Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm a sucker for your reviews! Also, I'm very sorry for the delay of this chapter. Depression can be a bitch sometimes, and I needed to be in the right state of mind for this... I hope you enjoy this one. It's by far the longest one I've written.
Characters belong to Disney.
The date: 7th of May. Two weeks before graduation.
The place: South of Houston Street. The hood where cobblestone streets are the norm and high-end independent boutiques set the backdrop of fashionable crowds and out-of-towners that rain a few thousands on a single shop. The epitome of stylish, where both men and women stroll the main streets with designer bags that have either been purchased at their own designated emporium, or at the backroom of a dumpling-smelling shop in Chinatown.
At the heart of this cluster of blocks, right on the corner of Broadway and Prince Street, a woman wearing a silken hijab smacks her kid on the head with an oversized Banana Republic shopping bag when she turns around to hail a cab. She appears indignant for a second, thinking somebody must be invading her personal space and, most importantly, touching her belongings. She is relieved to see it's just her son before she cradles his head and pulls him closer to her skirt-clad legs.
Inside the store in front of which she stands, a redhead, a blonde and a brunette scan several racks of dresses. Some are floral, for Spring (groundbreaking). Quite a few have risky palettes and even riskier cleavages. Some are knee-length, others are worthy of a night at the Globes. Anna skims through them absentmindedly, glancing at most of them only once and taking a second look at a few. She's looking for sophisticated yet jaw-dropping, like the blonde chick standing next to her wearing a button-up blouse tucked inside tight black jeans. Distracting. Awfully distracting. Then Oh là là, she thinks, there's this one and it is extra mignonne. It is soft to the touch, and the light coral fabric falls easily from her fingers as she runs them down the dress. Does she have heels to match, though? She might need heels for this... what colors would go well? And how much is it anyway—
"FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS?"
Elsa stares alarmed at the back of her girlfriend's head. Anna turns around. "Four thousand dollars?" She repeats in a squiggly whisper.
"Anna, we're in SoHo."
"Ohmygod why did we have to come here?"
"Cause you wanted to?" Rapunzel retorts from behind her cousin.
Anna checks another price tag, maybe the one she just saw was an extraordinary exception—$5,400.00 and it's on sale—she feels faint.
"Didn't your parents say you could get anything?" Rapunzel asks.
"Well, yes but you see these prices, right? It's too much. I don't wanna splurge. That's an abuse of power I couldn't live with."
Elsa looks at her amusedly. "And yet, you chose SoHo, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city."
"I still have hopes, okay? There's gotta be something in here that won't make me feel indebted to my parents for the rest of my life."
"Dude, they pay your tuition in full. What's a dress gonna do?"
Anna can feel her expression turn more and more into one of those anime cartoons she used to watch as a kid. The mortified one, with the shadowy background and those big blank eyes.
"Maybe we could try another store?" Elsa tells her while her hand goes to tickle down Anna's forearm. It's a gesture meant to appease her, so Anna pouts, looking to raise the stakes. Maybe if she starts crying Elsa will kiss her.
She kisses her anyway, without having to shed a single tear, and Anna is content once more. Kind of. She still has to find a dress that doesn't cost more than a small intestine on the black market. Of course, she doesn't say this out loud because Elsa doesn't have to know how she knows it. She was bored once, that's all anyone needs to know.
They leave the store and continue walking south Broadway until they make a right turn towards Mercer Street. The road is significantly less chaotic and Anna's hopes of finding a decently priced dress are renewed.
"I still can't believe a dress could cost that much." Anna is shaking her head. She loves clothes but damn, they can be mad expensive sometimes.
"I don't think we would have found the right dress in there," Rapunzel says. "I saw they were selling a Bluetooth beanie for a hundred bucks."
"What's a Bluetooth beanie supposed to do for you?" Elsa asks, genuinely confused. She is walking with her arm draped over Anna's shoulders, which makes the white fabric of her shirt shift to the side just enough so that Anna can see the soft curvature of her bra-clad breast. She'd had a project presentation today, Elsa had said. Hence the reason behind this sinful piece of clothing.
But Anna doesn't mind, though. Not a single tiny bit.
"I think they have speakers integrated or something."
Elsa shakes her head disapprovingly. "If only we could find the cure for cancer instead of these unnecessary gadgets."
"Sometimes you sound like such an old, salty woman, my dear cousin."
"That's because she is one," Anna quips.
Her girlfriend pushes her away with an indignant gasp.
"But I looove you," the redhead singsongs. She extends her arms towards Elsa with her lips puckered. "Come back to me!"
"No!" Elsa exclaims through a laugh.
"You guys are so weird."
"Come back!" Anna yells.
Elsa takes off in a run.
She never had a chance. The girl runs like a damn gazelle, but Anna tries anyway and manages to catch up to her when Elsa stops by the display window of a modest yet charming boutique. She looks back and finds Rapunzel walking at her own pace, refusing to follow them on their run.
"Anna, you run like a baby chicken," Rapunzel states when she catches up.
The redhead scoffs through her attempt at catching her breath. "How dare you."
Elsa is covering her mouth but her entire face is laughing.
"I do not run like a baby chicken," Anna insists as they enter the store.
"Okay, maybe not a chicken. Does a penguin sound better for ya?"
Anna regrets the morning she told Rapunzel she looked like a cockatoo because ever since that day the brunette has had no mercy on her.
