Elsa gasped in surprise as this complete stranger dressed in white, who had so persistently made sure she had fun and had somehow managed to tear down her walls of self-composure, scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. Her wavy hair glimmered in the lights like waves of the ocean as they caught air and she freely wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling.

If she wasn't wearing a mask, she would never have allowed herself to freely dance like this and just let loose—forget for just a second who she was trying to hide herself from. And even still with her mask on, she probably would be too shy to dance like this with such a big crowd around…yet somehow this guy took off her poised mask she wore on a constant daily basis—the poised mask she herself had such a hard time taking off. What he managed to do was reminding her of who she really was, and if felt refreshing to her, even though she knew she'd forget this feeling the next day, and that no matter how much she wanted to feel it again, it wouldn't happen by her own hands. Of course not literally did he take off her mask—but he was, in a sense, revealing who she really was. Everything she was doing out here on the dancefloor was something she would do if she didn't fear what people would think of her and didn't keep herself reserved. But it was just so hard for her to not care and to have to be cautious around everyone…

Something about this guy already made her feel so comfortable, as crazy as it was—she felt safe and secured. The way she felt was the way she used to always feel when she ice skated before her injury occurred, somehow destroying her abilities to skate, taking her joy away with it. The way she was dancing made her feel like she was back on ice—way back when she was good. When she was really good. Amazing, even. Don't be silly, Elsa, you just met the guy, a voice in her head echoed. It's probably just the comfort of your mask protecting your identity. No one will know who you are once this night is over—that's what's comforting you. She bit her lower lip.

That voice was probably right… Her smile began to soften. She just met this guy—the guy who had the reckless brown hair and sincere ice blue eyes and the smile she was beginning to warm up to—she just met him. This wasn't Romeo and Juliet or any other love story. This was just her having fun at The Charme Masquerade Ball. That's all.

When he set her down, the voice in her head had vanished like darkness fading to the morning light, and the upbeat music playing in the background filled her head, drowning out her thoughts. At first it took her a moment to get back into the swing of things, but she quickly caught on when she saw the playful smirk on his face and he took her hand and spun her around, over and over again. Just for tonight would she allow herself to play Cinderella or Juliet or whoever it was she was playing tonight. Her white dress shimmered and flared out like a blooming flower as he twirled her around, and just when she was to the point to where she could no longer keep up with spotting the feather on the mask that belonged to a girl who had been standing still amidst the crowds for some time, talking to someone, she began to panic and lose her balance. If she wasn't wearing such a heavy dress compared to one of her figure skating dresses, she probably would've been able to keep up with her spotting. Or maybe her dress wasn't the problem and it was her thoughts that were distracting her…

The moment she knew she'd fall and couldn't take the spinning anymore, he suddenly caught her in a dip, saving her unknowingly, right when the music ended—Did he time that on purpose? Immediately she gasped, surprised, blinking. She had both of her arms wrapped around his neck, her left one more so, and when her eyes flickered up to his with a shocked look, she found he was looking at her with this look. It was a mixed look of emotions she couldn't quite comprehend because no one's ever looked at her like this. All she knew was that he was giving her just this…look. It was a look that seemed faintly familiar, but what did she know about anything?

As he brought her back up, a gentle, vague smile on his face, she suddenly took notice of the clapping in the background and looked away from him at the masked figures all around them. In that same instant, he pursed his lips, quickly averting his gaze from her, before he glanced up at the crowd as well.

Elsa's jaw slightly fell ajar. The people who used to be around them had all taken an immense step back, leaving a large space around them. Apparently their simple dance had turned into a performance... She quickly glanced to the brown-haired stranger she had her arms wrapped around. He had his face turned away from her, but as he scanned the crowds, she was soon able to have a perfect view of his side profile, and that same familiar feeling came back to her. She furrowed her eyebrows, pulling her eyes away.

