Apparently I'm feeling ambitious, because I haven't written this much this quickly in a really long time. I guess that's what happens when you're still looking for a summer job. Oh well. I don't care. This is more fun than working anyway. Let me know what you guys think, I'm really excited to be back in the FanFiction game again!

We find a place in the stands, closer to the front than I feel comfortable with, but I don't say anything about it. Anna and Rapunzel seem to be in such a good mood, I refuse to be the one to ruin it just because of my own insecurity.

While my companions are busy talking to people that they know and pointing out people that they don't, I take some time to take stock of my surroundings.

The crowd around me seems to have been dunked in a large vat of green paint. Everywhere, in all directions, all I see is a sea of green. Green shirts, hats, pants, shoes, pom-poms, and a whole manner of green accessories. There's even a group of shirtless guys who have literally painted their bodies green. Wow. This school really does take their spirit seriously.

As I'm finishing up my hasty review of the crowd, there's an uproar as the players take the field. Immediately, the crowd around me surges up and chants begin; names of players that I don't know and school cheers that somehow are vaguely familiar fill the air. Anna was right, though, there's no way Jack will even notice me from his place on the field. No way in the world he'll even know that I'm here.

Then, an unmistakably familiar voice comes over the loudspeakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, your very own Burgess BEARS!"

I try to keep my surprise hidden. It's Hiccup.

I squint to see him, a slight figure up on the top floor of the grandstands on the other side of the field, but I know it's him. He seems to be in his element, too, announcing the players and throwing in small, sarcastic quips of his own that are definitely keeping the crowd entertained. Even some of the players are laughing by the time he's done announcing the team's starting lineup.

"Clara! It's Hiccup!" Anna says, turning to me with excitement written all over her face.

I just nod back enthusiastically. "I know!" I have to shout to be heard over the crowd. "I didn't know he was the announcer for these kind of things!"

Rapunzel, who was obviously listening to our conversation, leans back in her seat to see me. "We didn't know either. This is his first time!" She seems puzzled for a moment, then smacks Anna's shoulder. "You know what? He probably won the contest!"

"What contest?" I shout at her.

"You know! The contest they were having this week, to see which student had the most school spirit! The mascot contest!"

"Hiccup won a mascot contest?" I ask incredulously.

"Apparently so," Anna responds. "How else would he be up there announcing right now?"

I just shrug. I never thought he would be confident enough to do something like this. I feel a warm sensation creeping into my chest, and I realize that it's pride. Pride for my so-often awkward friend. You go, Hiccup. Enjoy this moment.

With only a few minutes to go before the game starts, the crowd begins to hush in ready anticipation, although most viewers remain standing. I can hear a few calls of "Go Bears!" tear through the blanket of stillness that seems to be settling over the crowd, and I shiver. Just as the referee blows the starting whistle, it hits me that I don't know Jack's jersey number…or Flynn's, either, for that matter.

"Rapunzel! Pssst!" I whisper

"Yeah?" she asks, her eyes still glued to the field.

"What's Flynn's number? And Jack's?"

This time she does look at me, but it's only a fleeting glance before a cheer from the crowd forces her to move her attention back to the game. "Flynn is 20. Jack is 26."

I nod, even though she's not looking at me. "Great. Thanks!"

We sit and watch the game for a while without talking to each other. Anna and Rapunzel occasionally yell words of encouragement out to the players – especially Flynn – or join in on school chants, but I just sit in silence and watch. As I do, the quarterback shuffles back a few steps and brings his arm back to throw a long pass. I narrow my eyes at him. I think that's Flynn. The opposing team's players respond to his actions by sending several of their guys sprinting down the field, following the wide receivers in green.

Just when I think he's going to throw the ball, a Burgess player speeds around behind Flynn and snatches the ball right out of his hand, then takes off running like a demon down the field. The crowd around me collectively gasps, which makes me think that this was not a planned maneuver. As he races down the field, I try to catch his number, but he's moving too quickly for me to make it out.

"Come on, come on," I hear Anna whispering under her breath. Rapunzel seems too entranced to do anything besides stare.

That couldn't be Jack, could it? I wonder. The players on the sidelines are milling about excitedly, which makes it difficult to catch their numbers, but I manage to find 26 standing at the very edge of the group, clenching his fists. He looks like he wants to beat up the runner.

The stadium erupts into cheers and I look back up at the field, where the Burgess player has just scored a touchdown. His teammates jogging back with him from the end zone are slapping him on the back, with smiles plastered to their faces, but Flynn appears to be upset. He stalks back to the sidelines, and I can hear Rapunzel say, "Uh oh," right before her boyfriend's palms connect with the other boy's chest, shoving him to the ground.

The player scrambles quickly to his feet and makes an attempt to hit back, but Flynn neatly sidesteps the blow and pushes him again, knocking him into another group of players, probably freshmen, by their short statures. By this time, they've caught the attention of the coach and the referee. I can hear about five different voices yelling, but I can't make out what they're saying, and I don't even bother to. It's obvious that Flynn is upset over the other player's actions, even if he did score a touchdown.

Jack suddenly appears in front of Flynn, holding onto his shoulder pads to keep him from going after the other player again, and eventually forcing him to sit down. When he does, the tension on the sidelines visibly lessens, although from the glances some of the players are throwing his way, I don't think it's quite over yet.

"What just happened?" I ask, breaking the silence we've been standing in.

Anna just shrugs, seemingly unwilling to answer. But after a few seconds of fuming, Rapunzel turns to me. "Flynn got mad because that stupid glory-hog didn't stick to the plan."

