"Jack. What're you doing way out here?"
I looked up from the ground I had been sleeping on to see Mo. "No one likes me so I'm staying out here."
He sat down beside me. "No one likes you huh?"
"Nope."
"That's a shame. You're a nice kid."
I looked over at him. "Nice doesn't get you anywhere. You just turn into a doormat or a punching bag," I said.
"I'm certain people like you, Jack."
"Not according to Cupid."
"What's Cupid know other than love and hate? Liking something and disliking something isn't something he gets. Love and Hate are the only thing Cupid can get. He doesn't hate you and I don't think he loves you, but since he doesn't understand liking someone or disliking someone, he just acts hateful towards you. Hateful, but not real hate. See what I mean?"
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"He talks to me a lot," he said.
"I can see why."
He smirked. "I think it's time you went home, Jack. Your mom is worried about you. It's nine at night."
"I know..."
"I'll take you home," I said.
"It's a full moon tonight, though."
"I know. Hop on my back."
I did as he said and was curious to know if he'd take me to be a face in the moon tonight. He told me to close my eyes and I did so. I was enraptured into all white, and when I woke up - it was morning and I was in my bed. I heard Mom laugh from the kitchen, a rare noise to hear. I got up and went to the kitchen to see Mom smiling, looking younger and more alive. She was at the table drinking coffee with Mo.
"Morning dear," Mom said when she saw me.
"Morning," I yawned. "What happened last night?"
"You went to the moon," Mo said.
"Really?"
"Yep. There were two faces last night."
"Cool," I said smiling.
I went to my room and put on my blue pants and white sweater that kind of twinkled in the light. I styled my white hair and put on my deodorant. Then I put on mint perfume and shoes, kissed Mom goodbye, said thanks to Mo, and walked to school. It was still cool outside but there was no snow of course and nothing was green either. It was brown and dead but had the potential to grow. I didn't hate summer. I enjoyed some parts of it, but I'm Jack Frost. Snow is my thing. I blew in my hands, creating a little pile of snow. I tossed it up above my head, closing my eyes as it cascaded around me. I sighed, missing it. I was always depressed the first few days after my snow was gone. It was still technically winter, but winter wasn't my thing. Snow was my thing. Winter was mom's thing. She's Mother Winter. On March 21st, winter would be over and she'd be on vacation. June 20th summer would start. September 22nd autumn would start. December 21st winter would start.
I reached school and walked past everyone in the halls. Most ignored me, but a few would just look at me, whispering behind my back. I went into my classroom and pulled out my sketchpad, where I started on a new drawing of a snowflake. I don't know how, but it was instinct for me to create new snowflakes that weren't like any other. I just somehow knew which ones were already used. Maybe it's the same way that Cupid knows who's in love and who's not. It's instinct.
After I finished one intricate snowflake, I sighed and looked at the stupid fairy couple on the other side of the room, oblivious to anyone other than each other. I had hardly any hope I'd ever fall in love. No one liked me and they'd never get past the fact I made snow, which they probably hated. Plus, to find someone who can tolerate snow who's also a guy is very slim. I'm probably the only gay guy in the spirit world. I wish the humans could allow homosexuality in their lives. Some do, but not most. Then I'd come out and maybe others would come out, too. If I ever fell for a guy we probably wouldn't be able to be together. I actually have no idea what most people think of gay people. I only know a lot of humans don't like it, but what about us? I don't know. If they're fine with it, it still probably wouldn't happen because it's my job to create someone else to create snow.
"Hey kid," Drake said entering and sitting next to me.
"Hey," I mumbled.
"I'm sorry winter's postponed," Drake said, oblivious to my confusion.
"Oh, oh well."
He sighed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Mary and Gabriel are dating," he said with a frown. His shaggy black hair grazed his eyebrows.
"Oh. Sorry. I don't see why she'd date him. He's kind of a..."
"Wimp?" Drake said.
"Yeah. She needs someone who's just as...bloody as her."
"Exactly. That's me." He sighed again.
"She'll figure it out sooner or later. She needs to get through the losers first to get to the good guys.
He smirked. "Maybe you're right."
I stood up. "Maybe you'll have to be the first one to make a move," I said.
A long time ago, Cupid and I were fighting. As I talked to Drake I remembered Cupid once saying, "I make all of your friends like you. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any friends."
The thought of this pissed me off. I told Drake I would be right back. I went through the school to the gym area. I walked outside, smiling as the wind blew past me. At least it was still cold, which I liked better than being hot. It was still dark outside and I knew it would be all day. It might even possibly rain, and I really liked the rain, too. It's like a mutual friend that I want to be like a good friend, so to speak.
It was incredibly dark out actually. One of those darknesses where it seems darker than normal. Definite rain. It was comforting actually, and eerily beautiful. Though in the mass of darkness, I could see something glowing dimly in the distance. Everyone knew Cupid would glow a little, literally, but no one was sure why. They thought it had something to do with his beauty, but he never said what made him glow. I walked out to him where he was practicing his archery. No one could compare to his shooting skills, and he could hit any target at any angle in any situation. He had been doing it since he was born, so of course he was a sharp shooter. And yet, snow, rain, or shine, he was out on the fields every day before school. He always challenged himself, but I don't know how because some of the targets were ones I could hit, so it must've been something deeper.
He didn't notice me as I stood slightly off, watching him concentrate intensely on three targets. That was another thing. He could shoot multiple arrows at a time and perfectly hit the targets. Though he only had one arrow. He moved it to the one on the left, and it sailed gracefully through the air, hitting the target in the center. He walked over and grabbed it, then looked at the arrow and target, seeing something I didn't. He sighed, looking disappointed. He then placed something on the target again, something so small I couldn't see it. He walked back to his spot and aligned his arrow.
