Kinda Demanding ((Jack))

[Mackenzie Holden]

All summer, Mack had seen one person from school – not including Dixie, and that was Adrian. Someone she really hadn’t enjoyed her time with. The one person she had wanted to see, she didn’t. At all. Which was why she sent him an owl with a ticket for a seat in the box Hank had rented out for the world cup. Of course, Trevor wasn’t there – him still being in a coma. Neither was Hank or Pam, considering they thought they should remain at home in case something happened. Dixie didn’t want to spend all her time watching a ‘stupid Quidditch game.’ So Mack had four extra tickets, and one went to Jack. The rest went to waste. She supposed she could have given one to Hollows, one to Cass, one to someone else, and the other to another person she could tolerate. But she wanted to spend some time with Jack – alone. Just because she hadn’t really talked to him since that night in the Astronomy tower.

Mack had left her house, and had arrived to the camp field around maybe noon. She set up her tent, and then headed to the stadium. Waiting for Jack to arrive so she can bother him and ask him about his summer. The wind blew at her hair as she made her way up the stands to her box. It was a good seat, and Mack was quite happy they had it to themselves. She finally sat down, pulling at her jeans so they didn’t go up so high on her ankles – she needed to buy new jeans already. And made sure she had everything else she needed. She counted her money to make sure she could buy souvenirs for her family and something for Trevor because she knew he would be upset that he missed the world cup. Maybe she could get autographed photos?

She was so deep in thoughts she didn’t even notice someone come up next to her until they made their existence known.

((Sorry so short. ))

[Jack Rendel S5]

Jack looked about listlessly at the crowd thronging near the stadium. He felt lost among the blur of faces. Some were familiar while others were exotic. Some of the die-hard fans had decorated their faces and bodies to cheer on their team and their arms were laden with souvenirs. Jack's money weighed heavily in his pocket, yet he still wasn't quite sure which team he was rooting for. Why had he come here again? Ah yes, for Mack's sake. Admittedly her letter had been unexpected and when the ticket fell out he was even more surprised. Father, of course, wasn't exactly thrilled about the thought of his son gallivanting off to the Quidditch World Cup with a Holden. So he had thrown a fit, but luckily hadn't forbade Jack to go. He wasn't quite sure what had held Father back in the end - maybe he was growing soft in his old age, who knew?

Mack. He hadn't seen her in so long. They hadn't talked since that time in the Tower, a conversation he had often replayed in his mind. What with Father hovering around and Haille being the annoying whiner she always was, things had been... difficult. He hadn't gotten any free time to himself in such a long time he forgot what it felt like. Now that he was here by himself, he felt so lonely and small that he nearly felt like leaving and apologizing to Mack later. Jack couldn't ever do that to her though, and he would only regret it later if he did. So with a deep breath, he shoved his way through the entrance to the stadium. Of course then he had to look around for the right stairs to the box and when he found them, he didn't look forward to the daunting climb. Sighing, he made his way up, looking curiously at other inhabitants in different boxes.

When he finally reached the correct box, Jack hesitated. He saw Mack there (he had been able to see her for a while, for the she was the only one in the box), but his courage failed him. They hadn't talked in so very long. What if she had changed? What if he had changed and she didn't like him anymore? He took a deep breath and slowly approached her, confused when no greeting came. At first he was hurt, thinking she was ignoring him - and frustrated too - but then he realized she hadn't noticed him yet. Jack waved his hand in front of her face rather cockily, but when their eyes met, he was wearing a sincere smile. "Hey, Mack," he greeted, his eyes scanning her face. The summer had been a long time. He had nearly been driven mad, not seeing her or any other person the whole summer except for Father and Haille. Even Padme had escaped him. He settled into the chair next to Mack, assuming that it was his. "Thanks for inviting me and all. I would have been stuck at home. Again." He grinned and asked the anticipated question, "so how was your summer? You look healthy enough." He wondered how he looked. Peaked, perhaps, from missing out on sunny days? Tired or frustrated, eager and excited - for he was excited. Excited to be here with Mack. For he had missed her. A lot.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack took her eyes away from her lap, which she had been staring at as she thought about everything, when she heard the voice she had longed to hear all summer long. She looked up at Jack, and immediately felt her stomach start to flutter. What if something had changed? What if he had gone back with that dreadful Felicity girl? Mack mentally shuddered and pushed all those fears down as she watched Jack sit and thank her for inviting her. She smiled slightly, and shrugged as he asked how her summer was. Mack hadn’t written to him at all. No updates on what happened over the summer. So, naturally, Jack didn’t know Trevor was in a coma in the hospital. Naturally, he didn’t know that Trevor might not come out of said coma, and naturally – he was oblivious to how much Mack had bonded with Trevor while she was caring for him the couple of days before he did go into said coma. So when it came time for her to answer his question, Mack’s tongue froze to the rough of her mouth and she looked down.

