Broken and Beloved (2)
Keeping In Touch

Elsa worked late into the night as soon as she and Anna got home.

Both of them attended colleges not far from their house, so they commuted and saw no need to live in dorms.

Elsa's room was the epitome of expression without forsaking tidiness. Everything from her bed to the walls had varying shades of blue: her favorite color. Books for current pleasure reading on the nightstand was kept to her left, the wheelchair to her right. In addition to the shelves packed with books and magazines, Elsa had a number of small hand weights for casual exercise. Snowflake decorations of various forms and sizes adorned her shelves and walls, making her love for winter quite clear. Her room had no desk. She always did her schoolwork over an adjustable bed table. High on the shelves and almost out of sight were numerous figure skating awards. Bittersweet reminders of Elsa's endeavors before tragedy struck.

Elsa typed away on her laptop, working on the draft of her thesis paper. She ate from a cup of yogurt in slow spoonfuls as she pored over a thick book on Greek philosophy. Other books were spread open and littered all over her bed, some resting on her lap. Industrial design, applied physics, linear programming, and art history were just a few things that filled her with passion and gave her preparation for a job.

Vivaldi's "Winter" played softly through her earbuds. She usually had her favorite song on repeat to give her inspiration while she worked. But Elsa couldn't make herself focus tonight. She muted the music on her phone. A worried frown tugged at the corners of her lips. Thoughts of Pitch, and how much bolder he had become in his attacks, greatly troubled her. A shiver ran down her spine. Most of it, anyway.

'How much longer can this go on? Will he stop at nothing to see me suffer? Will he finally stop once I break?'

She had to close her eyes and lean back against the copious amount of pillows propped in her bed. She took deep, slow breaths through her parted lips, immersing herself in the comfortable bed and trying to keep calm.

Ultimately, thinking of Jack helped her overcome the fear and anxiety taking root in her heart. Elsa smiled, remembering how quick and defensive he had been against the Nightmare. She never told anyone about Pitch, not even Anna. There was something undoubtedly intriguing about him…maybe even magical. It would be immensely gratifying to find that she and Pitch weren't the only "odd" ones out there.

"Elsa? You doing all right?"

Anna's voice brought her back. "Yeah, just busy as usual." Elsa leaned forward to type out a sentence she had left unfinished.

Anna came in with her pajamas, and a towel around her neck to dry her wet hair. She wished she had the discipline to keep her own floor as bare and spotless as Elsa's. Not that Elsa really had a choice in that, anyway. She'd have a hard time moving her chair through knick-knacks strewn all over the floor. Which was why Anna's room was practically off-limits to Elsa.

If she wanted to call Anna for anything she had to stay at the threshold, like standing behind yellow tape blocking a gruesome crime scene.

Anna gently massaged her sister's shoulders. "Had a rough day, huh?"

Elsa nodded, but didn't elaborate. She flashed Anna a little grateful smile.

Anna peered over Elsa's shoulder to look at what she had been reading. "'Music of the Spheres?' What does that have to do with architecture?"

"It has a lot to do with it. You know Pythagoras?"

"Uh...he's the guy who came up with some rule about right triangles...?"

"Well, he came up with a lot of other theories too. The Music of the Spheres is one of them." Elsa paused to collect herself before explaining further: "It's a classical Greek concept that postulates an ancient model of the universe, attempting to explain the 'essence' of harmony and proportions. The heavenly bodies, or planets, are said to 'make music' when they revolve in perfect orbits and within perfect distance from each other. This idea applies to a lot of things: intervals in music, the golden ratio in math and art." A smile spread on Elsa's face. "I could go on and on about how it applies to the geometry and structure in architecture. I'm trying to write a paper on why conformity to order and beauty is important, especially in this age of postmodernism. Mentioning the Music of the Spheres is just one point in my argument."

Elsa looked up to see her sister's eyes glazed over in mixed awe and incomprehension. Anna ended her unofficial massage session with a fond pat on Elsa's back. "And that's why you're at Penn."

That made Elsa chuckle. Anna was far from stupid, but she wasn't the studious or bookish type like her sister. Anna made her way out of the bedroom, but not before kissing her sister goodnight and taking her finished cup of yogurt to throw away.

Anna turned at the door. "Get some sleep tonight, okay? It's getting late. The paper can wait, and I'm sure you'll ace it."

