Epilogue | Put A (Doughnut) Ring On It

*third person point of view*

Jackson leaned back and surveyed the area of the coffee shop. He had come to the same shop for years now and he knew this particular day was different because there were lots of people – chattery people. There was a family of eight, a couple trying to fight over the barista calling out names, a group of laughing old ladies and of course, the Bridgeshade students who decided that Starbucks was the best place to rehearse their presentations.

Next, Jackson looked at the things on his comfy round table. There lied his glasses, an open textbook (one chapter of which he had to discuss with his students later), the cup of coffee with his name written in uppercase (added to his first name was his last name) and of course, a blue velvet box.

For some odd reason he was repulsed by seeing that tiny velvet gold-lined box in front of him. Whenever his eyes were drawn to it, he averted his gaze. Jackson didn't know if it was the nerves talking or it was a sign that he shouldn't do it.

But I have to, god damn it, he chided himself distastefully.

Past college already, and past the peak of Divide and Conquer fame, Jackson thought that it might be the best time. He was ready to start a new stage of life with his sweets. And after all they've been through, why not do it?

He groaned inwardly. How would Ollie react if he prolonged the wait for the proposal?

He looked up when he saw someone occupy the seat in front of him. He recognized the Ray Bans and the radiating attitude immediately. "Please tell me you're kidding right now," begged he.

The new company wiggled his fingers. Behind those sneaky glasses, no doubt, Jackson knew he had a sparkle in his eye. It was the same sparkle present whenever Jackson and Ollie were caught in a moment and he intruded.

"I'm afraid I'm not, brother mine," Brendan said in his irritating accent. It was so fake that it was a lower quality than the accent his amateur students could muster. Jackson nodded and sighed. After all, his brother was still famous; he had to make precautions.

Brennan leaned forward and lowered his Ray Bans for me to see his eyes. "So you're really going to do it? You're going to propose to her?"

"I don't even know now. Should I?"

His brother looked at him funnily.

"Fine," Jackson rubbed his temple, "Let me rephrase that –"

"You know she'll say yes anytime," Brennan said pointedly. Jackson sighed once again. He can't help but admit silently that Brennan was right. With all those years together, people were already implying their marriage.

Jackson remembered the first time it was brought up publicly. It was a D and C interview in a late night talk show and he was watching with Lawrence and Jess. An audience member had the audacity to ask Oliver whether he would be proposing soon. Jackson had spat his drink all over the couch. Lawrence had laughed, while Jessica had been gasping.

Oliver had looked like it didn't faze her that much. She had replied that 'there was still time' and she 'trusted Jackson in his decisions' and 'the whole world simply had to be patient'. From that moment, an invisible weight was put on Jackson's shoulders. He felt like there were eyes everywhere, waiting for the grand 'Joliver' proposal.

The paparazzi were so serious that Jackson had to ask his father to get the ring for him.

"I just don't know if it's the right time," Jackson honestly told Brennan. "What if I mess up? What if she doesn't like the way I do it? But what if she says no?"

He desperately needed his brother's opinion. Among their ring of friendship, Lawrence and Montana were the best advisers. But he had to consult Brennan because first, Jackson had known him his whole life (they had a unique brotherly bond), second, he had known Ollie his whole life and third, he was the active captain of the 'Joliver' ship.

Brennan smiled – or was that a smirk Jackson saw? "Those are the jitters. I know it's a pretty hard part on the guy of the relationship. Even I –"

He stopped himself before he could finish. Brennan looked so hesitant, having an inner argument with himself.

"What?" Jackson inquired.

"Nothing," said Brennan, "Never mind that." His mask was put up again.

"So what? You think I should propose today? Right away?"

His brother shrugged, "It's your call. She's coming back from her conference. I think you should surprise her."

"Um," Jackson went into a series of murmurs as he stared at the ring box. Today would be so soon, but can she have time in the middle of her meetings and offers? A proposal over dinner at their apartment would be too plain – sweets would be disappointed. But then, proposing with salt, a pentagram and a live sacrifice didn't sound good either.

He had a thought of proposing Doctor Who style, but he didn't think Ollie appreciated the series as much as he did. He didn't know how to do it Sherlock style either. Montana suggested once that he should do it while singing and playing some instrument and that was an idea Jackson quickly abandoned. His singing voice would be one to ruin the whole proposal.

"Hey bro?" Brennan whispered to reel Jackson out of his insecurities and worries.

"Yeah?"

"You know what you're signing up for when you do this right? You know what's going to happen?"

"Of course." Jackson had already run everything through his mind. "We can't stay boyfriend-girlfriend forever. And I can't not marry her."

And I love her, he wanted to add.

"Then it's a brand new roller coaster to hop on, trust me," said Brennan, "After your sweet honeymoon, you're going to have to endure her through nine months of pregnancy. You're going to be used to waking up in the cries of a baby. You're going to experience the married life couple fight. It's not all peaches and cream, you know that right?"

Jackson answered hastily, "I'm ready for it."

It suddenly piqued his interest that Brennan described that kind of life all too well. He looked at his brother intently, "You sound like a married man."

And it disturbed him more to see a somber smile etching on his face. And his reply was, "I might as well be." Jackson sensed that the mystery behind that is thick, but Brennan wouldn't want him to press further.

"One more question," Brennan wove his fingers together, "Are you doing this with love? All the love you can give?"

"My unlimited supply will forever go to her," Jackson said without falter. Then, with a snicker he added, "Even when that love can overfill her ego."

"Then you have my blessing."

"Your blessing? I thought I had your automatic blessing?" Jackson wanted to laugh. "You're the number one fan of our relationship! I wasn't aware I had to have the blessing."

"Jackson, I know you're my brother and I will help you in whatever you need, but this is my baby sister you're going to marry. If you hurt her, I swear I will kill you." When it came to brotherly affection towards Oliver, it was no joke to Brennan. Jackson envied the two of them sometimes – even more before he and Ollie started dating.

"Okay," Jackson run his hand over his hair over and over again, "But I still don't know how to do this. How do I do it? Where do I do it? When? What should I take with me? I can't just give her an impromptu proposal."

Brennan fell silent for a while. Then he said, "You doubt yourself – and how this might turn out – because of your little fight, am I right?"

Something squeezed in Jackson's heart. He felt vulnerable.