As the people around them began to fill in the space and the next song began to play, she froze, suddenly realizing how long they've actually been dancing. This was the fifth song she's been dancing to with him… Wait…what? No, no... He was just a stranger—how did he manage to keep her out on the dancefloor this long? She remembered slightly dreading to have to dance with him, especially after he pulled that stunt of singing along to the music—quite boldly too—just to get her to dance with him… And now here she was, dancing with him like they had some intimate relationship or were close friends… How did that happen?

"I'm sorry—am I interrupting anything?" a smooth voice from off to the side spoke.

Elsa quickly snapped her head over to the source, finding a black-masked boy dressed in a gold-rimmed, black suit with a small cape covering half of his upper body. He had red hair and sparkling green eyes… Her eyes slightly widened. Hans. It was Hans. She just knew it was him. There was no denying it. How she immediately knew it was him, she would never know. Maybe it was because his hair and eyes were just hard characteristics of his to not ever miss. She clenched her teeth, suddenly aware of where her arms were… Awkwardly, almost hesitantly, she slowly, yet quickly at the same time, withdrew her arms back and clasped her hands in front of her. At the same time, she felt the brown-haired stranger let go of her, but he kept one hand on her waist. She pursed her lips, staring down at the red, sparkly marble ground. She could feel Hans' eyes on her.

"You two really looked exceptional—I mean you could really just feel the connection…" Hans continued, eyeing them both. "Do you two know each other? Like, know-know each other?"

When she looked up, she suddenly realized the tension between Hans and the brown-haired boy beside her. Both boys had their eyes locked with one another—it was like they were having some secret telepathic conversation. Did they know each other? Clearly, from the negative vibes she was beginning to sense, they weren't too friendly with one another, or at least didn't have plans to hug it out. If she didn't know any better, she'd have to guess that the brown-haired stranger was someone from DreamWorks' baseball team. It only made sense. Hans hated DreamWorks High, but he wouldn't waste his time talking to someone he simply hated. He'd waste his time if he completely loathed them and had some business with them. She knew Hans was stupid, but that didn't mean he didn't have a brain like Einstein's or Al Capone's.

"I mean, really, you two seem very…intimate with one another," Hans stated, seeming to pick his words out carefully.

She felt the hand on her waist tense and grip her tighter. Her eyes flickered over to the brown-haired boy curiously, and as she stared at his profile, that same familiar feeling returned, but this time, she realized why he seemed so familiar. He resembled someone she'd been (shamefully) subconsciously keeping a keen eye out for…

No… She tore her gaze away from the boy. She was just becoming desperate now. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She impulsively glanced back up at him, taking in the side profile of his face. As the seconds ticked by like a ticking time bomb, and she found the features on this boy to be quite familiar, the butterflies in her stomach began to flutter as her heartbeat pulsed. She felt nervous again.

"I can't really say that we know each other because we haven't formally introduced each other to one another," this brown-haired stranger spoke, "but, sometimes a formal introduction isn't required when one knows who the other is already. Not that we do really know each other…however it's always a possibility. I mean, I'd like to say it's possible. Sometimes, you only need to officially meet someone once or twice to remember everything about them…." His ice blue eyes glanced to her with a twinkle in his eye, and she made eye-contact with him for only a split-second before he looked back to Hans, but a split-second was all it took for the ticking time bomb to skip its countdown and do what it was meant to do. Instantly, in that split-second, her heart just about stopped and the time bomb inside her head exploded. A million thoughts raced through her head all too fast, and she began to panic. She suddenly felt as if someone had literally ripped her mask off and revealed who she was. She felt exposed—and she was scared. She suddenly felt sick as the nerves in her stomach worsened.

Elsa swallowed, trying to hold down her tongue from that nauseating feeling. "Um—excuse me—I think—I don't feel so good…" And without another word, she gathered up her dress and weaved her way through the crowd. Her stomach felt like it was flying and her tongue felt constrained.

