Disclaimer: I do not own any of the wonderful characters of The Famous Jett Jackson.

Note from author: Feedback would be great. :o)


It had been a long day. He was late to school that morning because his dad, the sheriff, was answering some call about a storm warning. A storm not bad enough that he could miss school though, darn it. Normally he took his bike or walked because it was such a small town that everything was nearby. But the weather outside called for more reliable transportation. So he had to wait for his dad to drive.

Besides that, he did a half-decent job on his biology test. Instead of studying, he'd stayed up the past night memorizing a scene the crew would be shooting later that day. It had a lot of dialogue because of the bad weather the past few days. And now, at 3 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon, Jett was stuck in the school library working on a presentation for class. Surely, the day would end soon. At least I'm not alone.

"So how about pretending we're selling something? I think my marketing expertise would pull us through, don't ya think?" JB smiled broadly at his two friends. He blew and buffed his nails on his shirt.

Kayla rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Why would we be selling the idea that the Twenties was a cultural revolution? You can't buy a decade of history, JB."

"Well, I don't know Kay. The assignment's to explain how in the Twenties, everything turned from old-fashioned to materialistic. Maybe we could pretend we're doing an act to reel people into buying what was hip back then. Like we're selling flapper dresses or somethin. Not that it was the only thing going on but clothing did change a lot." Jett explained, sounding pretty thoughtful.

"Yeah! You see what I'm saying. We'll make some crappy costumes, maybe some inventions that came out around that time. Well no, that's gonna take too much time. But, hey, we could do the jitterbug or whatever dance they were doing back then. And I'll be the narrator slash salesperson! When do you guys wanna start?"

Kayla and Jett chuckled at their friend's usual enthusiasm. Good ol' funnyman JB. Who could not get a kick out of his energy?

"We can start Saturday at your place. Can we use any of the supplies from your store?"

"Sure, whatever you guys want. Paper, cloth, paint--actually, I think you got most of those, Kay. The store needs to restock--oh man, the store! I'm supposed to be watching it today `cause Pop's got an appointment. Dang I'm gonna get it. Later guys!" With that, JB grabbed his backpack and rushed out of the library.

Jett shook his head, feeling a small smile still coming to his face. Leave it to JB to forget about the five hundredth time that he has to be at the store.

Feeling her stare, he looked at Kay, who was also smiling at their friend's departure.

"You going too, Jett?"

"Nah. I don't have to be at the set for another couple hours. You?"

"I gotta finish up some math first. There's only a few problems left, but you don't have to wait."

"It's all right, Kay. Go ahead." He leaned back onto his chair, settling comfortably.

"Thanks. Now get some z's while you're at it." She unzipped her backpack and proceeded to take out her books.

She must've seen the bags under my eyes. Can't get by Kay. Not much of a surprise though. She's always into detail. Must be the artist in her. Would be rude if I didn't listen to her... Jett folded his arms and nodded to sleep, his chin resting on his chest.

He woke up a little later, stirred by some kind of noise.

Wha... where am I?

His head jolted up and he took in his surroundings drowsily. There sat Kayla across from him, bent forward and concentrating on a textbook. He remembered where he was and automatically longed to fall back asleep. Slowly, his eyelids closed and his chin fell to his chest again.

Darn the luck, he couldn't get back to sleep. And his neck started to hurt with him sitting in this position. Stubbornly he folded his arms across himself a little tighter and willed himself to sleep. It didn't work though, probably because he was thinking too hard.

He saw Kayla through his eyelashes. Her pencil was busily scratching over her notebook. Every so often, she pushed some buttons on a calculator and wrote down the answer. Jett noticed that every time she did, her hand would reach up to hold back her hair that was blocking the little calculator. He felt the urge to just tuck it behind her ear. He blinked at the thought.

Whoa there, don't get ahead of yourself buddy. And stop thinking that way.

But he couldn't help smiling when she finally did pull the lock of hair behind her ear. Immediately though, it fell down as she leaned closer over her work. He stifled a smirk as she frowned a little, her lips pursed, but she continued scribbling.

He started as someone behind him cleared their throat.

No, I WASN'T watching Kayla. For crying out loud she's just a friend! Panicked, he felt like a deer stopped in front of incoming headlights.

He got himself together and pretended to wake up at the sound. He was an actor anyway. "Huh? What?" He blinked his eyes in surprise and smacked his lips loudly and sleepily for effect. He only turned when the person behind him started talking. It was the librarian Mrs. Parcel.

"Kids, I'm leaving the desk for a little while. If you need anything, I'll be in the main office."

Kayla looked up and nodded her regard. "Thank you, Mrs. Parcel. I doubt it'll be necessary though `cause I'm just finishing up some homework." She politely waved goodbye as the elderly woman left. Glancing at Jett, she gestured with her hand, spreading out her fingers. "Five more minutes!" she promised.

"Don't worry. Take your time."

To tell the truth, he didn't mind much being with her and having nothing to do. In fact, it was pretty relaxing. It helped of course that they'd been friends for so long. He already forgot how badly the first part of his day went. Strange that all it took was spending a few quiet moments with her. He stiffened at the thought. You are such an emotional wuss.

"Haha. You are such a wuss, Jackson."

Kayla laughed as they gathered up their stuff to leave. He had slipped on his heavy, puffed-up jacket and was zipping it up to the very top. Now he was as wide as a mini sumo wrestler. Yet, he insisted on pushing down a black beanie on his head.

"Hey, can't you hear all that howling wind out there? Besides I can't help it if my skin's sensitive to the cold."

They pushed their chairs under the table. She wrapped a red scarf around her neck. "Sensitive? More like delusional. You could survive in the Himalayas with that getup."

"Getup shmetup. Come on, let's getty-up out of here." He took hold of one end of her scarf and playfully pulled her toward the exit.

"It's gitty-up, you high-fallootin' city slicker."

She swatted him in vain with the other end of the scarf. He laughed an evil laugh, unaffected by her attempt in defense. Actually he made sure he wasn't being rough with her and she went along with it, giggling like she always did when they play-fought. Dragging her, he had nearly reached the door when all the lights in the library flickered out.