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Jack Shephard would never be a doctor.
For as long as he could remember, his father had drilled that idea into his head, eager for him to follow in his footsteps and continue the family legacy, completely disregarding his wants and dreams.
Jack didn't want to be a doctor. That was his father's dream, not his.
Dr. Christian Shephard wanted nothing more than a second version of himself, a perfect copy. But as his son started to rebel, he'd grown conflicted. He'd pushed as much as he could. Bribed and blackmailed. But Jack hadn't relented, too stubborn for his own good — that he had surely inherited from him.
The internship interview had been the final straw.
Christian had scheduled an appointment for Jack with the head of Saint Sebastian Hospital, where he worked. It was an attempt to get him an unpaid internship, so he could start pre-med with a better understanding of the medical field. Every decision his father made was a step in his carefully crafted plan for Jack's life and future.
Jack stubbornly hadn't shown up, opting instead to focus on studying physics with his best friend, Juliet, who was a genius at the subject he was trying not to fail. The lecture he'd faced upon arriving home had been the last drop, and he'd finally snapped, yelling at his father that he wanted to be a lawyer..
"That's it. You're going to a boot camp!"
That was how Jack had ended up on that small bus, amidst a dozen other teenage boys, headed towards Camp Austen for the summer, the weekend after his last day of school.
The military reform facility hardly had a website, but the few pictures on it had been enough to send a chill down his spine. Almost as much as his father's cold and forceful voice had. "You'll learn some fucking discipline and respect."
An all-boys institution, Camp Austen often received teenagers from juvenile detention centers in an attempt to give them enough structure to get by in life without dabbling in crime. Jack couldn't wrap his head around the fact that his father thought he belonged there with them just for speaking his mind.
He sat quietly at the front, alone in the double seat. The bus was quiet, unlike the usual school bus atmosphere, with kids his age reeling with excitement about their day or their trips.
When Jack had begged his dad for a summer camp as a kid, unsuccessfully, this hadn't been what he'd meant. He'd wanted kayaking and swimming, and bonfire singing with s'mores. Not five a.m. wake-ups with exercise drills and old men yelling at him all day.
One of the men in uniform who'd picked them up at the meet-up spot turned in his seat at the very front to speak to them, to inform them that they were ten minutes out and should exit the bus calmly, bag in hand, in a single-file line. Jack's goal was to get yelled at as little as possible — there was enough of that at home, waiting for him to return — so he'd obliged.
One thing was for sure: the camp was beautiful.
A lakeside clearing, lined with tall pine trees in Washington State, Camp Austen was idyllic, not unlike the camp movies his little sister Claire loved to watch on the Disney Channel. For some reason, it reminded him of a movie she liked about twin girls trying to get their parents back together. As often as she'd forced him to see it, he couldn't remember the title or who was in it.
Jack stood when the bus came to a stop in a makeshift parking lot and grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment. One of the boys, a small, young blond, rushing from the very back of the bus, bumped into him, trying to pass. As he tried to move out of the way, he stumbled into another guy, a taller blond with shaggy hair down to his shoulders. "Hey, watch it, will ya?"
"Sorry, man."
"Sorry ain't enough, now move it."
The same guy who'd told them they were arriving soon stood, ready to intervene if necessary. But the blond guy rushed off, and Jack gave the man an apologetic nod before stepping off the bus as well.
He took in the place. The matching cabins to the left, around a much larger cabin he assumed worked as some sort of base. The track to the right, around a soccer field, a set of ropes behind the furthest goal.
A group of men in uniform awaited them in formation at the end of the parking lot, where it met the grass the cabins were on. Jack approached them, lining up with some of the other boys, his bag at his feet as he waited.
An older man stood at the very front, his clean-shaven pale cheeks nearly glistening in the sunlight. "Welcome, young men, to Camp Austen. I am Sergeant Major Sam Austen, Army, 3rd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, and owner of the camp."
The boy who'd told him off on the bus scoffed at the introduction and earned a glare Jack wouldn't wish upon anyone, not even his dad. "Consider your time here a second chance. For some of you, this camp is your final stop before you have to pick your path, either to a better life or to a life behind bars," the man continued, seemingly unfazed. "The choice is yours to make the best of it or not, but know we will not make it easy."
He signaled to a bald man to step forward and join him. A scar across his eye made his icy blue eyes much scarier, his toothy grin stiff. "I'm Sergeant John Locke, and I'll be one of your instructors here at camp. Your cabins have already been assigned, and there will be six of you in each. Cabin checks will be performed every morning at zero-six-hundred, sharp."
As the man babbled on about what was expected of them and what their days in the camp would be like, Jack couldn't help the dread that came over him.
It was going to be a long summer.
Saying his first night at the camp had been awful was an understatement.
The cabins were small and bare, except for the three parallel bunk beds that would house all six of them. A door on the opposite wall led to a small bathroom that they were all meant to share.
Jack had opted to share his bunk with a hefty boy named Hugo, who he felt didn't belong there either, much like him. He had been immediately bullied for his size by the same tall blond boy from the bus, a guy named Sawyer, and Jack knew right away that it wouldn't be easy to get along with him.
The other boys seemed alright, nothing he couldn't handle. He didn't know their stories, but he figured he'd find out soon enough.
Hugo had left him with the top bunk, and he hadn't complained. There was no point in creating grievances over irrelevant details. It was only for a few months, after all. The bed was uncomfortable, the springs digging into his back, and he didn't get a lot of sleep before the sun started to come up.
Without curtains on the windows, the sunlight inundated the cabin, waking all of them up. Jack checked his watch, just after five in the morning, plenty of time for him to get changed into one of the uniforms they'd been handed when they got sorted into their cabins, and make his bed before cabin checks.
The only one to not get out of bed was Sawyer, who covered his head with his pillow, down on his stomach, and continued to snore softly. Jack shook his head at him, knowing that being a rebel would do nothing but make things more difficult for him.
The other boys made their beds and changed as well, waiting patiently for Sergeant Locke to show up. Charlie, the small blond, the youngest of them, kept telling them about a band he had with his older brother, and Jack couldn't help but wonder why an aspiring musician had ended up with them.
He listened in silence as the others shared why they were there. Kevin, a friendly guy, dreamed of being in the military, and his mom had sent him there for him to experience firsthand what it would be like if he enlisted. While she did that in an attempt to get him to change his mind, he was ecstatic to be there.
