Hello my friends! I tried to go to sleep without finishing this chapter, but it didn't happen. Too many ideas crawling through my head. I needed to let them loose. I know I promised a few chapters this weekend, so hopefully I'll get another one up tomorrow. (It's still the weekend for me. No school until Wednesday, suckers!) Let me know what you think. This was a fun chapter to write. :) Read. Reread. Review. Thanks, y'all.

The minute Jack is helped off the field, my feet are sprinting around the track. Tooth calls after me, but I don't stop or turn around. Without ever consciously making the decision, I think I'm trying to intercept the slow-moving injury caravan before they disappear into the inner recesses of the locker room. Where I definitely will not be allowed entrance.

"Wait," I gasp out. They're moving more quickly than I thought. I'm not going to catch them. I try to move my feet faster, and I reach one hand out to them as they cross the lanes of the track, Jack limping along with support. At least he's upright, I think.

I'm too late. There's still a good 50 feet between me and them when I lose track of them. Dangit. Now how will I see him?

"Clara!"

I turn and look into the crowd, but I don't see any faces that are too familiar.

"Behind you, dummy."

I whirl around. Merida is standing behind me, her hair pulled up into the messiest ponytail I've ever seen. Even contained, her red locks look wild.

At my frantic wide-eyed look, Merida's expression changes from amusement to concern. "What's wrong?"

"Jack…on the field…I was trying…" I manage to gasp out. I'm still breathing hard from my impromptu 200 yard dash around the field.

She immediately takes my hand and pulls me toward the locker room. "Don't you worry, Els…sorry, I mean, Clara," she says reassuringly. I let her pull me along, because she seems like she knows what she's doing, and I will gladly defer to anyone with that kind of confidence right now.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we near the school buildings.

"Inside the locker rooms, duh," she smiles back at me. "Lucky for you, the cheerleaders and dance team need a place to put their stuff, too."

Now that I've found a way in, though, I start to have second thoughts. Jack's just been injured…what if he doesn't want me to see him right now? What if they won't let me in the locker room? What if I'll just end up looking like a crazed girl with a crush who has no genuine reason to be checking on Jack in the men's locker room?

It's this thought that makes me pull away from Merida's vise-like grip.

She's jerked back with me, but doesn't let go.

"Oy! What's the deal, man? I thought you wanted to see Jack," she says with her typical amount of tact.

I raise my one hand that isn't being held hostage up in front of me, palm facing out, and shrug slightly. "I do, I just…" It's hard to put into words what my fear is.

Merida takes a step closer to me, her eyes boring into mine. "He'll want to see you, if that's what you're afraid of," she says quietly. "You're all he talks about."

He what now? "Excuse me?" I say in the calmest voice I can muster, which turns out to be a squeak.

She rolls her eyes at me. "Seriously, Elsa," she whispers my name, "he wants to see you. Trust me." And she's so sincere, I can't help but believe her.

I nod, and she turns back, dragging me behind her, and rushes to a set of double doors that have been painted a fading purple. She looks at me briefly to flash a wide reassuring grin, and then knocks loudly on the door. I cringe with every booming rap, but at least I don't run away.

In reality, it probably only takes ten seconds for her knocks to be answered, but in my mind, it's an eternity. A sign from the universe telling me that this is a terrible idea and that Jack doesn't want me to be around and that I should just leave right now before I embarrass myself in front of everyone. But then the door opens, and an assistant coach stares out at us like he can't figure out for the world why we're standing there.

"Can I help you ladies with something?" he asks politely, albeit a little impatiently.

Merida gets right to the point. "We're here to see Jack Frost." She's as direct as her arrows.

"Well, he's still a bit groggy…" the man begins, but Merida is not one to be denied, especially when she's on a mission.

"I've got a really close friend of his with me that is really worried about him," she says authoritatively, pointing back at me. I do my best to look really worried, which basically means I put on my normal facial expression, and the coach's attention turns to me. I tense up, not exactly knowing what to do, but I meet his gaze. I can feel his eyes taking in the look on my face and in my eyes, then slowly noticing my out-of-place plain black shirt. Maybe I should look more like Burgess fan, I think, but it's too late for that now.

