heels clacked on the floor, but they were drowned out by the sound of people talking and music playing in the background.

When she looked at him, something in her eyes altered almost instantly. It made her feel…weird. What the hell was this? This was just a dance, no big deal. Maybe it was just nerves about being all dressed up, and wondering if she was going to fall flat on her face while out there dancing. Dancing! I fuckin’ forgot all about dancing! Suddenly her smile faltered, but it was brief. There was no way Jack was going to see her fumbling over herself like an idiot. That was out of the question. Playfully she nudged him in the arm and smirked, wrapping her arm through his. “You look good,” Lark pointed out, squeezing his arm for reassurance. “You know I could care less what you wear, right? I mean, look at me. A poodle on two legs. It's awful.” It was true. Jack could be wearing a chicken costume and she would not even bat an eyelash in shock. Although now she felt over dressed, and the anxiety began to grow ever faster. This dress was way too much. Then again, if she had come in her shorts and tank top it would have been worse. What was the big deal? What was going on? Lark shook her head a little, acting as though she was moving a hair out of her face as she stepped into the mess hall and watched the people around her. A few people from her element stopped and nodded at her, smiles on their faces. Why are they smiling at me? Lark raised an eyebrow, not aware that they noticed she was with a date…at a dance…in a dress. For whatever reason, being with Jack was normal. It was natural.

“Do you want to get something to drink first or…dance?” The last word nearly disappeared into the noise of the room as it fell into a partial whisper. She could not help it; she was not a good dancer, and being here in front of all these people would not help the situation at all. “I’m not much of a dancer. Two left feet you know,” She chuckled, trying to push the anxiety away as viciously as possible. “But you’re the one who asked me here so you should call the shots.” Like always, the brunette gave him a playful punch in the shoulder; it put her at ease, and hopefully kept things from becoming awkward. Awkward…since when did she worry about it becoming awkward? They were just best friends coming to a dance together. That’s all it was…

[jack]

Jack grinned, and nervously looked at his shoes when she punched him in the hall. He wasn't nervous about her, or the dance even, it was more like he was nervous about everyone looking at him. He'd rather stand in a corner by himself, unnoticed, than be noticed because he looks like a dolt. He noticed when they walked in, that many of their own were looking at them. He knew they weren't looking because they were together, that was a given and a norm. It was because of Lark. She looked brilliant.

"I look like an idiot, Lark. You know those rumors about me living in a trailer, we both know they're true. So I guess they're not rumors are they?" he started, being serious, then trailing off onto another thing entirely. He shook his head. "Anyway, now what are they going to think?" he let it go and nodded toward a table.

"We're not dancing right now. That would be a death wish, man," he muttered. He held his hand out to take hers, knowing she wasn't comfortable in heels, he knew her better than to think she could walk perfectly in them. She never wore them, and could care less. Heck, she'd probably take them off in ten minutes anyway. Anyway, he wasn't going to let her fall, so he held her hand, winking at her as they made their way to the refreshment table. "Want lemonade? Or punch? Or whatever else is here?" he asked, suddenly aware that punch wasn't even on the table.

"We're going to have to dance at some point," Jack said, taking a cup of soda for himself. He took a sip and looked around the mess hall. Kids were everywhere, and everyone look decent. Poor Lark. She looked like a queen, and he was standing there in what he considered street clothes; almost. For half a second he thought about just setting the whole place on fire and running for it with Lark. They'd go to the cliffs. He smiled a crooke grin before turning back to her with amusement in his eyes.

[LARK MARIE HARPER]

Lark could not help but frown at her best friend; what in the world was so bad about the way he lived? It did not make him any less of a good person because of it. She knew rich people who were stuck up ass holes that could care less about anyone else, and middle-class people who acted the same way. None of that even mattered to her. Jack was her friend, and financial status did not even remotely play a part in their friendship. She cherished him more than even she herself knew. Lark sighed and rested the side of her head against his arm for a moment, closing her eyes. For a brief second, the girl had to compose herself before she grew angry. If any one of the people in this room wanted to belittle her friend because of his money, then they could answer to her. They wouldn’t even be able to talk, let alone breathe properly. “Look, don’t care so much okay? I think you look great. You are you, and that’s what is most important. Fuck the rest of the world Jack.” She pulled away and looked up at him with a glow in her eyes. “Just you and me against the world. They don’t matter. If they truly cared about you, they wouldn’t judge.”

After a moment Jack motioned towards a table, and Lark took one step towards it. Her feet were already killing her in these shoes, but would she admit that? Of course not. Never going to happen. Did that make her graceful? Most certainly not. As though reading her mind, Jack offered her a hand and winked in her direction. Lark swallowed hard, not really sure what to make of the gesture. Just Jack being Jack, She told herself as they made their way to the table full of refreshments. Her hand squeezed his instinctively to keep as good a balance as possible. What she didn’t realize was how comfortable it felt having her hand in his to begin with. It was something she was not at all used to, yet did not pass off a second thought when she took his offer. It must be a best friend thing. That had to be it. “It will be pretty amusing,” Lark replied in regards to his not wanting to dance. She had to admit it felt nice to know he was not very eager about it himself; that meant that they did not feel uncomfortable with sitting around most of the evening and enjoying one another’s company. “Hmm…lemonade actually sounds pretty good.” She bit at the inside of her lip as she stepped forward and made herself a drink. It was not in her nature to let people do these sorts of things for her, and it would not start now. Lark was an independent person—funny how she took his hand to help her stay upright, though. Quickly the girl dismissed the thought.