Over two weeks ago, Oliver left with her group to tour around the country. They weren't concerts – those were messier – but humble conferences for interview and helping out in the music industry and such. The girls were also trying new things. Shai, for example, had her own dancing YouTube channel already. Ollie was permanently stuck with cooking and singing, where she was exemplary at.

But then when Ollie phoned him, he got upset over the deleted files on his laptop she had touched when she watched some movies before she left. She told him he was being overdramatic and that there were ways to get those files back. But Jackson had argued that those folders had a month's worth of class work and presentations in them.

They didn't speak again after that, and Jackson became lonely in their home. He only saw her in her live broadcasts and D and C's updates online. When he did his work, there was a restless side of him, reminding him of his sweets. He was unsure if they're on good enough terms for him to propose to her.

"I'm also stumped to be honest," Brennan told him, "If I had the chance to propose to the love of my life, I have my own way. But Ollie's a one-of-a-kind girl. You have to do lots to impress her."

Jackson laughed uneasily, "Now, you're just making it worse." It wasn't even wedding day yet, but he's already getting cold feet.

"Have you thought of bringing her back to the gas station?" Brennan teased.

"Of course not!" Jackson reddened. "She'll hate me forever. Or worse – she'll think again that I'm going to kill her. Have some thoughts that the box has a secret weapon in it."

"That would be hilarious!"

Jackson leaned back, for a moment considering that act a sign of defeat. He took his coffee and drank. "Maybe I won't be doing it today. I don't know. Pray for me that the perfect idea will come to me."

"Are you going to fetch her later from the airport?" Jackson asked.

"Idiot, I'm the only one absent there – so I could go to this brotherly date of yours. They're fetching D and C right now. There's J-Law, Paul and Mom waiting for them. I bet they've already landed at this moment," Brennan explained.

"Oh."

"You want to surprise her at your apartment? There's still time, you know. You might want to propose there."

He shot his brother a stern look, "I don't think she'll react nicely. Plus, I don't think she'll be heading home straight away. I've got a class, Brendan. Fifteen minutes from now, in fact. I can't miss it."

Brennan looked at him carefully, "Okay, then. As you wish. I have to welcome Ollie back, Brendan needs to run." He stood up abruptly and left the shop.

Jackson felt deflated once more. He felt like he said the wrong thing to Brennan, thus the light hostility. This proposal was driving him on the edge and soon, if he came to the point of final desperation, he might even ask help from his students. Not a little while longer, he left the shop with the ring box in his pocket feeling all too heavy.

♫ ♫ ♫

Brennan Dale was a lot of things to Jackson. Brennan was someone in disguise in front of the camera, he could be the most caring person at the times of seriousness and he could also be a huge complicated person. Everybody mentioned that Jackson was quite mysterious, but contrary to popular opinion (and Ollie's opinion), he found Brennan more of an enigma than he ever was.

Also, Brennan couldn't be trusted to keep a secret.

Jackson's phone beeped on his walk back to Bridgeshade. When he took it out, he wasn't certain whether to answer it. Finally, deciding that the caller might be helpful, he took the call. But before Jackson could even finish his 'hello', Lawrence was going wild on the other line.

"You're proposing?" Lawrence yelled into his ear.

"What the fu – How did you even know?" But Lawrence didn't need to answer the question as it all became clear to Jackson – Brennan had gotten a hold of his friend and showered him with the news.

"I can't believe it!" Jackson envisioned the man leaping all throughout wherever he was. "I can't believe it! You're proposing to her, oh my God! You're proposing!" Lawrence's tone and volume had been taken over by his flurry of excitement.

Jackson quietly sighed through his nose, "Could you tone it down? Aren't you with her right now? And if the girls ever hear of this, I swear. . ."

Lawrence released a giddy laugh, "Yeah, I'm with her over in Montana's condo, but no, I'm in the bathroom and they're outside celebrating. I'm honestly relieved, you know. I thought you'd still wait around for a year before doing it."

"Don't get too excited. I don't even know how I could possibly propose to her." With his book bag and coffee, Jackson dived into the thick crowd. "How'd you do it?"

"Aw me? No, it was just a simple proposal. I was more excited than nervous when the night came – I wanted to please Jess as much as I could. So it was a dinner date out in a clearing with lots of pretty lights. When I finally got one knee, she started crying."

Now, that added to the pressure Jackson was carrying. Would he even make sweets cry? Or will she only take the ring and go?

"You don't have to worry, Jackson," Lawrence reassured him, "I know Ollie. I know she loves you wholeheartedly. So far, she hasn't spoken about you when you arrived, but I can tell she's thinking about you every second."

"Thank you," Jackson breathed out.

He went back to his own pool of thoughts after that conversation with Lawrence. Lawrence and Brennan were the closest guy friends he had, and whenever Jackson was around them both, it was a babysitting mood. Together, Lawrence and Brennan were devious – Ollie had warned everyone about that.

But his mind kept coming back to Brennan, who was the key person in his and Ollie's relationship. Jackson knew that if it wasn't Grant Reynolds who walked his sweets down the aisle, it would certainly be Brennan Dale. Jackson even remembered that Brennan had been the root of his worries before.

It was because it was always Brennan. It was that way since the beginning. It was Brennan who first knew her. It was Brennan who was with her when they first met. It was Brennan who Jackson found to be always laughing with Ollie. It was Brennan who stayed with her during the break up. And it was Brennan who had the capacity to always sing duets with her, so he felt so in the shadows. That's why it struck him hard when Oliver had brought up the insecurity during one of their first fights.

He felt this strange connection when Ollie mentioned being overshadowed by her sister. And it had been his greatest fear that one day he'll lose her to his brother. He had been quick to recoil when she had hurt him and his family.

The thing that truly slapped him into realization was when he heard Oliver sing at D and C's first gig. He recalled whispering that the song Oliver sung was for him. To his surprise, Brennan had whacked his head and stared into his eyes saying, "If you say that that song's for you, it's an insult to her because you're thinking she'd spend her time and voice for someone like you."

Jackson had fought against himself every time he visited the hospital to see her. He had known then, that he was the person she'd need the most so he had to be strong. He had realized then, too, that it didn't matter who overshadowed him or if he'd only be seen as "Walter Dale's son" or "Brennan's brother".

