9. Evasion

For Anna, it's like her entire world has lit up all at once. Every cell in her body has aligned itself with Elsa and the cheekbones brushing against her own and the hands in her hair. The last time they kissed, she had been too stunned to do much other than choke, and then Elsa panicked, fled their room and spent the next three years avoiding her like the plague.

This time will be different if Anna has to bang both their heads against a rock. Which is exactly happens as she tries to flip them over, massaging Elsa's lower lip with her tongue.

"Mmph."

"Are you ok—"

"Don't stop," Elsa gasps against her mouth, pulling her under the waves again.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. Anna doesn't think she can stop. Her hips jerk erratically against Elsa's, the hem of her sister's dress catches on her knee and she can feel the fabric riding up, exposing undulating, thrillingly warm legs. One or both of them is moaning between kisses, and Anna's brain is having a stroke. Everything's so hot.

Desperate for a little distance, Anna's tongue goes exploring down the side of Elsa's neck. It's probably too much too soon, but Anna can't bring herself to care with this body shuddering underneath her.

For Anna, this the ultimate proof that her love is requited, a tonic for her flagging devotion. After so many years of rejection, this is Anna's prize, acknowledgement of their shared desire.

She has no idea what this is to Elsa.

Because when she fuses their lips together a second time, she feels something wet against her cheekbones, and Elsa can't seem to stay in the kiss. She keeps breaking away and exhaling these violent, breathy sobs, and Anna stops before she fully realizes that Elsa is crying.

"Hey," she murmurs, running her hands through Elsa's hair, "it's alright." Anna's not sure what, precisely, is alright, but she's determined that everything will be alright through sheer force of will if necessary. Curling up, Elsa turns away from her and in on herself. Anna tries to pry her open again, back into her arms, but Elsa won't have it. She knocks Anna's arms away clumsily.

"Don't—" she snaps, voice quavering. "Don't touch me. Please."

Now Anna is crying too, partly because she's always been a sympathetic crier, partly because she can't stand the sight of Elsa's distress, and mostly because this fresh rejection is more than she can take.

"Elsa, please," she says through the thickness in her throat. "Let's talk about this."

Elsa doesn't hear her, fingers tugging at her own hair, chanting almost catatonically, "I can't. I can't. I can't."

From some angle, in someone's twisted storybook, Anna imagines, they must look hilarious. Two teenage sisters bawling their eyes out like babies in the middle of the woods. Probably picking up deer ticks by the dozen. The little bit of Anna's brain that can detach itself from her emotions orders her to dry her tears because this is ridiculous.

There's still no sign that either of them will be coherent enough to work things out any time soon.

The rain starts falling. Anna seizes it as an excuse to at least get Elsa moving.

"Come on. Please, get up. We have to go home."

"I can't. I can't. I can't."

She almost can't hear Elsa over the gush of rain. "Yes, you can. Stop saying that, Elsa. You're scaring me."

Thunder again, like logs tumbling down the mountainside. In the distance, lightning flashes. It's an alarm siren for Anna. Get out of the woods, you idiot. Galvanized by purpose, she wipes the tears and rain from her eyes and reaches for Elsa's shoulders. "Let's go, Elsa. Come on."

Elsa shrugs her off. "I can't."

"We have to go home, Elsa!" She shouts this time, over the wall of rain and thunder.

"I'm never going back. I can't do it anymore."

"Elsa, we're going home!" Some barricade of patience collapses in Anna, and she wrenches Elsa up to her feet. "Quit being a moron and walk!" She hates this, hates seeing the weakness in Elsa, hates watching her crumble. They are going to get into the fucking car and work this out like normal, rational people.

Like normal, rational sisters who lust after each other.

Anna's already made up her mind. No turning back now.

A few yards into the trees, Elsa staggers back into herself, twisting out of Anna's grasp and striding down the path head bowed. Anna lets her. She feels like she's getting whiplash. Elsa needs her for years, suddenly finds her self-confidence, then kisses her, then pushes her away, then gets a boyfriend, starts acting normal with Anna again, kisses her again, and pushes her away. Again.

No wonder Anna's so messed up.

And exhausted and wet and not sure whether she should be admiring her sister's curves in that soaked dress, and if she shouldn't, what the reason for holding back for is anymore. The rain saps her strength and determination.

