A/N: A quick little warning—this chapter does contain a mentioning of drugs.
This high school AU is written in collaboration with my fantastic best friend, bluejunemoon. The two of us hope that you enjoy reading, just as much as we enjoyed writing it!
Chapter 1
The circled box on her calendar seems to grow bigger and bigger each day. With summer almost coming to a close, she is dreading the thought of going back to school. One more week until she won't have freedom to go wherever she pleases. Instead, she would be stuck in a classroom, staring at the four walls out of boredom and only wishing to get back to her apartment.
The girl stares at her most recent strike against the calendar—September 5th. In seven days, on September 12th, high school would send her into a black abyss of homework, tests, and loneliness. She really didn't want to think about that, but she knew she had to. In fact, the letter that is sitting on her desk for two weeks, apparently from the high school, had been left unopened, and it was probably time to open it up.
Her head turns and she glances over at the envelope which had started to collect dust at this point, and knew she had put it off for long enough. Slowly and silently she makes her way over, sliding into her chair with ease as she took her place in front of her desk. Her fingers reach forward to find the envelope within their grasp, but she hesitated. Maybe she could put it off a little longer, if she really wanted to. There is a whole week left before she had to go to school, after all.
No, her mind scolds her, you need to open that letter right now. She took one more moment to hesitate, and sighs through her nose before she reaches forward and started to open the envelope. She makes sure to avoid the part where it had clearly been licked and she pulls out the white, folded paper, swallowing nervously as she tosses away the envelope. As she unfolds the letter, her eyes immediately start to trail the words as she read.
Dear Ms. Vanellope Von Schweetz,
Welcome to King High School! Here at King, we are dedicated to developing the character and intellectual strengths that will lead to an enriched adult life. Students are encouraged to partake in the community at King through our copious elective programs; I am almost positive that you will find a part of our school that will fit you. In addition to academics, I expect you to find a comfortable social circle that you can call "home." Learning to work with people from many diverse backgrounds is the key to succeeding as a healthy adult. I am looking forward to greeting you personally once school begins on September 12th.
Sincerely,
Mr. Candy
As the reality of the letter started to sink in, Vanellope thought about what life at a new high school was going to be like. While the letter seemed to have a warm, welcoming tone, Vanellope knew well of what teens her age were capable of. Despite the reassurance, she was not entirely convinced that every person at her new high school was going to be as friendly as the letter implied.
"Oh snap, crackle, pop! I need to make the runs!" Vanellope groaned, jumping up from her chair.
She goes through her morning routine—if one could call it that—where she throws her hair up in a ponytail, slips into her mint-green hoodie and brown skirt, and heads to the kitchen. When she opens the fridge, her nose crinkles at the lack of desirable breakfast items. As a result, she figures it would be better to just skip breakfast altogether. A cheeseburger from the BurgerTime diner sounds pretty good right about now, but that would require a bit more money than she actually had. The thought of eating such a great meal makes her mouth water.
But a moment later, Vanellope sighs as her stomach growls. It was in that moment that she decides she will make her runs a little earlier than usual. In one swift motion, she slams the fridge's door shut before she puts a bit of enthusiasm in her step. As she makes it to the front door of her apartment, she casts one look back to the lonely yet humble abode she owned.
For a short couple of seconds she thinks, and even dares to imagine what life could be like if this apartment of hers wasn't so empty. She moves a stray piece of hair aside before she blinks, and then rolls her eyes at such a silly thought. She had, after all, been a loner for the majority of her life, and didn't exactly see that changing anytime soon. This place would stay just as isolated as it always was, with its decrepit walls that peeled paint at the corners, and its one old couch that was so aged, cotton was popping out of little wears and tears in the fabric. The place was truly barren.
Her heart aches a little. It's not like she says goodbye to a mother and father everyday. She's never gotten tucked into bed and have anyone tell her 'sweet dreams.' Part of her longs for it, and a pang settles in her chest as she ponders on the thought of what life with a family would be like. But after some contemplation, she snaps out of it.