Hugo, his bunk partner, was there for the discipline of it. His mother had planned to send him to a weight loss camp, but the spots had been filled already when she called, and a military boot camp was the next best thing. Jack felt sorry for him, not for his size, but for the lack of acceptance he faced. He understood that part pretty well.
Miles, the second youngest, hadn't felt like sharing, and neither had Jack.
"You ladies done? Some of us 're trying to sleep, here," they heard Sawyer complain from his spot on the top bunk at the furthest corner from the entrance just as the door to the cabin swung open.
A short, chubby man with white hair came in, his moss-green polo standing out against his pale skin. "Callis, Carlyle, Ford, Reyes, Shephard, and Straume, line up at your bunks."
He eyed them carefully as they obeyed, noticing Sawyer still in his bunk. He did not comment, taking careful notes of the tidiness of their bunks as he requested their names. "The five of you, go to the cafeteria for breakfast. I'll handle Ford."
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison before stepping out.
Jack welcomed the sun's warmth against his skin as they made the short trek to the cafeteria, the large cabin at the center of the residential circle. It was a cool day, which he should've expected being so far north from home. He was used to the blistering heat of Los Angeles in the summer, and this was a welcome change.
The food had been less terrible than dinner the night before, and he ate happily amongst the boys he was housed with for the next three months, mainly listening to their conversation, led by Kevin. Jack had to give it to the guy, he was good at making them all feel better about being there. He made it sound like the experience wouldn't be as dreadful as they all expected it to be, and he made Hugo feel good about himself, which Jack was really happy about.
Sawyer didn't come in until much later, an angry look on his face as he tugged his t-shirt down, trying to lower the choking neckline. He caught everyone's eye, even the staff's, as he smacked his tray down on the table, as far from the other guys as he could. "What y'all lookin' at?" he growled, the younger boys quickly looking away from him.
"That guy's an ass," Charlie whispered to them.
"You guys think he's one of those juvie kids they send here?" Hugo had fear and concern etched on his face.
Jack didn't have an answer; he didn't want to label anyone right away. Maybe he was just troubled, maybe he was just like him, with family troubles, but was more vocal and physical about it, while Jack was more contained. But Kevin seemed to disagree. "Yeah, the guy's definitely one of the juvie ones."
At the end of breakfast, they were escorted to the tracks, where they were instructed to run five laps. Considering he'd just eaten, Jack didn't feel very comfortable running, but he kept a good pace, finishing the five laps in good time and without hurling the scrambled eggs.
Next came the rope climb.
It was then that he noticed her.
Sweat glistened on her freckled skin, her pale orange t-shirt standing out against their green ones. Her curly hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, but still a couple of strands of hair managed to get loose at the front and framed her delicate face.
"Kate, you're up first, show these boys how it's done." Sergeant Locke called her over. The girl walked up to the rope and waited for his signal, but before he could give it to her, they heard Sawyer speak up.
"They're gon' have a girl show us how it's done, y'all. Lucky us."
Kevin tensed up next to Jack, the superhero, savior persona coming out. The girl — Kate — didn't even flinch, clearly unbothered by Sawyer's sexist comment. "What, Ford, you think you can do better?" Sergeant Locke asked.
"I know I can do better, sir," he mocked.
"You're up then. You versus Kate. May the best climber win."
Sawyer walked up to the rope next to Kate's, standing almost a foot taller than her, his advantage clear. The determination on her face told Jack not to doubt her, though. She seemed confident. "My bet's on the girl," Charlie said, turning back to face him, Kevin, and Hugo.
"Mine too," Kevin agreed.
"I don't know, you guys," Miles chimed in. "I think he can take her, he's tall and strong."
"Don't go around drooling over him, mate, she's got this, you'll see."
Jack almost laughed at Charlie's excitement over this match. But before he could, Locke's whistle went off, and both Kate and Sawyer started their climb.
She expertly wrapped part of the rope around one of her feet, using it as support to propel herself up, her strong, defined arms straining against the sleeves of her shirt. She practically flew up the rope, making it look effortless, especially in comparison with Sawyer, who was moving up at a slower pace and seemed to be fighting to keep his balance.
In seconds, Kate rang the bell at the very top before climbing down, a toothy grin across her lips. "You owe us," Kevin said to Miles, who rolled his eyes.
Sawyer gave up when she reached the floor, letting go and landing on his feet, knees bent. "Well, well, well, it looks like we have a little monkey among us," he told her, smiling smugly. "Ain't that right, Freckles?"
She didn't dignify him with an answer, moving to stand next to the Sergeant instead. "Great job, Kate, thank you," he said to her before turning to the group of boys. "Anyone else? No? Good. In pairs, come on, let's go."
Two lines were formed and, in pairs, as requested, they went up the ropes, though not competing against each other. Jack somehow ended up at the very back, and he dreaded the next five laps the others were being instructed to run again after they were done with the ropes.
He watched carefully as the others climbed, taking in their different techniques — some useful, others not so much. He'd always been good at it in P.E., but he'd never felt such pressure to prove himself as he did there.
As the lines grew smaller, he realized they were at an odd number since Sawyer had gone against Kate, and he would have no one to go with. Sergeant Locke seemed to notice it too, and before he knew it, Kate was bouncing next to him, ready to go again. "Hi," he said awkwardly, taking his eyes off of her when she noticed that he was looking.
She smiled, her cheeks reddening. He pretended not to notice, unsure what he'd even say about it. She looked beautiful, freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks, her fine features very delicate, a stark comparison to her physique. Kate was visibly strong, and she'd proven just moments earlier that she knew how to handle herself.
"Are you gonna get cocky too?"
Her tone was playful, he noticed.
"Nah, I'll leave that to Sawyer. That's not really my style."
"Good."
As soon as he heard the whistle, he gave it his best. His hands burned from the rope as he pulled himself up, using all the upper body strength he'd earned playing football at school that year. He made good time, once again, but still not good enough to beat her.
"You gotta use your legs too, not just your arms," she told him once he got down. "That way you spread out your weight better."
"Thanks for the tip. You did good," he said, slightly out of breath. "I'm Jack."
"Okay, Jack. Race you?"
She sprinted off to run her laps, looking back at him with a smile to see if he would follow.
He did.
After a few days, the rumors started.
No one could quite figure out why there was a girl amongst them, or what she'd done to be there. All they knew was that she participated in the majority of their activities, often beating most of the boys, and disappeared the rest of the time.
It intrigued them all and often made her a topic of conversation through meals and at curfew. Jack never participated, instead opting to listen closely to everyone's theories and weed out the most likely ones.