Elsa returned her fond smile. "Thanks. Good night, Anna." She closed her laptop and pulled the blankets up to her chin, but she did not turn off the light. For most people, darkness lulled them to sleep. But for Elsa, it only made her think of Pitch, his power, and his threats. She couldn't get any rest thinking of that. She didn't fear the dark itself, only what it represented. Since coming to college and on the day she met Pitch, he made it no secret what he could do to make her life a living nightmare.

She used to think that bullies were a thing of grade schools, high schools, but certainly not college. She had done nothing to justify Pitch's malice and envy. Why at her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? These questions frustrated her to no end, and often kept her up at night. Pitch and his Nightmares pursued her even in her dreams. Especially in her dreams. When she wasn't having terrible recollections of the accident, she ran through an endless tunnel in vain to escape the shadows that clawed at her. Her legs would always fail, becoming useless flesh that dragged her down.

Elsa thought she was going to drown in her own nightmare when a pair of strong arms pulled her up.

"Jack!" she gasped.

In the overwhelming blackness, and perhaps looking through eyes blurred with her tears, his white hair and gentle smile seemed to glow. "Come on, Elsa," he murmured. "You can do it."

She shook her head in despair. "No, I can't. They always get me. I can't outrun them."

"Don't worry. I'll carry you."

Elsa felt safe in his arms, and she slipped into a deep sleep surrounded by light, rather than by darkness.

No one had nodded off to sleep while Jack shared his story. Sandy in particular looked quite disturbed when Jack mentioned Pitch Black. But their squat, sand-haired friend quickly recovered and beckoned Jack to continue talking about Elsa.

When Jack finished, Bunny waggled an eyebrow. "You got her number, mate?"

The young man hesitated, then he flushed with embarrassment. "I...I totally forgot to ask her," he sputtered.

North chuckled. "No worries, lad...just talk to Tooth. She takes some classes at Penn. Maybe she can find Elsa for you."

Jack brightened. "Good idea."

Tooth was one of the few to take the coordinated Bachelor of Fine Arts program, which combined studio art training at PAFA with a liberal arts education at the University of Pennsylvania. There was a good chance that Tooth could run into Elsa somewhere on campus.

Jack stretched out on his bed and yawned. "I'm gonna call Tooth first thing in the morning. Maybe Elsa and I can go out for lunch. Get to know each other better."

He heard Bunny call out in a childish, singsong voice in the dark: "Ooooh, Jack's got a daaaate."

"…Can it, Kangaroo."

Few things were better than waking up to Anna's home-made breakfast in the morning.

Elsa heard the sizzling pan and Anna moving about in the kitchen. Her younger sister was singing while she cooked, probably something for Glee Club. Elsa wished she could help Anna make breakfast, but she and her chair would just get in the way. Elsa winced as she gripped the bedsheets and tried to sit up. The cuts on her arms still stung. Or was it the bandages? Dr. Gerda may have put them on to the point they were too tight and pulled on her skin.

Elsa pulled back the blankets to take a peek at her bare legs. Large purple bruises dotted her skin like blots of Chinese ink. But they looked the same as last time in the clinic. Elsa spread a hand over her calf, her palm brushing the top of a particularly large bruise. She tensed, then squeezed her leg as hard as she possibly could. Nothing. She felt absolutely nothing. It was strange, being cut off from pain below her waist.

Since Elsa started using a wheelchair, she and Anna never really ate at the dinner table anymore. Anna would bring her breakfast in bed and pull up a chair to keep her sister company.

Elsa stared at her plate, then back up at Anna with a small, crooked grin. "I think we're forgetting something..."

Anna's eyes flew wide as she remembered. "Oh, sorry. How could I forget? You always drink milk."

Just as Elsa had yogurt by night, she had milk by morning. She needed the calcium, especially when the bones in her legs were unused and weak. Anna rushed to the kitchen, and in half a minute returned with a glass of chocolate milk: mixed with a generous amount of chocolate syrup, just the way her sister liked it.

"Thanks," Elsa said. "Maybe you forget sometimes because you don't like milk."

Anna wrinkled her nose a little as she watched Elsa tip the cup to her lips. "How do you drink that cow juice every day? Even with syrup, the taste just doesn't do it for me."

Elsa shrugged. "It's good for you." She smiled at Anna saying 'cow juice.' Her younger sister had been sticking with that label since she was five. Some things never change.

Anna shook her head. "No tea and milk for me. Soda and coffee are what get me going."