Vanellope surveys her living situation and instead of feeling sad, she just smiles to herself. It might be run down, but it all belongs to her, and that was enough to make her happy. As long as she didn't have to go anywhere near that old orphanage ever again, she would be pleased.
Though she supposed to herself that she wouldn't be alone later on, since the government worker would be coming by the next day to visit her. That made the need to go out for a heist all the more urgent. She digs around in her hoodie's pouch until she finds her sunglasses, places them on her face, and then turns to walk out the door to try to cheat her way through getting a cheeseburger before night hits.
A disgruntled woman walks by with a stroller; her half-lidded eyes, her deep-casted frown, and her wailing child tells the entire story. Aww, geez. She would be easy, but even I wouldn't wanna ruin her day even more; she's already miserable, Vanellope thought to herself. Putting her hands in her pockets, she leans back on the weathered brick wall; its past vibrant red has aged into a cracked golden brown. She pushes her sunglasses back up; her mind is still in deep thought.
A pudgy, short man saunters across Vanellope's field of vision. He is dressed in a pristine, perfectly-ironed suit that fits snugly to his figure. He must've had that tailored, thought Vanellope. He has the last remaining strands of his snow-white hair slicked back; his back stood straight, his chin is raised to the sky, and his eyes betray no emotion. Wow, that is a real moneybags if I've ever seen one. Old people have always been easy, but I might be hunted down if I ever put a single finger on him, contemplated Vanellope.
From the corner of her eye, a new potential victim lazily stomps past. He towers above everyone in his way; he is heavy-set, but it looks like he could easily crush someone's windpipe. He walks barefoot on the hard concrete, and his hands and feet are caked in dirt. His clothes are minimal: he wears a pair of badly torn pants and a battered, grimy jacket over a t-shirt filled with holes. Even though there is a fair amount of distance between them, Vanellope's nostrils are attacked by the giant man's foul stench. He reeks: it was a horrible combination of sweat, dirt, and whatever else he has on his body.
Vanellope wrinkles her entire face in reply. Gross! He smells like a rotten piece of meat that has been left out in the sun for an entire week, Vanellope thinks. Glancing out of her squinted eyes, she notices that the man's jacket is bulging out at his side and misshapen. Jackpot! He definitely has something in there. I would rather never touch him, but I really want that BurgerTime meal.
Letting the giant man trudge past her, she pulls up her hood and begins to stroll right behind him. Okay… Gotta do this fast! In a blink of an eye, Vanellope snakes her way around to his side, roughly bumps his arm, and reaches into his jacket pocket. She feels something firm and solid, and before the man could even react to her initial bump, she quickly snatches it and deposits it in her hoodie's pocket. All of Vanellope's actions were executed fluidly and almost instantaneously; it was proof of her experience and practicing in pickpocketing.
"WOAH!" bellowed the giant man. "Watch it!" He gives Vanellope a quick glare before continuing on his way.
She smirks in reply, "Nah, you watch yourself."
She spins on her heel and held back her snickering as she clutches her pickpocketed item within her hands. That was way too easy, Vanellope couldn't help but grin as she increases her speed and skips around the corner. She breathes a sigh of relief as her heart rate, which had sped up quite a bit, starts to beat at its normal pace again.
A moment passes by where she smiles smugly to herself, and the thought of cheeseburgers and crispy french fries floats through her mind. As her mouth waters all over again, she pulls the item out of her hoodie pouch. Her eyebrows immediately furrow in confusion upon what she sees—it's a small, white box, a bit dinged up on the outside and fairly dirty despite the color of the exterior. Feeling irritated now, she secures her hand around the grimy top of the box and pulls it off.
Immediately, her eyes widen as stun washes over her like a wave crashing against the shore. Inside, there is no money, but instead she finds various buds of roasted grass. It's prickly to the touch, glazed with small specks of gold, and wears a coat of snow-white particles.