Elsa pauses at an intersection with no sense of where they came from. Anna trudges past her, wordlessly, onto the left fork, hearing the squelch of Elsa's shoes behind her. Let her sister figure out whether to gape at her for once.


For the next three days, Anna broods and mopes and glowers and occasionally pretends to be a normal teenager for her parents' sakes. After they return home the night of Elsa's birthday, she escapes into the shower, deciding to let Elsa explain how her birthday celebrations went to their curious parents.

Kristoff asks if she wants to hang out. She ignores his texts until they take on a faintly hysterical tone. Merida and Rapunzel start blowing up her phone. Even Eugene gets in on it.

Hey fiestypants, yru makin ur hubby sleep on the couch?

Anna's reply is the same to all of them. Busy. Not now.

If Anna were actually a normal teenager dealing with unrequited love, she'd probably hide in her room, but as an almost-normal teenager dealing with unrequited, non-platonic love for her sister whom she happens to share a room with, it's not exactly an option.

What's more messed up is that she can't quite figure out if she should call it "unrequited" or "requited but not acknowledged"—which is far too many syllables—or just "screwy." It's not even clear who's avoiding whom anymore. Anna wakes up ridiculously early every morning to eat breakfast and brush her teeth, waits until Elsa is out of their room to put on clothing, and generally attempts to be anywhere her sister is not. Which is surprisingly easy since Elsa holes up in the garage, or drives down to Weselton to meet Mr. Geppetto...or hangs out with Hans.

Anna doesn't even have the energy to care anymore.

That's a lie. Anna cares so fucking much. But she doesn't have the energy to chase after Elsa, humiliate herself, expose her desperation and vulnerability, only to get absolutely nowhere. Not even nowhere. Backwards. Elsa was at least talking to her at the beginning of the summer. Now they don't even look at each other.

Anna feels like she might suffocate.

Their parents are getting suspicious.

"How was your day, Anna?" her father asks kindly over spaghetti.

"Fine."

"What did you do?"

"Not much."

Elsa moves noodles around her plate.

Their mother snorts. "Maybe you should get a job."

Normally, Anna would be offended, but it's almost starting to sound like a good idea.

On the weekend their parents set off for a dinner-reception-fundraiser-thing in Weselton to support one of their father's friends in the mayoral elections. Usually, Anna is grateful not to be dragged off to political functions, and thankful that her father doesn't hold an elected position, but right now she'd like nothing better than to be a forty-minute drive away from Elsa.

Restlessly, she flips to another television channel, irked by the sound of buzzing from the garage. She grinds her teeth, mashing a button on the controller. A month ago she would have been comforted by the reminder of Elsa's presence, only one wall away. As it stands, she thinks it makes the perfect soundtrack to the torture chamber of her life.

It also is effective audio camouflage for the red Corolla rolling into the driveway.

"ANNA THERESE ARENDELLE!"

Shrieking, Anna lunges off the sofa, trips on the coffee table and flops onto the carpet. "What the hell, Rapunzel?"

"There you are! You're not busy! You're watching a freaking cupcake reality show instead of hanging out with your friends!" Rapunzel's chest heaves like a raging bull's.

"So what?" Anna groans, rubbing her bruised shins.

"So now you have no choice. I don't know why you've been dodging all of us for the last three weeks, but this ends now."

Sometimes Anna thinks that all those theater productions get into Rapunzel's brain a little too much. She opens her mouth to speak, but her cousin gets there first.

"And don't you dare tell me you can't because I know your parents are out of town tonight, and clearly you have no plans, unless it's with a sketchy boyfriend you don't feel comfortable introducing to your friends, in which case that is like a flashing-neon-warning-sign to break up with him immediately—"

"Rapunzel! I don't have a sketchy boyfriend." Or an illegal girlfriend, as the case may be.

"Good." Rapunzel crosses her arms. "Now are you sure?"

"Yes! I'm sure," Anna snaps.

Rapunzel continues her speech as if Anna's mouth never moved. "Because I won't judge you if you do, you just have to break up with him right now."

"Why are you so convinced that I have a boyfriend?"

