Hey there, fellow readers! Here's my second story for viewers to enjoy. If you don't like the couple, it's all good just don't read it I suppose. This summer, I'll be balancing writing this and my other story, Warmth. If you want to read that, just go to my page. Hopefully, you will all like it. Oh, and by the way, this is an alternate universe fic.
Enjoy!
…
…
They say first impressions count and will have a long-lasting affect on the person you meet for the first time.
The first time I met Elsa?
I threw a whole box of pizza at her face.
…
…
"Anna, delivery time."
"…No."
"Anna, it's your turn."
I groaned and put my head on the counter, refusing to move from my spot. Olaf's Pizza Parlor was nearing closing time and I really didn't feel like driving anywhere else today for people to pay me a much lower amount of money because of my tardiness of two minutes and stuff their faces full of our pizza, which takes about thirty minutes of care and practice to make.
Yeah, not really a fan of the customers.
"I have the register. You go do it."
I don't wanna move.
"Correction: I actually have the register, you're just being difficult," Kristoff pointed out, proving his point by knocking his knuckles against the old cash register next to him. Unfortunately for him (and to my absolute glee), he hit the machine harder than he intended and it went crashing down to the ground with money and coins flying everywhere.
I grinned. "You know what? You're absolutely right. You have the cash register." I blew a raspberry at him.
Kristoff rolled his eyes at me and started picking up the money off the ground. We've been best friends since pretty much childhood, and interactions like these happen all the time. Near the end of our high school year, we needed money and weren't really equipped to go to college (as we're both orphans and could barely keep a job to pay for high school); we applied to Olaf's Pizza Parlor and immediately got the job. In the beginning, we were worried about our boss being all hard-assed and making us miserable; but as it turned out, Olaf was quite possibly the nicest person we've ever met on this planet.
And thus, we've now been working here for two years.
It's a pleasant, cozy little place, set up like the usual American-Italian theme. A bit small, and when crowded on Fridays (and by crowded, I mean twelve people, including myself and Kristoff), can be a mess, but it was a second home to me.
"So, are you gonna deliver the pizza or not?"
Hmm, pizza…wait, what?
"What?" I blurted out, startled out from my thoughts.
Kristoff was still on the floor cursing to himself as he scrounged around tables and chairs to collect all the little coins hiding from him. He came up, bumping his head I might add, and glared at me, as if I was the cause of it all.
I was, but I sure as hell wasn't going to admit that to him.
"I have the cash register. That means you have to go out and deliver," he pointed to the pepperoni pizza behind me, "that pizza."
I groaned again and put my head on the counter.
"But it's so hard," I whined. "None of the customers like me."
"Gee, I wonder why," he muttered.
I pouted at him. "Shut up."
"Hmmm…no."
"You're a terrible friend."
"And you're a terrible staller. Get moving, strawberry."
I pouted again. I hated when he called me that.
Just because I have red hair doesn't mean you get to compare me to red things.
I sighed and got up from my slouching position on the counter to grab the keys on the hanger. There was no way I was getting out of this now. I went to grab the pizza box and the little note on top of it. I frowned at the address before me, realizing I've never been to the area listed.
Where in the name of Godzilla is 163 Arendelle Drive? Is that even in this state?
"Kristoff," I called out. "I think we've got another fake address."
Kristoff grunted.
"Kristoff."
Grunt.
"Fake address."
Another grunt.
"Address of fakiness alert! Red alert! Red alert! Earth to Kristoff! Red alert! Fake address! Must stay behind counter until further notice!"
He finally looked up. "Quit stalling and go deliver the pizza. The directions are on the back of the note."
I turned the note around.
Shit.
"I hate you," I muttered, pizza box tight under my arm and car keys in check.
"Mmmhmm. Have fun."
"You are evil incarnate."
"I do enjoy playing the villain."
"You're just a big oaf."
Kristoff cast off an irritated glance my way. "You." He pointed at me. "Out." He pointed at the door. "Car." He pointed at the old pizza car in the parking lot. "Now." And he pointed back at me.
"Monkey. Eat. Banana," I said sarcastically, imitating a monkey dancing on my way out.
Behind me, Kristoff started pounding on his chest and made monkey sounds. "Monkey. No. Banana. Monkey. Eat. Pizza!"
I laughed and started the engine, a small grin on my face.
We're such goofs.
…
…
Fuck my life, where the fuck is this place?!
I grit my teeth, wondering if it was possible if I could get away with merging into the next lane to get in front of the slow driver in front of me. I looked at my side mirrors and saw a truck speed up in the other lane, blocking my way intentionally.