But before that, her face was bright with happiness as she greeted him. A smile crossed her face. An actual smile that hadn’t graced anyone’s presence for nearly three months. After Kris left, it was in a permanent scowl. But, just the sight of Jack and talking to him – being there with him, made her so much happier than she had been in ages. She controlled the urge to wrap her arms around him and hug him, seeing as she didn’t know how much he had changed or if he had changed at all. “Hey,” she replied coolly, “I actually had four extra tickets. Because, mum and Hank couldn’t make it… and Dixie didn’t want to spend her week at a match that didn’t interest her. Trevor’s um…” This was where her smile froze, and then wilted, and her tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth. She ran her fingers tiredly through her blonde hair and sighed before turning her gaze to the Quidditch pitch. The teams were in the opening spot, and then the game started. She didn’t bother to cheer. She was still trying to think of a way to answer this. To tell Jack that Trevor, one of the people he disliked the most, was in a coma and Mack was scared.

Her eyes flew back to Jack, and quietly she said; “Trevor’s in the hospital. He’s in a coma. Has been all summer. That’s why mum and Hank couldn’t make it. They’re with him at the hospital.” She searched his face for any sign of reaction, and then sighed again – slouching in her seat.

[Jack Rendel S5]

Jack nearly drowned in the wave of emotions he felt when Mack looked at him, so full of happiness, and smiled. Her face was bright and she looked happier than Jack had seen her in a long time. It felt good to be the cause of it all - so good that he had trouble staying in his seat. Grinning, Jack let his worries wash away. He felt more pure than he had in a long time. The Quidditch players came out on the field and the game began, but he didn't notice. He lost himself in her words, her happiness... everything about her. Of course he didn't openly stare - he did it as surreptitiously as possible. He just couldn't contain himself. She had explained why her mum and Bradshaw senior couldn't come. When she moved on to the Git, however, she seemed to freeze. Jack's own smile faltered uncertainly, wondering if he had done something wrong. Her silence disturbed him but he didn't question her - he knew that it would be better if he respected her silence than foolishly ask her annoying questions.

Then she talked. He watched her lips move, heard the words, but it took a few seconds for them to impact him in any way. Trevor... coma... hospital... Jack stared at her blankly. No way! No - it couldn't be true. Disbelief was written all over his face. Trevor, the hateful little git who couldn't mind his own business - in a coma? Would he never wake? Jack was afraid to ask. He wasn't sure what Mack expected him to feel - pity, shock, anger, confusion, satisfaction? He felt a little bit of everything. A dark cloud passed his face as he tried to hide it all from Mack. "I'm sorry," he whispered when he was sure she was wondering whether he had gone mute. Then he stopped. What else was there to say? So many questions whirled around his head, so many worries. He wanted to blab them out, he wanted to leave the Game, and yet he felt an urge to laugh. Laugh at the unbelievable. Of course he didn't. Mack wouldn't like it if he did.

"Is he... will he..." he trailed off like a blabbering fool, though he thought Mack would understand. Could she read his eyes? If so, he then wouldn't have to explain - which would be such a relief. He searched within himself to find two questions that would be simple and not too inquisitive, as he didn't want to pry and prod. He knew only too well what that felt like. Jack tried to imagine Trevor in the hospital, covered in bandages and blood, (was he badly hurt?) and with eyes closed. Or did people in comas stare straight ahead of them, with such a blank look it scared the living daylights out of visitors? Hadn't he seen things like that in movies, or was his imagination getting the better of him? Another thought wormed into his head, one that clearly stated the undeniable, for he hated Trevor with a passion. He deserved it. He really, really did.... Didn't he? Finally he found his tongue once more and neither tripped nor stuttered, for these words were simple, yet powerful. "How? " he asked, staring at Mack with wide eyes, disbelief still shadowed there. "Why?"

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack moved her eyes to the Quidditch pitch once again as Jack seemed to have lost his voice. She sat in the silence, watching the game. When Germany scored, there was a loud scream and cheer from the German fans. But although Mack saw them scream and the laughter on the faces, she didn’t hear it. Any of it. Her mind was too busy thinking about everything. How happy she was to see Jack, how happy she was that nothing had changed between them and how much she had missed him. And how distraught she still was over Trevor being in a coma, although that happened nearly two months ago. Shouldn’t she be over it by now? Deep down inside, Mack knew that someone didn’t get over something that quickly – not even her. She looked back at Jack as he stammered out four words. Of course, he didn’t finish the sentence – but she knew what he was asking. And all she could do was shrug and look down again.

