It was mid-Winter. We were up by the slopes on the Mountain side, per the norm, and Elsa was practising, again. I rarely get to really see her these days, let alone interact with her, she's always so caught up in her tryouts and competitions, she just never has the time.

I watch her from the distance of the Cafe window as she zooms down the slope, her slender body arched forward, her platinum braid flowing behind. That was something else about Elsa, her hair.

She has fine, long platinum hair. It used to be a more 'rich honey' shade, but she dyed it because it "Resembles the snow" as she had said, and I think she made the right choice, the colour really suits her, she looks even more beautiful-er.

My hair on the other hand; it's , "Copper-coloured" as my cousin Olaf had called it. It's thick and very difficult to tame, I wake up most mornings with an awful bed-head, it takes up to an hour to brush out the knots and tangles.

In a sense, yes, I guess you could say that I am slightly jealous of my older sister, but when you're the younger sibling of an international skiing superstar, it's very hard not to feel a little bit like a 'spare' in some senses.

Caught in a trance of amazement, I'd lost concentration of what I was actually doing, and, very accidently, I'd poured coffee onto the table.

"Hey!" The customer, a rather stout and, um, big-boned? Yes, I'll go with big-boned man, yelled, which was what alerted me to what I had done.

"Oh! I...I'm so sorry! Let me just..." I placed the coffee dispenser onto the table and began to clean the spillage with a cloth from my apron pocket, but being the clumsy self I am, I knocked the dispenser with my elbow and the rest of its contents splattered over the man's shirt.

"Ugh!" The man growled, glaring at me whilst attempting to rub away the stain with a napkin.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Here, let me-"

"No!" He snapped, shooing me away, "Just go, please."

I turned away and ran out of the Cafe.

So stupid, I thought to myself, Why do I have to be so careless and clumsy?!

I sighed, looking up to find Elsa amongst the slopes. She was at the bottom, surrounded by a group of friends and...and him. Oh, Elsa was so lucky to know him so well, Hans Westerguard. I've had a tiny crush on him since, well, forever.

"Anna?" A familiar voice distracts me from my thoughts, I turn to see my best friend Kristoff, with a concerned look on his face.

"Clyde said you ran out. Are you ok?" He asks, his brows knitted closely in a worried expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just needed some fresh air." I reassure him, smiling.

He smiles back, in relief I guess. He runs his hand over the back of his neck before saying, "Well, best be going back, you coming?"

"Yeah sure." I give the slopes one last glance before following Kristoff into the cafe.

"Elsa, she's my favourite, she's so talented!" I overhear someone's conversation as I begin to clear a cluttered table. How good it would be to hear someone say that about me, but, here I am, no talents, no tricks, unless you count the 'best coffee-spiller-saucer-smasher-cocoa-powder-over-pourer' as a talent, then yes, that's me.

As I finish polishing the table, the Cafe door opens and the familiar voices of Elsa and her friends begin to fill the room.

"Neat new tricks today, Els, you've gotta teach me those!" One of them, a slender, blonde girl smiles at Elsa, giddy with excitement and her brown eyes wide with amazement. She looks more the role of a biggest fan than a best friend.

"Of course I will Chelsea. Right everyone, what would you like? Drinks are on me!" Elsa announces, causing a swarm of chatter from the group around her. She turns towards me and smiles, a sweet friendly smile that catches me off guard.

It takes me aback, so I awkwardly return the smile and set back to work.

As I pile the empty mugs and saucers onto the tray, I glance back at Elsa, she looks happy, I guess, and who wouldn't be in her shoes? But yet, she seems a little sad.

After work, I return to the chalet.

Our family sort of claimed it's residence years ago when Elsa first started skiing, and we've lodged in it every time we come up to the mountains ever since.

"I'm home!" I call out as I enter the hallway and kick off my snow boots.

"Ok honey, dinners almost ready!" Mum responds from the kitchen. I remove my jacket before entering the dining room.

I remove my jacket before entering the dining room.

I find Dad sat by the table reading the newspaper, the cutlery and plates still in piles at the end of the table.

"Hey Dad, weren't you supposed to set the table?" I question and he looks up with a guilty expression.

"What was that?" Mum's voice echoes from the kitchen. It's almost a tradition in our family to set the table all neatly presented for dinner, well in Mum's eyes anyway, she says it looks 'sophisticated', not that I mind, you just don't really want to see her when someone doesn't set out the table.

"Nothing dear, Anna was just saying how nice the table was set out today!" Dad calls back before quickly setting out the plates and cutlery. I help him, giggling as he drops a fork and juggles a plate. Well, now I know where I inherited my clumsiness.

We finish the table in the neck of time as Mum walks in with roast chicken, Dad's favourite.

She places it in the middle of the table and examines the room.

"Where's Elsa?" She asks.

"Out practising of course, the tournament's in three days time, Idun, she can't waste a second!" Dad explains, a hint of competition in his voice.

"But she's got to eat, she better be back soon or you're going to go get her." She says, glaring at Dad and as if on cue, Elsa enters the room.

"Hey." She pants, catching her breath.

"Busy day, sweetheart?" Mum asks, walking towards her.

Elsa nods before taking a seat at the table.

"Ah well, keep up the good work, we're all proud of you." Dad praises her as he takes a portion of the roast.

I slowly take a seat slightly isolated from the others, lost in my own thoughts as I twirl my fork around the gravy.

"Anna!" Mum's voice startles me.

"Huh?" I look up to see a stern look on her face.

"Don't play with your food!" She chides, before resuming her conversation her with Elsa, "So, what were you saying Elsa?"

"Actually, I'm a little warn out, I might have an early night, long day of practising tomorrow, goodnight." Elsa excuses herself and leaves the room.

"Goodnight sweetheart." Mum calls after her.

"Goodnight my skiing champion!" Dad shouts proudly.

"Goodnight...Sis." I whisper, to myself.