It didn't matter as long as he had Oliver with him.

Jackson walked on, and into the beautiful architecture of Bridgeshade. The school was nothing but a blessing to him – he understood well enough why Ollie had praised it when he stepped foot inside.

There were a few students littering the vast hallway and some greeted him. With just a few more minutes before his class started, Jackson made a mad dash towards the Staff Room. There in his cubicle he found his laptop, and few presentation materials for his lecture.

Just as he was meticulously tidying up his desk in a hurry, Taylor suddenly appeared peering into his cubicle. Taylor – Professor Fuller – was a co-teacher of his, also fawned over by the female student body especially since Taylor wasn't seeing anyone. It had come as a surprise for Jackson to see him teaching there; Taylor was none other than Acewell's former headmistress' son.

"Jack, you've got to check the auditorium." As Jackson hauled his things into his arms, listening to Taylor, he couldn't help but sense amusement in his tone. "There's a celebrity being interviewed. Can't remember the name, but she's one of the girls over at Divide and Conquer."

Jackson almost dropped everything he held. He snapped his gaze towards Taylor, "What?"

"Oh yes, and funny, it's the cooking students who are occupying the auditorium right now."

His heart sped up. Now, that was really his Ollie. He glanced back at Taylor Fuller, who had a smirk on and a twinkle in his eye. He obviously knew what Jackson's reaction would be.

Taylor clicked his tongue, "You sure you don't want to check it out?"

There was no mental deliberation needed. While Taylor doubled over in laughter, Jackson practically threw his laptop and bag on the desk and ran out of the room. He didn't care who saw him at the glittering halls. He didn't care if his shoes made squeaking sounds against the tiles. All he knew was that something was overflowing in his veins.

He had to see her.

He halted suddenly in front of the auditorium door. With just a peek through the circular glass, he could see her on the stage. Ever so soundlessly, Jackson pushed one door open. They wouldn't notice him anyway; they'd be too engrossed in his Ollie.

Jackson never took his eyes off her as he went down each step and took a seat on the backmost row, where he would blend in. Only half the auditorium was occupied anyway – it was only the population of the culinary classes.

He watched her every move. There was a temporary kitchen counter situated in front of her, where she could cook in front of them. He took in the perfect curl of her rich blonde hair, those hands fiddling with themselves and the way her look swept across the audience, as if wanting to give everyone equal attention. He watched as the face he'd memorized gracefully delivered her words, with that snarky mouth of hers.

Something suffocated his heart. But it wasn't pain.

It was only later on that Jackson finished staring at Ollie and finally focused on what she was saying. It seemed like she had everyone's attention drawn to her.

"Miss Haven! That's an improper way to speak to our guest!" Just then, Ms. Tabitha, an administrator for special events in the university, scolded one student. But Oliver intruded.

"No, it's okay! I'd like some questions," Ollie bit her lip, "I can't just cook here silently while you just sit there. It's nice to have a chatter atmosphere when you're cooking. I won't be distracted, I promise."

"And to answer your question," she turned to the girl who had been reprimanded, "Divide and Conquer is relatively less busy right now, but we won't fade away. Violet told us that we'd be following the same routine as every artist. That's to work on an album, then go on a break, then appear again after some months." As she said this, Ollie put into view the different ingredients for the dish she'll be making.

"So what's in it for the future in D and C?"

"I am not sure honestly," Oliver blew out a breath, "But eventually, we have to stop. The girls and I have our lives laid out for us. I'm sure they want to do something more than Hollywood stuff."

After the reply, chain after chain of questions followed. Ms. Tabitha looked like she was in a middle of a disaster. However, Ollie managed to calm them down.

"I know I promised to answer your questions," she laughed, "But I should also start cooking or else I'll miss a lovely celebration for tonight."

It must be a welcome-home celebration, Jackson thought as overwhelming feelings seized his chest. If he had felt these things before, he didn't remember. He only knew he had the strange desire to stand up and shout to her, to run across that grand aisle and wrap her in the tightest hug, to kiss her with pouring love and not care about the people watching. But Jackson stay put in his seat.

"This mac and cheese isn't anything special – it isn't gourmet – but it's sort of my mother's recipe. And I'm sure you all have your fancy classes about food I couldn't even pronounce," Oliver said, earning a laugh from the audience, "But I want to tell you this: The simpler things taste better, especially when they're made with care. I have to tell you, that the spaghetti my friend Lawrence makes as a college student can never be outshined by those in a five-star restaurant."

Jackson gazed, awestruck, as she effortlessly began cooking while speaking. It all came so natural to her. He had watched her cook so many times and he knew no one could ever be on par with the way his Ollie did it.

"When food is made, it is food. It doesn't matter what's in it. One time Jackson and I ate cheap food off Styrofoam boxes just outside the Dale Studios' anniversary party. Another time, we ate tiramisu on cardboard boxes in his room."

Everyone soaked in every detail. Jackson, on the other hand, forced out a smile. Even when they were apart, even when there was dead silence between them, she thought of him.

"Miss Oliver Ridge," a ginger boy raised his hand suddenly, "Do you know that Professor Dale – Sir Jackson – is in his class right now? Wouldn't it be romantic to surprise him?"

"Okay, first promise me that there will be no recording devices of any kind during this. I don't want the media misinterpreting anything again, so please," she looked at them sternly and that surely did the trick. Oliver, who knew how real-life Rita Skeeters functioned, had a knack for scaring them.

If something's going to ruin my life again, Jackson heard Ollie's words in his mind, it sure as hell will not be them.

"Jackson doesn't know I'm here," Ollie began, "And I'm not too intent on telling him. I accepted the offer to teach in front of all of you because of my father, not him. I wasn't too excited to travel all the way here, to be honest. Even if I adored Bridgeshade with all my life."

Jackson guessed that the students knew it was a sensitive topic to ask about him so the room was empty of raised hands for a moment. He ducked his head to be careful as Ollie once again swept her gaze in the interior of the auditorium.

To have something else accompany the sound of Oliver chopping up meat, one hand was raised. "Miss, can you tell us how you feel about Bridgeshade?"

Oliver's face lit up, and Jackson sucked in a breath. She became more beautiful when she raised her head and the lights shone on her face.