Who had she been dancing with exactly? Was it him? Was it Jack?—but no, he had silver-white hair. But why did that guy look so much like him? She was going insane, wasn't she? She was going crazy. Great. So since she couldn't seem to find Jack, she began to imagine that the stranger she'd been dancing with was actually him? She didn't want to go through with this night imagining it all—but why was she feeling sick? Was she getting nervous because she was letting herself actually believe that that brown-haired stranger could've been Jack? Yes, true—she'd admit to herself that she'd been keeping an eye out for Jack. But that didn't mean she actually wanted to dance with him. She may have thought she wanted to, but that didn't mean she really legitimately wanted to. Oh—why was she feeling this way? This wasn't normal, was it? But what if that was Jack? Did he know who she was? That guy seemed to indicate he knew something…but maybe he was just playing games with her. He said he liked to have fun, didn't he? What kind of fun? There were so many different kinds out there…

She didn't care whether Hans knew who she was—she cared whether or not Jack knew who she was, if that guy even was him. And who knows? Maybe that guy was someone else—like someone from her past—like Michael—someone like Michael. It's been so long...she barely remembered what they looked like now... Hans was a minor problem—he probably forgot who she was already. After all, there were plenty of pretty girls waiting for him to even glance at them, so he had a vast variety to choose from. Why would he pick her?

Furthermore, why did she even care about all of this? She was freaking out over…nothing. Elsa slowed down in her sudden urgency to leave. Maybe this was a sign it was time for her to go or that she never should've come. She never liked public events anyways. Maybe if she'd have grown up differently, she would've felt perfectly fine and comfortable and wouldn't have overreacted like she had just done. What she did and felt wasn't that normal…but then again, whoever said she was normal to begin with? She felt stupid for ever thinking it was an okay idea for her to come to this. She didn't belong here. She never did. It was silly of her to think that her mask could swipe her slate clean… All it did was make reality show how sharp its thorns were, rather than show how beautiful the rose at the top of the stem was. It showed her a part of herself she wasn't too fond of. One night wearing an actual mask was just another way to show her how miserable she's been carrying her life. It was best that she kept herself locked up and away from everyone—that way she wouldn't do any harm to herself, or anyone around her. She was just bad luck.

Elsa came to a stop, soon finding herself standing before the elevator doors. She was supposed to find Anna. She glanced behind her, skimming the crowd. Frowning a little, she slowly brought her gaze back to the elevator doors and hovered her fingertips over the button to go up. It wouldn't kill Anna if they didn't see each other here, right? She exhaled deeply, pursing her lips. Decisions, decisions… One of these days she'd learn better to make the right one. It wasn't today, though. It probably wasn't anytime soon.

"You know, you put on quite a show back there," a voice from behind her spoke, just as she pressed the triangular button pointing upward. The triangle button glowed a soft orange.

Elsa hesitantly turned around, finding a figure dressed as what appeared to be a huntsman standing behind her. He took a step towards her, lifting his mask a little to show her who he was, causing her to smile sheepishly and drop her gaze down in shame.

"Flynn," she tried to display a smile, beginning to rub her right arm. So…how easy was it for him to recognize her?

"I don't think you noticed me, but, I was there…you know, with Hans… I heard as much as you heard. Saw as much as you saw—possibly maybe even more so…" Flynn shrugged, casually clasping his hands behind his back as he steadily took one last step towards her so he was standing right beside her. "Are you okay?"

The doors suddenly opened with a ding, and he gestured her to go in first, following right after her as she crossed the border between the red marble floor, that glittered, like a ruby in bright white lights, to the black, glazed floor. She kept her gaze glued to the ground the whole time as she thought over what he said: He was there with Hans? She didn't remember seeing him. What did he see? How much did he know? When the doors finally closed, Flynn spoke up once again.

"Elsa?"