There was another silence that seemed to like them. When Mack looked up at the match again, she watched a fan across the field – cheering with a flag that had the Spanish colours. They were laughing and shouting, having a grand old time. Mack felt immediate rage and envy boil inside her. Why couldn’t she have that? What did she do to deserve pain and misfortune? She wasn’t a bad person. She did what she was told, and she hardly ever did anything that constitute as ‘sinful.’ So why was that God seemed to like to harm her, or someone she loved or was loyal to? Why was it that life was so unfair to her… Then again, who said life was fair? She sighed again and sat up a bit more in her seat, her blonde hair being slightly tugged because she had been leaning against it and the back of the chair. She winced slightly and pulled it over her shoulder so it didn’t get caught between her and the chair again, while Jack looked at her with wide eyes and asked his questions.

They were easy questions. Easy for a quiz, or a test, maybe. But not for her. Not at this moment. Mack picked at the silver nail polish on her fingernails and sent another shrug in Jack’s direction. She let the silence, that stupid silence, settle around them for a bit longer and then she looked up, with slight tears in her eyes. They quickly disappeared though and blazing anger appeared; “He’s a moron, that’s how. Placing bets at the tracks. Losing the bet and then not paying them back. He’s a moron and I hate him. I hate how he dragged me and Jamie into it and I hate that he thought it was funny.” Her blue eyes sparked, not literally, with anger and hurt and then she stopped picking at her nails and crossed her arms harshly across her chest. “He’s a stupid stupid stupid git, and he probably deserves it anyway. He probably deserves worse.”

[Jack Rendel S5]

Jack watched the game, but didn't see anything. The noise of the crowd was a distant buzzing in his ears - always present but never was he fully aware of what was going on. He licked his lips nervously; he could still taste the questions on his tongue, feel them on his lips, and hear them lingering in the air, as if on a breeze. Jack wanted them to be carried away and forgotten evermore, for they would only bring bitterness, the same bitterness he saw on Mack's face. He tried to find the right words that surely should come after them, but they escaped him. He was never good with these things. Instead he merely watched silently as Mack blew off steam that had to be built up for... the whole summer, perhaps. Jack listened, his eyes never leaving her face as if that would calm her. He didn't even attempt to speak, afraid that he would be betrayed by words - words that didn't work conveniently for him anymore.

"No one deserves to be permanently attached to a bed all day. Not that it'll be permanent or anything," he added quickly, horrified at his word choice. He looked back at the players moving around the field. Germany had scored, but so far the game was harsh and unrelenting. Just like life, in a weird way. He suddenly smiled, even if it was bitter, but didn't turn to face Mack. "Don't get me wrong, Trevor's not one of my favorite people. In fact, I hated him. Hated him like I hate my father, Haille, everyone else who makes my life a living hell. But... sometimes I wished Trevor would just die. You know, suffer and die for the things he did to you or said. Now that this happened though..." He reached over and stroked Mack's hair as easily as if it was a natural movement. He liked it blonde, for that was the real Mack. His Mack. The Mack he knew since third year. "Now I wish I could take it all back." He took back his hand and smiled such a sad smile it surprised even himself.

"Seems like all the bad things happen to us, doesn't it?" Jack whispered, looking straight through Mack. "I don't see why. We never did anything. We were innocent." He chewed on his lower lip and looked down at the floor, feeling very awkward and yet he wanted to continue. Around Mack he could be open, instead of constantly worrying what the listener will think of him and his family. Mack was... well, one of the best things that ever happened to him. So he usually dropped the act he was expected to play by everyone and was himself. He was Jack Rendel - the real thing - around her. "It's like the strangest feeling, you know?" he continued, staring at the players zooming around the field. "Once I think it can get no worse, something else happens. Sort of like swimming against the tide. There's only so much I can take until I get tired." He sighed unhappily. "And then go under. We're over our heads in bad luck, and I always look up and see the light - the possibilities, you know? All the maybes. But how far down do we have to be before there is no light?" He bit his lip hard. "How long until then?" He looked back at Mack. "I don't want to seem like I'm blaming you, but I expected to have more fun here instead of hearing more bad news. I thought I could escape. But... we're fighting the inevitable, it seems. And we're sinking - fast."