Miles seemed certain she was a criminal worse than any of the juvie boys around them. He was convinced that this wasn't her first time here, or that she hadn't yet left, needing more work than the previous group of kids. To him, she was the exception to the gender rule because she needed the most help.
Hugo had a more gentle approach, thinking she just lived nearby, and the camp allowed her to spend the summer there. They were in the middle of nowhere after all, and it'd be hard for a family to entertain a teen girl.
"Y'all are just idiots," Sawyer said from his bunk one night. "She's an Austen."
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.
"I mean, she's Sam Austen's kid, Frodo. Her daddy owns the place."
"And how would you know that?" Kevin asked in an angry tone. Jack noticed how stiff his body was on the neighboring bunk despite the darkness.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Jack hated his smug tone. In fact, there was a lot he hated about Sawyer, from his constant talking-down of others to his flirtatious yet unwanted advances towards Kate.
She didn't seem bothered, taking him on and standing her ground better than any girl he'd ever seen. In his experience, girls were either scared of or attracted to boys like Sawyer, but Kate didn't seem very willing to give him the time of day.
"I can ask her tomorrow," Kevin boasted. Jack had seen the two talking in between drills. He'd noticed the way Kevin would lean against a tree or a pole while he talked, relaxed yet confident. He didn't know why it bothered him, why it made his guts feel like they were twisting around and forming knots, but he couldn't shake it off.
The next morning, after breakfast, Jack saw the two together, talking as Kate stretched, preparing for their laps. Lieutenant Nadler was in charge that day, standing with a clipboard in hand, making sure they were all accounted for.
Jack felt relief wash over him when Kate started running, seemingly dismissive of Kevin's attempt at a conversation. He lost her in the crowd, focusing on making it through the morning drills. He felt his stamina improving, his strength increasing, and if there was one positive in this whole camp punishment, it was that his fitness level would be even better the next football season.
"Now that's a first." It was after lunch when he saw her again, standing quietly in the water, pants rolled up, feet buried deep in the murky substance. "You, standing still, in the middle of the day. Doing nothing. It's amazing!"
Kate smiled at him, a genuine smile that reached her eyes and made her look even more beautiful. "Just taking a moment to take it all in," she said with a sigh. "I love it here."
She meant it, he noticed. Her love of the view, of this place he was still so bitter about, was real. "How come?" The question came out before he even had the time to think about it, and he immediately grimaced, thinking he'd overstepped, but she didn't seem bothered by it.
"This is home, but only for the summer."
"Where do you live the rest of the year?" He was being nosy, but he couldn't help himself when she was so willing to talk to him.
"Iowa."
"And why are you here?"
"Why are you here, Jack?" She shot back, taking her eyes off the horizon to meet his for the first time that day. "I have a point to this, I swear."
"Here at camp or here talking to you?"
"At camp."
"My dad wants me to be a doctor, like him. And I don't want to be, so he's punishing me for not going along with his plans," he answered honestly, taking in her reaction, how the green in her eyes lightened again, and her angry tone faded.
"I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. I should be used to it by now; he always gets what he wants."
He shrugged and looked away, staring ahead, just like she'd been, hoping to see something that would ease the pressure in his chest.
"It shouldn't come at the cost of what you want, though. It's the rest of your life, not his." She put her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "I'm here because of my dad."
"The Sergeant. Mr. Austen."
"How do you know that?"
Kate sounded so surprised Jack had to fight back a smile. "Sawyer said it last night," he admitted.
"How does he know that?"
"That, you'll have to ask him. He wouldn't say."
Silence reigned over them for a while. He wasn't sure how long the two of them stood there, looking at the water, unmoving.
"Are the two of you friends?" she asked.
"No, I'm not exactly trying to make friends, I'm just trying to get this over with. He's in my cabin, though."
She nodded, pensive. "Good. He's trouble."
He didn't have time to ask her about it. Sergeant Locke called them back for the group rowing activities that afternoon, and by the time he turned around to say goodbye to Kate, she was already gone.
If Jack had learned anything during his first month at Camp Austen, it was that no one could say no to Hugo.
The guy had managed to appease lieutenants and sergeants, to get out of drills, to get seconds at lunch. He'd befriended every single person at camp, Sawyer included, to everyone's surprise. While the blond still used callous nicknames to refer to him, Hugo had managed to break down some sort of invisible wall that made him be nice to him, and only him.
It was just who he was, a friendly guy, full of good vibes. And Kate, like everyone else, wasn't immune to his nicety powers. So Jack wasn't surprised when she said yes to sitting with them at lunch that day after Hugo so bluntly asked why she never ate at the cafeteria with the boys.
She'd told them about eating with her dad, at their house on the campgrounds, a little further out, past where they kept the horses they often used for some of the afternoon activities. Those activities usually involved bonding, a more therapeutic approach that seemed to have the most positive results.
The stalls were where Jack found her often, grooming a black filly she clearly loved. It was where they'd talk without people around to bother them, where he'd heard her laugh for the first time, where he'd vowed to make it happen as many times as possible so he could hear that sound again.
He couldn't hold his own laughter when he saw the face she made at the grub on her tray when she sat down across from him. They'd all gotten used to it. It looked much worse than it tasted; the flavor itself was not too bad, though he thought that was partly because he'd grown used to it.
She gave him a look, a mix of annoyance and amusement. "I feel like I gotta talk to my dad about what they're feeding you guys here."
"Please do, Kate. This is torture. It's the third time this week that I can't even tell what I'm putting into my body," Miles pleaded, earning a laugh from the rest of the table.
"No need to be so dramatic, Miles," Kevin chirped from his seat next to Kate. "Here, try some."
Jack clenched his hands under the table when Kevin lifted his own fork and dug it into her food, bringing it back up to about the height of her lips. She seemed taken aback, leaning away from the fork for a split second and looking down at it before taking a bite. "Looks worse than it tastes," she commented, covering her still-full mouth with her hand.
He tried to say something, but Kevin beat him to it, making his clenched fists tighten. "You're lucky today's a dessert day. It's a once-a-week kind of thing, so Hurley there did you a favor by inviting you today. Dessert is usually good."
"Dude, stop calling him that," Jack snapped, defending the only person there he considered a friend. "He doesn't like it."
"Don't be such a wimp about it, Hero."
"Why do you call them that?" Kate asked curiously, frowning at Kevin as she wiped the corners of her mouth with the paper napkin from her tray.
