Things I've learned about Elsa:

-She's a really good singer/songwriter/pianist

-She actually is afraid of heights

-She's been to Disneyland

-She likes math

-She can't snap

-She likes homemade ice cream bars (who doesn't?)

-She can't do a backflip either (That makes me feel better.)

Author's Note: These reviews are awesome! :-)

By the way, Anna and Kristoff are in sixth grade, Hans is in seventh grade, and Elsa is in eigth grade.

I don't really have anything else to say except hat this is another long chapter. I hope you like it!

I sit on my bed, doodling.

"Anna?"

I look up to see Elsa standing in the doorway. "Could I, erm, talk to you?"

"Of course!" I reply, a bit too excitedly. Elsa still doesn't talk much, even after our ferris wheel incident, so I jump at the opportunity to talk to her.

I move my papers and she sits down. "What's up?" I ask.

"Well, it's, um, it's about school." Elsa sighs. "What is it like?"

"Oh, well, it's like any school, really." I answer lamely.

"…That's-That's kind of the thing…" Elsa looks at her feet, blushing again. "I haven't really been to a proper school since I entered the orphanage, when I was eight, and,um, I've never been to a middle school…"

"Oh…" I look at her sympatheticly. "Were you tutored at the orphanage?"

Elsa nods, still blushing.

"Hey," I say softly, putting my hand on her shoulder. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Elsa looks up. "Are the kids there…nice?"

"Most of them are." I answer.

Elsa looks down again.

"You know, one of my friends is adopted, too." I tell her.

Elsa perks up. "Really?"

I nod. "His name's Kristoff. He lives right next door. He was adopted a few years ago."

Elsa smiles. Not just her shy smile, though; a real smile. But, then it falters when she asks, "Do the kids at your school…are they…" She looks away and mutters, "I sound so immature." She looks at me again and finishes, "Are they mean to him?"

I shake my head.

Elsa sighs, putting her head in her hands.

"Are you ready to go to school, yet?" I ask. "Mama said that you don't have to go right away."

"I don't really know," Elsa says. "But, I know I'll have to go eventually, and I guess I just want to get it over with."

"You can do it, Elsa." I assure her, looking her in the eyes.

"Can I?" She questions shakily.

"Sure you can," I smile. "I know you can."

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Mngh!" I groan, rolling over and pressing the snooze button.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"MNGH!" I grab my alarm and switch it off. Mama had to get me the alarm that beeps louder when you hit snooze.

I drag myself out of bed to see Elsa still sleeping. I walk over to her bed and crouch next to her. "Psst. Elsa. Psst. Elsa."

"Hmm?" She mumbles.

"Wake up." I whisper.

"Anna…" She murmurs, half asleep. "Go back to sleep…"

"We can't," I answer, shaking her. "The sky's awake, so it's time for school."

Elsa grins, opening her eyes slightly. "The sky's awake?" She asks groggily. "What's that mean?"

"It's my way of saying the sun is rising," I reply.

Elsa laughs a little. "I like it."

"Thanks," I reply. "Are you ready?"

Elsa sighs. "As ready as I'll ever be."

I pat her arm. "I'll be right there for you. I promise."

"Come on, girls! Hurry or we'll miss the bus!" Mama calls, ushering us out of the door.

We walk-run to the bus stop. Mama kneels down, putting her hands on Elsa's shoulders. "Have you got everything?" She asks softly. "Folders? Binders? Pencils?"

Elsa nods.

"You and Anna will go to the office and get your schedule and locker, okay?" Mama tells her.

"Okay." Elsa says.

"Oh!" Mama pulls Elsa into a hug.

Just as they pull back, the bus arrives. The doors swing open and the bus driver watches us expectantly.

"Goodbye!" Mama calls.

Elsa lifts her foot to the step hesitantly. She takes a deep breath.

"Come on," the driver sighs.

"Hey!" I shout. "Don't-"

"Anna," Elsa interrupts. "It's okay."

With that, Elsa climbs up onto the bus, with me trailing behind her. We sit down in the front.

Elsa starts picking at her sweater nervously.

"So, Elsa," I say. "Do you have any more questions for me?"

"Are there any more kids on this bus?" Elsa asks, still picking away at her sweater.

"Of course," I answer. "We're just the first stop."