"No wonder why you can never sit still," Elsa teased. "Make sure you drink plenty of water to cancel out all the sugar you're putting in your body."

"Okay, Dr. Elsa. You sure you still want to do architecture? With your brains and constant reminders about my health, might as well get an MD while you're at it."

Elsa shook her head with a smile. "No medical school for me. I don't want to be in school forever."

Within the subject of vague medical-related talk, Anna remembered Jack from the clinic last night. "That guy, Jack Frost...he's pretty cute, don't you think?"

Elsa heard the slyness in her sister's voice beneath poorly attempted nonchalance. She checked her watch. "I think we should get going."

"Avoiding the subject, are we?"

Elsa grinned and gently pushed away her sister's nudging elbow. "No really, Anna. We're almost running late."

"Almost, Elsa?" Anna laughed. "Don't get your panties all up in a bunch. We have time."

Anna always dropped Elsa off before driving to her own school. While Elsa had class in the morning, Anna didn't have class until noon. Considering the fact that Anna slept like the dead, Elsa admired her sister's discipline to get up in the morning to take care of her needs. Unlike most college students, they never had problems with finding space in the parking lot. Elsa didn't have her own car, and Anna took full advantage of the handicap spots. After being dropped off and waving goodbye to her sister, Elsa wheeled herself over to her first class.

Jack had dreamed of Elsa that night. He felt he could just lose himself in the depth of her eyes, the soothing feel of her skin. She felt so warm...wait, what? Elsa, warm? That was not how he remembered her at all. His eyes fluttered open. The warmth came from sunlight streaming through his window. He jolted awake.

"Crap! I overslept!" Jack kicked back the blankets and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

In his haste to get the phone, he accidentally yanked out the charger. It fell to the wooden floor with a loud thump, making Bunny jerk in his bed and turn over on his side.

"I don't need no girls when I got carrots," he slurred in his sleep. "They're the best. Jus' the best. Y'know what I'm sayin', mate?"

Jack rolled his eyes. Bunny's painting class wasn't until later in the morning. Jack wasn't so lucky. He threw on his blue hoodie. His legs kicked in a little dance as he pulled brown pants over his boxers. He didn't stop to brush his messy hair. There was no need. Grabbing his backpack and art supplies, he practically flew out the door in a mad dash to get to class. While Jack ran, he held the phone to his ear. He knew for sure he could get in touch with Tooth. She had an early class, too. To his relief, he heard her cheerful voice through the speaker. "Morning, Jack. What's up?"

"Hey, Tooth. Could you do me a huge favor? There's this girl I met yesterday-"

"Ooooh, a girl?"

Jack laughed. "Stop it, Tooth. You sound like Bunny. Anyway, it's a long story. I'll tell you later. She goes to Penn, so I figured you could find her on campus. She majors in architecture. Look around the liberal arts or science buildings, I guess. I forgot to get her number. Could you ask her for me?"

"Um, sure. Who is she? What does she look like?"

"Her name's Elsa Arendal. Gorgeous blonde girl in a wheelchair. Can't miss her."

Tooth laughed. "I'll definitely keep an eye out."

Jack hung up, keeping his fingers crossed that Tooth could find Elsa sometime during the day. Preferably before lunchtime.

Elsa sat in class, listening and taking notes while doing her best to mask her annoyance.

She loved school, she really did. But of all the classes she had so far, this had to be her least favorite. Due to the accident three years ago, months of recovering in the hospital and rehab during her freshman year made her miss some core classes. She had to take them later, in addition to upper-level classes and electives she had now. The problem wasn't being the only junior among freshmen. It was the instructor: Dr. Weselton. To Elsa, his political science class was a necessary evil to be endured in order to graduate.

His nickname was the Duke of Weselton, because of his pompous nature and the fact he earned his Ph. D from Duke University. But sometimes, Elsa wondered if he really did go to Duke. From what she had been hearing on campus, she wasn't alone in this speculation. A more common nickname for him was Dr. Weasel Town. Not to his face, of course. Elsa wouldn't be surprised if he did in fact weasel his way up the ladder of academia.

"Today I'm passing back your graded essays," Dr. Weselton declared. "Starting with students in the front row. Come on, hurry up."

His snappy voice always reminded Elsa of a small, angry dog. Students would fill most of the class by the time Elsa showed up, so she often sat at the back row. Dr. Weselton made a show of tapping his foot impatiently as Elsa finally worked her way up to the front.