"What the. . . are you kidding me?" she snaps under her breath. She should have known that big guy was no good! No wonder he smelled so bad. He was just a no good bum with an addiction, and she had no means to get involved with any drugs—
"Hey!" there was a furious shout, and Vanellope's head immediately snaps up to see the man she has just robbed. Her pupils visibly shrunk when it became clear he was in a rage—his breathing was sounding labored as he stood a few feet away, taking a moment to catch his breath as he stares at her. "Give me back my stuff!"
Vanellope starts to contemplate what to actually do in a situation like this. There had been times where she'd almost gotten caught, sure—but never had she been confronted. She was so sure she had gotten off fine, but now as she stares back at the angered beast, she was not so sure what to actually do. So, she decides upon the one thing she knows how to do best.
The teenager, without dropping the box, immediately takes off running, hearing the man shout at her once more. This isn't the best plan, is all she can think to herself. She easily maneuvers between the people walking down the sidewalk, ignoring their mutters of annoyance as she brushes past them. She knows, though, that the burly man is chasing after her, and that fact terrifies her.
Vanellope notices that up ahead, the crosswalk has just turned red, but that doesn't stop her. Her brows furrowed together in determination as she does not hesitate at all. She only glances to look over her shoulder, and sees that the man is hot on her heels, shoving past pedestrians in order to get to Vanellope. Now she's dead set on what she's about to do. The girl braces herself as the light turns green up ahead, and she runs head-on into traffic that had just started to move. There's an immediate retaliation as cars honk. Her head turns just fast enough to see a car slamming on its breaks, and she jumps just high enough to where the vehicle barely avoids nicking her as it finally screeches to a halt.
Someone pokes their head out to scream a curse at her, but she ignores it as her feet hit concrete again. She turns around and a grin appears on her face when she notices the smelly hobo hasn't decided to pursue her past the crosswalk—maybe he valued his life too much to risk a move like the one that Vanellope had just managed to pull off. Now feeling quite smug, she turns a corner and disappears out of sight.
Vanellope certainly was not expecting opening up a box to find some deranged man's stash—but now that she was staring down at it, she couldn't help but think that it might be a good thing that she found this little box. It wasn't money, but it certainly could be sold for money. Thinking about it like that made her feel a little more satisfied in robbing the hobo, and she couldn't help it as another smirk crossed her face.
While she isn't about to get a steaming cheeseburger and crunchy fries, she might get plenty of money to have that meal multiple times in the future if she plays her cards correctly and finds someone desperate enough to buy off of her. It was true that she had detested such an idea at first, but she might as well take advantage of such a situation. She continues to walk down the street, and she hums pleasantly to herself as she can't help but giggle now about the expression of that furious man. He truly had looked ridiculous.
Vanellope pauses and turns her head to see a shortcut back to her apartment. She's crossed this alleyway plenty of times—it was perfectly safe. She cautiously checks one last time for the man she'd robbed, and once she sees that the coast is clear, she inconspicuously heads down the alleyway.
There's a little pep in her step as she glances up at the sky. The sun is no longer visible between the tops of the buildings, but instead the sky is starting to change colors. She pulls her phone out of her skirt pocket to check the time, and she sees that it's starting to get late. The government worker wouldn't be at her apartment until noon the next day, which would give her plenty of time to hide her little stash somewhere in her home before he got there. She sighs as she slips her phone away again, smirking at how genius she felt for flipping a bad situation into a good one.
Vanellope looks up just in time to notice that the gate that sits at the end of the alleyway—which was usually unlocked—was closed, locking her in. She can't help but groan at this as she tugs on the gate with one hand, trying to pry it open, but to no avail. It doesn't budge.
"Great." She murmurs under her breath, a look of aggravation on her face. She's never seen the gate locked up before. Just as she's about to turn around, something tells her she's being watched. Vanellope straightens up and harshly swallows, preparing for the worst as she slowly turns around.