"Someone spent a whole night hurling in the toilet, made quite a mess, and we all had to help clean it up. But this guy over here," he pointed at Jack with his thumb, over his shoulder, "seems to think it's his job to defend the whole world and can't take a joke."
"It was Sawyer who came up with it," Hurley chipped in. "He likes nicknaming people."
"Don't worry, Hugo," she said, placing her hand over his across the table. "I will still call you by your name. Sawyer's such a dick for calling you something you're uncomfortable with."
"Well, well, well, I never thought I'd hear my name followed by the work dick coming out of your mouth, Freckles, but if you want me, you know where to find me."
Kate rolled her eyes so far up that Jack thought they might get lost in her head. "In your dreams, Sawyer."
"In my dreams, you're wearing fewer clothes."
"Watch it," Jack snapped from his seat.
"Or what, Hero, you gon' hit me for hittin' on ya girlfriend?"
Kate's chair screeched against the linoleum floor as she pushed it away from the table and jumped to her feet. "You're an asshole, Sawyer," she spat out before storming off, her lunch barely touched.
Jack stood up and followed, ignoring Sawyer's comment about how he was off to be a hero again. The nicknames didn't faze him; his dad had often done worse. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him, considering his own father would often make fun of how good he always tried to be. And still, that was never enough.
"Kate, wait up," he yelled out as he spotted her heading towards the lake. "Wait!"
She stalled but didn't turn to look at him as he raced to catch up with her. "What do you want, Jack?"
"Look," he started, gasping for air. "I'm sorry they talked to you like that. I see why you don't bother eating lunch with all of us now."
"It's not your fault, Jack, you're not responsible for them."
While part of him knew she was right, he couldn't stop himself from feeling guilty, from feeling responsible. He had to fix things; it was in his nature.
"I'm still sorry, Kate."
"I know."
The cut on his lip was still hurting when he knocked on the door.
It'd been two weeks since that disastrous lunch, since he'd seen her last.
He hadn't been concerned right away when she didn't show up the next morning for their drills. It still shocked him that she enjoyed them, but he'd come to learn that what she enjoyed was being in shape, having a routine, and knowing what to expect of the day and what was expected of her. She liked the challenge, physical and mental, that came with them.
But as she continued to not be there, morning after morning, he found himself asking Lieutenant Nadler where she was, and that had only earned him a reprimand. Sawyer and Kevin had laughed, and he could've sworn they were making fun of him as he ran the extra laps and doubled the push-ups.
That day, he'd noticed Mr. Austen's truck was gone, and his stomach sank. He checked every day, no luck, no sign of the truck.
The teasing had increased along with his worry, and, while he tried to push it aside, he was growing tired of it. Miles and Charlie were on the fence, often just laughing when the other two picked on him for pining over Kate, but not actively participating. Hugo was the only one who had his back, defending Jack as he'd defended him when Kevin and Sawyer called him Hurley. "Knock it off, man."
That morning, they were being taught to spar, to box as a way to get their anger out and train to maintain a certain level of fitness. The punching bags made the chains creak as the boys collectively threw their punches, in pairs — one guy holding the bag while the other jabbed.
It was truly ironic that he'd ended up paired with Sawyer. Must've been fate laughing down at him, making him deal with one of the two people he could not stand at the camp. "That all you got, Hero?"
He hadn't dignified him with an answer, focusing on the bag in front of him. Pretending the bag was Sawyer's face—or Kevin's, for that matter—was doing wonders for him, to the point that the Lieutenant had congratulated him on his punches.
"Betcha would man up if you saw Kevin kissing your girl."
His fist had collided with Sawyer's jaw before he even realized what he was doing. The blond was quick to retaliate, landing a strong jab on his lip that had it throbbing as much as his knuckles were.
"Son of a bitch," Sawyer growled, throwing another punch, but Jack managed to sway out of the way and land his own in the blond's gut.
"Enough, both of you." Sergeant Locke and Lieutenant Nadler each grabbed one of them, pulling them apart. As punishment for their quarrel, Sawyer had been tasked with kitchen duty, helping the cooks prep and clean, and Jack had been told to muck the stalls.
Despite his hand still throbbing, he considered himself lucky as he cleared manure. If there was a place he could maybe find Kate, if or when she returned, it was the stalls.
The black filly she loved so much caught his attention by hitting her hoof on the little gate that kept her in place. He wanted to think that she recognized him from the time he'd spent there, talking to Kate, helping her brush her coat. "Hi, girl, how are you today?" The filly nickered low as he approached, nudging his shoulder when he was close enough. "Yeah, I miss her too."
He'd often catch Kate conversing with the horses, and it shocked him how easily it came to him, too. It's freeing, isn't it? There's no judgment, she'd told him, and he could still hear her voice echoing in his head.
It was then that he noticed the truck, off of the secondary door. It was parked in its usual spot, right by the Austen house, the dark blue of it reflecting the sunlight that hit it on the hood.
That's how he found himself at their door after dinner, arm raised bravely, his knuckles echoing against the wood.
When the door swung open, dread filled his body as he came face-to-face with Kate's dad. "Sergeant Major Austen, sir, I'm Jack Shephard. I wanted to see if maybe Kate's available to talk, sir."
Of all the reactions he could've gotten to his stuttering introduction, laughter hadn't been one of them. The man before him had been a stern disciplinarian from the beginning, not cracking even the slightest of smiles, even at his child when he was present during their activities.
"So you're the 'Jack' Katie's talked about so much. Come in, Shephard. Katie's just upstairs, I'll go get her."
Jack found himself standing alone at the entryway before the door even clicked shut. He wasn't sure what to do, or what to say to the man as he dashed up the stairs in search of Kate. He tried not to touch anything, shifting his weight awkwardly until he heard footsteps again.
"What happened to your face?" Kate asked, immediately rushing to him the second she saw him. She put her hands tenderly on his cheeks, pulling his face closer to the light so she could inspect the cut and bruise. He did his best not to close his eyes and relax into her touch.
"You should see the other guy," he joked, but she wasn't impressed, instead running her thumb gently across the bruise he knew was more black than purple at that point. "No, really, Kate. I'm okay."
"They had a sparring session today, and I hear things got a little out of hand," Sam spoke up, joining them. "Come on in, Jack. We were just about to eat. Katie made lasagna."
"I've already eaten, sir. But thank you."
"I'm sure you could use some nice home cooking, Shephard. Take a seat, and take a bite, even if a small one. Don't make me say it twice," he replied, playfully stern, but insistent. Jack obliged, taking a seat across from Kate, who sat next to her father at the table.
