"Anna! Hurry up! I'm leaving now; you have thirty seconds to be downstairs or you're riding the bus!" I shout up the stairs, grabbing my book bag. I run my hands through my lighter-than-blonde hair, throwing the long wispy bangs off my face down towards my loose side braid. I try and smooth out a stubborn wrinkle in my dark blue shirt. After a few seconds I give up and glance around for Anna. Ugh. Why does Anna always take so long to get ready? I mean the girl takes fifteen minutes on her makeup. What's the point? She's only in ninth grade, it's not like she needs a boyfriend.
"I'm coming down now; hold your metaphorical horses for one minute, Elsa!" Anna calls back down. I hear her clopping around, running room to room grabbing her books.
As I begin to rifle through my purse, I notice Anna is wearing a pretty green dress. In the middle of January? Ugh, she must have class with that boy later. I don't see the point of careless relationships. I have my studies to take my mind off of things like boys and their stupid ways. "Come on Anna, or I'll have to shove you in the trunk." I say, ushering Anna out the door.
"Elsa, don't you dare. Or I'll have to push you in the river again." She shot right back.
I still don't think she knows about my problem. More of a curse if you ask me. I apparently died and was resuscitated, but I woke up in the ER two hours later from a drug induced coma. It was five years to the day when I was accidentally pushed in by Anna, but she was only ten. She doesn't remember anything because of the drugs the doctor gave her to reduce the mental trauma and guilt. Whereas I was thirteen, and I remember everything.
The almost drowning, the pain in my lungs, seeing the moon through the water, and seeing the shadow of a boy my age jump in the river and grasp my hand and an odd chill run through me. After that, it all went black. I woke up to the sound of electronic beeps and soft crying. I remember everything. Everything but the cold. I realize that until that boy grabbed my hand, I had never felt the feeling of cold. I always thought it was the jackets, but I guess not. I accepted that I can't feel cold.
"Elsa? ELSA!"
"AGH!" I scream, snapped out of my thoughts. "What did you need Anna?" I ask breathless, still in shock from the scare.
"You've been staring into space for a whole minute. Are we going to go?"
"Oh yeah, sorry. I just was thinking about how I can't…" I stop myself before I finish that thought. Crap. How am I going to get out of this hole? "… Can't let that one go." I finish on a higher note than I wanted, making it sound like a question.
"Ok…" Anna just kind of stares at me, judging me. I waste no time getting out of that spotlight and into the car. "Don't forget to text mom Elsa!" She calls back. Mom is abroad in Europe right now, being a CEO for a major company has her out of town more often than she is in town. Although we never see each other, and our dad left her after Anna was born, we still call and text her all the time, being that we live alone on our own terms.
"You text her, I'm driving Anna!" I call to the other side of the car. It's a quiet but short drive to Arendelle High, considering we live only ten minutes walking distance. We normally walk, but we agreed that we would stop walking after it had gone into the lower twenties for a week straight. I never cared about the chill outside though; it was the heat that got to me. Pulling up to the curb to let Anna out, I call after her to text me where to pick her up later.
After a few minutes of searching for one, I come across a parking space in the way back. I snatch my ice blue backpack from behind me, like every other day before, and jump out, ready to run to workshop. I go to close the door behind me, not realizing that I was about two feet from the door itself. I flick my wrist to close the door, and feel stupid for not realizing how far from the door I was, being that I completely missed.
But that humiliation didn't last very long, vanishing when I heard my car door shut. Suddenly my car door was the most interesting thing in the world. Workshop my ass, I just closed my car door with my mind! I go over to inspect the door, and am shocked to find a thick coating of ice over the handle. "No…" I whisper to myself, shocked at what I've done. I normally can control myself, and this was an accident.
I guess it all started about a year after I fell in. I was inside, about to go outside to play in the snow, when I got bored and began to think about the snow outside. I started thinking about snowball fights, when all of a sudden a snowball began to form. I started flipping out and threw it across my room. Now whenever I'm angry, little jagged icicles begin to appear all around me. I had to learn that when people make fun of me, I just have to let it go and not let people get to me.