"It's my second time visiting," she said breathlessly, "And I promised myself a while ago I would tour the whole campus. And I won't go home until I've seen everything worth seeing."

"When was your first time?" Another question piped up.

"It was a while back, and now that I'm here again, I can see the changes. You see, it was either D and C or Bridgeshade. So I've made my choice but I can't forget about the nights when I wondered if I made the right decision. It's not just the whole appearance that attracts me. It's how Bridgeshade works that reeled me in. I'm willing to bet that Bridgeshade is the best school, alongside Clevemore."

There were murmurs and nods of agreement.

Bridgeshade, too, had changed Jackson's life. He might not have experienced going to Clevemore, but in Bridgeshade, he could see how Ollie described the perfect education system. Acewell was tough and he was grateful for it, but Bridgeshade is something he was attached to.

"So Jackson knew how much I love this place. During his second week in the university as a student, he toured me around. In its own way, that tour was a date. We even had dinner in the cafeteria." With Ollie, Jackson smiled at the memory.

Sighs of awe and amazement escaped from the girl students.

Then suddenly, somebody caved in to ask the question: "Miss what happened between you and Sir Jackson?"

Jackson leaned forward. He tried to detect any sign of discomfort on Oliver. But she only kept on cooking and mixing.

"Why do you call him Sir Jackson?" Ollie asked, then quickly added to clear any ambiguity, "I mean, why not Professor Dale?"

"Well, he doesn't exactly like the sound of Professor Dale," One student answered.

Jackson never took a liking to the title "Mr. Dale". It related too much to his family. Not that it irked him so much, it's just that he reserved "Mr. Dale or even Professor Dale" as something to refer to his father. Or it could even be for Brennan.

Ollie chuckled, coming into realization, "Oh, I understand now. That's very 'Jackson' of him."

"Anyway," she continued, "As to what happened between us, it's just a small bump in the road. I believe that no matter what we fight about we could always come to a compromise. That's how couples are . . . I think. He's mad at me right now. I accidentally deleted some class files in his computer before I left. Not really a good idea to see him right now."

Jackson wanted to scream the opposite. Every cell in his body wracked to tell her that he missed her so much and he wanted to . . .

She spoke, hooking his attention again. "Aw now, don't make the tension. Not every pairing is perfect. I'm sure that when I get home, I get to surprise him with a nice dinner and we'll make up in the bedroom." She paused, "If you know what I mean."

Jackson blushed. The room erupted into cheers and whistles. Oliver grinned.

He noticed that finally, she finished the raw mixture. She bent and popped the mac and cheese to be cooked in the oven. "So," she rubbed her hands and leaned on the counter, "I think we can make some more conversation while we wait. But first I can run through the process again . . ."

Jackson's mind fuzzed all over again when she narrated through the mac and cheese journey, with her own quirky twist. She even called on a few students to complete her sentences.

Once she finished, she stood, seemingly bored, "So what do we now?"

One guy from the back part, close to where he was sitting, hollered out, "Sing for us!"

Ollie laughed in between her words, "Oh God, I promised myself I'll cook, not sing! Honestly, you guys, I can't sing so spontaneously."

"Why not?" asked a handful of the audience.

"Ah," Jackson imagined a sparkle twinkling in her clever eye, "Whenever Jackson and I kiss, we agree that we have to build up a moment before we do. It's sort of like foreplay before sex – "

His eyes bugged at the analogy and Ollie's openness about their romantic life. The audience nodded along.

"– so it's the same thing for singing. I do not sound right when I try to start it, kind of like . . ." then she made a long screeching sound (similar to her fangirling sounds) which made the room fill with joyous laughter.

"So when I sing in the kitchen while cooking, it comes out of a bored moment. And naturally, I start with the chorus. Hum it first, and then build up into an all out breathtaking number."

"You must understand now that I can't sing for you."

A series of groans and egging came from the students. A few even insisted that they could play instrumentals for her. But Ollie declined them all. She gave them a suggestion.

"You can ask me more questions and I promise to answer them wholeheartedly. Fair trade, don't you think?"

The first question popped instantaneously: "What was the first song you sung?"

Oliver replied flawlessly, having exposed to lots of interviews with D and C. "'We Will Rock You' by Queen, according to my mom" she said, "It was in our old kitchen, and my four year old self began singing along with the radio so suddenly. But it wasn't anything big. Remember I sounded like a retarded puppy who inhaled helium."

Another question: "Have you sung any songs with Brennan before D and C?"

"Oh yeah, lots," she brightened. Jackson's mind trailed back to his brother's threats and advice in the coffee shop. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I owe him my whole career, actually. We sang a lot in Reynold Records and in the Dale house. And Jackson would arrive after we finished and get all jealous. It's so cute, really. So cute. But yeah, Brennan's the reason I'm here. If he hadn't motivated me, I guess I'll still be pursuing to be a singing cupcake baker."

More questions emerged from the pumped up audience. There were some which were relatively normal:

"What was it like in Clevemore High?" (By the way Ollie always told him about Clevemore, Jackson had a part of him attached to the school, too, although he hasn't studied there).

"Number one musical artist inspiration?" (Jackson knew for a fact that it wasn't Brennan. He correctly guessed that Ollie would say "Fall Out Boy" or "Sia").

"Favorite college-level food to eat?" (A random meat mix platter, Jackson knew).

But there were also questions that made Jackson and Oliver's eyes bug out:

"Do you and Sir Jackson ever include food during sexy time?" (Jackson knew their intimate secrets of course, and he had to put a hand over his forehead when Ollie said that once they tried but failed miserably).

"Did you ever have roleplay fetishes?" (By that time, Jackson was willing to strangle any student who tried to ask the same kind of questions, but he wanted to strangle Ollie more for saying that he probably has some in mind).

"Are you still a virgin?" (Now that was way out of the line. Jackson debated with himself if he would stand up or not. But he held himself back. But Ollie only smiled and nodded her head.)

After that round of unsettling questions, there was this question that hit Jackson hard. And it seemed to affect Ollie a lot, too.

"Do you think Sir Jackson will ever propose to you?"

His hands shook a bit. He felt the ring box in his pocket, and it felt like it was under the influence of a much higher acceleration of gravity. He held his breath, waiting for Oliver's reply.

But Ollie was just as speechless. The audience looked like it was going to suck in every word of hers. She opened her mouth and closed it and it repeated like a cycle.