They sat in awkward silence, but not for long. As soon as the timer dinged in the kitchen, Kate excused herself and returned with a large tray of lasagna that smelled like what he imagined heaven would smell like. He felt his mouth start to water, his hunger suddenly back. "Dig in," she said, and she didn't have to tell them twice.
Sam Austen sliced through the lasagna, placing a hefty chunk of it on each of their plates. Jack would've been ashamed of how quickly he ate it, had it not been delicious, especially when compared to the food they'd been eating at the camp.
Kate gave him a small smile when he peered up at her, and she pointed at her own lip, letting him know where some sauce had stuck to his. "Are they starving you out there, son?"
"No, sir. But I haven't seen food this good in a long time."
"Katie's an excellent cook. But this is good feedback to have. I'll talk to my men and see what we can do about the food."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank him, thank me. He was already going to do it, I talked to him about how bad it is after I ate at your table," Kate chipped in, and her dad broke, his stern face turning into a smile as a Santa-like laugh left his lips.
"That much is true. Katie said it was the worst food she's ever tried, and she's tried my cooking, so that says a lot."
"I see why she got so good in the kitchen, then, sir," he joked with a small smile, testing the waters. The man laughed, thankfully.
"I see why my daughter likes you, you're funny."
When the older man got up and started to clear the table, Jack offered to help, but he dismissed him, claiming, "Katie cooks, I do the dishes," and disappearing into the kitchen.
"Your dad thinks I'm funny?" he asked her, laughing.
"Eh, his standards are low, I guess," she replied playfully, with a smile.
To Jack's surprise, when the man returned, he suggested that he join them for a movie. Kate nodded at him, confirming that it was okay, that it was a good idea. And he was glad he had. For once, he felt comfortable at the camp, like there was somewhere where he belonged.
The influx of visitors left a bitter taste in Jack's mouth.
He was not proud of the jealous thoughts that ran through his mind as he saw his roommates and their families. Some of the other boys from other cabins sat at the cafeteria with their parents and siblings as well, talking animatedly about their time at the boot camp and their progress. Even the boys from juvie who had shown significant progress had been deserving of family day.
Deserving, though, meant nothing to his father.
Jack hadn't really expected Christian to make the journey to Washington State just to see him for a few hours. He was a busy man, after all; a renowned spinal surgeon, the best in his field, big shoes to fill. But he hadn't expected him to stop his mother and sister from visiting him.
That'd struck him hard in the gut, a sucker punch worse than the one he'd gotten from Sawyer in their room when he returned from The Austen's house, the day they'd gotten in a fight during training. While that bruise had taken a while to heal, this would leave a lasting scar.
He missed his family, especially his annoying little sister, Claire. He missed his home, his bed, his friends. He missed his life. And seeing everyone get to grasp their previous realities for just a moment that day stung more than he'd expected it to.
Jack refused to stay in the cafeteria, instead opting to head towards the small deck by the lake. He sat there, legs dangling over the edge, bare feet almost touching the water.
When he heard footsteps behind him, he expected to see Kate sitting down next to him. He'd gotten used to having her around, to being in her company. He liked it, and that scared him.
To his surprise, it was Sawyer. "What, Doc-Daddy a no-show?"
"Something like that," he replied, not bothering to look at him, doing his best to seem unfazed. "What about you, your parents coming?"
"Ain't got any, Hero. They've been dead a long time, so it's a good thing they ain't shown up."
They sat in awkward silence, both staring at the water.
It was the first time he'd heard Sawyer share something personal since his arrival. Most of the time, all that came out of his mouth were provoking comments on everyone else, an attempt at picking a fight, and coming out on top.
Jack had Sawyer all figured out right away. He was no different from the school bullies who would beat up his friend Marc at the playground when they were little. Defending Marc had nearly cost him an eye, but he'd stood up to them, and he would stand up to Sawyer, no matter what.
It wasn't in his nature to let himself be intimidated by anyone except his father. Disrespecting that silent rule was what'd landed him at camp in the first place. As miserable as he felt, though, he didn't regret it.
"Ya know what Locke says all the time? 'Don't let anyone tell you what you can't do'? As much as I don't like the guy, I think he's right." Sawyer said, tossing his choppy, long hair back as he leaned his weight on his hands. "Your dad can't tell you what to do with your life forever. It's still your life, man."
Jack gave him a confused look. "How do you know that?"
The blond just laughed. "If ya want something to be a secret, you can't tell Jumbotron."
"You've got to stop giving him nicknames, Sawyer."
"Why, 'cause it ain't nice? 'Cause it'll hurt his feelings?" Jack only gives him a stern, unamused look in response. "Fine, Doc Junior. If ya want something to be a secret, you can't tell Hugo."
Jack nodded, his eyes back on the water. "Does everyone know?"
"Yeah, pretty much. But no one really cares, though I'm sure your girlfriend might."
"You really have to stop calling her that, too, man. She's not my girlfriend."
"But you want her to be." To that, he said nothing. "Cat got your tongue, Hero? Or should I say Kate did?"
"Shut up, Sawyer," he growled with a shove.
The blonde threw his hands up, "Alright, alright, easy. No need to get aggressive. I come in peace today." Jack snorted, throwing his head back in disbelief. "I ain't joking. You're not the only one who doesn't want to see people be all merry today."
Jack nodded.
He couldn't imagine having no one.
It was no wonder that Sawyer was so bitter about everything, so reckless with life and other people's emotions. Deep down, he was lonely. He had no one to count on, no one who had his back, nothing to gain or to lose. All he had was himself and the walls he'd built around his heart to keep from getting hurt.
In the end, even if his dad wasn't great, he at least had one.
He had someone who was invested in him and his future.
He had his mother, who showed more love, and his little sister, who definitely loved him. He had his grandfather, who would have had his back no matter what, even if he didn't become a doctor and continue the Shephard legacy. He would always have a place in the world.
"You're not so bad, Sawyer. Even if you try to make it look that way."
"Yeah, I know. Don't tell the others, I have a reputation to maintain."
"Dude, did you know that Kate had a birthday last month?"
Jack's head shot up, his eyes leaving the plate in front of him for the first time that morning. He'd been absent-mindedly eating his toast, flavorless as ever, his mind focused on how he would be done with camp in just over a month. "Huh?"
"Kate, she turned 17 last month. I heard yesterday at the cafeteria when all the families were here," he explained. "One of the guys in Cabin 4 was talking about it. Bruno, Brooks, something like that."