"Why else are you being so secretive and kicking Kristy to the curb?" another voice responds. She didn't even notice Eugene coming in.

"That's right," Rapunzel declares. "So break up with him now."

"Anna's breaking up with someone?" Elsa stomps into the entryway of the living room, covered in ice dust and wearing thick work gloves and her single pair of tattered pants. Anna wonders what happened to those jeans.

"I'm don't have a boyfriend," Anna snaps, forgetting that she and Elsa are on a strict no communication policy.

When her sister pulls the clear goggles off her face, they leave red lines against the pale skin around her eyes. Usually Anna finds this endearing, but right now she wants to tell Elsa how stupid she looks.

"You can tell us if you can do—" Rapunzel starts.

"She doesn't. I would know." Elsa turns towards the kitchen, ever the gracious hostess. "Would you guys like some water? I think we have some soda somewhere."

"Some Coke would be—"

"We don't have time for that, Eugene," Rapunzel breaks in. "We have to leave like right now."

"You're going? Right now? Thank god." Anna sighs and sinks back into the sofa.

"You're coming with us."

"Wait, what?

"We're leaving. Now. With you."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Mean cousins who ignore their friends for weeks at a time aren't entitled to that sort of information."

"This isn't a spy movie." She glances over at her sister, who watches their interactions blankly. Either she could play along with whatever adventure Rapunzel and Eugene have planned or she could sit and ignore Elsa for another night. "You know what? Fine. Let's go."

Surprise spreads across Rapunzel's face. "Really?"

Her boyfriend looks significantly more disappointed. "Aw. So we won't need the handcuffs?"

"Handcuffs?" both Arendelle sisters echo, aghast. A blush rises in Elsa's cheeks. Immediately, Anna is arrested by the thought of Elsa and handcuffs, and it is not an okay thought to be having while her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend are in the room.

"Pretend you didn't hear that," Rapunzel sniffs, thwacking Eugene in the back of the head.

"Ow. What was that for?" he whines, rubbing the back of his skull.

Rapunzel brushes off his complaint. "Well, great. Let's go. We're definitely going to be gone for at least a few hours so you'll have the house to yourself, Elsa. Don't worry, we'll get her back before your parents. See you on the 4th!"

"Uh, right. Bye, Rapunzel, Eugene." A pause in which Anna struggles to put on shoes while Rapunzel is tugging her out the door. "Have fun, Anna."

Startled, Anna looks up and nearly topples over, but Elsa's already turned away, shuffling towards the garage.


It's weird because they're at the mall, but walking in the opposite direction of the arcade. Anna hopes to god that they're not going shopping because she hates shopping almost as much as Eugene does, and she's pretty sure that the only money she has on her is the twenty her father handed for pizza before she left that evening.

Maybe she should call Elsa to let her know that she has the money, but chances are her sister won't even think of eating dinner. Maybe that's another reason to call Elsa, to remind her to eat something. But Anna can't bring herself to unlock her phone and do it. Besides, there are leftovers in the fridge.

Meanwhile, Eugene and Rapunzel ply her with food, clearly determined to make sure she enjoys herself. For their sake, and to her own relief, she lets herself be swept up in the crowds and the bustle. It's such a relief to be out of the house. She doesn't know why she didn't do it sooner.

They grab pretzels and make their way to the mall center where Rapunzel says they're meeting up with Merida. Eugene doesn't say much of anything, absorbed in what must be a truly profound texting conversation on his phone. To her surprise, Rapunzel leaves him alone, and Anna figures whatever it is must be important. As they approach, Anna notices that there's some sort of platform in the center.

"They've got an open mic night happening," Rapunzel announces cheerfully. Come on. Let's get some decent seats."

From the front row Merida waves frantically at them, waves of hair bouncing. "Hurry up!" she shouts over the girl singing at the microphone. Immediately she is shushed by five different people.

Rapunzel drags her through the crowd, deposits her in the empty seat that Merida has saved in the first row and then disappears.

"Where are you going?" Anna hisses, but Merida grabs the top of her head and rotates it toward the stage. "Kristoff?" She gapes in disbelief. "What is Kristoff doing up there? With his ukulele?"

"Shut your face for a second and listen."