Ping!

There was finally something to disrupt the overwhelming silence. It was the oven. Ollie scrambled to get the baked mac and cheese out of the oven and present it to the students proudly. The smell wafted throughout the entire room. Her cooking was, as always, magnificent.

"Look," Ollie sighed, taking off her mitts, "I can't leave that question hanging – oh hello there . . . whoa, those are a lot of people."

As agile as he can, Jackson crouched in front of his seat as all heads turned towards the door. Through the glass, he could see other non-culinary students peeking. It seemed like they had noticed him beforehand, as they were rabidly pointing towards his position.

But Jackson glared at them and run a finger across his throat, trying to let them get the message, especially towards one of his students, Annie. They only stopped when Ollie spoke.

"To answer the question," she shifted, "I have to say that I don't know. I don't know if he's planning anything and if he's tried to do it, I haven't noticed. When we're with other people, they keep on hinting on it. I know they're sending Jackson indirect messages. And I respect if he wants to wait, even the whole world is trying to convince him."

"Actually, understand if he wants to wait. Marriage isn't a joke – especially the preparations. I'm even scared of it, I admit. I'll get to have a family with him, we're going to be stuck together, and I'll probably have a rebellious son or daughter. And I'll be growing old! It's too much."

"But that doesn't mean I completely don't want to. I swear if that bastard jackass won't propose at all, I might as well do it myself," she said in a huff.

Jackson stared at her, feeling a slice of guilt intruding his chest. He realized that his and her feelings towards that next step in life aren't so different. She's scared. He's scared. But one of them has to be brave.

"But anyway," Oliver put on a lighter mood, "I have baked mac and cheese and also Bittersweet Moments desserts prepared for all of you at your cafeteria. This one I made should be for the teachers and staff. Don't worry; I'll make a quick trip to the staff room then I'll join everyone in a bit."

The next action almost sent him stumbling. Jackson still crouched but he had to duck his head deeper when the whole horde of students came bolting out the door. He groaned inwardly, thinking that those outside would tell the whole school that he was spying and whatever happened in this cooking class will travel the campus by the end of the day, recorder or no recorder.

He only looked up when the auditorium was empty – save for Ollie and other executives. He sat back within the shadows and stared at his Ollie, cleaning up the makeshift counter and doing final touches to the baked mac. It clearly his chance to come up to her, but he hesitated.

His heart was still heavy and his leg was jumping up and down out of nerves. He had the chance to pop out of his hiding place and go down to his knees and present the ring . . . but it wasn't the right time, he thought. Plus, he didn't know how she would react if she knew he heard all of those things she said.

So, while Oliver talked to Miss Haven, Jackson quietly slipped out of the door.

♫ ♫ ♫

As soon as he was a hundred percent sure that the coast was clear, Jackson moved as casual as he can. But his inner thoughts were not casual. Inside his head, there was nothing else but the flooding emotions – chemicals – pertaining to his proposal for Ollie. Deep inside him, he knew had to do it right away. But a map was still missing; he was more lost than ever.

He trudged through the quiet hallway. It almost seemed that every student in Bridgeshade went to the cafeteria, leaving every other corner deserted.

But then Jackson realized . . .

He groaned softly. He still had a class, of course. And he was forty minutes late. He even doubted that the classroom was full.

He trudged quietly through the halls, going from his relationship to the day's supposed lesson. He even made up his mind that he could remember little of the things he reviewed a while ago. After a quick trip to the staff room, he headed to his classroom just in case some people were present.

But to his surprise, a generous number of his students were all ready in their seats, chatting or using their phones. He did a quick survey of the room – it was like every other classroom with rows of leather chairs perched on leveled steps, air conditioning and a whiteboard. The features unique however, were special speakers situated in various locations throughout the room, a mixing console (with order recording paraphernalia) and an isolation room.

Before Jackson could even enter his room, one of his students shot up to her feet and went up and down, "I knew it! I knew you were going there!" Glee shone on her face.

That caught the immediate attention of the rest of the class. They stared at him, waiting for a reply.

"Good afternoon to you, too," he said emotionlessly. He entered the room and began setting up his things. "Annie, I thought you were out in the cafeteria with the fellow admirers."

The hyped girl was struck with embarrassment and redness that got her back down on the seat.

"Now get your books –" Jackson started as the room calmed again but to his guess he was interrupted.

"Oh come on, we only have ten minutes more. Why not tell us your encounters at the auditorium?" This time, it wasn't Annie, but the girl sitting next to her, Pixie.

"Who says we can't cover a part of the topic in just ten minutes?" Jackson met a few eyes.

The class erupted into groans and complaints. Normally, Jackson would not give in, keeping up his reputation as one of Bridgeshade's strictest teachers. But he knew he needed the break as much as his students. He ran over his mental schedule and decided that it was fine to miss one session even if it meant cramming two lessons for the next.

Childish cheers went around when he announced his decision. Jackson sat down on his chair and rubbed his head. He knew what came next – his students demanded for the story. They always did, especially whenever there came news about Divide and Conquer.

"What are you doing there?" Pixie practically screamed at him, "Tells us! Was it true that you fought? Did you know she was going to be here – and oh my God! Do you even plan on proposing to her?"

Great, Jackson thought. He took a quick peek at the door to check if anybody was listening. Then his eyes focused back on his students. Before, he was mulling over his own problem, but now his whole class was thrown into the mix. Based on how they were looking at him pleadingly, he knew Pixie already told them the details.

"How did you know about all that?" Jackson stared accusingly at her, "You were inside the auditorium?"

She looked offended, "Of course I was! Why wouldn't I be?"

Pixie, to summarize, was Bridgeshade's biggest Divide and Conquer fan. But with the staff room rumors, Jackson knew that she was neck and neck up against this boy in Theater Arts in being the best fanatic. Nevertheless, Pixie was astounding in knowing D and C's whereabouts and action. He had even suspected before that she only got into his class because she knew he was a direct source for those kinds of things.

"Fine, okay," he set his palms on the tabletop, "You want to know? Yes we had a fight and she erased our files – "

"But why?" Matilda cut in. Matilda was a girl who had been aspiring to become a fashion designer but was forced into a musical course by her parents. "You know we should be thanking her. She erased the lessons!" Along with those words, came cheers of agreement.