He seemed to take glee in looking down on someone shorter than him for a change. It would be different if Elsa could stand. She really didn't like his condescending glare, as if she shouldn't be capable of intelligence. That was one of the few things Elsa hated about being wheelchair-bound: being treated as if she was mentally deficient. Thankfully, in a college environment, indignity or anger at such treatment didn't arise in her too often. But Dr. Weselton seemed quite capable of pushing her buttons. There were some days when she just wanted to ice him over. But not today. At least he wasn't stupid enough to flunk her for no reason. Elsa looked with amusement at the small, almost unreadable A on her paper, as if he was loath to admit it. Dr. Weselton droned on about an upcoming exam for a few more minutes, then it was time to go. Elsa would've politely waited to let the freshmen leave class. But when it came to Weselton, she wanted to be the first one out.

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the worst was over. Her next class was a considerable distance away. She stopped at the quad, the midway point, to rest her aching arms.

Then a light tap on the shoulder startled her. She jerked her head round to see a petite young woman dressed in brightly colored clothes. Her spiked hair was dyed in streaks of bright green and pink, though Elsa assumed from her ethnic descent that it must be naturally black.

"Excuse me, are you Elsa Arendal?" the young woman asked.

Elsa tried to recover from her surprise. "Y-yes, I am."

"I thought so. Jack told me about you. You're so beautiful!"

From Elsa's experience, that kind of remark was usually said out of politeness and pity. This time, however, she could tell that it was genuine. Her pale cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you...and who might you be?"

The young woman made a wry chuckle. "I could tell you my real name, but you might just hurt yourself from trying to say it. My parents, and Thai people in general, just love long names. I used to want to be a dentist, and all my friends say I'm like a pixie. So I guess I'm a sort of tooth fairy. You can just call me Tooth. Everyone does."

Elsa quickly grew fond of her. Tooth did remind her of a tooth fairy. "How do you know Jack?"

"We have some classes at PAFA together, but we go back through high school. Were you on your way to class before I stopped you?"

Elsa nodded. "I'm in no hurry, though."

Still, Tooth looked flustered. "I'm so sorry. I came because Jack wants to exchange numbers with you...if you're okay with it, of course."

Elsa reassured her with a warm smile as she handed Tooth her phone. "It's perfectly fine. I owe him."

"Ooh, sounds like the beginning of a very interesting story." Then Tooth pouted a little. "But I guess it'll have to wait. Which building are you off to?"

"The Fine Arts hall."

"Hey, I have class there, too! Want me to take you?" Tooth flashed a look of concern at the bandages on Elsa's arms.

"Thanks. I'd really appreciate it."

Tooth handed Elsa back her phone and took her across the quad, steering with the handles of her wheelchair. Elsa relaxed and leaned back. "You must be taking the special BFA program if you have classes on both campuses," she remarked.

"You guessed right! My schedule's a little crazy, but it all works out. Give me lots of coffee and energy drinks, and I'm good to go."

Elsa chuckled. "You sound a bit like my sister."

When Tooth and Elsa arrived at the Fine Arts hall, they parted ways by shaking hands.

"It was very nice to meet you, Elsa!" Tooth beamed. Then she added, "Your hand's cold, like Jack's. Speaking of Jack, he'd be so relieved to know that I got to see you." She leaned in and whispered, "Don't tell him I told you…but he meant to ask for your number and totally forgot."

Elsa laughed. "It's okay. I should've asked earlier and I forgot too."

Tooth sprinted upstairs to her class, leaving Elsa alone to her growing apprehension as she could only think of one thing: this was her first class of the day with Pitch Black. Long, dark-haired and lean, Pitch cut an intimidating figure. He would listen to the professor lecturing in the way Elsa had always seen him: with unblinking eyes and long chin resting on steepled fingers. She tried to suppress a shudder when his yellow gaze shifted to see her enter the classroom.

"Remember, your thesis paper is due next week," the instructor said toward the end of class. "I expect excellent work...especially from you, Elsa. I look forward to reading what you have to say."

Elsa shrank a little in her chair, sensing Pitch's acidic glare without even turning to look. She got no joy out of the professor's praise, only embarrassment of being put in the spotlight. Again.

When class ended, Elsa wheeled up to the professor as he cleaned the board. She cleared her throat. "Sir...may I ask you a favor?"

"Anything, Miss Arendal. What can I do for you?"

"I...I prefer that you not talk about me during class."

