Author's Note: I got way more follows and favorites than I thought I would! Thank you!
So, I've decided that this story will switch perspectives, so this from Anna's POV.
The scenes in italics are flashbacks. There will be lots of flashbacks in this story.
By the way, I don't agree with anything Hans says. I've had therapy, so I obviously don't agree.
I hope that you like it! :-)
"Hey Elsa!"
The blonde turns around and stares at me with her big blue eyes.
I pull out a piece of paper and scribble down my foster mom's home phone number. "Here," I smile and hand it to her. "If you wanted to keep in touch."
Elsa looks thoroughly surprised. "Th-thanks," She half-smiles.
"That's only if you want to call me, anyway," I add, now feeling awkward. "I didn't mean to be pushy."
"No," Elsa shakes her head. "You weren't being pushy. Thanks. I should probably get back to my mom. Thanks."
I wave to her as she walks away. Once she's gone, I slap my forehead. What made me think I'd actually made a friend?
"Hey Anna!"
I feel a stick hit the back of my head. "What?"
Hans smirks at me. "How was it in the psycho ward?"
"It's not a psycho ward!" I feel my cheeks heat up and I ball my fists. "It's therapy!"
"You know who needs therapists?" Hans questions. He points his finger at his head and starts making a circle with it, grinning.
"Shut up!" My voice cracks, and I feel the tears coming. "That's not true. Plenty of people need therapists."
"Whatever," Hans scoffs. He tosses the ball he was playing with at me and it hits my eye before I can move. "Ahh!" I hiss and clutch my eye.
Mrs. Westerguard, my foster mom and Hans' birth mom, comes out into the backyard at that moment. "What's going on? Anna, are you alright?"
Hans answers with fake alarm. "Anna and I were just tossing the ball around and she wasn't paying attention, so she missed the ball. Are you okay, Anna?"
I glare at him from between my fingers. "No."
"Do you want me to get you an ice pack?" Hans offers, still feigning innocence.
"No." I spit. I run up to my room and slam the door shut, allowing myself to cry.
"What's wrong?"
I jump when I hear Kristoff Bjorgman, another boy that Mrs. Westerguard is fostering. I frown. "Can't I get any privacy around here?!"
I'm about to storm off, but Kristoff says, "Hey, don't get mad at me."
I sigh. "I'm sorry, I know it's your room, too."
"That's fine," Kristoff responds, slowly making his way out of the room. "I don't really want to bother an emotional girl, so I'll just go."
I laugh a bit. "What do you mean by 'emotional girl?'"
"Um, I didn't mean to offend you," Kristoff assures, sounding slightly scared.
I chuckle. "You're funny."
"Thanks?" Kristoff replies unsurely.
Suddenly, I hear the phone ring from downstairs. Hope bubbles up inside of me. Could it be Elsa?
I rush downstairs, but a pit forms in my stomach when I see Hans talking on the phone. "You want to talk to Anna?" He questions. "Why would you want to talk to her?"
I run at him. "No, Hans! Give me the phone!"
Hans stands on his toes, making it harder for me to get the phone. "Oh, you're from Anna's therapy?"
"Hans!" I reach for the phone, but he walks away, still on his toes.
"Well, Anna told me that she's too busy to bother talking with you now," Hans lies, grinning at me.
"No!" I tackle him, trying to grab the phone. "Give it to me!"
"Agh! Get off of me!" Hans cries.
"Give me the phone!" I demand. I grab his wrist and, leaning towards the phone, say, "Elsa, I never said that!"
"Get off me, you nut!" Hans exclaims.
"Hans! Anna!" Mrs. Westerguard scolds. "What's going on?"
"I-I just answered the phone, but Anna wanted to answer it, so she tackled me!" Hans responds, ever so innocent.
"Mrs. Westerguard, that's not the whole story!" I sigh. "He was lying to my friend!"
Mrs. Westerguard shakes her head. "Please, don't argue. Just-just meet me in the family room. Anna, tell your friend that you can't talk right now."
Hans hands me the phone. "Here you go. You could've just said that you wanted it."
I stick my tounge out at him and put the phone to my ear. "Elsa, trust me; I didn't say a thing like that. I was just hoping you'd call me. That was a jerk, don't listen to him. El-Elsa?"
She doesn't respond.
"Elsa?"
I look at the small screen on the phone. Elsa hung up.
I groan and try to call her back.
"Hello, this is Idun Christian. I can't take your call right now, but-"
"Ugh!" I slam the phone back into its rack.
"Anna! Come on!"
I grudgingly head into the family room, ready to be lectured.
"So, why were you all alone out there?"
I fidgeted with something on the social worker's desk. "I got seperated from my parents."
"Anna, we both know that that's not true." The social worker sighed.
"I promise that it's true," I say, staring her straight in the eye.
"I have a file of all the times that you've run from your homes, Ms. Andersen," The social worker pulled out a manila folder.
I sighed. "Okay, maybe I ran away from my foster home, but it's true that I was separated from my parents. I never said that we were separated recently."
The social worker shook her head. "Why would you run away? Were your foster parents mean to you?"
"No," I replied. "But, I know that they weren't going to keep me. I suppose that I just wanted to find a place where I'm wanted."
The social worker's stressed face changes into a sympathetic one. "We'll find you a home, Anna. Eventually."
"Come on, pick up the phone," I mutter.
It's 10:36 p.m., and I snuck downstairs to call Elsa when everyone else was asleep.
"Hello?"
I perk up. "Ms. Christian?"
"Who's there?" Elsa's mom questions, sounding tired.
"I'm from Elsa's therapy. I'm Anna. Sorry to call so late, but-"
"Wait, are you a friend that Elsa made?" She interrupts.
"Yes," I reply.
"Say no more!" She then calls Elsa. "I didn't know that you made a friend!" I hear her say to Elsa.
"Hello?" Elsa asks meekly.
"Oh my goodness, Elsa! I am so so sorry! I did not say that I was too busy for you! That was Hans, my foster mom's jerky son! I wouldn't say a thing like that! Please don't believe a word he said to you! I didn't even think you'd call me, but then, you did and I was all excited but then Hans answered and ruined it!" I ramble.
"Oh, wow, Anna." Elsa sounds slightly shocked. "You're fine. Thanks for calling me back. I'm sorry that Hans took the phone from you."
I sigh in relief. "Thank you for understanding! I'm sorry I called so late, but I didn't want you to think that I hated you or something."
"I have to go to bed," Elsa says. "Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Yes, of course!" I grin from ear to ear.
When she hangs up, I pick up my stuffed snowman, Olaf, and swing him around excitedly. I tell him,"I have a friend, Olaf! For the first time in forever, I've been noticed by someone!"