She began to bite her lower lip as she felt the heavy pull of the elevator going up. She didn't know what to say to him, even though it should've been simple. She didn't want to tell him the truth. She wanted to run away. She wanted to seriously make a run for it. But she knew she'd never get that far in the heels she wore. It was like she was trying to outrun a mass murderer with broken legs. It really shouldn't have been this hard for her to tell him, but something in her mind made it seem like telling him would suddenly cause the whole world to end—at least her whole world to end.

"You weren't really sick, were you?" he sighed. She could feel his eyes boring into her.

Actually…yes. Her mind spoke, but her lips were sealed shut like they had been set in stone. But it's really stupid why….

Ding. The elevator doors opened from behind. Instantly she turned around like she were possessed and began heading out the doors. What was she supposed to say? She felt like an absolute disgrace to herself. She felt ashamed and embarrassed that he witnessed her having that small panic-attack moment. It wasn't even that big of a deal, really—but all at the same time, it was. She just felt so foolish about it all.

"Elsa—" he called after her, catching hold of her wrist— "You have nothing to be afraid of—it's okay—it's just me."

She turned to look at him, searching his face. He gently let go of her, nodding his head at her, staring at her with sincere brown eyes. She shook her head, turning away from him. "I'm sorry, Flynn—but can we just talk about this later?"

"No," he sternly said. "If you don't tell me now, I know you'll never say it. So just tell me—I'm not judging you—you of all people should know that I could and would never… I mean—especially when you compare me to you—you're that much better than I am."

"No! No!—I'm not! That's just it! I'm actually worse than you! You don't understand! I can't—please, just leave me alone—I want to go home." Elsa looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please…" She softened her voice, trying to cover up her small outburst. She didn't mean to shout. "It's all just stupid, silly, ridiculous reasons that I have to give to you…"The whole time she spoke, she couldn't help but think of how it shouldn't have been this hard to tell him the simple, raw truth. But something inside of her was beginning to take control, and whatever it was was commanding her body to do everything but settle down and have a friendly, nice chat.

"Elsa, please…" Flynn took a step towards her.

"No!—Flynn, just go back—have fun. I'll be fine—it's okay…" She crossed her arms, gripping tightly onto both of her forearms. Why are you so hostile? she demanded inwardly to herself, almost expecting another voice to answer. But inside her head, all she heard was silence reply back. What was she expecting?

"Elsa…"

"No, no…" She began walking backwards, causing him to walk towards her.

"Please just—" he reached out to her, wanting to hold her still, but at the same time not wanting to give her a reason to feel hostile towards him.

"No! Just go!" She turned away from him. "Just…drop it…"

She heard him heave out a sigh. "Elsa—" his hand suddenly grabbed her arm, and she reflectively tried to jerk her arm free, but he held onto her tightly.

"Flynn, let go!" she demanded, struggling in his grasp.

"Elsa, please—don't do this—"

"Let go—!" she yanked on her arm as hard as she could to free it, and she succeeded, he let go, but in the same process , she caused herself to lose her balance and crash to the floor…and she came crashing down to the floor hard. She lost her breath as soon as she made contact with the cold, hard ground. An overwhelming feeling rushed over her like a tidal wave, and her eyes began to heat up while her throat began to feel constricted. She slowly pushed her upper body up, the whole flat of both of her forearms aching with pain. Her vision blurred and she kept her head low so her hair would hide her face like curtains on a window hiding the sun.

"Elsa—I—I'm so sorry!" Flynn rushed over to her, guilt whacking his thoughts mercilessly. He knew better than to grab her arm. He knew what would happen… he knew…. "Please know that when I say 'I'm sorry,' I really mean it… I—I can't believe I just did that!—I—I..."

By then, Elsa had finally managed to prop her upper body up with her left hand firmly planted on the ground; her left arm was shaking, threatening to give out on her, but she continued to rely on that as her main support, not caring whether or not it broke like a stick and let her fall. She pressed the palm of her right hand to her forehead, finding it hard to swallow. Her eyes were closed shut, and she could feel the brim of her eyes dampening as she tried her best to consume her tears within her. It was all her fault…now she never felt as foolish as she did now. It would've been so much easier if she had just told him the truth. It shouldn't have been that hard.