"Boone?" asked Kevin with his mouth half-full. Hugo nodded. "It's not his first time here. He got his ass sent back just so he could see her again but she won't give him the time of day."
Jack felt his blood boil.
He didn't know what bothered him more: the way Kevin spoke about Kate, like he was the only one worthy of her, like she was property somehow, or that other boys at camp liked her. It shouldn't surprise him. She was beautiful. And it certainly didn't help that she was the only girl for miles.
"Far as I know, she ain't give you the time 'a day either," Sawyer chipped in from his seat, toothpick between his lips. "Only one she wants to spend time with is Jacko."
Kevin gave him a nasty look, but Jack nodded softly in his direction, a silent thank you he seemed to catch on to.
"Why are you telling us this, though, man? What are we gonna do, throw her a party in this prison?" Miles asked sarcastically, throwing his hands around.
"I thought we could at least wish her a belated happy birthday or something. She's our friend, isn't she?"
Hugo looked around, deflated, trying to get support from the other boys but getting none. Charlie was too focused on his notebook, writing yet another song about how miserable he felt not having his guitar with him, trying his best to figure out a melody without an instrument. The others simply didn't seem to care.
It wasn't until they left that Jack told Hugo he would help him figure something out. Everybody loved Hugo for his heart and his empathy, Kate included, and while neither had any clue what to do, they knew she'd like whatever they came up with.
After six weeks at camp, they'd figured out that Lieutenant Nadler was the easiest one to manipulate, the one with a softer side. So after their morning activities that day, Hugo made good use of his loving personality to make use of the kitchen. He told the older man about their plan: bake a cake, get her flowers, and he'd been all too happy to help.
It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do on such short notice—or delayed notice, rather—and with few resources. While Hugo, ever the aspiring chef, handled cake duty, Jack went on a bit of a hike to find as many flowers as he could. While there wasn't much variety, he'd managed to pick enough to form a small bouquet.
Gifts in hand, the boys strutted along to Kate's house, bravely knocking on the door and hoping Mr. Austen's hospitality hadn't changed. Thankfully, Kate was the one who let them in, her mouth falling open at the sight of the cake and flowers. "Is that for me?"
"Yeah, happy belated birthday, Kate!" Hugo said, propping the cake on the nearest surface and pulling her into a tight hug.
"How did you guys know? I didn't tell anyone."
"A little birdy told us," Jack teased with a smile. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, my birthday's not really a big deal. All I wanted was to spend time with my dad, and that's why we went camping in the first place."
"Those two weeks you were gone, you were camping?" Hugo asked, and she nodded, taking the bouquet Jack offered her with a big smile and holding it close to her face so she could smell it. "Good to know you weren't mad at us. This guy wouldn't stop worrying."
"Hugo!" Jack snapped, but Kate just burst into a fit of giggles. The sound gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something he couldn't quite identify, but that he didn't want to go away.
They sat at the table, Kate offering each of them a plate before slicing the cake. She made sure they ate with her, despite their insistence that it was for her. "It's my birthday cake, my decision," she insisted. Later in the day, when her dad came home, both boys had frozen in place, but he'd just joined them, thanked them for the cake as he ate a slice, and told them to get going so they wouldn't be late for dinner and curfew.
On their way back to the cabins to get showered and ready for dinner, Hurley's words nearly stopped him in his tracks. "You know, you and Kate would make a really cute couple."
"I-I don't know what you mean, Hugo."
"Oh, come on, of course you do. I mean, I'm not blind, dude. You have feelings for her, and she clearly has feelings for you."
Jack simply shook his head, the need to deny it much grander than the nagging feeling in his gut that told him that Hugo was right, at least about the first part of his statement. He tried his best to shut down the thoughts of her— of them— through his shower, through dinner, through the boys' conversation while they were getting ready for bed.
Only once tucked into his bunk did Jack allow himself to think of Kate as he drifted into a restless sleep.
Jack had a very vague recollection of a competition being mentioned upon their arrival, but it wasn't until Kate mentioned it in the stalls a week earlier that he could grasp the event to come.
Every year, with each of the groups, the Army men would set a competition amongst the cabins. Each cabin would battle the others in the drills to see which one was most successful, and then they'd battle each other for the opportunity to go on a camping trip with two of the officials — a special couple of days away from camp as their reward.
While he knew it was important to make an effort to support his team, Jack didn't show any true interest in the reward until she told him that her dad was one of the two men who were going to supervise the trip, and that meant she was going too.
That was enough to have him take the daily drills more seriously, to the point of mentally timing the guys in his cabin to make sure they stood a chance. After that, he'd just have to be in shape enough to beat them.
Jack couldn't remember ever sweating that much, but his shirt was drenched by the time he crossed the finish line of the final race. His calves burned almost as much as his lungs, his breath still caught in his throat, since he'd held it during the last push.
He found himself crumbling to the ground, sitting to watch the others cross it right after him. Sawyer first, then Kevin. It was a shame, really. He'd honestly hoped Miles or Charlie would end up winning, too, considering the amount of training they'd put into the competition. The one Jack really wanted to win was Hurley, but he'd quit the moment the group won, when they were all pitted against each other. Unfortunately for Jack, he'd have to share the prize with the two boys from his cabin whom he most definitely didn't like.
Their reward was a camping trip for the weekend, on horseback, with Sergeant Major Sam Austen… and his daughter. Jack would be lying if he said that he hadn't been looking forward to it, that he wouldn't curse whoever won, if he hadn't. A whole weekend away with Kate, even if her dad was there, would be amazing. Except, now, he had to share it with Kevin and Sawyer.
"Looks like we're going on a trip together, Hero."
The moment he got on his horse, just a few hours later, he felt insecure.
He'd never been much of a rider; he could count on one hand the number of times he'd sat on the back of a horse, and almost all of those had been as a small child, being pulled by an adult. Watching Kate gallop ahead, getting smaller and smaller as she got further out of sight, made his stomach sink. Mainly because Sawyer was right behind her, riding confidently at a similar pace, showing off his skills.
Kevin was somewhere in between, at a canter, trying to dominate his stubborn horse. He'd complained about the mare from the moment they left camp, unsatisfied with not getting to pick, though Jack hadn't either. His tame mare had been picked for him by Sam, who knew how inexperienced he was and wanted to avoid injuries.
Sam stayed behind with him, at a slow trot, praising him despite the horse doing all the work. His hands were itching from how tightly he held the reins in them, both to ensure that Starlight would stay on course and that no one could see how badly he was shaking.