After a moment, he nods simply and steps back, holding the door open for us to follow him in. Merida makes a small fist pump and thanks him, stepping through the doors confidently and letting go of my hand. I rub circulation back into my fingers and follow them hesitantly. We walk down a semi-lit hallway, passing a few doors on either side before reaching a room at the end of the hall, where light spills out from the doorframe. I can hear low voices inside, and one of them – I could recognize that snarky tone anywhere – is Jack's.

"I've got a couple visitors here for you," the coach says as he steps through the door. Merida hangs back, letting me catch up to her, and stops before reaching the threshold.

"I'm not gonna go in with you," she whispers to me.

"What? Why?" I demand.

She shrugs at me, but there's something sly about the movement. "He's not my boyfriend. And besides, I would hate to be in the way of anything," she says, and I can feel a blush starting to creep up my neck. I know she's just teasing me, but what can I say? I'm easily embarrassed.

I nudge her with my elbow. "It's not like that," I say, but she just laughs and urges me forward into the room. When I look back, she's halfway down the hall, but she pauses to give me a thumbs up before disappearing out the double doors again.

The locker room that Jack was taken to is stark white, except for the grey lockers that line the walls. There are wooden benches placed in parallel lines to the lockers, and there's a long table in the middle of the space that Jack is laying on, propped up by an equipment back and his own elbows. Most of his gear has been taken off from the waist up, leaving him in his leg pads and a tight white T-shirt.

"I thought you said there were two visitors," Jack says confusedly. "But I'm only seeing one. Am I really that out of it right now?"

The coach turns back from where he was rummaging through a black duffel bag and glances at me. "Huh. I could've sworn there were two of them when I let them in. Maybe I'm the one who's out of it."

Jack laughs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks completely fine. Better than fine, actually. I probably shouldn't have come. Now I'll look like I was overreacting – which I was, but I still don't want it to look that way. I give Jack a tentative smile, and he beams back at me like I just told him that he won the PowerBall.

"Uh, Mike? Would you mind letting us talk for a minute or two?" he asks the coach.

Mike looks up again from his duffel bag. "Oh, yeah, sure, take as much time as you need. I'll just be in the other room…going through stuff," he says vaguely, picking up the bag as if it weighed less than nothing and striding from the room.

The minute he's gone, Jack swings his legs from the table and drops his feet to the floor. There's a loud clack as his cleats hit the concrete floor. He stands, but he must still be a bit dizzy, because the movement causes him to lose his balance.

I rush over to him and try to offer him support before he falls over. "Thanks," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I must still be a little…discombobulated."

I laugh and try to keep my composure, which is hard to do when Jack's touching me. "No kidding," I respond as lightly as possible. "Where exactly do you want to go?" I say, looking around the room.

"Well, now that you're here, I'm game to go anywhere." He looks down at me and smiles, then nods his head over to one set of benches. "But over there would be great for starters."

I place one hand around his waist. For extra support. Yeah, that's why my hand is there. "So what exactly happened to you out there?" I ask, trying to dispel the tension that has filled the room.

He sighs. "Well, I was already worried about this game because of the what happened last year…you know, the thing with North, and so I think I was focusing more on that than the game, and when I saw him coming for me on that last play, I kinda…freaked out." He glances at me like he's ashamed of admitting that he was scared. I try to keep my face neutral, and as we reach the bench, I help him ease down onto it. "I don't even think I was actually knocked out. I saw stars, and I think I had the wind knocked out of me, but I'm okay, I promise."

The minute we're sitting, my natural reaction is to move away from him. We haven't really gotten a chance to talk to each other after our kiss, and I'm more than a little nervous about what he'll have to say when that conversation arises. But his arm around my shoulder keeps me from getting any distance.

It doesn't stop him from noticing my attempt to get away. "Going somewhere?" he asks in a mock-hurt voice.

"I guess not," I say grudgingly.

"Wait, you don't want to be sitting with me?" He's using a joking tone, but there's something serious about the way he asks it. I don't want a conversation about this to be happening now. I didn't have time to mentally prepare for it.

Instead of answering his question the way he wants, I turn to look up at him through narrowed eyes. "You smell like football," I say primly.