Her worst fear is confirmed as a shadow looms over her, and her eyes slowly rise up to meet the face of the now disgruntled man. His massive arms are crossed over his chest as he stares down at her, a mix of anger and annoyance in his expression. Vanellope's fingers tap against the side of the box as she purses her lips, looking for any means of escape as her eyes wander. The awkward silence becomes extremely tense as neither of them speak.
That's when Vanellope suddenly makes her move—she quickly snaps around, shoving the box in her hoodie pouch and then jumping at the gate, desperately making a means to climb up it. Her hands fail to get a grip on the metal, but she wraps her legs around the gate in an attempt to find enough hold to drag herself up.
"You little thief, are you insane? You nearly got yourself killed over a box!" the man spits the words at her, and she feels her heart start to pound. She notices that he's gotten closer by a few steps. The space in between them is not enough.
"Lay one hand on me, and I'll scream." Vanellope hisses at him, her arms wrapped around the cold metal for dear life.
"I just want my box."
Vanellope thinks about the way he says it. Though he looks angry, he seems to have suppressed it into a more calm demeanor. One hand is being held out as if he's expecting her to simply drop the box there. Thinking about the fact that she has a slight advantage over him, she starts to relax and a smirk crosses her face as she lets go of the gate.
"Oh, yeah? And why should I give it back?" Vanellope asks, cocking her head slightly as she looks up at him, feeling complacent with her clearly getting under his skin as he appears to bristle.
"Because it's mine?" he says, as if it's obvious. "And I need it. What's a kid like you need that stuff for anyway?"
She falters slightly as she thinks about the reason she even pickpocketed him to begin with, "It's. . . it's nothing that you have to know about!"
He frowns at this, but then he's the one smirking. "I'll call the cops on you."
"What are they gonna do? You're just gonna get in trouble for having this stuff on you." Vanellope returns, trying to keep her cool.
"Not if you have it," he reasons, "they're going to arrest you, not me."
"They can't arrest me, I'm just a kid!" Vanellope shouts at him.
"And you're a little asshole, too." The man points out, but then seems to become genuinely curious instead of desiring to simply continue the banter. "I can't believe I have to beg a kid to give me something back that's mine. Besides, what're you robbing people for? Do you have nothing better to do?"
Vanellope immediately hesitates. For one, she doesn't want this guy to call the cops on her and pin having the box in possession on her, but at the same time, he was making her infuriated with his choice of words, and she certainly despises being questioned on her motives. She doesn't want to give the box back, but she knows she has to. Maybe it was just a pipe dream to try and get a lot of money off of selling the contents of the box anyhow. . .
She tears the box out of her hoodie and shoves it into his stomach, feeling bitter about this entire thing.
"Have your stupid box, then, you reeking hobo! See how much I care," she snaps at him, and without another word, she heatedly walks down the alleyway from where she came.
She's really mad, she has to admit that to herself. But giving up what she stole was better than having the police called on her. That's the last thing she wanted, and besides, she didn't want some smelly old guy to be the one to get her in trouble either.
"Hey, wait a sec, kid!"
Vanellope was certainly not expecting to hear the man call after her. He sounds a little happier after having his belongings returned to him, but she's still fuming over the fact she wasted precious time on stealing a box from some hobo only to return it. And, what made her angriest of all, not getting any money, especially after not going on a run like this in a while.
She paused and looked over her shoulder to see that the man was jogging to catch up to her.
"Hey, kid. I don't know what has you all twisted, but I'll buy ya some ice cream to cool your head off with."
Vanellope frowns at the offer. "With what money? Aren't you forgetting that you're broke?"
He puckers his lips and casts his gaze down, embarrassed. "Well, I haven't gotten that far yet."
Vanellope can't help but crack a laugh at his antics. He's stupid and he reeks, but he's funny!
"See, kid, I made ya laugh. Anyways, you should scamper on home to your parents."
At the mention of her parents, a wave of pain rushes through Vanellope's body. She raises her cheeks and forcefully shuts her eyes: tears are threatening to rush out. He realizes his misunderstanding and tries to stammer out an apology.