By the time they reached their campsite, the sun was going down, and Sam rushed them to put together their tents while it was still light out, giving clear yet simple instructions. The boys were meant to share a tent while Kate and her father would share another.
All three of them were on their best behavior, despite the minor hiccups with the tent as they fought each other over who was the one leading the trio. Jack had given up with a scoff, letting Kevin do most of the work and rolling his eyes when the boy boasted about his camping proficiency.
The more he talked, the more Jack had to fight his desire to smash his fist into his face, to feel his jaw crunching against his fingers. He couldn't do that. Not if he wanted to make it through the rest of camp, not if he wanted Kate and her father to still like him. (Not if he wanted to earn his father's respect, at least a little.)
Sam was quick to start a fire so they could gather around it. The evening had cooled everything down significantly, and Jack was grateful to have something warm to sit by. Kate popped out of their tent with a bag of marshmallows, a cheeky grin on her face, and he couldn't help but wonder how she'd managed to hide those from him and the boys.
He tried not to let his giddiness show when she took a seat next to him, on a towel by the fire, their arms almost touching. He caught the glare Kevin gave him, the bitterness in his eyes and the curve of his mouth. Still, his heart leapt in his chest at the thought of being picked out of all of them.
Sawyer immediately launched into horror stories, earning a laugh out of Sam and Kate, who remained unfazed, even amused. The stories, however, seemed to get the best out of Kevin, who left the rest to continue making s'mores and retired early for the night. "Wuss," Sawyer said, earning a stern look from Sam. "Sorry, boss."
"Is he always like that?" Kate whispered to him, hardly audible over the crackling of the fire. "I feel like every time he opens his mouth, something dumb comes out."
"Yeah, pretty much, I guess."
"Glad he hasn't rubbed off on you, then," she told him with a smile.
He laughed, losing himself in the sweet sparkle of her bright green eyes. "Me too."
Sam proposed a game of sorts; they'd share things about themselves and discuss them, something akin to a therapy session, according to one of Sawyer's witty comments that made Kate scoff.
Jack went with it, eager to please, but even more eager to learn more about Kate. Though she seemed to share a lot of herself with him, he still felt like he knew very little about her, as if she stayed mysterious on purpose.
Sawyer, however, didn't feel like playing along, coming up with blatant lies about himself until Sam, tired and unwilling to put up with it, called it a night and ushered them all to their tents.
Kate touched his shoulder briefly, just after she stood up, in a silent wish goodnight. Her touch still burned on his skin hours later as he tossed and turned in the boys' tent, his eyes firmly on the curve of the fabric just a couple of feet above him.
The tent was too warm with all three boys piled into it, and Sawyer's snores were impossible to ignore. It fascinated Jack how easily the guy could fall asleep anywhere, under any circumstances, without a care in the world. He wished he could be like that, but his mind was always too busy overthinking something to let him rest.
He focused on the way his body ached, from both the horseback riding and the competition. He should be wiped, exhausted, asleep the second he was horizontal in that tent, but it seemed his mind had other plans.
The rustling to his left startled him, and his breath hitched in his throat, fear immediately flooding him. Bears were unfortunately very common in Washington State, and, suddenly, Jack couldn't remember whether or not they'd put the rest of the marshmallows in the bear box.
His first thought was of Kate.
He couldn't shake the idea that, if it really was a bear, there was the possibility of attack, and there was nothing he or any of the others could do but sit and wait. Alerting anyone would only startle the animal, probably scare it into attacking them in the first place, to protect itself, as nature intended.
Jack counted to five, trying to calm himself down enough to take a peek out of the zipped door to the tent. It wasn't a wise decision, he knew. But he needed to be sure.
He carefully unzipped it, slowly, but as firmly as he could. The fire was almost out, contained by rocks they'd put around it to ensure it wouldn't spread. Right next to it sat Kate, who'd gone to bed along with them but who, much like him, seemed unable to sleep.
He watched her toss some sticks into the fire, poking it around until it grew stronger and only then did he finish unzipping the tent to step out. She noticed him right away, but neither said anything as he zipped it back up almost all the way and walked to her to take a seat as well.
"Can't sleep either?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly and stifling a yawn. "With how tired I am, you would've thought I'd be knocked out."
"Yeah, sleep didn't come for me either, but it didn't seem to be a problem for the other guys."
"Which one's snoring like an old truck?"
He beamed at her joke, her own smile decorating her lips. "Sawyer. He's a sound sleeper."
"I can tell."
Silence fell over them, comfortable and warm. They sat there, staring at the fire as it swayed and twirled, the flames dancing in the light breeze.
"I'm really glad you won, Jack." Her confession hit him softer… harder… in between. It was like she knew just how to get to him.
"Me too, Kate."
The world stilled when her eyes met his, the green now dark, overtaken by the deep desire they showed. She licked her lips, uncertain, but leaned into him bravely, and he welcomed her, tangling his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her to him until their lips met.
By the time he went to bed again, he had a smile on his face, and sleep came quickly. The smile remained when he woke up the next morning, alone in the tent. He could hear the others outside, talking, as he stretched, the happenings of the previous night all too fresh in his mind.
When he stepped out, his eyes immediately found Kate, her entire body curled into itself as she sat on the towel, her eyes on the floor. Jack's body immediately tensed, quickly reading into her body language as a sign of danger.
Only then did he notice Kevin.
"Ah, the man of the hour!"
Sawyer only watched it all unfold from his spot across from Kate. For once, he sported a solemn expression, instead of his casual mocking look.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself, or are you going to pretend nothing happened last night, too?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Kevin."
"So you weren't locking lips with Kate last night by the fire? What's her daddy going to say about that, huh, Hero?"
Jack froze, unsure how he knew. He was sure the other boys had been sleeping last night when he went out and found Kate, when they'd kissed. But then again, he'd been so distracted by her that he wouldn't have noticed it if something changed.
"Stay out of it, Kevin. It's none of your business," Kate growled from her spot, finally looking up off the floor.
"What? So you can go around dating one of the campers? Nah, Kate. If it's not me, it won't be anyone else."
Before Jack could do anything, Sawyer launched himself at Kevin and tackled him to the ground better than any football player Jack had ever seen on TV. The moment the blond had him pinned to the ground, he landed a punch against his jaw; the yelp that left Kevin's lips could certainly be heard from three states over. "Shut your trap or I'll shut it for ya, ya hear me?"
"What the fuck, man?"