[Mackenzie Holden]

She stared straight ahead, not even looking over at him when he stroked her hair. Though, when he stopped – she wished he hadn’t. Again, she had to control that urge to just throw her arms around him. Mack didn’t know what she wanted more. To have him hold her, or to have the feeling of being safe in his arms. When she wasn’t with him, or wasn’t hugging him – she felt vulnerable. Weak, even. Mack didn’t like that feeling. But she figured there was a time and a place for that. And right now, probably wasn’t either. When he started talking about their bad fortune, her eyes moved to him. And by the time he was done, she was looking at him completely – her head turned and all. She shook her head, “Don’t do that.” Mack traced his bottom lip with her thumb, “It might become habit and then you’ll have scabby lips.” She pulled her hand back and tucked her hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat and shrugged, something she was doing an awful lot lately.

“If you think like that, it will turn out that way. Don’t think like it’s all bad. There’s good in this evening, too. Like, ok, we haven’t seen each other all summer long. I was afraid that everything would be weird… awkward… and you might not see the same thing you saw in me two years ago…” She rolled her eyes into her head, doing the math, “Yep, about two years. But it seems like everything is the way it was…before we left Hogwarts, and even before that. Unless you’re just waiting to spring it on me…” Mack felt her stomach tighten at that thought, but she continued on anyway; “I mean, yeah, bad luck pretty much follows me… us… everywhere. But we deal with it. We deal. It’s what we do, isn’t it? Yeah, it gets really tiring after awhile. But with lives like ours, there’s nothing we can do but deal…” She brought her legs up underneath her so she seemed to be a bit taller in her seat. Propping her head up on her hand, Mack sighed and closed her eyes.

“For the record, you asked.” She replied with a smirk. Things with Jack were always so… normal. So laid back, well, mostly. Mack didn’t know what it was or what made it so she could just talk to him, but she liked it. A lot. She liked how Jack made everything so easy to understand… or maybe she thought he did. Maybe others found him very confusing. But what mattered was she knew. She understood.

[Jack Rendel S5]

He almost flinched when he felt Mack's cool fingers slide over his lip, which was already rather worn for wear, being chewed on so much. Jack sighed and his eyes searched the game once more, though it only appeared a blur to him. He still felt her fingers there even after she had taken them back. Strange how simple a motion like that can cause such chaos. Not that Jack let it show, but inside he was nearly exploding with pent up emotions. It was difficult to keep his face as calm as it had been before but somehow he managed. "I've had a lot to chew on lately," he said in a much smaller voice than intended. He cleared his throat as if that was the problem, but it wasn't. The problem was... everything. His whole life was a problem.

The corners of his lip cut into his cheek like a slash mark as he thought over what Mack was saying. All of it made sense, but Jack's whole overview on life had always been dark, yet he remembered a time when Mack's had been darker. "That time in the rain... do you remember that? In our third year? You've changed a lot since then," he noted, his eyes turning to her. It was a blank stare, as if he was looking right through her, back to a distant time. "Not that it's a bad change. You're just different from then and... yeah, different is good." He managed to explain in his own strange way. He didn't want Mack to think he thought of her different, for she had expressed that she had been afraid he might have changed. So he didn't want to give her unnecessary worry. He still liked her just the same - if not more. He knew that, but saying it to her was a totally different thing.

"There's no bad news. Just the regular. Father still doesn't approve of... of us." He wasn't sure why he had put emphasis on "us" but it was true. Father didn't like the whole Jack and Mack idea, friends or... or more than friends. Either way, he hated seeing his son fraternize with the enemy, as he liked to call it. Jack still was unsure why Father hated the Holden's as much as he did; he never got the nerve to ask, so chances were, he would never truly know. He frowned; "That's the thing, Mack. I hate doing nothing but dealing with what life gives us. Can't we decide our own future? Can't we do something about it? It's like being helpless and I hate that feeling. I hate it." He stared at the ground and chewing on his lip again was really tempting, but he held back. Scabby lips didn't sound too pleasant.

[Mackenzie Holden]

"You chew on your lips and you remind me of Dixie when she wouldn't speak at all." Mack whispered, though she knew it was loud enough for him to hear. She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear and continued to watch the match, though her mind was completely elsewhere. She was thinking about before Dixie was put into the mental hospital, about how things were so hectic then. Now they kind of just had settled down into a quiet routine, disregarding Trevor - who didn't really count anyway. As bad as that sounded, Mack really didn't think of Trevor being in a coma something that she needed to 'over react' about. There were only certain things like; Dixie being insane, her father divorcing her mother and taking everything, Jack getting a girlfriend she couldn't stand (what was that chick's name? Felicofocus?), and some other juvenile things. But Trevor being in a coma is bound to turn out right and wonderful, so why over react over something that is going to end happily? Mack sighed and turned her gaze to Jack as she heard his voice.