"Hi." Kristoff says into the microphone. "I'm not really a performer or a musician really. Um. But I've kind of got something I want to say, so just bear with me. I'll only take a minute of your time."

He spots Anna and Merida in the front row and give them a nervous twitch of his lips. Anna smiles and waves encouragingly. She's heard Kristoff play the ukulele and the guitar before. He learned from his father and never had much of an interest in playing anything other than old country songs and stupid couplet he made up on the fly, but maybe he's decided he wants to start a band or something. "Good luck," she mouths.

"Reindeers are better than people," he sings. Anna rolls her eyes indulgently as some of the crowd chuckles. Most seem perplexed, but not in a mean-spirited way.

"I always thought that was true."

At least Kristoff has a nice voice, and he doesn't ruin it by trying too hard to sound intense or breathy.

"But I've known you so long, and I can say in this song, that no one is better than you."

Oh god, he's turned it into a love song. It's so cheesy Anna almost feels bad for him. Sweet, but cringe-worthy.

"You always smell better than reindeers."

Someone needs to give Kristoff advice on song lyrics before his next performance. Groaning under her breath, Anna resolves to have a heart to heart with him.

"You're prettier than the autumn leaves."

At least that one isn't half bad. Though it seems totally out of place.

"Kinder than nurses. Sweeter than roses."

Kristoff stares directly at Anna. Snickering and shaking her head, she gives him a thumbs up.

"Won't you come see a movie with me?"

A smattering of applause breaks out.

Pulling the microphone a little closer, Kristoff clears his throat. The look he keeps giving Anna is getting a little weird. Merida is perched at the edge of her seat, grinning maniacally. Anna knows something must be up. her gaze darts between Merida and Kristoff. Kristoff is still staring at her. It couldn't be.

No.

He brushes his bangs from his eyes and speaks haltingly. "So, uh, Anna, will you be my girlfriend?"

Collectively, the crowd sighs, "Aw," and cheers. Kristoff beams. Somewhere, behind her, Rapunzel is screaming her head off for Anna to go up there and kiss him.

Anna is frozen to her seat. Merida yanks her up, shoves her towards the stage. Kristoff reaches a hand down to help her up, and maybe Anna's been spending too much time with Elsa lately because she can only think of one thing to do.

She runs.


Three escalators and a twelve turns later, Anna is thoroughly lost. Luckily, the mall is filled with signs pointing to half a dozen exits, but Anna doesn't know which one she would even go to. Her phone buzzes again, texts, calls, even emails from Merida, Rapunzel and Eugene crowding her lock screen. She flinches, and for the first time in seven month turns the thing fully off.

Kristoff.

Why did he have to go and do this? He's Anna's old reliable, her partner in Pokémon games and pointless adventures. He's simple, transparent, a comforting summer breeze in the midst of Elsa's cold inscrutability. She thought he found their friends' insistence that they were soulmates as ridiculous as she does. But apparently she misread him. She forgot that everyone has layers and secrets. Even Kristoff.

She doesn't have her car with her. She can't go home with Rapunzel and face the inevitable question: why? Her parents are out of town and at a fancy dinner function. The last thing she wants to do is call Elsa. So Anna ducks into a department store, biding her time. Eventually, she'll cave and call Rapunzel and head home completely stone-faced under the barrage of questions, but until then, maybe something here will distract her.

Mostly, she just remembers why she hates department stores. The smell, the lighting, the racks and racks of clothes that Anna doesn't know where to start with. Losing Elsa in the furniture section. The only person who made department stores fun was Ella Cinders and her ability to talk her way in and out of any purchase. She chatted up store clerks, danced through the changing rooms, and compared and contrasted tops, prices, and shoes like a general reviewing his troops and supply lines.

The nostalgia brings an unexpected smile to Anna's face. Utterly bored with the jungle of clothing, she wanders into the home décor section. She pauses, lingering over bowls and canisters far longer than necessary, grateful for something to occupy her hands and eyes. Her eyebrows twitch at the snail baskets, and she snorts at statuettes of frogs playing poker.

But it's the colorful—in more ways than one—wall hangings that actually end up taking her mind off of the insanity of her life. I want to be the person my dog thinks I am. Keep calm and go get Mom. I am silently correcting your grammar. Dear Karma, I have a list of people you might have missed. For the most part, Anna rifles past the genuinely heartfelt messages. The best Mom in the world lives here. Dance like no one is watching. So lucky to have known someone like you. Anna's had enough heartfelt emotion for the rest of her life. It feels good just to chuckle.

