"Do you want to go ice skating?" Elsa asked, easing the tension. "I've made a rink."
Jack looked around, seeing the entire castle made of ice. "Was that really necessary? I mean, the whole floor is made of ice, isn't it?"
Elsa stopped, "I hadn't thought of that. Well, do you want to ice skate?"
"Sure," Jack sighed.
They both stood and turned their chairs into piles of snow. Ice skates were formed around their feet, and off they went. All over the floor, skating circles and figure eights around each other.
Elsa watched Jack soar through the air with speed and agility. He was thin and his snowy hair was tousled by the gusts of wind his body made, whizzing past her. And he was handsome. She saw the gleam in his eyes, the happiness that lived in those blues. Jack was like no one she had ever met. Though Elsa was a sweet child, the boys her age never fully understood her powers. And after her incident, she barely communicated with anyone, much less boys. But Jack understood. Jack accepted her for everything she was.
She regained her breath, not realizing she had lost it, and smiled a sweet smile at Jack. She tried to convey everything she was feeling through her face, not knowing if she was succeeding.
Jack spun around from the other side of the room and saw Elsa smiling at him. More than that, though, he saw what was underneath her smile. He saw what was happening.
Oh no.
Jack shot back a quick, half-hearted smile as a response, and then quickly averted Elsa's eyes.
This can't happen. And yet, it has. How am I supposed to act now? I can't just be nice, she'll keep looking at me like that.
Jack looked over his shoulder to see if she was still looking at him. She wasn't. She was skating around, not directing anything towards him. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Catch me!"
Elsa's voice sent Jack into a state of panic. He looked back to see her flying through the air, towards him. Elsa was in the middle of a flying spin, landing in Jack's hands. He set her back down and began to skate away.
"What's your favorite color?" Elsa asked.
An innocent question, Jack found it harmless to reply. "Red," he said, emotionless.
"Do you want to guess mine?" Elsa asked another question, excited to have someone to talk to after years of solitude.
Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, thankful she couldn't see him. "Sure." Might as well humor her.
"Okay!" Elsa responded positively, glad that the conversation was going so well.
"Pink," Jack said, the color the first to fly out of his mouth.
"No."
"Blue."
"Nope," Elsa smiled playfully to herself.
Jack thought for a minute. "Green."
"Nope."
Jack sighed, "Yellow."
"No!"
"I give up then." Jack was tired of guessing.
"It's purple!" Elsa smiled. Jack could hear it in her voice.
"Good for you," he said, and continued to skate away. He reached the edge of the room and began to unlace his skates. He was done for the day. Elsa quickly skated towards him, the wall stopping her.
"Are we done?"
"I am," Jack avoided her eyes again.
"Oh," Elsa said. "Okay."
She began to unlace her skates too, leaning down so their heads were close in proximity. "So what's your family like? Siblings or anything?"
At the word "siblings," Jack was drawn back into his past. To that day. To the incident.
"Jack I'm scared."
Jack smiled and urged his sister onto the ice, "Come on, it's safe." Step by step she inched towards him. He grinned encouragingly, only to have a ghastly realization.
He was sinking.
He heard the crack of the ice beneath him, leaving him milliseconds to push his sister away to the thicker ice.
He was cold.
"Jack! Jack?!"
He could hear his sister screaming and crying out for him. His eyes opened and he could see her outline through the ice that separated them. He wondered if she could see him. He banged his fist against the ice, but it began to crack. If he were to hit it again, it would break, and his sister would fall in with him.
She didn't see him fall. Landing on her side, she opened her eyes, but couldn't see Jack anymore. He wasn't anywhere.
She screamed.
Crawling on all fours back to the snowbank, she sat there, staring at the icy hole her brother had left. She curled herself up and cried, hoping by some miracle, Jack would come back up. He would be okay. He was always playing pranks like that on her, pretending to catch some "illness" or "cutting off" his thumb, just to hear her squeal in horror. But he was always okay in the end. He would rub the paint off his face, or unfold his thumb from his palm, smiling at her, saying that it was just a game. He was always okay in the end.
"Jack?"
He was always okay.
"I don't know anymore," Jack spat out, dropping his first skate to the ground.
Elsa paused, not expecting such a cold response. "Oh, I'm sorry."
"No, it's," Jack bent down again and began unlacing his other skate. "It's okay."
There was a pause. Jack felt he should explain a bit. He stood up and looked Elsa in the eyes. "I had a little sister, and parents. All the normal stuff."
"But?" Elsa knew there was more.
"I'd rather," Jack paused. "I'd rather not talk about it. If that's okay."
"No, it's fine. My parents are dead, too."
"I never said they were dead."
Elsa looked straight into Jack's eyes. "I can see it in your face, Jack. Anna's eyes look just like yours do. It's okay." She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. Not a romantic smile, but a smile of a kindred spirit. A sad smile.
There had been no casket since they never found his body. Jack had watched his own service. He had seen his parents standing at his headstone, his mother drying her eyes on his father, his sister huddled between them. He had seen the rest of the community surrounding his family, ready to lend a helping hand. He had watched his family walk home. Through the window, he had seen them sitting around the fire, warming themselves in silence. They skipped dinner.
They couldn't see him.
He tapped on the glass. He waved his hands up and down. He even yelled. But his parents didn't even turn their heads. His sister had fallen asleep in their father's lap. He touched the glass, a layer of ice forming. Surely they will notice that, he thought. But no.
His parents were too grown up to see their son.
They didn't see him looking through the window.
They didn't see him cry out for his sister.
They couldn't see him.