Sighing, I stand up and put my hands deep in my back pockets and walk inside, hearing people muttering about my sanity because I'm not wearing any jackets when it's -17 outside. One group was muttering and pointing towards shop and saying we have a hot new boy. Whatever, they can gossip all they want; boys are by far the most overrated thing in the world. Besides heat waves.
I manage to slip out of the gym where they hold the kids who got off the buses too early by claiming that I needed to finish something with Mr. North, the shop teacher. I actually do, but I would have had plenty of time in class to complete it. Walking into shop class a good ten minutes before the bell rang, I notice Mr. Smith talking to someone in the room. I stop, walk back out, and knock on the door and immediately walk in past him and the other kid. "Come in, come in, say hi to the new student. His name is Jackson Frost."
"Jack, please. No need for formalities here." He says to Mr. Smith.
"Ok. Elsa, please come say hello to Jack."
"Thanks but no thanks, I need to finish where I left off yesterday. I'm not done yet, Mr. Smith." I state flatly, not even bothering to look at Jack or Mr. Smith. I mentally face palm. I really should stop being so dismissive to other people at school, but I knew they all talked about me. Why would she always hide her hands? They say, Why does she always freak out when it's hot outside? Why the hell won't she wear a jacket? It all gets boring, and I just gave up.
"Elsa," he says flatly, "At least address him. Say hello, you guys are very similar, from what it seems.''
"Doubt that…'' I mutter to myself, and I think I hear him say something along the same lines. I turn around to say a quick hello and get back to work, but freeze when I do. Dang. He looks like me. That certainly is a first. He is wearing a dark blue hoodie the same color as mine, but with details around the neck and wrists that look like ice. I glance down, noticing the black jeans he wears have the same icy design at the bottoms of the legs. We have the same icy blue eyes, but his are so oddly familiar. "Do I know you?" I ask, actually curious about the boy with the blue eyes.
"Elsa, you said?" He asks, neither to Mr. Smith or me. "That name is too rare and too familiar. Did you ever live in Burgess? It's a small town outside of here about…"he trails off, staring at me. This is really uncomfortable.
"Well, I need to go get some more wood for class from the shed across campus. I will be right back." Mr. Smith says and walks out, completely oblivious to the situation.
After about twenty seconds of uncomfortable staring on his part suddenly his eyes widen in what seems like shock and he says something that I couldn't make out, but sounded a little like 'The river'
"Uh… what did you say?"
"You know what, never mind. I'll be right back." He says quickly in a nervous tone and turns away as his face goes red. I stare at the door frame, confusion all over my face, for a while then finally shrug it off and turn back to my piece.
I slide down the wall of the bathroom stall, panic attack in full strength, breath coming in short puffs of cold air. Jack, you just saw the girl you saved. The girl that died in your hands, but you brought back to life. The girl you saved and gave back to her family. The girl who haunts your dreams. The girl whose dead face was the saddest but yet most beautiful thing in the world. You just met her. And wow did she grow up. That girl who died in your arms five years ago today turned out to be the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. The air suddenly seems a million times thicker and hotter, so I snatch off my blue hoodie hastily, trying to control my thoughts. I saw her get her powers. The whole river lit up just after she closed her eyes. I watched the magic happen.
I begin to feel sick and think that I'm about to pass out from stress, soI do what always makes me feel better. With a simple motion of the hands, I create a large snowflake in my hands. Legend says that anyone who died in that river remained frozen, even after they should have thawed.
I know that the river has magical powers, because I died the same way Elsa did, by drowning. But that was when I was not even two, so my powers have matured longer. Hers must be only beginning to develop. As the snowflake twists and twirls above my palm, I 'breathe out my problems' as my mother once told me. She probably hasn't even figured out what is happening. It took mine about five years for the powers to start to show up, and that's how long it's been.
I glance around to a clock and notice that I've been gone for about three minutes. I scrape off frozen trails of tears that I never knew I shed, and walk back to workshop class. They've released all the kids from since I went into the bathroom and the halls are all but overflowing with other seniors like me. I find shop class and slide in the door not a second before the late bell rings. As I glance around the room, I notice the only seat left is next to Elsa. This should be interesting. Walking over to the seat, I see a couple girls giggling and waving to me. I shyly wave back and awkwardly sit next to Elsa.