Then, the inevitable statement reached her ears. "We're going to have to dance at some point," It made her feel on edge again. She couldn’t dance very well to begin with… but in heels? Maybe taking them off before hand would make things easier on the both of them. The dress was floor length so no one would notice anyway. Not that Jack seemed to care. He never cared about what she wore; it was kinda refreshing to know she could fully be herself around him without decking someone for a passing glare or a judgmental glance. With a dramatic sigh she glanced at him with a smirk, the lipstick already fading. It was not a bad thing of course. She felt weird with it on anyway. “Yeah, we will. But we’re with each other. Who gives a shit what other people think? We can make the best of it.” Although Lark still felt nervous about dancing and falling over, saying that made her feel better. Who cares about what they thought? She was here for Jack, and no one else.

[jack]

Jack looked at Lark. Of course she was right, she always was. Jack constantly felt like people were looking at him, expecting him to be stupid or do something that would get him trouble. He tored his eyes away from her face, his cup still up to his mouth. No one was even looking at them at the moment. Why did he always feel like he was the center of attention? He finally swallowed and let the cup come away from his face.

The world never mattered, though, not really. Because without Lark, he wouldn't be able to do it. How many times had he been driven to drink himself to oblivion, because a teacher had called him out in the middle of class because his paper was poorly written? How many times had he been forced to pocket his lighter when he easily could have burned down his room, because he was angry that Shane was living happily at home and he was stuck at a school that didn't understand him? But when he thought of those instances, he thought about Lark, too. She was there, in every one of those memories. HOlding his hand, staring at his eyes, telling him to quit it, to relax. The world didn't matter; just they did.

Jack put his cup down, then shoved his hands in his pockets, finding his Zippo lighter and playing with it slightly. "You truly look great, you know. The dress....if fantastic. I sorta feel like I shouldn't punch you or push you like I normally do." He muttered, looking at her through raised eyebrows and a smile. It was difficult, looking at her the way she was dressed. He felt like he'd actually asked her out on a date. Jack couldn't really remember when it had happened; the shift in his feelings. Yes, Lark was his best friend and they shared a lot of things, but in the past couple of months, there was that shift. The one that comes inevitably when you get close to someone of the opposite gender. Jack just didn't know what to do about it, so he'd just been keeping his mouth shut and quieting his heart so Lark did'nt find out. If she found out, their friendship could potentially be ruined, he'd seen it happen before. He couldn't, and wouldn't, risk losing Lark.

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[LARK MARIE HARPER]

As Lark drank her lemonade, she noticed Jack was looking at her. Maybe it was completely random, and he wanted to say something but decided against it? That was probably it. The awkward feeling in her heart dissipated shortly after he tore his eyes away from her—it was strange that his stare made her feel uneasy. They were best friends! They were supposed to look at one another when in conversation or spending time together. But you weren’t having a conversation. She was not quite sure where her mind was at by that point, so decided to keep her thoughts to herself and finish up her lemonade with a silent gulp. Setting the cup down on the table, she leaned against it to watch everyone else moving about the room. Some people were sitting at tables and eating while they chatted, others stood in small groups around the room and drank their beverages. For the most part, however, people were out on the dance floor. The song was slow; most of those out on the floor were probably couples (or couples-to-be) enjoying their time with one another. For a fleeting moment, Lark wondered what it would be like to have someone like that. Someone to hold her and tell her that the world was not as shitty as it appeared to be. Someone to tell her goodnight, and good morning without fail. The thoughts sounded nice, but they were very fleeting. No one would want me for that…even though Jack does tell me good night and good morning… She thought. Lark did not hold onto it for too long.

After a few more moments of silence and observing the people in the room, she noticed Jack took his lighter out of his pocket. She knew he did that when thinking or nervous, possibly trying to control anger. Lark turned herself towards him and raised an eyebrow, a bewildered look on her face. Never before had someone said she looked good, especially in clothing outside of what she normally wore on a daily basis. It made her feel nervous, knowing that she truly did look different. She felt different. It was intimidating. Instead of allowing the intimidation and anxiety shine through, Lark simply chuckled and smiled at him, placing a hand over his to stop the lighter from moving again. “I’m just me, Jack. Me being in a dress does not change that.” She quickly removed a stray strand of hair from her face , her eyes still locked onto his. “But I appreciate the complement. I was wondering if it might be a bit too much. It’s definitely nothing like me.” And she was right. This dress put her far out of her element, and made her feel…feminine. It was one of the first times in over ten years that she even slipped a dress onto her body, and as soon as Jack asked her to go to the prom instantly that changed. Why? Why did it change? What was different? Lark emitted a bit of a sigh before shifting to stand in front of him, her eyes never losing sight of his face.