"Hmph," said Jackson under his breath. No matter how many tales of how Ollie can also be unsuccessful he told them, they still believed that she was some kind of goddess. They could any reason to praise her.

" – I didn't know she was coming. It was Professor Taylor who told me then I ran to the auditorium – " This earned smug snickers and hoots from the group of boys sitting at the back part.

" – and lastly, well, I have to say that," Jackson lowered his voice, "Yes, I do have a plan to propose."

That was when Pixie literally leapt onto her chair and squealed crazily. She waved her arms excitedly and gasped for breath. It ceased when she began fanning herself as her friend Lysander tugged her down.

"But why haven't you?" Annie piped in once again, propping a cheek on her fist.

Jackson frustratingly ran a hand through his hair, "Don't you know how hard it is to do that? I can't just get on one knee and say the words! I have to surprise her and I have a next to nothing clue about how to do it."

He spotted one boy nod his head understandingly. Robbie was the only one who had among the class who had his girlfriend with him in the same class.

His words didn't seem to stop the determined Pixie and the empathetic Annie. "Why don't we help you?" offered Annie.

"He – help me?" Jackson couldn't believe what he had just heard.

As a habit of precaution he glanced out the door once again. Unusually, it was quiet out in the hall – and pretty deserted as well. But then Jackson finally understood that some teachers gave the sessions free to their students, as Bridgeshade had a guest coming over. He recalled that Royce Blakely visited once, and the classes were spontaneously suspended.

His eyes widened more when he watched Annie stand up and address the whole class, "We'll all give him a hand right? Those of you who don't want to, you can go out of this room right now." When no one made the move to leave, she turned back to him, "See? You don't have to worry. I'm pretty sure we don't have any classes after this. We have the time."

Jackson took little time to think over it. "If that's what you want, then you can help me," then his tone turned serious, "But there's one condition: No one announces, tweets or writes about this online. If this reaches Montana Reynolds or Shai Korvencia, I am dead meat and the proposal is a failure."

It surprised him even more when Annie looked each one dead in the eye, "You heard that assheads? If somebody gives word, you're the root of the collapse of the Joliver ship."

Jackson's first thought was that everyone would be pushed to follow the order. Annie was gentle girl, and when she was all out stern like that, she meant business. His second thought was that it sounded weird to use "Joliver" in everyday language.

Stupidly, after that, he blindly followed Annie's plans. He butt in once to ask why they needed to prepare at that moment. Annie and Pixie stared at him, as if he's lost his head. It was Lysander who had the courage to tell him:

"Why wait for another day? You have to propose to her right now – in the parking lot."

Jackson was extremely uncertain that it would be the best venue. But Annie assured him that the people were decorative; they'd tidy the place up to be special enough for this special proposal.

In no time, after procuring the right materials inconspicuously, the class was divided into groups. Some were making colored flags, a handful teamed up to make three grand banners, others blew up balloons and others patrolled the area in case there were some people breaking the one rule.

The trio sat in front of Jackson on his table. He honestly felt useless, having nothing to contribute. But Pixie advised him that he better mentally and emotionally prepare himself – they wouldn't want him to be fretting in the middle of the proposal.

So wordlessly, Jackson sat and stared at his trio. Annie was jotting down plans on a scratch paper. Pixie was rattling off to the other two about Divide and Conquer's latest assumed plans. Lysander was blowing up balloons and tying them.

This was Jackson's golden trio. They were surely a blessing to him starting from day one. Annie was the goodie girl who sought to impress teachers. She reminded Jackson of his former self, except that Annie was more sociable. Whenever she took the decision to take off some class load off his shoulders, he couldn't be any more grateful.

Pixie – yes, it was her real name – was quite the talkback when he first met the class. He learned soon that she and Annie were roommates and she had a considerable amount of knowledge about D and C, that Jackson always that she never bothered to study the lessons – all she studied about was the musical group.

Lysander wrapped up the trio since Jackson moved him to the seat next to Annie and Pixie. He was a quiet one, but he could be blunt whenever he wanted to. He was the rational one, the peacemaker. Also, Jackson knew that Annie secretly held a grudge on him as Lysander was the top student in the class.

" . . . so, we'll gather 'round every soul in Bridgeshade and pass a few of the flags. We'll take our posts then boom! Once she says yes, we'll be out like a super surprise." Jackson caught the last few sentences Annie was saying to him.

He leaned back, staring into nothing, "Are you really sure this will work? What if things don't go the way planned?"

Annie waved it off, "You'll be fine. It's just the nerves – every boy is nervous. If you weren't I'd be honestly worried."

"But what if – "

"What if, what if," Annie rattled, looking at him, then teased, "What? Would you want a script to go by?"

Jackson rubbed his face for the umpteenth time, "Write one just in case." The girl frowned but began writing anyways. Jackson focused on Pixie this time.

"Pix," he scolded, "When I said that rule, you should know it applies for you, too." He watched Pixie grunt and put down the phone.

"But I just want to rub into Gunter's face! Imagine when I tell him that I am first to know about the proposal and I am helping you plan it. Just imagine!"

"Pixie . . ."

"You owe us!" she threw her arms up, "You promise, okay? And you could easily pay me if you let me become a bridesmaid at your wedding."

"You're joking."

She smiled deviously, "We better receive invitations."

Just then, Lysander cleared his throat. He finished up tying an orange balloon and threw it behind him. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but," said he, "I was wondering . . . has she ever hinted or told you about anything she'd prefer in a proposal?"

That question made Annie look up and ask Jackson with her eyes.

"That reminds me! You've got the ring, haven't you?" Pixie asked him.

"Yeah . . . I've got it here," Jackson bravely reached into his pocket and played with the box, tossing it in his sweaty fingers, "And you're not going to get a sneak peek at it, Pix. I don't give my students that kind of treatment."

"But!"

"Um, sir?" Lysander interrupted again. Jackson remembered his question.