After a class of heavily accented instructions on how to make a clock with only a minute to go before I can leave, Elsa abruptly turns, staring me straight in the eyes and asks "What did you mean 'the river' earlier, Jack?"
Oh crap. I said that out loud? I go with the most obvious excuse that comes to mind. "When did I say that?" Wow, way to go genius. You didn't even deny it.
"Right before you turned red, began to shake, and ran out the room. Remember now?" She says with an accusatory tone.
"Uh… I didn't do that" I try and lie, but it only sounds like a question. Crap.
Elsa arches an eyebrow, and her eyes stare straight through my soul, it seems. She looks like she's going to argue, but the bell rings before she could say anything. Oh thank god. I think as I grab my things and almost run out the room.
Oh crap. That almost could have gone very badly. I manage to make it to my locker before anyone else claims it as make out territory, which I am surprised by considering I got lost twice. Grabbing my books I walk over to my science class. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that Elsa won't be in this class. I probably shouldn't have looked at her schedule while she wasn't looking earlier, but I needed to be prepared for when she would be in my class. I slide down into my seat and listen as Mrs. White drones on and on about molecular mass. I slide out my sketchbook. Everyone everyone in Burgess said that I am an amazing artist, but I don't agree. I flip through the pages, and it dawns over me that in this book, all of them are of that night at the river. I come to the most recent one from last week of what I saw right before the little girl I saved died in the water. I now know that little girl was Elsa. My stomach starts to feel funny so I snap the sketchbook shut and try and focus, but my hands start tapping annoyingly. Giving into temptation I pull my book out again and begin to outline.
An hour and a half later, I hear a sharp bell noise and place the finishing touches down on my piece. As I lift my hand, I glance at the paper one last time. I am strangely confident in this one. I even got the little details in, ones that you never notice from a distance but now I know them. Sighing again I close the book, placing it hidden in my binder. I walk back to my locker and put my stuff in, but am startled by a group of familiar voices.
"Frost?" A loud Australian accent calls out, clapping my shoulder and turning me around. Only one person in the world would do that.
"Bunny?" I tease, I know he hates the nickname, but I used to use it all the time to piss him off. "Well well well if it isn't A. Ester Bunnymund!" I say loudly.
"Oh shut up, mate. How ya been? Why aren't you in Burgess anymore?" He asks. I go to answer, but before I say anything a familiar flash of green and blue runs up.
"Jack!" Another one of my old Burgess friends, Toothiana nearly screams before tackling me to the ground. She is the craziest person I know, she dyed her hair a blue green and wears the same three colors all the time, yellow, green, and blue.
"Tooth! How have you guys been? Where's North and Sandy?" I ask, looking over their shoulders.
"Sandy and North are still in the History room. Something about failing a test." Bunny says, walking toward the cafeteria.
"Jack, do you have anywhere to sit? You can sit with us! That'd be cool; it'd be like old times again!" Tooth begins to ramble on. I learned early on to let her finish her spiels before answering. I don't feel too well so I just nod and grab my lunch as tooth joins Bunny talking something about some math teacher.
"Wait, Tooth!" I call over to her, not knowing what came over me to do so. She strolls back over, curious. "What do you know about Elsa?"
"Elsa, why do you always find it necessary to arrive early to art before everyone else?" Mrs. Punz, the art teacher, asks. Over the four years here, I have taken her class every year, so we have grown relatively close. This is the only class I look forward coming to everyday, and it sucks because this year my schedule got all mixed up and art got put last bell. "You realize that I appreciate the help setting up for class, but still. Stop in the halls and talk to some people, Elsa." Suddenly her voice drops to barley a whisper. "How are your powers going along?"
The first time anything happened in school, I was in the art room helping her set up for an open house. She saw it happen and has been my lifeline ever since. I feel at ease in her class, especially when I'm alone. She says that when her mother was pregnant with her, she fell ill and was fed a broth that contained a flower that was magical. After she was born, her hair would glow if a certain song was sung. Someone kidnapped her and abused her hair, until she met her husband after she ran away and he cut it to save her. She was used to magic, and helped me control mine.
"But why should I tell you if I could just show it to you?" I say to the young teacher I glace around the room, being content that nobody was watching.