She heard what he was saying, but she didn't comprehend it until a few moments later when he was talking about his father. She stared at him, her eyes a dark and dangerous blue and finally she lowered her gaze to her hands after he had finished asking questions that she didn't really know the answers to. Mack picked at her nail polish, watched the black flecks float off her hand to the ground below. She looked back up, this time with some fire in her icy blue eyes; "I've changed, have I?" She stared at him a moment and then sighed, "Even if it is a good change, it's still a change and change for me is bad. I don't want to change who I was, who I am. I want to be the Mack you knew two years ago - the Mack you spilled butterbeer all over. But maybe that Mack has left the building. Maybe this Mack will have to stay..." Her eyes darkened even more and she looked down at her hands again before shrugging and picking off more of the black nailpolish on her fingers.

"And look where deciding our future will get us, like our parents. At least mine will. I just... am going where life takes me and if I run into a few bumps and turns every now and then, so be it. But I want to live life like I've never lived it before..."

[Jack Rendel S5]

Jack stared at Mack, his eyes narrowing. "Don't," he pleaded. "Don't say things like that." He didn't like being told he reminded Mack of Dixie in any way, he didn't even like mentioning her. She was a lost case in Jack's opinion, and he acted like she was some sort of plague. Talk about her and she'll rub off on you. Jack had never liked Dixie and he still didn't, though he often felt pity for her cause. Father, being the nosy socialist, had figured out that Dixie had entered that one institution, but he didn't know for a fact that she was actually crazy. For all he knew, her Father had put her in there for good riddance. Jack sighed to himself; he didn't want to think about Father either. No, him least of all. He had wanted to enjoy this time with Mack, but instead they were talking about all the bad things that ever happened to them. He sometimes needed to let those things out too, but at a Quidditch World Cup game it just didn't seem right. Jack found himself wishing that Mack hadn't told him about Trevor's situation. That's what had started it all.

Jack was trying to train his eyes on the Quidditch game, but found it increasingly difficult as Mack continued to talk. She didn't say much, but she didn't have to. He could feel her eyes on him and he whimped out and refused to look at her. For he knew what he would see in her eyes, and he wasn't sure how to respond to that. By the time she said she wanted to live life like never before, Jack couldn't help it - he looked at her, long and hard. Then, not allowing himself time to think about it, he snaked his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close into a hug. Jack wasn't much of a mushy person, as he liked to call it. He wasn't one for hugs or kisses or close contact even. So Mack must've known this was a rare occassion, and he was doing it just to tell her what he couldn't possibly put into words. "Oh Mack," he breathed, holding her close. He could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair. He smiled down at her, though she probably didn't see it.

"You're my Mack. No matter if you change into your parents or if you try to make the best of your life from now on. If you change or simply stay the same, or dye your hair again - it doesn't matter. You're still my Mack and you always will be."

[Mackenzie Holden]

When Jack put his arm around her and pulled her into a hug, Mack was first shocked but then over come with joy. They hadn’t hugged much, and kissed… less than they’ve hugged. Which was fine and dandy for Mack, she wasn’t much for that anyway. But it was nice to feel his arms around her, to feel that she was safe at least for a split second in time. When he whispered her name, Mack closed her eyes and wished them away from the stadium – and the sounds died away from them although they were still there. She listened to his soothing words, words that said she would always be his Mack, no matter how she changed. Words like that was music to her ears, and Mack knew music. Mack knew music very well.

“Promise?” She asked in a tone that was so unlike her regular voice. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked him to promise that, but she wouldn’t feel assured unless he did. Perhaps that was something that was too hard to promise, but he said it… would it be any different from promising it? Mack turned so she could look at him, a smile on her lips – but a small one, a scared one. He was right, everything seemed to happen to them. All these bad things did, and Mack was getting tired of dealing with them as well. Maybe she just had more patience than he did, but it didn’t matter if he wasn’t there with her. She didn’t want to lose him. That would be one bad thing that Mack wouldn’t be able to deal with, at all.

Life before Jack was pure hell. He was the only person who really kept her sane; otherwise she would be in a loony bin with Dixie. Mack often found herself wondering how she had gone through two years before actually getting to know Jack. Now that she couldn’t see her happy without him, how did he become such an imperative part of her life?