"Well . . . she hasn't told me anything," he said to them, "But I've only got a single clue. In one of our anniversary parties, Lawrence gave this tape to Ollie. I still don't know what's inside it, but I know that whenever Ollie watches it, she ends up both crying and laughing. When I ask her about it, she brushes it off, hugs me and tells me she loves me . . . "

" . . . but I got a tape, too. It's a recording, more like. It was Montana who gave it to me and there was a single note attached to it: You're Welcome, it said. I listened to it carefully. It was a recording of one of D and C's slumber parties in their world tour. I guessed the girls were messing around with alcohol and they asked Ollie what she wanted in a proposal. Montana got the whole recorded . . . "

After he told them, he assured that he got Ollie's requirements ready. At the end of it, Annie seemed more determined than ever. "Let's add that to the script then," she smirked.

♫ ♫ ♫

"Jackson?"

He opened his drowsy eyes and in the dark, he felt Oliver holding his hand while she sat up, watching him. His lips twitched in a smile as he pulled her down. Her head was then on his chest and he his arms had a firm lock around her waist.

"You can't sleep?" he yawned, "Nightmares?"

"No," she burrowed deeper into his embrace, "I think we might've chosen the wrong apartment."

"Why is that?"

"This one is occupied – by something. I heard something in the walls – and screeching. I'm not entirely sure, though. I think it's that last Supernatural episode taking a toll on me. But I swear, I heard things, Jackson."

It wasn't often that she woke him up in the middle of the night. If anything, she refused to disturb his sleep even if it meant muffling her own screams out of her nightmares. But he knew every now and then, when slight insomnia took over, she felt the need to wake him up.

"Just close your eyes, sweets."

"But I can't sleep – "

"Yes, I know that," he cut off, "But trust me. Close your eyes. It's okay if you don't feel sleepy. Just listen to my voice . . . . Are you listening?"

"If this is one of your stupid ass therapeutic games, stop it – "

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. The soft moonlight filtered inside through the clear windows. He listened to Ollie's delicate breaths. He caressed her fingers. She felt so good in his arms . . .

"Cream pie, Jackson, you're not sleeping on me, are you?"

"No, I was just thinking," said he defensively.

"Tell me," she urged on, "Come on, before the sounds come back."

"I want to tell you that I've never expected this," Jackson began. "All of this – "

"What do you mean?"

"Don't interrupt me."

"But you keep interrupting me."

"Sweets . . ." When she objected no more, Jackson continued, "If you told me two years ago that I'd get to spend my night and my days with this girl who seem no fit for me, I would've laughed so hard. Honestly, sweets, with the life I was living behind Acewell's bars and in my brother's shadow, I already decided that I'm going to live alone with no sprinkle of love life whatsoever."

"Yeah, pretty sure if not for me, you'd have no sprinkle of love life whatsoever," she drawled.

But then Ollie squealed when he pinched her waist. "Ow!"

"Don't ruin it; this is my moment," he told her, "I had little value of myself before, I admit. I never thought I was worth it – worth anything. But you're there and it was only me who messed up everything – "

"No, it was my fault initially."

"Oliver," he began softly, "Thank you being in my life. For existing. Don't ever regret accepting your father's offer. If you hadn't, it wouldn't have led you to me."

"No, I think we still would have met even if I hadn't. We would've met in . . . better circumstances."

"And you have to understand that now, I'm right here for you. I owe my everything to you. So you know that even if it's our neighbor's cat messing around next door, I'll still be here for you."

It was Oliver's turn to pinch him, "God, I knew it. It's one of your games. You're messing with me . . . you get all emotional and then rude the next second."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not going to let you the next night, I swear it. And I believe you owe me a pint of ice cream. And lots of meals. Your promised, remember?" she said.

Jackson grumbled, "I'll make breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow."

"That's my boy," Ollie sniggered, "I think I'm getting sleepy. Good night. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He felt her tense up, "That's the second time."

"Yes?"

"The second time you said that to me."

He briefly kissed her lips. "You count?"

"So what if I do? I count everything. Then number of times you got a hard-on in bed, the number of times I got you to – "

"Oliver, shut up and sleep."

♫ ♫ ♫

Jackson opened then closed his eyes again and again as he slipped outside the classroom. It was more alive now than it had been part of an hour before. Annie was striving to perfect the script, with the help of Pixie's ridiculous add-ons, and he instructed Lysander to look after the jobs of the students. Really, he was ultimately grateful for the effort, but if he sent everything flying, it would all be wasted.

He walked along the length of the hall, hoping he would get a bit of a break inside the teachers' lounge and perhaps salvage just a bit of Oliver-made mac and cheese. With the scent and taste of the dish dancing invisibly in him, he didn't realize he almost bumped into someone.

And it was Oliver.

Lots of things happened simultaneously. His jaw dropped, suddenly weighed down to the floor, as did the feel of the ring box in his pocket. He almost stumbled and brought her down with him, but he held his balance, pursing together his dry lips.

The first words came from him, not her.

"You're staring at my crotch."

Oliver shook her head for a while, and then stared into his eyes. "Just testing out something," she mumbled in a daze, drifting her focus back to his groin. Jackson reddened, but felt relieved. There was no absolute awkwardness between them – Ollie was the same Ollie, the Ollie who wasn't mad at him anymore.

Not resisting the urge to touch her, Jackson grabbed her shoulders lightly. "Testing out what?"

She shrugged, "Never mind that. A bite?"

A bite of what? Jackson wondered at first. But then, he noticed for the first time that she was carrying a tray of left over mac and cheese. It was still warm, he smelled. And he didn't need to answer the question as Ollie picked up fork and fed him a generous piece of the dish. A smile tugged at his lips – he realized how his recent takeout and delivery food always fell miles behind his sweets' cooking.

"Are you done with your little culinary visit?"Jackson asked after chewing.

"So you knew?"

For a millisecond, Jackson swept his gaze over the halls. It wouldn't be a nice situation if someone – anyone – caught them there. But he partly trusted his trio to round up everyone in the parking lot. Convinced that no one would be passing their way anytime, Jackson fidgeted with his hands and said, "This is Bridgeshade – the gossip palace."

" . . . So you don't have anything more to do?" asked he. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to prolong the wait for the proposal or to get it done with as soon as possible.

She shrugged, "I was just fetching this tray from the teachers' lounge. Before that, I was in the cafeteria. You weren't anywhere when I looked for you."

She was looking for him?

"You? No more classes?" Oliver asked in turn. For Jackson, he almost couldn't breathe at the tension that she could be so calm despite their previous fight. That was his sweets: always pretending it didn't happen between them. And he couldn't fathom how she remained composed as they were stuck in the awkward position. His hands were still on her shoulders and she was holding the tray with both hands.