"A-ah kid! I-I didn't know! I'm sorry! Look, that's twice the ice cream for you now! Please don't cry! I'm sorry!" Vanellope ignores his numerous apologies and tries to concentrate on calming herself down. Not noticing, the giant man continues trying to remedy the situation. "Look, I don't know if this helps, but like, I don't have my parents anymore, either!"
Vanellope immediately gazed up at him with her red, tear-filled eyes, "Really?"
"Yeah. I don't have family anymore. Ran away from 'em a long time ago."
Vanellope widens her eyes: he is like her.
"I… uh… ran away from my family too. Err, not my parents; I've never met them. I ran away from my orphanage 'cuz the people there were assholes. So now I've come to this city and just trying to survive in my little apartment."
The stocky man's face softened and he gives her a gentle smile.
"Hey, it happened to me too. My whole family treated me badly; they made me feel like dirt. And I would know what dirt is like!" he said, gesturing to his unwashed, filthy feet.
Vanellope lets out an soft, airy laugh. She has a lot more in common with this hobo than she would like to admit.
The man's face is contorted, deep in thought. "Actually, was that the reason why you tried to pickpocket me? You got no money?"
Vanellope gives a weak nod in reply.
"Well, I got no money either," the man points out. To prove his point, he turned all of his pockets inside out; lint and scraps of trash falls to the ground. "If we're talking about surviving, I'll say you've been doing a whole lot better than me! I don't even have a home!"
Vanellope looks the man up and down; he really is doing worse than her, if the grime and odor didn't give it away immediately. Maybe I can help him. He's just like me, she thought.
She gazes up at the sky. The sun is sinking below the horizon, dying the sky a warm orange. The sunset stretches shadows of buildings, making them twice as long. Soon, the sun will be laid to rest and the moon will rise to take its place, becoming the shepherd of the millions of stars in the sky. Soon, night will come.
It's so cold out here at night. I'll feel bad if he has to sleep in the streets, Vanellope thought to herself.
"Hey, how about you sleep in my apartment? Consider it an apology for stealing your stuff. I don't want you to sleep in the cold. But you HAVE to promise me that you will take a shower." Vanellope says.
The man balks at her; stunned at her offer. This is the first time anyone ever offered to help him, especially in this city. It feels strange to actually want to accept the help. Thinking about staying another night sleeping in one of the dingy alley ways the city had to offer was extremely unappealing.
"I mean. . . are you sure about that, kid?" he asks her.
Vanellope is gazing up at him. Though previously she had been scared of him, she really felt happy that she had chosen to rob him. She was, back in the orphanage, teased and tormented quite frequently. To find someone who related to that type of situation, and not having a family? It made her happy. . . happy to know that she wasn't alone. It made her feel like he wasn't dangerous, even if it was risky to let him stay at her apartment for the night.
But she couldn't just let him go, when they were both so similar. It wouldn't feel right.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Vanellope responds, and she's got that mischievous little grin on her face.
"Well. . . if you insist," he says, "but I think you're a little too easy to trust a stranger."
"You could say that. . ." Vanellope shrugs, "I've just got a good feeling about this."
The young girl started to walk, and her new friend started to follow. She looked over her shoulder, noticing that he was smiling a little. At the end of the day, both of them were still poor, but at least Vanellope would have someone at the apartment now, and it would feel less empty.
"Hey, what's your name?" Vanellope asks.
"It's Ralph," the man responds.
"Nice to meet you, Ralph. My name's Vanellope."
For the first time since she had fled the orphanage, she slept in the house without being alone. While she was inclined to not trust Ralph completely yet, he hadn't bothered her at all, which made her glad.
She wakes up around noon the next day, and it makes her feel a bit lazy, but considering she would be stuck in a death trap for five days a week starting in six days, she wasn't going to reprimand herself too much over it.
As soon as she's ready to get up, she leaves her room and stretches, yawning. She rubs at one eye when she notices that Ralph is already awake and roaming around in the kitchen.
"Wow, I can't believe it. There is a human below all of that dirt!" Vanellope says, cracking a grin.