As if on cue, the bus makes another stop, causing a stampede of kids to thunder onto the bus, yelling things like, "The bus was so late!" And "Hey, you!" And "I hate Mondays!"

Elsa looks shocked. She mutters something that I can't hear over the noise.

"What?" I ask, plugging one ear.

"Nothing!" She says loudly, trying to be heard. "I was just talking to myself."

Elsa goes back to picking at her sweater, making a blue string grow looser and looser, growing off of her sweater like a vine.

"Hey Andersen!" The person behind us calls.

I turn around. "Hey me?"

"Yeah," He says. It's a boy from my math class, whose name I can't remember,leaning over the top of the bus seat. "Who's the blonde?"

Elsa's cheeks glow pink.

"This is Elsa," I smile. "My…"

I trail off, looking from Elsa and him.

I finish, "My sister."

I glance at Elsa anxiously, hoping that she's comfortable with me saying that. Her face wears a look of complete shock. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

"I didn't know you had a sister," He comments, interrupting the moment.

"We just adopted her," I tell him distractedly, still watching Elsa. Her face hasn't changed.

"Cool," He says. He turns to Elsa. "Are you from another country or something?"

Elsa doesn't reply. She just keeps that numb look of shock on her face. She's even stopped playing with her sweater.

"Um, hellooo?" He asks, waving his hand in front of her face. "Earth to Ella?"

"Elsa," She suddenly corrects him, snapping out of her trance. "I-It's Elsa, not Ella."

"Okay," He nods slowly. "Well, are you-"

"No, I'm not from another country," Elsa interrupts. "I'm from the orphanage downtown."

"Alright," He still looks slightly creeped out from Elsa's moment.

Elsa returns to picking at her sweater, looking away from the boy from math. He sits back down in his seat.

I sit there awkwardly, staring at her. I knew that I shouldn't have said that. I know she's not ready to call us family. She still calls Mama and Papa "Mr. and Mrs. Andersen." What made me think she'd be ready for me to say that we're sisters?

"Um, listen, Elsa," I start to apologize while scratching my neck. "I-"

The bus stops in front of our school, interrupting me. I sigh and stand up, trying to find an opening in the row of kids stampeding off of the bus. Of course, no one lets us through. Elsa and I are the last ones off.

As we walk to the office, I continue, "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by saying that we're sisters. I just…I don't know. I guess it just feels…right."

Elsa looks at her sneakers and mumbles a reply. "You're fine, Anna. I was the one who reacted so rudely." She silent for a moment. "It's just hard for me to accept and realize that I actually have a…family." The last word comes out quieter than a mouse.

I put my arm around her, but her shoulders tense up. I draw back. "I-I'm sorry; I was just trying to comfort you."

"I-It's okay," She replies hoarsely. "I, um, have to use the restroom."

Elsa runs into the nearest restroom, leaving me alone in the hallway.

You pushed it too far, Anna, I tell myself. Between hugging her and calling her your sister…but, she is my sister. My sister.

Elsa comes out, cheeks red. "Sorry. Let's get my schedule." She says, brushing past me and avoiding eye contact.

I want to apologize again, but I decide that it's best not to bring it up again. "Alright."

We head into the office. I walk up to the desk.

"What do you need?" The woman at the desk asks.

"Do you have a schedule for Elsa Andersen?" I respond with a question.

Elsa starts to look uneasy again.

The woman clacks on her keyboard a little bit and says, "Ah, here it is. Just let me print it…"

Within a minute, Elsa is handed her new schedule.

"Thank you," She smiles shyly.

I lead her out to the hall. "What's your locker number?"

"207." She answers.

I grin. "Mine is 202. We're not that far!"

"That's good," Elsa says, smiling her shy smile again.

I lead her to her locker and help her set up her lock.

"What class do you have first?" I ask as she puts her books inside of locker 207.

Elsa glances at her schedule. "History in room 304."

I lead her down the hall and toward room 304. "Well, here we are." I announce as we stand in front of the door.

"Thank you." Elsa says. She's about to go in, but she hesitates slightly.

"Wait," I tell her.

Elsa turns around, and before she can argue or run, I pull into a hug. "Good luck," I whisper.

When we let go, Elsa replies, "Thank you."

She disappers into the history room, and I sigh. Please be okay, Elsa.

