Look who's back. Back again. 94monkeystogo is back. Tell a friend.

Let me just start by saying this: "Hello." Now that that's out of the way, I must apologize for taking MONTHS to update this story. This school year has been absurdly busy. Well, here's the next chapter. As always, let me know what you think, and keep reviewing and following. Seriously, the only reason I keep doing this is because you all give me feedback. That, and I'm trying to work on actually finishing the things that I start, and I've come too far to back out now. Until next chapter, farewell my minions!

"Call me as soon as you get into town," Tooth's eager voice instructs, "and I'll tell you whether you should come to my house or go directly to the stadium. As soon as you pull in, okay? One more time, for good measure. Elsa Winters, you better call me as soon as humanly possibly the instant you take the Arendelle exit. I'll see you soon!"

I laugh before clicking the end call button to my voicemail. Tooth left me four messages in the past hour or so, all of them about what to do when I finally reach Arendelle. It's weird to be coming back to the place where I really was Clara…it feels like I was just living here, when in reality, it's been almost four months since I moved away. Four months…that's one fourth of a year since the time I was happy with Frank and Angie, since the time that Jack didn't know who I was.

As I pull in, I can't decide whether the emotion I'm feeling seeing the "Welcome to Arendelle" sign is happiness, sadness, or a strange sense of nostalgia. Maybe it's all three.

While I'm still wrestling with these conflicting emotions, my cell phone rings. After a quick glance at the caller ID – it's Tooth, shocking, I know – I answer.

"Elsa," comes her mock stern voice, "have you gotten in yet?"

"Uh, this is getting a little creepy, Tooth. I just passed the Welcome Sign."

"And when exactly where you planning on calling me?"

I shrug, even though she can't see me. "Oh, I dunno, maybe in an hour or two. You didn't really give me any specific instructions to follow or anything, so I thought I'd just wing it and see what happens."

Her indignant spluttering almost makes me laugh, but laughing is a distraction when I'm driving a metal death trap, so I smother the urge and keep my eyes on the road. "I left you four messages! Did you not get any of them?"

"Messages? Really?"

"Yeah, just over an hour ago. I can't believe you didn't notice that I kept calling."

"Tooth, I don't answer the phone when I'm driving on the Interstate. You should know that by now, sheesh."

"But…wait a second, I know that voice. You're using your sneaky voice."

"I don't know what you mean," I say innocently.

"You jerk. You got my messages, didn't you?"

Now I have to laugh, just a short bark. "Of course I did, you maniac. You only left me three thousand of them."

"Okay, it was four, first of all. And even with my best efforts, you still manage not to call me when you get into town."

"I would've if you'd given me a chance to!"

"Excuses will get you nowhere," Tooth says condescendingly. "Anyway, just come straight to the stadium, okay? I'll meet you at the admissions gate."

"Roger that. I'll see you soon." I quickly get off the phone and toss it on the seat beside me, returning my right hand to the wheel in time to make a questionable two-handed turn. Thank God there aren't any cops around, because that little stunt would probably have gotten me a warning.

Unfortunately, Arendelle High's football stadium is all the way on the other side of town from where the Interstate passes by, so I know I still have at least ten minutes of driving before I arrive. Ten minutes to reacquaint myself with my old "hometown." Ten minutes to mourn my second set of parents. Just thinking about them, I can feel my initial excitement start to ebb. It's like when you receive good news, but you know that there's going to be a "but…" coming right after it. "Good news! You've been awarded a brand new state of the art indoor home theater, but…you can never leave your house again for the rest of your life."

My driving shifts to auto-pilot as I get lost in my own thoughts. By the time I pull my car into the parking lot of my old high school, I have no conscious memory of making all the turns and signals necessary to navigate my way across town. I can see Tooth waiting for me at the gate, decked out in the Arendelle colors of deep purple and white, and all my darker thoughts are swept away. It's impossible to be unhappy around Tooth; even her appearance is bright and happy. Her hair is shorter than it was the last time I saw her, but there are still the familiar streaks of color and the feathers that I remember. Those, plus her unmistakable purple lenses, ensure that she stands out in the best possible way.

I park my car as quickly as I can and scramble out into the crisp air, impatient to be reunited with the first person to embrace my Clara persona and the first I trusted enough to share my secret with. My sneakers pound out a quick rhythm as I half walk, half run to her. I can see her searching the parking lot, and I know the exact second that she sees me, because she does a dramatic double-take and then launches herself in my direction. People heading towards the gate have to move quickly out of her path as she races towards me.