Abruptly, he dropped his arms.

"No, I just finished actually." He forced out a smile. Really, I never even got to have one because of you, he thought.

The lack of words prevailed suddenly between them. But Jackson wanted to say something. He wanted to ask how she was, whether she was going home straight away, how was the trip, did she behave when she was away, did she have any souvenirs for him and so much more. However all he could do was drop his jaw in front of her.

Oh God, I'm going to propose and this is how I act in front of her. . .

When the silence was too overbearing, Ollie let out a carefree laugh and shoved another forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth. It took Jackson by surprise – nearly choked him even – but he quietly chewed. "You okay?" Ollie said, still in a fit of laughter.

"So – sorry." He was so stupid. "Do – do you want to go home – I mean – uh – ride with me home? I've nothing left to do and I know you're pretty tired."

"Yeah, that sounds good, thank you. Truth be told, I was really homesick?"

"Really?"

"Mainly because of you." Ollie took the step to kiss him on the cheek. In Jackson's mind, he was already running over a thousand and one effects if he did or did not propose.

"Listen, I still have some things to pick up from the teachers' lounge, okay? You can wait in the parking lot just ahead of here and go by my car. You'll find it easily, don't worry."

Ollie nodded, "The ugliest car in the parking lot, got it."

"Ollie."

She laughed, and he couldn't help but laugh alongside her, remembering the time when they both picked out the car together. Since then, she frequently credited him of picking the grossest car, when in fact, in his opinion, it was his best choice.

"Wait for me," he whispered, kissing the side of her head. They went on their opposite ways.

But she was not even a few feet away when Ollie complained, "What if something mauls me out there? It's getting dark."

"Then don't blink," he replied coolly, smirking.

"Jackass! I don't want you scaring me again – you already scarred me with that Weeping Angel screensaver of yours!"

He chuckled while walking. His Ollie was back.

Then, he realized, he just had to make it the best proposal ever to match her standards. Although everyone has voiced out their opinions, he knew he would be the final judge of it all – he was the one to do the main act after all. Jackson's hands transitioned to clammy as he made his way towards the lounge. His bag as well as the ring box weighed him down terribly.

Taylor Fuller was slyly smiling at him when he entered. Jackson threw a frown at his way. "So I met her at last," Taylor told him as he scoured his desk for the things he needed with him. "You got yourself a pretty cool girl."

"And I bet every teacher just loved her," he sighed.

"Adored her, you should have been here!" Taylor exclaimed, "Where were you anyway? Off to class when your freaking girlfriend was here? With mac and cheese?"

"I was preparing." Jackson bravely glanced down the shape of the ring box in his pants pocket. He was surprised Oliver didn't notice it earlier. Taylor only stared at it for a long time until realization dawned upon him.

"No, no way! You're really going to do it, man?" he gaped at Jackson.

"My class' request?" he said in uncertainty. "It's now or never. You can hide in the parking lot – I think everybody's there anyway."

"Good luck, Jack."

Both teachers stood up and went out the lounge together. Jackson's grip on his bag became tighter by the second as he quickened his walk's pace along the strangely deserted hallway. Once he opened the back doors of the school, he noticed that only his sleek blue car was in sight. All the other cars were nowhere to be found – teachers' or students'.

Well played, class, he commended silently. There was his Ollie, leaning on the side of the car, head faced up into the dark blue skies and savoring the late afternoon wind. Sunset was almost there.

Jackson took the deepest breath he could muster since he went inside the hospital room to deliver the chocolate surprise to this insane girl.

He took his time going over to her. Once he stopped in front of her, Jackson's mind was already spinning. Propose or pass out first? He inwardly thought.

"There you are," she said. "You took so long that I finished the mac and cheese myself." She motioned towards the empty tray on the roof of the car.

Jackson cleared his throat, "Don't worry, maybe we can get dinner outside before going home."

She raised both her eyebrows, "Don't take me to a gas station."

"That was years ago, sweets, get over it. It's my call, but you should trust me." She only shrugged ambiguously.

"Bu – but first I want to – to tell you something first." Jackson braced himself. This was it. Around them, even though he couldn't see them, he could feel the undivided attention of the Bridgeshade population over them. He could feel their eyes burning at the back of his head, pushing him to go on.

"Jackson? You were saying?" Oliver stared at him confusedly. He then realized he had been silent for too long.

Shaking, Jackson dropped to one knee. He didn't bother look at her expression. Then, he carefully fished out the thankfully not wet-with-sweat ring box. Every cell in his body shook as he opened it clumsily and presented to her the gleaming gem on the silver ring.

Perhaps he looked so idiotic at that moment, a boy who was sweating uncontrollably and with his bag still tucked under him, he couldn't even keep steady in his position. He could imagine his trio in a facepalm.

"Wi – will y-you ma – "

"I can't say 'yes', Jackson."

Jackson looked up. Her face was unreadable. He could already hear the collective gasp from their invisible audience. But he didn't lose hope. He set aside the ring box and dug into his bag, pulling out a paper bag. He took out the pink delicacy and raised it towards her.

Oliver's face changed momentarily. Her eyes were glazed over and she was sniffing. "S – strawberry, Jackson, really?"

By that time, Jackson felt more confident as he held the sprinkled strawberry doughnut between his lips and fished out the chocolate one, with chocolate chips. He raised it towards her and she began sobbing, covering her eyes with her hands.

He set aside the strawberry coated doughnut to speak properly.

"Oliver Ridge," he stated softly, "Will you do the honors of becoming my wife?"

She sniffed, "You jackass – Oh my chocolate chip doughnut – Oh cakes!"

He didn't waste any time putting the holed doughnut through her ring finger. As she was crying, she munched furiously on the snack.

He gave her time consuming the whole doughnut before saying, "Sweets, I'm still down here, you know."

"God, yes, I'll marry you!" she cried.

Jackson immediately stood up and locked her in a firm embrace. The weight was gone from his shoulders. And finally – finally – they were truly each others'. He sensed the crowd coming out of the walls, cheering and waving the balloons and flags around. But then he only focused on his sweets, burying his head on her hair.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you, too. But Jackson?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I also have the strawberry doughnut, please?"