He turned around in surprise. "Why not, dear? Your intellectual insight and work ethic is an inspiration to us all. You're one of the brightest students I've had in years, Elsa. And that's saying a lot, considering the caliber of this school and the time I've been teaching here. You'll go on to do great things, I know it. You have so much potential."

Elsa tried to mention Pitch, but had difficulty figuring out what she was going to say. Finally she sighed and said, "I appreciate you feeling that way, sir. It's just...I feel very uncomfortable when you let everyone know."

The professor looked deeply apologetic. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. Of course I'll respect your wishes."

Elsa sighed with relief. "Thank you, sir."

He winked. "I'll still see an A paper from you, yes?"

She couldn't help but smile. "I'll do my best."

Elsa had been having classes with some of the same people for three years now, but she hardly knew them. Granted, they didn't have much of a chance to talk among themselves while professors gave lectures. But as soon as class would end, Elsa saw them gather into little groups and go have fun somewhere off campus. Not surprisingly, Elsa took longer than most to pack up and leave class. She had to turn around for her backpack hanging behind her chair, a feat that made her bruises really hurt. The second to leave was always a Filipino guy, who would stay behind to hold the door open for her before he left himself.

When she finished talking with the professor, she was surprised to see him still standing outside and holding the door.

'He seems nice,' she thought. 'Maybe I should get to know him better.'

Elsa had always given him a quiet and polite "thank you," but their interaction never went beyond that. She could change that today.

"Thank you. Miko, is it?"

"Yeah." He looked surprised for a second.

She remembered Anna once telling her: "Starting a conversation might seem scary to you, but often times the other person feels the same way. Don't be afraid to take the first step!"

Elsa fought back the jitters in her stomach. "Wherever you and your friends are going to hang out...you mind if I come along?"

His smile faded and he looked visibly uncomfortable. "Um...we always go play basketball after this class, so..."

Elsa looked down at her wheelchair. Her useless legs. "Oh. Sorry I asked."

Miko looked torn between guilt and pity. Suddenly Elsa felt foolish for mustering her courage like that. She tried to put his guilt at ease.

"I just want to let you know that I've always been grateful for you holding the door. Don't feel bad."

He managed a little smile after hearing that. "No problem. Have a good day, Elsa."

"You too. Have fun."

Though Miko did nothing to offend her, she couldn't help but feel dismayed. This was why she preferred to be alone. Being alone by choice hurt a lot less than trying to be with others, only to get excluded in some way or another. In the end though, she'd much rather stay out of the way than be in the way. The last thing she wanted was to feel like unwanted baggage.

Then Elsa thought of Tooth giving her Jack's number. Keeping Anna's advice in mind once more, she gave him a call.

Jack took a break between his classes by pulling up the Facebook app on his phone.

'Why didn't I think of it earlier? I could just look her up on here.'

But when he typed her name in the search bar, nothing came up. He found Anna Arendal, though. They had met before, and they were on good terms, so Jack saw no harm in sending her a friend request. The amount of friends she had was staggering. He wondered how many of them were people she actually knew. He let out a small chuckle when his request was accepted mere seconds later.

Then his phone buzzed. A text from Tooth…with Elsa's number! He broke out into a wide grin. So Tooth's mission was a success, after all. And just when he thought his day couldn't get any better, his phone buzzed again, signaling an incoming call from Elsa.

"Um…hello, Jack?"

"Hey, Elsa."

He heard her breathe a sigh of relief. "I was just calling to make sure I got the right number."

"Tooth did her job right. So yes, you did." Suddenly he felt his tongue thick in his mouth as he tried to get out the words. "I wanted to get in touch with you, and I was just about to call when you beat me to it. Listen, um…I was wondering, you know, if you're not busy…Are you?" He cringed at how idiotic he must sound over the phone.

"No, I'm out of class now. What is it, Jack?"

"You want to have lunch with me?" Jack tried to push what Bunny had said to the back of his mind. 'It's not a date…it's not a date…I just met her yesterday.'

Her voice was light with happy surprise. "Sure. I'd love that."

His heart beat faster. "How about I meet you at a Philly cheesesteak place on your campus? I mean, there's gotta be one, right?"

He heard her laugh over the phone. "Yes, there is."

"Cool beans. I'll see you soon, then."

No sooner than he hung up, Jack wanted to slap a palm to his forehead. 'Cool beans? Really? Now she must think I'm a dork.'

Why was he so worked up over this? It was just a…he couldn't think of the word for it. Not-a-date?