Dick.
I looked down at the paper again, making sure I had taken the right directions. It seemed I was going the right way, but 163 Arendelle Dr. hadn't come up yet. I slumped into my seat and glared at the probably now cold pizza sitting next to me.
"It's your fault I'm stuck in traffic to begin with," I said, blaming the pizza. "The person who ordered you had better appreciate you." I froze.
Oh shit! The customer!
"Great," I sighed, resting my head on the wheel. "Not only am I twenty minutes late, but the pizza is gonna taste crappy. I'm lucky if I even get paid for the pizza, much less receive a tip."
Finally, as the traffic cleared up (how the hell does a car get stuck in a tree?), 163 Arendelle Dr. finally made its appearance and I found myself turning into a quiet neighborhood amongst rather expensive houses. I gawked as I drove further into the neighborhood, my mind boggled by the sheer size of some of the houses/mansions.
Who the hell am I delivering to, the Queen of England?
As I turned to my left to look at more houses, I noticed an address number identical to the one on the note. I felt a little relieved as the house was small and quaint, and looked similar to other houses I had delivered to, rather than the excessive mansions surrounding it. I turned into the driveway, nervous with anticipation of how the customer would respond.
Calm deep breaths. At least you know the customer can't murder you. I chuckled nervously. Unless the customer is actually a serial killer, then that certainly changes things. Oh, what a nice lawn this person has. Maybe I should compliment them on their commitment to their grass. I smacked a hand on my forehead. Or I could not sound like a complete dork, that works too...
I rung the doorbell, and nearly took off running when I heard movement on the other side of the door.
A rather nice door too. Oh, the wood is so nice. Maybe I can tell them that. Your wood looks nice. Oh God, but what if it's a guy! No, I shouldn't be saying that anyway! Crap, why am I so awkward!
"Who is it?" Asked a light, soft voice.
I sighed in relief. Female. That means maybe I'll receive some pity and just might get paid.
That or I get cussed out and a door slammed in my face.
Well, here goes nothing.
"Pizza delivery!"
There was a slight pause. Then, I heard the click of a lock being turned and I braced myself for the incoming storm.
I could and would have never braced myself for the storm this woman would turn in me. My mouth hung blatantly open in shock.
Sweet Jesus, I am in the presence of a goddess.
My mind was in shambles. Most of what I could decipher from it was, Blonde. Blue. Eyes. Pretty. Gorgeous. Want. Umph.
A platinum blonde-haired beauty stood before me wearing cute little white shorts and a blue sweater with small ice patterns on it that hung loosely over her slim body. Her blonde hair was made up into a braid, though loose strings of hair fell in front of her lovely heart-shaped face. Icy, cerulean eyes (oh God, her eyes) peeked from behind the confinement of the door to look curiously into my own teal ones. She quirked a perfectly arched eyebrow at me, pearly white teeth tugging gently on soft, red lips. I felt my face heat up at her gaze.
Oh God, she's looking at me! Abort mission abort! You cannot handle the pure gorgeousness that is this woman! I repeat, abort mission! Abort abort abort!
"Hi," she greeted tentatively, biting her lip.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Uh," I responded intelligently.
Dammit, Anna! Pull yourself together!
Her eyes looked behind me for a second before settling on me once again, this time confused.
"Pizza delivery?"
I stopped breathing.
Oh God.
"Oh crap!" I started, words tumbling out of my mouth hopelessly. "Is this the wrong house? You didn't order, did you? Oh, I'm so sorry for troubling you! You were probably busy, and now you're talking to me, though I don't really mind, it's just that I'm awkward, really it's me, not you, you're gorgeous—wait, what?"
My eyes widened at my blunder.
OH GOD.
I started waving my hands in panic. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that! Well, ok, I did, because you are gorgeous, wait, no, yes, um…" I trailed off, another hot flush on my face.
Stop you idiot! You are literally incapable of normal conversation.
The woman gave a small, embarrassed smile (Holy shit, her smile could kill angels), an attractive, small blush forming on her face as well.
"Um, no this is the right house," she corrected gently.
I exhaled.
"It's just, um…where's the pizza?"
Shit!
I made a quick jerky movement, startling her as she reared back in surprise. "OH CRAP!" I cried out, grabbing onto the blue cap on my head. "I'm so sorry, I'll be right back!"
I dashed to the car and opened the door to get the pizza. I felt like dying on the spot as the goddess at the door watched on in confusion (Probably thinks you're an idiot. And guess what? She's right! You're an idiot, idiot!) as I scrambled with clammy, shaking hands to retrieve the pizza box. After several attempts, I finally had a hold on it and grasped it triumphantly.
