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Elsa kept her gaze trained on the paper in front of her, her pencil clenched in her right hand. She gnawed lightly on the end as she perused the test in front of her. A flash of white caught her eye. She looked up. As she stared, he suddenly jerked his head to look out of the window, his tousled white hair catching the light, shimmering. His hair itself was the purest shade of white, glistening like freshly fallen snow, unlike her own platinum blonde hair. He looked back to his deck, pausing a moment while tapping his pen on the desk before writing. She watched him write. His fingers were nimble, but strong. Her eyes wandered up to his strong forearm, which disappeared into his jacket, rolled up to his elbows to free his hands. He rubbed his eyes in a bored manner. His nose was straight, flawlessly symmetrical, pale, perfect lips, currently pursued in concentration. Suddenly, he looked up, as if sensing her gaze. Elsa saw a flash of his icy azure eyes, framed by black lashes, before she shyly ducked down to glance at her test.

Her hands, covered in bicycle gloves, trembled slightly as she penciled in the date and her name in perfectly flowing letters. She paused, trying to catch her breath, before starting on question one. She managed to clear her head and finish in record time. She'd been expecting this quiz for a week now. She double checked her answers and was preparing to triple check them. She jumped at the unexpected sound of Mrs. McKee's voice.

"Five minute warning."

Elsa sighed with relief and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Elsa rarely got nervous. She had a careful grip on her emotions.

"Conceal, don't feel," she recited in a hushed whisper.

She glanced up. Jackson Overland was looking at her. She immediately trained her gaze back on her paper. It always unnerved Elsa when he looked at her. She finished triple checking and spent the last two minutes neatly stowing her books in her backpack.

"Time's up, class. Set your tests on my desks before you leave. And remember, you have an essay do Thursday. You are to read out your report out loud. You will be graded based on the contents of material and quality of speech. So remember, speak clearly and loudly. Class dismissed."

Elsa slid out of her chair and shouldered her backpack, preparing to make a hasty getaway. Mrs. McKee held the doors open for the students.

"Good job on your last assignment, Elsa." Mrs. McKee's voice was laced with warmth, something Elsa always lacked.

"Thank you, Mrs. McKee," she replied cordially, offering her a small smile.

Mrs. McKee was a cheerful, buxom lady. She always dressed in bright floral patterns and golden hoop earrings. Her frizzy strawberry blonde tresses were never pulled back. Anna and Mrs. McKee seemed to be kindred spirits. In a word, effervescent. Elsa clutched her books tighter to her chest and speed walked to her locker. There were three colors of lockers, each in a different wing. Red was in the west wing, orange in the north wing, and green in the east wing. Elsa strode quickly to the west wing. She tugged at the sleeve of her jacket to glance at her watch. Two more periods until lunch. She grimaced at the thought of her next period: physical science, but immediately perked up when she realized Jack Overland wouldn't be there. He wouldn't be in any more of her periods except art. Elsa glanced up when snickers caught her attention. A few girls were huddled together off to the side. Elsa caught a glance of Jessica. Jessica had beautiful olive-toned skin with spider silk straight black hair that fell to her curving waist. She was the school's trend setter. She was already willowy and tall, but her delicate wedges added to her height. She wore a lacey pink tank-top and a denim mini skirt. Elsa couldn't find a place on her that wasn't bejeweled and accessorized. Jessica shot her a smug smile, her graceful eyebrows arching, before turning to the group and whispering something. They laughed. Elsa had the distinct expression they were trying to exclude her. She rolled her eyes at their child-like antics. Elsa had gotten off on the wrong foot with her last year. As the new girl, she earned instant access into their clique, but immediately got kicked out when she corrected Jessica's gossiping. The topic had been a sweet, shy girl named Amanda.

Elsa pulled back from the memory and stopped at her locker. She twirled the dial on the lock several times before pulling it open. She exchanged her writing workbook for her science book—Physical Science Unit Two—and lab book before slamming the locker shut. She wasted no time in walking to the lab. She slid into her desk and read the words on the dry-erase board: Experiment 3.3 "Atoms in Motion." She opened the science book, flipping pages until she found the experiment. She copied the list of procedures and materials in her lab book before he—Mr. Hinojosa—started the lecture.