"I'm so sorry," she heard Flynn whisper off to the side of her.

She finally managed to swallow and looked to him, slowly lowering her right arm that still stung with pain. He was looking down. The silhouettes of his brown hair made him appear grim, and the fact that the lighting in the room was dark to begin with made everything seem more uninviting. It was just them inside the small domed room—just them and their pains and grief—and even though right next door to them was most likely a count of over one thousand boys and girls combined, they felt isolated and cut off from the world—like they were inside some bubble.

"It's not your fault," Elsa softly spoke, waiting for Flynn to look up. She was appalled at herself for allowing her pains and miseries seep out of her like blood gushing from and open wound, and let him get his hands covered with her own blood because he was trying to help, only to pass on her despairs like a deadly virus…maybe something like Ebola, except the effects were instant, within one second. "I just…overreacted. I overreacted to everything. It's not your fault, Flynn. I don't know why…no…I don't know what's wrong with me. I overreacted to something so little and stupid back there," she slowly took off her mask.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I never should've come to this—this never would've happened," she continued, keeping her voice hushed as she stared down at her white, glittery mask. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered, turning her head away as the tears began to overflow out of her eyes.

"No, it's not your fault," Flynn suddenly spoke up, keeping his voice gentle and smooth. He softly placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly towards him. "It's not your fault for anything. And deep down, you know it's not your fault. But I know you, Elsa, and you like to take the real problem from the situation and blame its cause all on yourself if you're a victim or witness of the situation, so no one else has to take the blame."

That's because it is my fault, she quietly thought, arguing with him inside her head. If she could've done something about it but didn't, if maybe she was different herself—more bold, brave, strong—and could've taken a stand but didn't, then she was to blame. That's what she believed.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly offered her his hand to take. She wiped her eyes, cautious about making her makeup seem any worse than it probably looked, and took his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she let go of his hand, and dropped her gaze down to her hands that were recomposing her dress, the moment she looked back up, he was offering her his arm this time. Both gestures he had offered her were both vaguely familiar, like a distant dream she'd had from the past as a child.

"What are you doing?" she softly smiled, remembering Jack, or whoever that boy was from earlier, and his persistency. Would he have still been that persistent if she wasn't wearing a mask?

"I'm escorting you to your car, what else?" he grinned at her.

She laughed, staring at his arm for a second, deciding whether or not he would do something crazy like start singing along to the music the DJ was playing, acting as if he had a microphone of his own and was performing, before she took it.

As Flynn led her out of the dark domed room, and outside of the large building, and down the steps, she finally then asked, "So did you see Rapunzel?"

He merely chuckled at this, shaking his head. "Yeah."

"I didn't see her, but I'm sure she looked beautiful," Elsa went on.

"Yeah…she did," he quietly sighed.

"It's okay, Flynn. When you're ready, you'll find your way back to her. Just don't take too long—you don't have a lifetime and neither does she," she dropped her gaze off to the side, admiring the snow she could see.

"Thank you, Elsa…"

She looked to him slightly confused. "What? I didn't do anything…"

"We'll just say that if you were me, you'd understand."

She slowly nodded her head, bringing her gaze down to her mask. "Alright, Flynn, whatever you say…"

"Did you see Anna?" he questioned.

"No," she shook her head, "but I'm sure she looked stunning," she sighed, pursing her lips as she continued to stare at her glittering mask.

Jack laughed as he talked on his cell phone with Tooth, who had to leave early due to her parents suddenly calling her to come to this dinner party they were at because this well-known dentist was there, or something of the sort. All he knew was that Tooth left early to go meet some well-known dentist so she can talk to him about dentistry because that's the career she wanted to pursue.