Ralph glares over his shoulder as he looks through the cabinets, "Yeah, shocking, I know."
Vanellope practically bounces over, smirking, "What time is it?"
"Uh. . ." Ralph thinks for a moment. "I think it's almost noon."
"Oh!" Vanellope's eyes pop open in shock. She immediately grips at the sides of her head in a panic. The thought had completely slipped her mind—
There was a knock at the door, interrupting her from her thoughts. Her brown eyes immediately redirected themselves to the front door, and Ralph looks at her with a raised brow.
"Vanellope? I know you're awake." Avoice came muffledly from behind the door. Vanellope had to hold back a sigh, and she looks up at Ralph with an awkward smile.
"Just play it cool. It's the government service worker coming to check in on me." She says it so casually, that Ralph starts to nod until he realizes what she said.
"The government who?"
"I'm coming!" Vanellope calls to the door, and she glares at Ralph before adding, "Just be quiet and pretend you aren't here."
She makes her way over to the door a moment later, unlocking it and pulling it open.
"How are you doing today, Vanellope?" greets Surge: her government service worker.
Vanellope flashes him an innocent smile, "I'm doing great, Mr. Surge!"
The balding, middle-aged man steps inside as she closes the door, hoping that by some miracle he won't notice that Ralph is there.
Surge strolls around the apartment, occasionally stopping to examine something unimportant and jotting down a few words on his notepad. He makes his way to the kitchen, suddenly taking interest in the growing pile of dishes in the sink.
"So, Vanellope, I'm hoping you are finding comfort in your new pla—"
On the ground in front of him lays Ralph; he's crouching down and covering his head. Ralph glances up at Surge, and springs ups, hoping to explain himself. Ralph seemed to forget that he is almost seven feet, weighs the same amount as a stag, and looks like he can break a skull with just a punch.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! There's an intruder! Call 911!" shrieks Surge.
"There's no way you're gonna do that!" Ralph bellows. He wraps his hands around Surge's wrists in an effort to restrain him.
Vanellope still stands in the doorway, her face in her palms. "Dang it, Ralph," she grumbles under her breath. "Not the introduction I was hoping for."
After a few minutes of Vanellope explaining the situation, Surge started to come back down to Earth after his initial panic attack. He sat down on the couch after having requested Ralph to stay outside for the rest of his chat with Vanellope. The government worker sits there, rubbing his temple fervently, while Vanellope watches him nervously from her place on the other side of the couch.
"What were you thinking?" he asks in exasperation, readjusting his glasses as he stares over at the young teenager.
Vanellope shifts nervously under his death stare. It was clear there was disappointment in his face, and she knew she wasn't about to get off so easy. She had never, in her entire time of knowing him, heard him scream in such a girly manner. Maybe if the circumstances were different, Vanellope would've been rolling on the floor right now, holding onto her sides—but instead, she has to be dealing with the repercussions of a split-second decision she made yesterday.
"He's not bad, Mr. Surge. I know that he seems like some smelly hobo, but he's just like me."
Surge opens his mouth to respond, but closes it slowly as he processes her words. He looks back down at his notepad and starts to write something down, piquing Vanellope's interest. What was so interesting about the words she'd spoken?
"So because you related to. . . Ralph," he says the name in disdain, "who is a grown man. . . you, a sixteen-year-old girl, decided to let him stay with you in your apartment?"
Vanellope blinks, tilting her head slightly, "Wow, seems like you've got it down pat. Why's it so surprising?"
"Because it's not realistic, Vanellope," Surge heaves a sigh, clicking his pen against the notepad. "He absolutely cannot stay with you. He is not a parental guardian, he is a stranger."
"Well. . . well. . ." Vanellope fights with herself to find the right words to say, "I just thought it would be nice to have someone else around for a change. Is that so wrong?"
Surge's eyes widen slightly behind his glasses as he moves his stare from Vanellope to his notepad. He swallows a bit harshly, and Vanellope looks at him expectantly. Her brows are furrowed together now, and the edge of the couch is between her fingertips as she squeezes it.
