Alright people, here it is. I tried to answer some questions that you all have voiced in the reviews, and please keep asking questions! It's really helpful for me. I'm really excited about where this thing is going. EEEEEEEEEEEE. Also, I'm considering writing some chapters from Jack's POV, but I can't decide, so please let me know in comments/reviews/whatever what you think about that idea. I will take your opinions into account - really, you guys will be deciding for me - so if you feel strongly about this, let me know. Seriously. Enjoy!

"You what?" I yelp. I'm pretty sure my voice just rose an octave in about three seconds, and my initial panic is replaced with a deep anger that I didn't know existed until this moment.

"I know," she says again, in her annoyingly calm voice that just increases my fury.

"What do you mean you know?" I demand.

"I helped set up the pairings for the exchange. As a member of the committee that organized the project, I had a say in the decision-making process." She's speaking as simply as if she were telling me the time or how the weather is outside.

I make an outraged spluttering sound. "How could you, mom? You're the one that told me it would be best if I moved and left Jack and my friends and you guys alone, and now you're forcing us back together? What the hell?"

"Elsa," she says sharply, "language."

"Explain."

She sighs into the receiver. I can imagine her at this moment, leaning against the kitchen counter, idly doodling on a corner of the newspaper as she talks to me. The mental picture upsets me for some reason. She's acting like this isn't the earth-shattering event that I think it is.

"Elsa, everything that I've ever done for you I have done with your best interests at heart. I just want you to know that before I go any further, okay?"

"Fine. Now tell me." I don't want to hear her excuses. I want answers.

"I need you to calm down. And don't interrupt me, no matter how much you want to."

I don't respond, and after a moment of silence, with only the sound of the telephone connection faintly crackling in my ear, she continues. "Alright. First, and your father will say the same thing if you ask him, I thought you were lonely. Every time I talk to you on the phone, you never mention friends. You never go out, never invite anyone over, it's not healthy, my dear. You need to have friends your age, even if they aren't as close as the ones you left behind, it's not good to shut people out."

I can feel the words of denial and outrage forcing their way up my throat, but I hold them in my mouth, don't let them out. You told me it would be for the best not to get too close to anyone. You're part of the reason this all happened in the first place. It's not my fault that I'm stuck by myself in this God-forsaken city…

"…understand that you might be worried about Jack's mother, as well. In the past two years, she has really mellowed out. She never brought up the incident on the pond after a few months, and she seems to just be in a better place than she was back then. She even changed back to her maiden name, Frost, instead of using Overland like she was before, even after the divorce. I'm sure you noticed that Jack uses the last name Frost now as well?"

I didn't actually, but now that I think about it, why didn't I notice something as major as that? Maybe it was just the shock of seeing Jack again after two years, but I'm slightly ashamed of myself for not realizing that his name was different. I was fixated on the hair. You can only concentrate on so many things at once.

She doesn't wait for me to respond, just jumps back in to her explanation. "I haven't told her that you and Jack are partners, but I honestly don't think that she would be upset about it. Like I said, she's different. Happier, less prone to hold grudges and lose her temper. I've known Mrs. Frost for a long time, Elsa, I can tell she's changed. And I think that if she knew you two were working together, she would be grateful for it."

"What do you mean?"

My mom doesn't address the fact that I just interrupted her, but answers my question all the same. "Jack's struggled since you went away. Anna and Rapunzel have been keeping your father and I up to date on what goes on at school since you left, and according to them he's had a tough time with some of the other high schoolers. You probably also noticed that his hair was different?"

"That I did."

"He dyed it about a year ago. Apparently one of the things he was being bullied about was his white hair, so he finally just caved and got rid of it. I don't know how long he's going to keep it up for, but it seems that when his hair color changed, he himself changed as well."

"Jack's changed? How? He seemed the same to me."

"Having a five minute conversation with someone you haven't seen in two years when they don't even know who they're talking to does not tell you anything about a person, Elsa. He's become popular, which isn't necessarily good or bad, but he also doesn't really hang out with your group of friends anymore. He's gotten into some trouble, too. Nothing too serious or anything, but he is a bit of a troublemaker, and not in the innocent way that you guys were as kids. I would give you details, but I don't know them. Anna isn't privy to all the rumors and information that goes through that school since she's just a freshman, so that's all I know for sure."

"And you think he started doing all of this because I wasn't there?"

"I do."

"But why?"

"Elsa, you were his rock. The one thing that was always there, and then you were gone too. Can you imagine how that would make you feel?"

"I don't have to imagine, mom." It's a simple statement, but the moment it leaves my mouth I feel like it's an accusation, as well.

"Yes, well…" she trails off for a moment. "You didn't go crazy, did you? You became a nice, responsible young woman-"

"With no friends and nothing to make me interesting or unique," I finish for her. "Let's not try to ignore the fact that without you and dad, Anna and Jack, Rapunzel and Hiccup and Flynn and Merida, I have become a very boring non-individual."

"Elsa." She says my name gently, in an almost-whisper, and I know she's going to try to deny what I just said.

"Mom." I say matter-of-factly.

"Well, just know I disagree with you, but I'm not going to argue with you right now."

What a shame. I was looking forward to a good argument. "So you think it's okay that we're partners? What if he recognizes me, mom? What if he finds out? How am I going to keep this from him? How can I lie to my best friend?"

"You don't have to lie, Elsa. Tell him the truth, or parts of it. And yes, I do think it's okay. You don't realize how much you've changed over two years, sweetie. Angie sent me a picture of you a few weeks ago, and if I hadn't known that it was you, I wouldn't have recognized you. Anna saw it too, and then asked me who it was and why Aunt Angie had sent it to me. Your hair is different, your eyes are different, you've grown up. Puberty does that to people. There's no chance that Jack will recognize you unless you want him to."

I expect to feel relief at her words, but instead I just feel sad. Anna didn't recognize me. My little sister doesn't know me anymore. Neither does Jack.

I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. The spiderwebbed pattern that stretches from wall to wall is mesmerizing to me. I have spent many late nights inspecting the ceiling and finding a myriad of shapes, designs, and faces in the endlessly changing arrangement of lines. "Mom, I'm still not totally sure about this, but I'll give it a go."

I can hear the smile in her voice as she replies. "That's my girl."

"And…" I stop. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For giving me a second chance. With Jack. You're right, I am lonely, and I miss him – and all of you guys – with all of my heart."

"I know you do, my dear. We all miss you too. Things will change, Elsa, and someday you'll be able to come back home. Hopefully, that time will come sooner than we think, but this is an important first step."

After chatting for a little longer about inconsequential things – Anna's various sporting events and her other antics that make life interesting for my parents – we hang up. As soon as I put down the phone it dings again, the short two-note sound that means I have a text message. I ignore it for the time being and pull out my notebook, where I've systematically collected quotes and basically anything having to do with words that has caught my eye over the past two years. There's a certain poem I'm looking for.

If
Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make an allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

I finish reading and glance over at my phone again. The screen is dark, but a green light keeps flashing at the top, indicating the unread message that I've ignored. I reach over and scoop up the device, turning the screen back on with a click of a button and opening the message. I stare at the words and then smile, quickly typing a response and turning back to the words on the page in front of me.

Hey partner. Nice talking to ya, I'm looking forward to working with you for the next year! –Jack

The feeling is mutual! Talk to you soon -Clara