"Jack, I really think becoming a dentist is the perfect job for me!" she exclaimed through the phone. "I mean, I've always been so interested in teeth, and I always look at people's smiles first before I look at their actual face and point out all the things in my mind that could be done to perfect their teeth. What do you think? Do you think I could become a good dentist? Because I think I could become a pretty darn good dentist."

"I think…your crazy," he stated, grinning smugly. His keys jingled on the key ring as he pushed the one specific key that unlocked the garage door through its lock and turned it.

"What?!" Tooth bursted with a scoff.

"Well—listen to yourself!—what kind of girl such as yourself stares at teeth all day? I mean, shouldn't you be interested in looking at people's fingernails and toenails, deciding what color of nail polish would look nice?' he joked, opening the door and stepping inside his home. The warmth from inside immediately wrapped around him and the sweet smell of cookies filled his nose.

As he walked further inside, Tooth exclaimed, "Jack! Ugh! You can be such a—"

"A gentleman?" he cut in, waving to North, who was sitting on the couch going through a bunch of papers scattered out on the glass coffee table in front of him, as he passed by the living room and headed up the stairs.

"Jack!" North's eyes widened. "I thought you were someone else for a split-second!" he let out a hearty laugh. "I forgot that you did—" he began swirling his finger around the top of his head "—that—yeah, uh… Oh! So how was the dance?!"

"Uh, it was good, uh, yup. It was good—different—it was definitely different, but uh, yeah," he tapped his hand on the stair rail before continuing on his way up.

"Oh, my gosh! You were talking to North, weren't you?!" Tooth spurted over the phone.

"Oh, no—you didn't think I was—you thought I was talking to—" he snickered— "Yeah, it was North."

"I was so confused at first! I should have known! Jack!" she whined. "You make me feel stupid!"

"Uh, sorry?" He rolled his eyes, tousling his hair, causing sprinkles of cold droplets to fall. There was a snowstorm going on outside like a hurricane ever since he left the masquerade dance; from what he saw, it wasn't going to simmer down anytime soon. When he brought his hand down, he furrowed his eyebrows at what appeared to be dirt smudges on his hand, and that's when he remembered. "Uh, Tooth, could you hold for just a sec? I'm going to go wash my hair—I can just wash it with regular water, right?"

"Uhhhh—oh yeah! Yeah! Water—regular—whatever works."

"Alright. Do you want me to call you back or…"

"Um, I can wait."

"Okay. I'll try not to take too long," he sighed, heading towards the bathroom and placing his cell phone on the countertop. When he looked in the mirror, he stared at his hair: it was colored brown. It looked like his sister's hair color, but slightly darker.

It was his idea to color his hair a different color for this dance specifically, and Tooth helped him get the job done. He knew his hair was a dead giveaway. Anyone would be able to spot him out like a large white circle in a room of nothing but black. He wanted to be able to have the same advantage as everyone else and go unknown to this dance, rather than known at first sight. It just sort would've ruined the whole point of the dance if he'd have gone with his normal hair color, so he asked Tooth for help and she gave him a hair product that would color his hair a different shade and wash out easily after one or two shampoo washes. Tooth had suggested to just get a wig, but he hated the idea of having to wear fake hair and was a little creeped out by it. It just wasn't right.

Jack exhaled deeply and turned away from the mirror, first taking his white mask that hung around his neck off, before beginning to take his white suit coat off and the rest of his white apparel. He was a little worried that the hair product Tooth had gotten for him wouldn't wash out like it was supposed to do, but when he looked on the bright side, brown wasn't too shabby of a color on him, and at least he hadn't colored his hair some crazy bright colors, so if worse came to worse, it wouldn't be as terrible as it could've been.

By the time Jack was finished washing up, he quickly got redressed in a blue sweater and black athletic pants with his school's mascot imprinted on it in white along with Nike's swoosh symbol below it on his right pant leg. Shaking his head like a dog to get rid of the dripping from his hair, he returned to the bathroom to check his hair in mirror. He pursed his lips as he examined his hair, slowly picking up his cellular device from where he had left it and brought it to his ear.