"It's one thing for you to want 'er and be pissed Jack got 'er," Sawyer said, standing up and wiping the dirt off his jeans. Blood flowed freely from a cut on Kevin's lip, which swelled with each passing second. "It's another for you to threaten her for making a choice."
Jack would've never pegged Sawyer for such a wise guy, especially at their age. But if one thing had changed for the better, other than his romance with Kate, it was his respect for the other boy.
Maybe it was an ego thing, but Jack didn't fear people often. If anything, the person he feared most was his father, though that fear had mostly faded along with the respect he'd once felt for the man. But there was something about the way Sam Austen called him into his office that made his bones chill.
He'd dragged his body to the small building, far off the corner of the lake, closer to the Austen house. His legs felt like lead, like he was trudging through mud, knee deep. Yet he braved through, taking deep breaths and going through the last week in his mind.
Jack couldn't remember doing anything wrong. His behavior had been stellar, for the most part, and, if he were to compare it to the beginning, he'd only improved, even somewhat befriending Sawyer after that weekend when the winning ensemble had gone camping.
He cherished that weekend more than anything, held onto it and the hope it represented every night before bed, knowing his days around Kate were counted. He'd never felt that way for anyone, especially not for any of the girls in his class, whom he'd had even more contact with.
It was like they expected him to be someone he wasn't, just because he fit a certain stereotype. The last thing he wanted was to perpetuate the idea that just because he was rich and a football player, he should be a player too when it came to women. He had no desire to date anyone. At least, not anyone that wasn't Kate.
She saw him. He didn't have to pretend to be anything or anyone else around her; he could just be himself and, for once, that seemed like it was enough.
"Come in, son," Sam said once he gathered up enough courage to knock on the door.
"You requested me, sir?"
"Yes, but no need to 'sir' me. This isn't camp business."
Jack swallowed hard, his mouth sand-dry, and took a seat as the man gestured to him, rubbing both hands nervously against his pants. "What is this about then?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"This is about Katie."
"What about her, sir?" The tremble in his voice gave away his nerves, as if his fidgeting hadn't been enough for an intelligent man like Sam to notice. Still, Jack cursed himself, angry that he didn't have more control over something he considered so basic.
"My daughter likes you, Jack." The man sighed, looking down at his desk briefly before his eyes met his again, stone cold. "I always knew this day would come. With Katie hanging around you boys at this age, it was bound to happen, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon. Or that it'd be like this."
Jack remained silent, expectant, but Sam said nothing else. "Like this, how, sir?"
Sam ignored his question, instead leaning back and crossing both arms over his chest, his face even more serious than before, though Jack didn't think that was humanly possible. "What are your intentions with my daughter, Jack?"
"Sir, I-" Right as his hands started to shake, Sam let out a hearty laugh that echoed through the room, bouncing on the walls, deep and strong.
"I'm just messing with you, boy."
"I don't… I don't understand."
"Listen, son, my daughter likes you," he repeated firmly, leaning over the desk towards Jack. "All I ask is that you're kind to her and treat her well. You're both young, there's a lot ahead, and this is likely no more than a summer lovin'. Don't break my little girl's heart."
"I… I like her too, sir." He admitted, not bothering to fight the small smile that pulled at his lips. "A lot."
"I know. I can tell. Treat her well and I won't give you trouble."
"You've got it, sir. Thank you."
Jack wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and stood, but just as he started for the door, Sam spoke up. "Meet us at the house for dinner again tonight. Katie's cooking."
The defeat was visible in her posture, in the way her eyes wouldn't leave her shoes as she stood near the bus. It broke his heart to see her like that, but it hurt him even more to leave her, to leave the camp where he felt like he'd found himself.
They'd talked about it that week. Their time together was running out, and they both knew it. She'd taken the time to join them for all their activities, lunches included, and, every evening, Jack had joined her either for dinner at the Austen house or to watch the stars on the porch right after.
"California's really far away," she'd mumbled one night, looking at the specs of light in the sky — yet another thing he would miss; he could hardly see them in Los Angeles. "Even further, because I'll be in Iowa again."
"Do you really have to go?"
Home wasn't something she talked about often, and he didn't push. As someone from a difficult, complicated household, he knew sometimes it was better to just leave it alone.
"Yeah, my mom needs me. But I'll be here for Christmas, and then again next summer. Maybe my dad and I can take a trip down there and see you."
"I'd really like that." He covered her hand with his and smiled to himself when she let her head rest on his shoulder.
"Me too."
"Maybe I can visit you, too. Either here or there. My Dad gets called in for surgery consults all over the country. I can offer to tag along, he's always trying to get me to go with him, anyway."
"Here, sure. At home… It's probably best if you don't.
Jack had faith that they'd actually see each other again. That the feeling that burned deep in his chest wouldn't die down. But something told him it wouldn't.
Maybe it was the way she smiled at him when he saw it, or how that sparked a memory of a conversation they'd had about the colleges they were interested in. A lot of them matched, and it gave him hope that they'd eventually have a more permanent presence in each other's lives.
With those conversations, he'd made up his mind, and he had a difficult conversation ahead with his father. Christian wouldn't be happy, but Jack was ready to face him and tell him he'd rather go to pre-law instead. He'd always had a strong sense of justice, and he felt like becoming a lawyer, defending people who couldn't defend themselves, or afford someone who would, would be a good way to fulfill that need.
"You're beautiful," he whispered just as he reached her and pulled her tightly into his arms. "I'm really going to miss you, Kate."
She clutched his shoulders even tighter, her fingers digging into the skin so hard it hurt, but he didn't care. It meant she felt the same way, and, to him, that was enough.
Kate pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, her clear green orbs filled with tears. "Promise me you'll write."
"Every day, Kate. I'll write every day. I promise."
She nodded and buried her face in his chest, both of them ignoring the glances they got from the boys boarding the bus. Some shouted teasing remarks their way, but neither of them really listened. "I'll write to you too."
"Good. It'll give me something good to look forward to."
"C'mon, Lover Boy. Y'er the only one left," he heard Sawyer call from the bus door, his grin noticeable in his tone.
Pulling away from her was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. His chest tightened, his heart ached. With each step he took towards the bus and onto it, his body felt heavier, slower, like something kept pulling him back to her, instead.
She stood there, right out the window he'd taken a seat by, a small, sad smile on her lips as she waved a final (temporary) goodbye. He focused on her, trying to memorize every little detail, every freckle, the way the light shone on her messy hair, and, as the bus drove off back to California, he held onto the hope that in a year they'd be together again.