I lay out my hand and begin to make little swirls with my other hand above it. Our faces light up when a miniature snowman appears on my hand. Suddenly I hear footsteps outside the room and I make the snowman vanish and slip into the storage room.
Somebody slowly opens the door, and I peer out to see who it is, and my face drops.
"Uh, this is the art room, right?" Jack asks, and Mrs. Punz nods.
"Jack, right? I have you seated next to, uh," Mrs. Punz says, searching for her clipboard. I see her face light up when she finds it under a pile of sketchbooks. "You're next to; let me see, next to Elsa." I come out from the back room and I shoot her a look, hoping she'll get the message. "What Elsa? You need to talk to people in this class besides me, and I think you'll get along fine. So Jack, I've heard from one of my students, Tooth, that you are quite the artist, so…"
She trails off once she notices that he isn't paying any attention to her or me, but to a painting behind us. She turns around and locates the painting in question. "Oh, that's one of Elsa's works. She really likes painting and drawing rivers and ponds, right Elsa?"
I freeze at the mention of one of my paintings. I never was too proud of any of them, and this one was one that I really tried to get right. As I turn around, I breathe a sigh of relief that he is looking at my best work. I took three weeks to finish it, but I got it down to perfection. It was the last thing I saw before I died; the boy, the moon, and the broken ice above me. I loved the painting, and since everyone else did too, I let Mrs. Punz put it up. But only the two of us know what it really means.
I notice Jack started frantically rummaging through his binder and pulling out an obviously old sketchbook. As he flips through the book, he settles on a page. I notice it's a page with only a date on it. Seeing the date for only a few seconds before he turns the book out of my view, I note that it was done last week. He whispers something into Mrs. Punz's ear, and after he nods to him, he flips the page. She kind of freezes and doesn't say anything for a while.
Nothing is really happening, and I'm bored, so I decide to leave them two. "Hey, I'll be right back, I'm going to the restroom." I say as I stroll out of the room.
After I walk back, I notice the whole class is standing outside of the room, except Jack. I get at the end of the line, but Tiana, another student, tells me that Mrs. Punz needs me inside, and to knock. Confused, I do as she says, and walk in, feeling awkward to be put on the spot. I walk in, and am met with a warm stare from Mrs. Punz and Jack's back. She walks towards me, and whispers in my ear "Listen, Elsa. Don't talk, just listen." I expect some uncalled for lecture, but she just walks to the door, calling behind her "I'm taking the class to the library" and walking out.
I stare down at my feet until I see a single solitary snowflake land on one of my feet. I suddenly become aware that it was snowing in the room. I glance at my hands and hold them close to my chest, and look up, horrified that my powers are getting stronger, but I notice that a blue light is radiating off of Jack's hand. He is just looking at me with a smirk and warm eyes. I smile and make a little snowman on the table. I suddenly become more comfortable with him than I have ever been. "So, why do you paint?" I feel my face twist with confusion at the question.
"Uh, the ideas come to me, and I like to paint them, the same reason everyone else does," I almost ask, still confused at the paintings.
"No, I mean why do you paint lots of drowning scenes? And from what Mrs. Punz showed me, they all seem like the same place." He asks, and I suddenly feel like I've been put on the spot.
"Uh…"
"This may sound weird, but why did you paint that scene. Just, where did you get your inspiration, and the detail is amazing. That certainly can't be imagination." He asks causally.
"I, uh, saw it on TV," I say before thinking. Great. This could either go good or very bad.
"What show? Bad. Very bad.
"Survivor man?" Not sure if I'm asking or telling. But it looks like he's buying it.
"If you were to talk to the boy in the painting, the boy who is saving, right?" I nod, not sure where this is going. "What would you say to him? Most people put a message in their work."
I stare at him confused. Why would he want to know about what I want to tell the boy who saved me? "The boy is risking his life to save mine, the girl in the painting, which is already almost gone. I would want to make it up to him, I would want to smack him for not going back up, I would want to say and do so many things, but mostly I would want to thank him." I trail off, only then noticing I was rambling.
I stare at my feet and begin to mess with my hair, something I do when I'm anxious. Suddenly, I am enveloped in a protective hug.
"It's ok. You're welcome."