"Hi Clara!" she squeals when we collide in a hug. I'm being crushed too tightly to respond right away, so I wait until we're finished hugging to attempt any words.

"It's so good to see you, Tooth," I say, and then for some reason, I'm crying. "So good to see you."

"Aw, come on now, you know I'm a sympathetic crier. If you keep crying, then I'll…" she stops and then bursts into tears herself. "I missed you Clara."

Before the next wave of tears can start, however, a laugh erupts from my throat. And then I'm laughing like a maniac. "Look at us, Tooth, it hasn't even been a minute and we're already falling apart."

"I know," she says, wiping at her eyes, "we're pathetic."

Now, I start to notice the strange looks and the wide berth that passersby are giving us. I guess it's not very common to see two teenage girls laughing and crying at the same time in a parking lot. Who knew?

Tooth glances around, too, and must notice the same thing I did, because she snatches my hand and pulls me toward the gate. It's strange to be back in Arendelle, going to football game. All of the school's supporters are decked out in purple, obviously, and it makes me feel like a fish out of water. Before I left Burgess, I spent almost thirty minutes agonizing over what color I should wear to the game. Do I wear purple, to support Tooth's cheerleading and Bunny and North's football playing? Or do I wear green to support Anna, Jack, and Flynn? Decisions, decisions. My eventual solution was to support…neither. I look down at my black shirt and quirk my lips at it. Now I can't be claimed by either school.

Tooth's gaze follows my eyes down to my shirt, and she laughs. "Nice color choice. Very ambiguous."

"That's what I was going for!" I announce proudly.

She just gives me a quiet smile, and then turns to scan the crowd. "So, you won't get to see North and Bunny officially until after the game, but they're out on the field doing warm ups right now, see?" She points out two figures out on the field, one of whom I would recognize anywhere. There's no way that North could blend in with the average population. He's too big. I note his number, 33, before my attention is captured by another figure, number 25. Tall and slender, and moving like a gymnast. That's Bunny. It's weird to see them out on the field. I never went to football games back when I lived here, it wasn't really my thing. Still isn't, really.

"Where's Sandy?" I ask. My eyes continue to scan the field, although I know I won't find him there. He wasn't much of an athlete.

"He's with the marching band. They'll be sitting by the student section, and they'll perform at halftime. But the band members are allowed to socialize between songs, so you can go make yourself comfortable over there next to him. I have to go join the cheer squad down in front of the bleachers now. I'll see you after the game!" She beams at me, and I can see the enthusiasm in her eyes. It's catchy, that kind of pure excitement.

"Sounds great, Tooth. Have fun, I'll just meet you right here after the game."

"Perfect. Bye!" She bounds away, and watching her leave, I know exactly why she's the cheerleading captain. Just by being around her for the past ten minutes, I feel more school-spirited than I have in the last 17 years of my life.

I make my way up to the stands and scan the crowd for Sandy's head of golden hair at the same time. He's not difficult to spot. Like most of my Arendelle friends, he's very conspicuous. Strange, if you think about it, that the people I chose to associate with in my Clara persona were such individuals.

"Sandy!" I call out, waving my hands to catch his attention. He's sitting with the other trumpets, further back in the stands, and he waves vigorously and points to the bench next to him, indicating that he saved it for me. Never one to talk unnecessarily, he just pulls me into a hug the second I'm close enough, and I can feel my eyes starting to well up again. I don't know why I'm so emotional all of a sudden.

He suddenly pulls back and looks up into my face, noting my expression with his intelligent eyes. I've never met anyone who is so attuned into the feelings of others as Sandy is. And he looks just the way I remember him. He taps a finger twice against his chest, right above his heart, and gives me a wide smile. I smile back. Being with him is so peaceful. I know that I won't have to run away from this game, with such a calming person beside me.

We take our seats. I'm not really in the mood to chatter, which I know Sandy wouldn't mind, but I keep my words to myself. The silence isn't awkward, it's natural. The players on the field seem to be pulling back to their respective sidelines, so there must be only a few minutes left before the game starts. My heart swells with anticipation. This will be interesting, I think to myself as I catch a glimpse of Jack's 26 through the cluster of green uniforms and shoulder pads. My heart starts to pound.

As I settle back to watch, a rustle catches my attention, and a figure seats itself next to me.

"Hi Clara, long time no see." The voice, oily and smooth, makes me cringe. My arms instinctively clench close to my sides, as if that would keep him from getting any closer to me.

Pitch cocks his head to the side as he looks at me, amusement clear in his expression and his predatory eyes. "Look at that," he says, noting the color I'm wearing, "we match."