"What do you want?" he asked, not looking at me.
"I didn't think you noticed me," I said.
"You're wearing white, your skin is practically white, and your hair is white. How could I not notice you in the dark?" He hit the center target and walked over. He groaned angrily and ripped each of the little things off of each target. He packed up all his stuff, me noticing that the stuff he hung on the targets weren't much of anything except for fabric or something small and similar. He faced me. "Well?"
"Do you really make my friends like me?" I asked. "If you do, then why? I didn't think you liked me, so why do something nice for me?"
"Just because I hate someone doesn't mean I'm not nice to them." There it was. Hate. I guess Mo was right. "But no, I don't make them be your friends. I just said that because you really made me mad."
"Do you really hate me?"
"Yes."
"No you don't," I said.
"Yes I do."
"No you don't. You just don't like me, but you don't understand like and dislike." I shrugged.
"I kind of hate you. It's not as deep as some hate for others," he said.
"See? Kind of hating someone is disliking someone."
"Hate and Love. That's all there is."
"That's what you think, but everyone else dislikes or likes someone. What about couples who aren't really in love? So do they hate each other then?" I asked.
"No. They love each other but it's not true love. Like and dislike don't justify feelings. You and everyone else express hate and love in such extreme ways that you don't know how you feel about anyone. That's why I'm here. When you say you like someone you might like them a little or a lot or so much that it's love but you just don't realize it."
"Everyone says love and hate get tossed around a lot."
"But nobody looks at it the way I do," he said loudly. "You just don't understand. Nobody does. That's why I'm Cupid and nobody else is."
"But how am I suppose to know what extent I hate or love someone?" I asked. I was confused.
"You're not," he said a bit more gently. "And you shouldn't care. Just do what comes naturally and let me do the rest so then I can make sure it's right for you and everyone else."
"Like I'll actually fall in love," I grumbled.
"I already know who's going to fall in love and who's going to be alone. Unfortunately there are people who fall in love but I miss them and so they end up alone or in a sham relationship where they're not really happy. Or two people who are meant to be alone because they never come in contact with their soulmate go with someone they don't love."
"So you don't make two people meet?"
"I can't. I keep an eye on couples and some I can tell instantly they won't be together, like Mary and Gabriel, but for most it's in the middle. I watch them and when they hit true love then I shoot them. This is a complex job, okay?"
"Have you ever shot someone with a permanent silver arrow?" I asked. Cupid had gold and silver arrows. Silver arrows made people hate each other. Gold ones made them love each other. Some weren't permanent, but the permanent ones were irreversible. So if Cupid shot somebody with a gold arrow and it was the wrong person, then they would be in love with the wrong person forever. He usually only used his semi-permanent arrows, which gave couples a boost in the right direction.
He looked at me, being silent. "I'm not going to answer that question, which means neither no nor yes. I'm just not going to answer. Why am I telling you all this anyway?"
"I don't know...so am I going to fall in love?" I asked, smiling. I wanted to know.
"I'm not going to answer that either, so you might or you might not," he said.
"Do you fall in love, or do you just pick somebody?"
He sighed. "I'm not going to answer that either."
I rolled my eyes. "I probably won't fall in love. I don't know anyone else - like me."
"You mean gay?"
I blushed ferociously. "What?"
"Jack, I know you're gay. I know everyone's sexuality. It's instinct."
"Well, don't tell anyone," I said, blushing.
"I haven't yet, and yes - there are other gay people in the world. Abe and Bigfoot."
"I know, but who would like me anyway?"
"Shut up. Don't think about it. I wish everybody just didn't think about it. Leave it to me. Don't think about like dislike, love, or hate. Just feel. It makes my job easier." He groaned in frustration.
"Fine. One more question."
"What?" he asked.
"Why do you glow? And please answer it."
He sighed. "I'm a vampire."
I actually laughed at that, because for some reasons humans made vampires glow and sparkle in the sun when they didn't really. That was one vampire who just so happened to love glitter and ran out and stole some from some human, got seen, and became a legend. "Tell me why."
"No. I'm suppose to be mysterious."
"No you're not. That's not a characteristic."
"I'll make it one."
"Please?" I begged.
"It's just a part of me, okay?"
I pouted and looked at him, the little glow being stronger around his head and shoulders, fading down along his body. It almost looked like it was coming from behind him. I smiled big, a thought coming into my mind. "Are they your wings?" I exclaimed.
He smirked. "Yes."
"How come we never get to see them? And how do they fit through your shirt?"
"You just don't. Only if I want you to but I don't want to be characterized as someone similar to an angel, and other reasons. Now quit pestering me."
"That's why you don't like me," I said.
"Jack, dear lord," he groaned.
"I'm kidding. Can't I make a joke?" I asked.
"No. You're not funny. "
I shrugged. "Whatever." Just then, the bell rang and we started to walk back inside. "I really like the dark," I said.
"I don't care," he said.
"I can't even make small talk?"
He just looked at me flatly.
"Fine. I'll just talk to myself." I tilted my head. "Why is Cupid such a stupid, mean, jerk? Maybe he's jealous or something. I wonder why he doesn't like me. I wonder who he likes - other than himself. I - oh!" I chirped as he pushed me over. "I hate you!"
"That's the spirit!" he called, walking away.
"I so completely dislike you. The intensity of my disliking towards you is so palpable!"
"Hate you, too!"
I sighed and stood up, watching him walk inside. I barely smiled, mentally smacking myself. I didn't want to think about it - because if I did, I'd realize I really liked Cupid.