"Miss, we're closing in fifteen minutes."

Nodding her thanks to the store associate, she turns back to the display rack. Her hand stills over a square frame in blue. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

An old memory flickers: Elsa, stubborn as a mule, insisting no, this is not a love poem.

She never did get her sister a birthday present. Her hands are shaking, but before she knows what she's doing, she scoops up the wood-framed sign and hurries to the checkout, fingers fumbling in her pockets for that twenty dollar bill. This her chance, maybe, to talk to Elsa, to figure out this craziness between them, to seize their happily ever after.

"Anna?"

Disconcerted, she looks up into a pair of surprised blue eyes. "Ella? You work here?" It's Ella Cinders, all right, dressed conservatively in black and white with a little gold tag on her chest.

With an awkward smile, she bobs her blond bun up and down. "Uh, yeah. Do you want me to ring that up for you?"

"Sure," Anna says feeling like the world has just slapped her upside the head.

"How've you been?" Ella asks as they march towards the sales counter.

"Good. You?"

"Same old, same old. Gosh, it seems like we haven't talked in forever. Isn't Elsa going to college this year? Where's she going?"

"Weselton. Um, how's your father?"

"Same old, same old," Ella repeats, rolling her eyes impishly.

"Any chance I could get that wrapped?" Anna says swiftly before Ella can start another line of conversation.

"Of course." Ella pulls a roll of wrapping paper out from under the counter. "You want a card too?"

"You have those?"

"Sure. For an extra dollar fifty. Happy birthday, congratulations, or generic?"

"Happy birthday."

"Elsa's?" Ella asks knowingly.

Suspicious, Anna stammers, "How do you know?"

Ella snickers as she retrieves a mostly plain, white greeting card with the name of the department store printed across the front. The words "Happy Birthday!" are more of a byline than anything else.

"I was your best friend in middle school. I know these things."

Anna flips the card open, at a complete loss as to what to write. "God, middle school," she mutters, buying herself some time.

"Yeah, middle school. I was such a little bitch in middle school."

Anna chokes on the air in shock. "What? Um-wait. What did you say?"

Laughing at Anna's sudden discomfiture, Ella rolls her eyes again. "You know what I said, and you know it's true. Whatever. You were always too nice for your own good. Done with that card yet?"

Still staggered by Ella's offhanded admission, Anna dazedly scribbles:

Dear Elsa,

Happy birthday!

Love,

Anna

It's probably the most underwhelming card Elsa will ever receive but at least it's done.

"Here."

Ella tapes the card to the top of the package and smiles at Anna. "We should catch up some time. Who knows where we'll be next year? I'll give you my number."

"Uh, right. That sounds good." To Anna's surprise, it actually does sound good. This more mature Ella seems down-to-earth and friendly and tolerable. It's not like she's going to be talking to Kristoff any time soon. She pulls out her phone to take Ella's number and then sheepishly remembers that it's still powered off. "Actually. Take mine."

"Okay. I'm getting off in a couple minutes. Want to walk with me to the parking lot? Assuming we're in the same parking lot."

Anna wonders if Rapunzel's even in the mall any more. She should text her to let her know she's okay. Anna doesn't.

"Actually, you think you could give me a ride home?"

"Sure."


So much shorter than the last couple of chapters. Partly because I think we're done with the flashbacks, so I no longer have to tell two stories in each chapter, and partly because I've been pretty distracted. This chapter covers a decent amount of ground so I'm cutting it off here.

On a not unrelated note, those of you who have read the one-shot Dream Girl (if you haven't feel free to ignore the next paragraph) and believed me when I said that it was over, well, I'm a dirty liar. I've written 5000+ words for it since and I plan on updating it some time within the next week. There will probably be three chapters in all.

As for how long this story goes, I'm thinking we'll probably hit twenty chapters. Hopefully I can work this out by then.

My version of the school system Anna and Elsa attend is as follows.

Elementary: Grades 1-5. Middle: Grades 6-8. High Grades 9-12.