I walked back over to her, feeling subconscious and ashamed that I was about to give her cold, inedible pizza. If I had looked down (or if this had just been another random, unattractive customer), I would have noticed the porch step coming up.
I did not.
My foot caught the edge of the step, throwing me off balance, and I tripped, hands flailing wildly.
Unfortunately, the pizza that had once rested peacefully in my hand now flew high up in the air.
As I tumbled ungracefully to the ground, I was aware that I had most definitely messed up big time and hoped that the pizza had just simply landed on the ground.
It hadn't.
I looked up, terror in my face as I realized that the pizza had landed indeed.
All over the beautiful goddess.
Tomato sauce dripped from her hair. Cheese and pepperoni decorated her clothes. She stood there, frozen in shock, still processing what just happened.
Kill me now. Seriously, someone just stab me in the face.
I jumped up and ran over, eyes wide in panic. "Oh no! Oh, I'm so very sorry! Oh my god, I'm such a screw up! Um, here," I stammered as I handed her napkins to clean herself. She took them absently, still computing the fact that I had just threw a whole pizza pie at her. I began digging in my pockets to fish out a couple of coupons. "Take these! Free pizzas if you call for our services again, if ever, because holy crap I just threw a pizza at you, I'm so sorry!" I covered my face with my hands, eternally mortified and embarrassed beyond belief.
Silence fell between us, and I was ready to high tail it out of there when…
She laughed.
I swooned inside at the sound of it. Nothing could sound as sweet and pure as her laugh.
I peeked out of the corners of my fingers. Her shoulders were shaking slightly and she had a delicate hand covered over her mouth, blue eyes twinkling in mirth.
Damn. Even when covered from head to toe in pizza ingredients, she looked beautiful.
"It's fine, really," she assured me, giving me a gentle smile that had me on cloud nine. "These old things," she said, gesturing to her outfit, "needed a good wash anyway. As for the pizza, I was actually contemplating canceling my order, so no harm done."
"Oh good," I replied, wiping my brow. "The pizza was cold and soggy anyway. Still," I added, giving her an apologetic smile, "I didn't mean for it to get all over you. I'm sorry." I scratched the back of my neck nervously and looked away.
She chuckled and threw a stray pepperoni from out of her braid. "It's fine, really. I should be the one saying sorry for not calling off my order." Her eyebrows drew together. "I'm sorry you had to drive all the way over here. Here, let me at least pay for it." She moved to retrieve her wallet.
"Wait!" I cried out, hands outstretched. "Um, no, no! No need to pay me! I mean, I got pizza all over you. Really, you don't have to!" I let out an embarrassed laugh. "Besides, meeting you is definitely enough compensation for me."
I mentally slapped myself as my words sunk in. Why don't you write her a love ballad, why don't you? Holy crap, you are an idiot!
At my words, however, she merely tucked a small piece of her hair back behind her ear (She's adorable!) and timidly averted her eyes from my (creepy) gaze.
"Right," she coughed, probably feeling as awkward as I did at the moment. "Um, I need to go."
My heart sank.
Upon seeing my slightly crestfallen expression, she quickly explained, "It's just, my outfit, and it's a little chilly out, and I need to wash…"
"Oh…oh!" I said, finally catching on. "Right, you need to, um, yeah," I mumbled, gesturing to her whole body. "Again, I'm really sorry. Um, the offer still stands. Free pizza and free delivery. I mean, if you're up for that, I know I kinda botched the order and all, so you may never want our services ever again, but it would be nice if you called us. Because, yeah, um…yeah," I ended lamely.
She smiled brightly at me, her eyes lighting up (my world). "Free pizza does sound promising."
"Oh?"
Oh! She's still a potential customer!
Score!
"Oh cool! That's great!" I said happily, giving her a wide grin. "Yeah, so I just need your name and number so we stay in contact." I blushed, realizing how desperate it made me sound. "Um, that is, the company needs your number. I, specifically, don't need it, I mean, I want it, but—"
Shut up Anna. Seriously, shut up. For once, I actually complied with my brain and quickly closed my mouth.
I pulled out a pen and paper from inside my shirt pocket and gave it to her. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when our fingers made contact, creating a pleasant jolt of electricity up my arm.
When she was done writing down her number, she handed it back to me, gave me a small wave and smile, and quietly went back into her house, closing the door behind her.
I stared at the small paper in my hand and memorized her name.
"Elsa, "I whispered to myself with a stupid grin etched on my face.