"Tooth?" he called, wondering whether or not she hung up from getting tired of waiting for him; he wouldn't blame her if she did because who wants to sit there waiting for someone to return to the phone when there's a possibility that it could be an hour? But then again, he only took about ten or so minutes at the max, to be precise, eight minutes, so it's not like he was making her wait for an eternity.

"Yeah, right here—so, how does it look?" she asked excitedly, her voice hinting a bit of timidity in it.

"I think we have a problem," he breathed, continuing to examine his hair. "Wow…" He quietly spoke, barely audible so she couldn't hear. He tousled his hair, turning away from the mirror as he gathered his white vintage suit and mask for the masquerade ball from off the floor and brought it to his room, closing his bedroom door behind him.

"What?!" she shrilled. "NO! Oh, no, no, no, no—please NO! I'm so sorry Jack! The product said it was supposed to wash out after one or two shampoo washes! Oh—here! I'll come over right now and wash it out for you! Maybe you didn't wash it good enough! Did you use shampoo?!"

Jack smirked in amusement as he dropped his clothes on his bed and sat back in his white desk chair and grabbed his well-used baseball from off of his desk and began tossing it up, catching and tossing it up over and over again.

"Okay—Jack—" Tooth boldly began. In the background, he could hear the sound of keys jingling. She had her car keys. "I'm coming over!" she declared.

Chuckling, he caught his baseball and leaned over, his elbows on his knees, and said, "Um, Tooth? I was joking."

Tooth fell silent for only a second. He could already see her facial expression. Her jaw was most definitely dropped down to the ground. He grinned, pulling his cell phone away from his ear and leaning back in his chair, continuing on with tossing his baseball and catching it, over and over again.

"WHAT?! JACK!" he could hear her voice shriek through his phone's speakers, and from there, he waited patiently until it was safe for him to bring his phone back up to his ear without going deaf.

When he could no longer hear her voice as loud and sharp, he brought his cell phone back up to his ears with a pleasant grin. "Are you done?" he taunted.

She scoffed, but laughed. "Jack—you made me—ugh! I swear! You… Ugh! You're such a stinker!—such a jerk! No wonder you don't have a girlfriend!"

"Hey, hey, hey—if a girl can't handle all of this without getting offended, then she's clearly not the one for me and most definitely doesn't deserve me when I'm at my best. Just saying," he simply retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"Huh… Touché, Jackson. Never knew you could be such a wise old wizard."

"Yeah, and who knew you were actually the Tooth Fairy," he said with purposeful phenomenon laced within his voice, "I mean it's such a marvel."

Tooth forced out dry laughter. "Aha, right. And speaking of which…"

Jack cocked his head, catching his baseball one last time before asking, "What?"

"I told you!" she boasted.

"Told me what?" He continued tossing his baseball up again.

"I totally told you that the so-called 'surprise' for this dance would be something about everyone having their 'soulmate' there and that you'd have to do something with them! I told you the surprise wouldn't have anything to do with costume contests or anything of the sort! I so told you!"

"Ah, that, right… Wait, how did you know? You left early…" He halted throwing his baseball up, turning in his chair to gaze out his window. It was still snowing crazily.

"Jack, more than one girl from the cheer team texted me how lucky I was to have left early because of what happened. Also, I met the girl who was supposed to be the Snow Queen, and that's what your slip said—and I just knew from there that I was right."

"Oh, so you…okay. I see…" He slowly nodded his head, continuing tossing his baseball up.

"So…?"

He raised his eyebrows. "So…what?"

"Did you find the pretty Snow Queen girl?!Did you dance with her?!" Tooth excitedly asked. "Or did you think it was lame and didn't even give her a chance? You know she looked really pretty and seemed really nice when I talked to her—please tell me you asked her to dance with you…? Do you know how cute that would've been?! OH! I wish I was there…" She heaved out a long, drastic sigh. "Wait…did you even dance with her?"