I find it incredibly hard to focus during theatre. All I can think about is how Elsa is doing. I don't know many of the eighth graders, only the ones that are in theater (there is more than one grade in the theater class), but the ones I don't know seem really rude. I just want-

"Anna! Your line!"

"What?" I ask, pulling myself away from my thoughts.

"Your line," Our director says through clenched teeth.

"Oh, um, right," I fumble around for my script, trying to find the right page.

I earn glares from the whole cast. "Sorry," I grin half-heartedly.

As I search through the script, no doubt blushing, the door bursts open. I look up, blushing even more when I see who it is.

Hans Westerguard. Seventh grader, charming, smart, kind, and all together perfect.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Crockett," Hans apologizes as he sets down his backpack. "Traffic was just awful, but I went over my lines in the car."

"That's quite alright, Hans," Mrs. Crockett smiles.

Normally, Mrs. Crockett will hunt down anyone who is late to class like a lion to its prey, but not Hans. What did I tell you? Charming.

"Now, Anna," Mrs. Crockett continues, smile gone. "Your line?"

"Right…" I chuckle nervously. "My line is…"

"Page 24," A voice behind me whispers.

I turn to see Hans standing behind me. Hans talking to me! "Mrs. Crockett told me we were on page 24."

"Th-thanks," I stammer, most likely fire hydrant red now.

I stride into the lunch room, looking around. Kristoff isn't here. I sigh and sit down at our table. As I eat/wait for Kristoff, I pull out a piece of paper and start doodling a snowman.

Kristoff doesn't end up showing up. He must be absent. The bell rings and I go to my locker. As I set my books in there, I'm hit by a crumpled up ball of paper. I turn around and standing there is Wesley, the world's worst locker partner, seeing as he hates me.

"Hey, Anna," He smirks smugly. "Were you lonely without your boyfriend at lunch today?"

"Kristoff's not my boyfriend," I respond annoyedly.

"What's this?" He rips the snowman drawing from my hand.

"Give it back." I demand.

"A snowman?" He asks, holding it up to the light. "Ha! It's not even November, you dork!"

"I know, I'm a freak, just give it back!" I reach for it, even though there's no hope of me reaching it. Wesley is about a foot taller than me.

"Frosty the snowman was a jolly, happy soul!" Wesley sings mockingly. "You really have nothing better to do with your time than draw snowmen?"

I'm about to come up with a witty way to reply, but before I can, I'm interrupted by another voice. "Give it back to her!"

I look to see Elsa standing behind me, looking angry.

"Who the heck are you?" Wesley questions.

Instead of answering, Elsa repeats, "Give it back to her! You made her call herself a freak, and I won't tolerate that. Give it back and leave her alone!"

"Oh, you must be Anna's new sister, little orphan Annie!" Wesley taunts. "How cute! Anna needs her big sissy to protect her!"

Elsa's face flushes with anger. "Shut up!"

"You must be heartless to make fun of someone for being an orphan!" I growl.

By now, the other kids in the hall are all staring at us and whispering.

"Even cuter! They protect each other!" Wesley rolls his eyes. "The snowman and little orphan Annie."

Elsa balls her fists and starts walking toward him.

I put my hand on her arm. "Elsa, calm down."

"Calm down?!" Elsa questions incredulously. "How can I-"

"He's just a selfish idiot," I tell her. "Just ignore him."

"Anna, this kid is bullying you!" Elsa cries furiously. She turns back to Wesley. "You'd better leave my sister alone!"

Time stops. Elsa just called me her sister. She's comfortable calling me her sister. "…sister?" I whisper, frozen.

I snap back to reality when I see Elsa grab Wesley by the collar furiously. Wesley's smug smirk disappears and he pales.

"Elsa! Stop!" I shout, panicked.

Elsa ignores me and hisses, "Apologize to Anna, and don't you even think about talking to her again!"

"Woah…l-let go of me, you psycho!" Wesley sputters.

Elsa raises her fist.

"ELSA ANDERSEN!"

Our principal is gaping at her.

Elsa's anger vanishes and her eyes grow wide. She lets go of Wesley and backs away from him.

"Elsa…" I look at her in shock.

Elsa releases her fists and stares at her hands. She looks as if she is about to cry.

"Sh-she's insane!" Wesley stutters.

"Ms. Andersen," the principal scolds. "We do not tolerate violence at our school. Come with me."