“Do we want to hold out on the dancing as long as we can, or get it over with? I’ll have to take this damned shoes of either way so I don’t fall over myself.” She inquired with a chuckle. The thought of dancing freaked her out, to say the least. Lark imagined herself falling over and making a big scene over her two left feet. She honestly did not feel like getting into any fights over that tonight, and she knew for a fact that if someone laughed there would be a punch thrown. Her hand never moved away from his to ensure that all was going to be okay; if only he knew that her nerves were on the fritz too. Maybe he could comfort her. No. That was not needed. The anxiety she felt welling up in her chest would go away eventually. Jack did not need to be bothered for that.

[jack]

Jack looked at Lark when her hand stopped his from opening and closing his lighter. Her hand startled him, just slightly, and he kept himself from letting himself make a big deal of it. Tonight, it seemed that all of his emotions were coming to a pinnacle. He had those feelings for Lark, for a long time, but tonight it seemed that those emotions were even more so. Jack watched as Lark moved that strand of hair out of her face, biting his lip in an attempt to ignore it.

"Let's just do it, so we don't have to do it later," Jack said, taking the hand that was already on top of his. "Take your shoes off, because neither of us need anyone else looking at us," he muttered, nodding toward her shoes. Once they were on the dance floor, Jack truly had no idea what to do. He looked around, and as he did so, a slow song chimed in from the sound system. Are you kidding me? he thought. Now Jack had absolutely no idea what to do next. He looked at Lark, biting his lip, eyes slightly wide. This whole thing suddenly felt like a very bad idea.

As if on instinct, Jack reached out with one hand and placed it on Lark's hip, feeling like he was making a huge mistake. "Where would you like me ot put this hand?" he asked with a grin, holding up his other hand. "It could go in so many places," he muttered the joke as he glanced around with a grin. Okay, so now wasn't the best time to be funny, but it's what happened. "I'm sorry, that was totally wrong to say," he laughed some more, trying repress it, but having a difficult time. The laughter made his face turn red, because he was holding it in. He shook his head, looking at his shoes.

[/blockquote]

[LARK MARIE HARPER]

Lark nodded a little as he took her hand and accepted the dance. She felt more anxious now than she had a few seconds before, but it was not because of the fact she was in her dress. It was the fact that this was beginning to feel less and less like best friends spending time together and more like a date. The girl had never been on a date. How do I know what it feels like, then? Mentally Lark rolled her eyes, feeling stupid for even over analyzing the entire situation. It was just a dance. It was just prom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except that she had never been to one. Or dressed up for anyone. Now here she was, at the prom dressing up for someone. For Jack. What the hell was going on? This should not be so awkward and hard to deal with. “Okay…” She muttered. It was all she could get out before he asked her to take her shoes off. A partial frown appeared on her face; was he embarrassed to have her with him? It hurt. “I’m going to. I’m sorry that I’m embarrassing you.” A hint of anger laced her voice as she spoke, feeling as though her presence really was humiliating to Jack. Maybe she was an embarrassment. Half of the time she was, with her attitude and tomboyish mannerisms.

With a strange feeling in her heart, Lark took off her shoes and set them down at a nearby table that was not being occupied by other students. They would be safe there for the time being. She continued to hold onto his hand as he led her out onto the dance floor, feeling her insides squirm with unease. Maybe this was a bad idea? Jack was already uncomfortable with her being there, dancing will not make the situation any better for them. Lost in her thoughts, it startled her to have him place a hand on her waist. The rest of the room seemed to move slowly as she looked up at him, a nervous smile on her face. When he asked where he could put the other hand, the unease began to drift away again. Adding humor to a situation definitely helped her, even if only just a little. However, his next statement threw her off a bit. "It could go in so many places," She knew he was merely trying to be funny, but still. Lark swallowed hard before allowing herself to settle down. She could not reveal any of this to Jack. That would put a damper on their spending time together, and potentially ruin the night. So, with a smile and a chuckle, she grabbed his hand and moved it to her other hip. “Right there. A safe zone.” Lark winked a little bit, smirking. “Anywhere else could potentially be dangerous.” It was light hearted and meant to ease his nerves. He looked like he was feeling a bit edgy as well. In all honesty, that made her feel better too.

The song that came on was slow and steady, making Lark feel ill-equipped for the dance. She had seen people dance in movies and on random occasions at the club but that was nothing like actually being a dance partner with someone who was equally unprepared for the dance as well. Keeping her gaze on his, Lark hesitantly placed her hands on his upper chest, wondering if all of this should not be happening. She took a deep breath to steady herself as she slid her arms around his neck, fingers intertwining with one another to keep hold. Without her heels Lark was now looking up at him. She felt small; it was something she hardly felt around anyone. Smiling softly up at him, the girl allowed herself to move a little closer to him, her eyes never straying from his face.