Jack shook his head. "Yeah, I did. Don't worry about it. Trust me. I—I danced with her." He then threw his baseball up higher than usual.

"Good. Did you get her number?"

"What?" he snickered, his baseball coming down and hitting him on his forehead. He contorted his face, taking a moment to rub his forehead before he went to retrieve his baseball. It was a good thing he was alone in his room…

Tooth laughed. "I take that as a 'no'… Did anything exciting happen?"

"No, not really," he pursed his lips.

"Okay, well, I'm tired and I want to go to bed… So, is your hair is okay then?"

"Yup, my hair is okay," he replied, picking his baseball up. One more wash and his hair would be fully clear and back to its original state.

"M'kay. Well, goodnight, Jack."

"Goodnight, Tooth," a lopsided smile formed on his face as he spoke. He then ended the call and set his phone on his desk. Glancing out the window after hearing a strong gust of wind, his gaze traveled over to his white suit. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced down at his baseball, shaking his head. He's never missed catching the ball. Ever.

Huzzah! Got this one down! I mean seriously...gosh! I totally thought I would hate this chapter because it just wasn't turning out right...but now, I'm quite content with it. I think only the very, very, very beginning part might bug me slightly, but not really. :) Also, say hallelujah because the real fun and stuff will be beginning in this upcoming chapter, and I will not be writing school dance scenes for a long time. (I'm so done with school dances. ;D)

Also, so about me putting the description of each outfit down...I've been debating about this for a little bit...and today I just had to do it, so, haha, yeah, you guys will think I'm crazy, I know, but I got a stinkin' Pinterest account to make life so much easier! So, yeah, instead of me giving you lovely, long descriptions of the outfits for you to type in to Google or whatever you've got to have a better visual idea of my lamesauce descriptions, I'll just simply put down the link to my specialized Pinterest account on my profile for just this very reason, and there you'll have my whole, mini reasons/explanations for my thoughts and why I chose the apparel and it should make life easier for you as well!* I was hesitant about creating a Pinterest account because I felt crazy for doing it and people on Pinterest would probably be weirded out by my extra words at the end...but I thought, "What the heck" and created a new one for this. Haha, and I'm finding it really funny because someone already followed me...but hey, who knows, maybe it's someone that's reading what I write, so, yay. That's awesome and exciting. ;D Maybe, though. I'm not sure, of course because the chances are or at least should be very low.

*However, to any of you who may not have access to Pinterest or liked me putting the description down and you Google a lot better, then say the magic word and I will continue to do that as well. :D

Anyways, so, this is officially my 20th chapter! I know it says 21st, but that first chapter doesn't count. ;D So, because it's my 20th...*drum rolls everybody*...role call! It's time I did role call and gave a shout-out to all of you stunning, smashing readers who have taken the time to review!: JelsaLover12, unicorns, OoPoPcAnDy, Sure Snowflake, sydvan23, Imelda, CelesteGurl, Lostblueheart 16, lovinglovexx, Sky-Sea-Earth, reluctant-persona, PinkFlowerTag, thesirenserenity, MysticRayne, electricangel12, Fairah, naomityana, Randomperson, Imaguest, adrianazaba, and the 24 guests! (Sorry, I'm not completely sure how many of you are the same guests...) THANK YOU!

And thanks to all of you who take the time to read!

Oh, and one last thing, of course...

MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope you all have been jamming out to Christmas music because it really is the best. ;D

(It's 3:37 in the morning, and it is the 25th... Now you all know what I mean when I say I struggle with going to bed on time, right? I promise it's not insomnia, it's just a terrible habit of having the ability to naturally stay up late because I'm your all-time night owl, plus I was on a roll with this chapter! I'm also a morning person, but it's not a good combo with being a night person. Especially when school comes around.)