Jack laughs, pulling me closer to him and pushing his damp hair into my face. "Just take it all in, honey."

I join in his laughter and push away from him. "Jack! Ew, gross. Get away from me you sweaty peasant!"

He releases his hold on my shoulder and doubles over in laughter at the look on my face. This. This is what I came here for. To have fun with my best friend. To make sure that he's okay.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He's caught me off guard. "Huh?" I ask, trying to gain some time. My heart starts pounding like a jackhammer inside my chest.

"I have a question to ask you." He speaks slowly, as if he's speaking underwater.

I resist the urge to cover my face with my hands, and instead allow them to flutter around the hem of my shirt, smoothing it down in any place it may have ridden up while I was helping Jack. I don't say a word.

"Elsa?" The question comes out as a whisper.

"Don't ever ask if you can ask me a question. It freaks me out. Just ask the question," I say without looking at him.

He turns so that one leg is draped over each side of the bench and he's fully facing me. "I need you to look at me when I ask you," he says gently. I don't turn to face him, and instead let my hair fall from behind my ear, masking my face from his gaze. "Elsa, please look at me," he says again, and the sudden touch of his hand on my face almost makes me jump. He pushes my hair back from my face and turns my chin so that we're making eye contact. Then he leaves his hand there, cupping my face.

"Okay, so what's the question?" I ask in a quiet voice. I'm so scared that he's going to say that we shouldn't have kissed. That it was a mistake. That he could never see me in that way. I try to take deep calming breaths as I look into Jack's eyes. Ice blue. Perfect. Eyes I could lose myself in.

"Have you been avoiding me because we kissed?"

His question breaks the trance I've been falling under. "What? Why would you think that?" I'm so confused. He thinks I've been avoiding him?

Jack looks down, where his other hand is picking at a hole by his knee, pulling on the tiny strings that dangle from the tear. "We just haven't really talked since that night, and I've been wondering if it's because you're embarrassed."

I want to run away. From this conversation, from this moment with Jack. My stomach is twisting itself into knots, and I can't even tell if they're good or bad knots.

Jack deserves my honesty. I've lied to him enough. "No, I'm not embarrassed," I say bluntly.

He looks up at me again, and we're so close that I can see myself mirrored in his eyes.

"Good, because I was afraid that…it happened so suddenly that…Ach, I don't even know what I'm trying to say right now." It's very rare that I see Jack at a loss for words.

For me, on the other hand, it's very common. I wait to see if he'll say more. And thankfully, I don't have to wait long.

"What I'm trying to say," he says, scooting closer to me as he speaks, "is that all I've been able to think about for the past week has been kissing you, and all I can think about right now is how much I want to do it again."

Happiness blooms in my chest, like a soft warmth that threatens to swell up and break out. I start to respond, but my words are cut off as his lips meet mine. Unlike our first kiss in the limited space of his car, there's nothing keeping us away from each other this time. Jack's one hand remains on my chin, like he's afraid I would pull away if he wasn't keeping me there. Silly boy, like I would ever do that. His other hand winds around my waist, pulling the rest of me to him. My eyes close as my body relaxes into his grip.

I can't help but smile as we kiss, and any self-consciousness or hesitation I might have felt about kissing Jack with other people so close by vanishes like smoke in the wind. My hands travel up his arms, cross his shoulders, and come to rest buried in his fantastic hair.

We kiss for a long time before I pull away. Jack protests, using his hand on my chin to move my mouth towards his again.

"Wait," I whisper, opening my eyes.

He pauses, confusion sprinting across his face.

"You aren't just doing this because you're still groggy from getting a concussion, are you?" I try to say it teasingly, but it's also a genuine concern.

He laughs breathlessly. "One, I do not have a concussion, and two, I am more alert right now than I've been my entire life."

"Doubt it," I shoot back.

"Elsa," he says quietly, "I've known that we were inevitable ever since the fifth grade. So please don't argue with me right now."

I'm just ready to melt back into his embrace when another thought stops me. "So does this mean…" I begin, and I see some emotion I don't recognize in his eyes, "…that we're officially Music Exchange partners?"

Jack laughs and kisses me again. "I think it means a whole lot more than that."