"Alright, settle down. Now, does anyone know what today's experiment is about?" he asked, looking at the class with a broad smile.

His question was met by silence and blank stares.

"No? Nobody? It was in the module you were assigned to read… Miss Elsa?"

Elsa looked up from her lab book.

"Can you explain what this experiment demonstrates?"

She nodded. "It shows how temperature affects atoms."

"Yes, thank you. This is also the reason why hot air rises and cold air falls. You are about to see atoms in action!" he shouted ardently.

Elsa smiled. Though science was a bore, Mr. Hinojosa's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Now, despite what other teachers, professors, and scientists might claim, we have never actually seen atoms. That was one of the points mentioned in your module. Now, if you haven't already, flip to page 50 in your science book."

She inhaled and exhaled, careful not to hyperventilate. She touched the opposite end of the court and sprinted back, her legs pumping. She stopped just short of hitting the wall.

"Elsa, hustle a bit more next time. Janette, I'm disappointed. Fifty burpees. That corner. Come on girls, faster! Almost there, Lindsay!"

Elsa collapsed onto the bleachers and watched the other girls run suicides. She lay there, her chest heaving. Her whole body was coated in sweat, making her clothes and hair sticky. Finally, she sat up and took a long swig of water before heading to the showers. She rinsed off, applied deodorant, and put on a fresh shirt and a pair of jeans before donning her jacket. She was severely tempted to tie the jacket sleeves around her waist, but decided against it. She got to art 5 minutes ahead of time. Mr. North was hunched over his desk, drawing something with brisk strokes of a paint brush. She waited patiently for it to begin.

"Elsa, my favorite student!" he greeted with his thick Russian accent.

"Hi, Mr. North."

"Mr. North? You make me sound old. I told you, call me Nick."

Elsa smiled. "Hi, Nick. How's that?"

"Picture perfect." He held up the painting he was working on. It was off a reindeer in an evergreen forest. Mr. Nick was obsessed with winter and Elsa couldn't blame him; she liked winter herself.

"Are we using water paints today?"

"Yes, vee paint vith the vater and the paint. You can get the materials from the closet."

"Do you know where the disposable cups are?"

"Under the sink.

"Thanks."

Elsa filled a cup with water. Carefully, she watched the cup of liquid as she walked forward carefully not to spill. She bumped into something solid and the water tipped over. She tried to suppress her frustration.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

She looked up at the sound of the deep voice. Jackson Overland. His eyes locked onto hers, stealing her breath. He looked away, almost shyly.

"Here, let me help."

He took the cup from her and set it on a desk before grabbing a couple dozen paper towels. He began to dab the front of her shirt. She cleared her throat and timidly took over his job, heat rising to her cheeks.

"Oh, uh, right. I'm sorry about that."

She looked up and he flashed her a nervous smile. Her knees began to buckle and she became light-headed. Elsa felt herself beginning to tip backwards, but quickly righted herself, grabbing onto something for support. Which happened to be the front of his shirt. His hands held onto her shoulders, steadying her.

"You okay?"

She only heard a distant murmur. His chest felt hard and solid underneath his shirt. His strong hand with nimble fingers covered her shoulders. She looked up—he was a good deal taller—and was met by his shockingly blue eyes. She could feel herself sinking again.

"M-maybe you should sit down."

He guided her to a chair and she sank into it, still clinging to his shirt. She tried to open her hand, but it defied her command and remained, tightly grasping the front of his shirt. She glanced around. The class had arrived and they were watching the spectacle she had created with barely veiled interest. Elsa had heat blaze to her cheeks. The sensation was odd, she'd never felt this hot before. He tried to pull away slowly, but her hand was firmly clenched into a fist. He glanced down at her gloved hand and back at her face several times. What's wrong with me? She slowly opened her hand and placed it in her lap. Jack took his seat next to her, the only one left. She heard Mr. North say something about art and painting, but couldn't quite catch it. She only managed to paint idle swirls. Mr. North glanced at her picture, but said nothing.