"Well, yeah, I saw that part." I add timidly, "Does that mean Flynn is kicked out of the game?"

My cousin shakes her head vehemently. "Oh, not at all. Everyone knows that emotions tend to run high at games. He'll just take some time to cool off and then he'll be back on the field, trust me."

"Who's the stupid glory-hog?" I ask, and immediately I know that I've crossed into uncertain territory.

"His name is Hans Westergard," Rapunzel replies, shooting a small glance at Anna before continuing. "He's new this year to Burgess High. From what I hear, he's from some fancy private school, and no one really knows why he left, but now he's here." She sounds like she wants to add another insult to the end of her last sentence, but she manages to keep it to herself.

Throughout all of this, Anna's just been twisting the sleeve of her jacket around, and around, and around, until all the little corkscrews melt together into one continuous coil. I want to know what's bothering her, but for some reason I hesitate to bring it up right now. It'll have to wait until later.

"Anyone want anything from the concession stand?" I say, just to lighten the mood. "My treat!"

A few minutes later, I find myself walking alone through a crowd of people, trying to keep Anna's and Rapunzel's orders straight in my head. Rapunzel wants popcorn and a bar of cherry taffy. Anna wants as much chocolate as I can get my hands on. I want….well, I'm not sure what I want. I'll figure it out.

I'm concentrating so hard on making it to the stand without forgetting anything that I don't notice the hand on my shoulder until it's forced me to a stop. "Clara, I called your name several times and you didn't stop. Were you ignoring me?"

"Huh?" I ask in a panicked voice, looking up into the stern eyes of Mrs. Frost. "Oh no, of course not! I was concentrating on remembering my friends' orders for the concession stand, and-" I'm cut off when she starts laughing.

"Don't worry, dear. I was just joking," she says, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes. "I just wanted to say hello, and I was wondering how the song writing is going with Jack. He never tells me anything."

The song writing? Jack didn't tell her that we're not partners anymore? I hide my confusion and try to answer as best I can. "Well, you know, it's slow going. We're both kind of picky about the music, but we'll get there in the end," I say with a smile, then add under my breath, "hopefully."

She nods thoughtfully, then leans in close to my ear. "Do me a favor, sweetie, and keep an eye on him. He's been worrying me lately, but he won't tell me what's bothering him. Maybe you can get it out of him."

What's bothering him is me! I'm the problem! Can't you see, Mrs. Frost? Your son hates me. You hate me too. Sophie probably hates me. I'M ELSA. The urge to tear at my hair and scream to the skies comes over me, but instead I just nod at her. "I'll do whatever I can, Mrs. Frost."

She smiles and gives me a small hug. "I know you will, Clara. Thank you."

Once she releases me, I take the opportunity to melt back into the crowd, since we somehow ended up very close to the sidelines during our little chat. But when I turn around to take one more look at the action on the field, a player's raised hand stops me. He's waving at me, I realize, then I look at the number on his chest. 26. Crap.

As I watch, he lowers his hand and beckons at me. He wants me to go over there? What's going on? I glance to my right and left to see if he's gesturing to someone else, but there's no one there. He beckons again, this time a little impatiently, so I hurry over to the fence that divides the field from the rest of the stadium. What could Jack possibly want?

I'm sure my eyes are as big as saucers as he approaches, but he doesn't acknowledge it. His uniform looks a little worn out, but I guess that's common for football players. He takes his helmet off as he walks, revealing dark brown hair that's been plastered to his head with sweat. How does he still look fantastic? "Hi," I say in a shaky voice.

"Hey," comes his cool answer. We just stare at each other for a little while, and I take our silence to mean that I can leave, but before I can make my escape attempt, he blurts out, "What was my mom talking to you about?"

"Oh." That's not the question I was expecting. "She wanted to know how the music thing is going." And before I can stop myself, I ask, "Why haven't you told her that we're not working together anymore?"

He shrugs. "It's none of her business."

"But she's your mom."

He just shakes his head at me. "Listen," he pauses, then adds, "Clara," and his eyes seem to get a little spark in them when he says my fake name. "My mom doesn't have to know that we're not working together. Just let her believe that. I know it makes her feel better. So, just, you know, pretend that we are, okay?"

I'm shocked. "You want me to lie to your mom?"

He shrugs. "Why not? I'm sure you'll be great at it."

It's like a slap in the face. I take a step away from him, and I can see from his face that the words were accidental, but he can't take them back. I harden my features. Don't let him see that he hurt you. "Okay, yeah, sure. Whatever, Jack."

He holds his arms out in an attempt to pacify me. "Whoa whoa, okay, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. It's just hard for me."

I cross my arms. "Just because it's hard doesn't mean it gives you the right to act like a jerk." I'm suddenly in his face, pointing a finger at his chest as I speak. "It's hard for me, too, Jack. Did you ever stop to think about that? It's hard for me too!" And with that, I turn around and walk away from him. I'm about to step back into the crowd when a sharp "Hey!" causes me to turn again.

"What?" I call back. There's no way I'm going back over there.

"Look out for your sister around that guy. He's a real piece of work." He seems to mean it sincerely, but I have no idea what he's talking about.

"Huh?" I ask, and I'm sure he can recognize the confusion on my face.

"Your sister. Keep an eye out for her. Her boyfriend's a creep."

"What boyfriend?"

He seems surprised. "Hans."

"Anna is dating Hans? He's so much older than her!"

Jack just gives me a one-shouldered shrug, as if to say, "It's not my problem." How helpful.

"Great. Thanks for the advice," I say, then turn my back on him again and leave before he can say anything else. I'm going to have to talk to Anna when I get home.