"Jamie, do we have to go today? It's absolutely freezing," you whine, your cheeks already flushed from the cold.
"Aw, come on, [y/n]! It's not that bad out!" The brunette boy tugs on your hand again, pulling you after him, each of you carrying skates in your other hands. You sigh, and he laughs, knowing you aren't going to disappoint him. Soon enough you arrive at the frozen-over pond, and the both of you sit down on a snow-covered fallen log to put on your skates. Jamie has his on within a minute, while you fumble, still struggling to lace yours. Without saying a word, your excessively tall younger friend kneels down and laces them for you, then stands and takes your hand, pulling you up.
"Silly girl, that wasn't so hard!" He jokes, lightly punching your shoulder as he steps onto the ice.
"Don't disrespect your elders, punk," you growl back, feigning annoyance. You're actually pretty happy to be here with your best friend, despite the cold. The slightly eccentric fifteen-year old always manages to brighten your mood.
He scoffs, "Elder by what? A year? Don't kid yourself, [y/n]!" He smiles down at you before gliding off, leaving you to your own devices. Luckily, you actually aren't bad at ice-skating. You may not be able to do the coolest tricks, or stop very well, but those are trivial things. You're just lucky you don't fall down a lot! So you skate off after him, quickly catching up, until you're gliding along side-by-side. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Jamie pipes up, saying, "Jack Frost sure picked a good time for a snow day, huh? I was starting to go bonkers, being in Mr. Finchel's class for so long!" You know that he's just trying to get you to say something about his "hero". You don't want to have this same conversation again though. So naturally, you do what you can to avoid it.
"Mmm, Mr. Finchel is pretty boring. His class is easy though. You're lucky you don't have Ms. Everett!"
He sighs, "[y/n], I'm not crazy. I know that you think I am, but Jack Frost is real." His face is serious. You instantly feel guilty. It's not quite that you think he's crazy, but… Well, you aren't quite sure what to think. You moved here from New Jersey six years ago, when you were ten, and Jamie was nine. You remember that he always told the most fantastic stories about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, and his personal favorite, Jack Frost. He told tales about how he helped the Guardians to defeat the boogeyman, Pitch Black, just a few months before you arrived. While Jamie believed in them whole-heartedly, that's all that you thought they were. Stories. The truth is, though, that you want to believe. You want to believe so, so badly. Sometimes, on nights when you feel yourself getting down, too sad for your own good, you've tried talking to The Man on the Moon as Jamie told you to as kids, but all you've ever felt is foolish.
Returning from your trip down memory lane, you finally answer, "Jamie, I don't think you're crazy. Not one bit. I'm just… I just don't know what to think. What to believe." Suddenly, Jamie goes ahead of you, skating backwards, excitedly saying, "I can prove to you that he's real! You have to pay attention, though!"
I guess that that's my cue. Jamie told me that today was the day he would finally get his best friend, [y/n], to believe in the Guardians, or at least me. So I've been watching them, perched in the branches of a leafless tree. When Jamie was talking to her about me, I could tell that she wanted to believe. She just… didn't know how. But now, she'll have no choice but to believe in me, because I'm about to do something that I've only had to do once before. Show my powers to a human who wants to believe with all they're heart, but has too many doubts clouding their mind. People like that can't just ignore signs. What they do instead, is finally see.