"Now, Vanellope, you and I both know you had plenty of people around you at the orphanage—"
"No!" Vanellope immediately interrupts him, not allowing him to even finish the thought. "Those people were horrible to me. You know why I left, Mr. Surge, don't make me say it again."
Surge breathes a sigh through his nose, "Yes, I know why."
"So what, because I wanted to get away from those awful people, I have to live my life in solitude with no hopes of ever having a family, or even friends?" she questions. She is dead serious, Surge can tell by her expression. The other times that he had come by to check out her living situation, and to make sure she was okay, had gone far better than this. She seemed to be content with being alone, but even he had to admit that living alone at sixteen with no family was fairly bleak, and he can understand her frustrations.
"I understand. That isn't fair to you," he says, "but I must put my foot down. Your new 'friend' cannot stay here. It would be wrong of me to leave you alone with him, as it's unsafe. I would not trust someone off the street to stay in my own home, and you would be in danger if he keeps sleeping here. I must also point you to a better direction and tell you to make friends your own age."
Vanellope knows that Surge is just saying these things because it's his job. It makes her upset, but she just nods.
"Okay. . . you're right."
Surge blinks in surprise, but he smiles.
"I'm glad that you understand, Vanellope. Now, just let me handle this."
Vanellope looks on with dread as he approaches the door, where Ralph is waiting outside. Surge opens the door, ready to tell the homeless man the reality of the situation. But instead of being greeted by the towering man, there is no one outside.
Vanellope perks up, her jaw unhinging when she saw that Ralph had gone. Surge turns back to her, looking a tad relieved by this sudden turn of events.
"Well. . . that was more painless than I thought," he says aloud with a chuckle.
Vanellope on the other hand is not amused in the slightest—in fact, she's sad. She looks at Surge, who walks back over to her.
"I'll be on my way now, Vanellope. I'll come by again in two weeks to see how things are going at school. Hang in there, alright? And if you see that man again, you know my number. Don't hesitate in giving me a ring if you feel scared."
Vanellope's eyelids droop at this statement, but she gives a firm nod anyway. Surge gives her another smile before he heads back out the door, Vanellope following closely behind.
The two say their goodbyes to each other, and she shuts the door.
And for a moment, she stares at it, shocked that Ralph had actually disappeared. It makes her angry. He only wanted to use her for a place to sleep, to shower, to cozy up in and then run off. Her hands ball into fists at the mere thought of being used like that, and she starts cursing under her breath.
It isn't very long, however, until she hears another knock at the door. It seems urgent, and Vanellope feels herself bristling already. She had just seen Surge out, and now he is back?
She heads over to the door, frowning in irritation as she goes. With hesitation she opens the door, and she snaps, "Listen, Mr. Surge, I don't know what you're doing here again, but—"
Her eyes pop when instead of seeing the government worker, it's Ralph in the doorway. He's grinning, the space between his front teeth clearly showing.
"Hey, kid."
"Ralph! Where'd you go off to? I thought you left for real!" Vanellope says.
"Well, I couldn't help but overhear what that guy was saying, so I pretended I left."
Vanellope crosses her arms as she shuts the door behind her, and the friendly giant is once again in her apartment.
"For a sec, I thought you were just like every other hobo—that you used me and then vanished."
"Nope, I gotta tell ya, I'm not like a typical hobo. I might smell, but I wouldn't do that to ya."
Vanellope giggles in response. "Well. . . I'm happy to see that you're back. Gets a little quiet around here, you know?" she laughs a bit uncomfortably.
Ralph looks at her, and smiles.
"At least now it'll be a little less quiet."
"Hey, that sounds great and all, but I need quiet on school nights. And by the way, since you're staying here for free, you gotta respect everything I say, alright hobo boy?"
Ralph stares, unamused while Vanellope snickers.
Getting to know Ralph is going to be quite the entertaining experience for the young girl.