Her girlfriend snorts. "Okay, children. How about we focus on our task here?"
Without much reluctance coming from both parties they split... mostly. Rapunzel heads towards the back of the store while Elsa trails after Anna towards the nearest rack to their right.
"You don't run like a baby chicken," Elsa says close to her ear. "Or a penguin for that matter."
When Anna turns around, the blonde is regarding her with bright blue eyes.
They're approached by a lady who asks if they need any help looking for something in specific. A graduation dress, Anna responds, but nothing that looks like a gown or that ends mid-thigh. It's not a party, just the ceremony.
"Something chic then", the woman says with an emphasis on the first two letters of chic. A bit pretentious. She walks them to a few racks farther down and begins sorting through the dresses herself. Anna doesn't want that though, she wants to make the discovery on her own. She cranes her neck and sees that Rapunzel has gotten rid of the retail girl that had tried to intercept her, but before she can try to do the same Elsa speaks out.
"We could take a look at a few of these ourselves, if that's okay."
"Of course, sweetie," Lady Chic says easily. She's not pretentious, Anna realizes, she just takes her role very seriously.
There's a few dresses that immediately catch both their attentions and Anna doesn't hesitate to get them off the rack before handing them to the blonde. In the end, she ends up with four likely prospects. They tell Rapunzel that she will be trying on a few dresses and the girl, distracted by the fedora hat she's placed on her head, tells them that she will be over soon.
Anna tries on a forest green dress first. It falls nicely from her waist but the bust sags a little and something on her lower back keeps giving her an itch. She doesn't come out to show it to her girlfriend since there's no need to even consider it, so she discards it and begins reaching for the next one.
Then, an idea fueled by an urge.
"Elsa, can you come over here? I need help zipping down this dress, I can't reach it."
She hears Elsa approach by the closeness of her voice. "How did you zip it up then if you couldn't—"
Anna quickly opens the door, grabs her arm, pulls her inside and shuts the door again.
"What the—Oh."
Anna is in nothing but her underwear, smiling slyly and beckoning her closer with her eyes.
The blonde's hands are cold enough to leave a trail of goosebumps when she runs them down her waist. Anna shivers, grabbing the lapels of her shirt in order to pull her closer. That sinful shirt, she has the time to think before Elsa captures her lips with her own.
Her senses are split between the taste of Elsa's minty tongue and the hands roaming sensuously over her back. She knows they shouldn't be doing this but (that damn shirt) she can't help it. Not when Elsa's hands have traveled down to her ass and the only natural reaction is for Anna to welcome the touch by moaning into the blonde's mouth.
Elsa pulls away with a cheeky grin. "Are you trying to get us caught?" She whispers.
"No," Anna drawls.
"Cause you can be very loud sometimes," the girl tells her. She's guiding her backwards to where the wall is with her hands securely on her hips. She pins her there, with both her body and her gaze, before her mouth begins a languid trail from the lobe of Anna's ear to the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. "Are you going to be loud this time too?" She breathes.
Anna shivers. There's wetness building between her legs that she knows will not be taken care of right now. Not with the way Elsa is teasing her. Why, oh why must she do this to herself?
Because Elsa in a button-up shirt, that's why.
"You're my biggest torment," Anna breathes, ignoring the question. They both know the answer to that already.
The blonde chuckles against her neck before she straightens up. Her arms remain wrapped around her waist, stable and safe. "But I'm also your greatest comfort," she teases.
"Arrogance won't take you very far." The retort falls flat because Anna has chosen to focus on undoing a button of her shirt so that she can place her palms over the skin she finds underneath. Anna can feel the steady beating of Elsa's heart. It gives her comfort.
"Actually, you're right," Elsa says, more sober now. With no shoes on, Anna's height reaches up to the blonde's nose and the girl uses this to her advantage by dropping a lingering kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling by the way?"
"Stupidly aroused."
Elsa chuckles. "Is that it?"
Anna shakes her head, rests the side of it on the blonde's shoulder and hugs her. She looks at their reflection on the mirror: her own in nothing but a cream lacy bra and matching cheeky briefs, and Elsa in her lightly disheveled shirt and black jeans. Almost naked and fully clothed. Is it normal to feel comfortable in a situation like this? With the right person it can be, she muses.
"I'm feeling a little anxious," she admits. "But nothing I can't deal with."
"You know, if you want to talk about it..."
"I'm okay, sweetheart," she tells her with a smile. And she is, in all honesty. She gets tids and bits of anxiety at random times, which have heightened in force and number as graduation nears, but they tend to flutter away if she focuses hard enough on other things. Like dress shopping.
God I need to find a dress.
Before Elsa can say anything else, there is a timid knock on the door. The voice on the other side, however, is not.
"I swear to God if you two are having sex in there I'm gonna strangle you."
Elsa leaves her to open the door of the fitting room wide enough to show her head. "Hello, dear cousin."
"Dude, you abandoned me back there. That woman kept following me around like she wanted to abduct me or something."
"Sorry, Anna had problems with a zipper."
Anna giggles. She pokes Elsa's glorious butt and the blonde swats her hand away without looking.
"Zipper my ass. Anna, get your woman away from the door, you gotta take a look at these dresses."
The last word does it. She takes hold of the door and opens it enough that her head can fit through it as well. Rapunzel catches a glimpse of her semi-naked torso and gasps. "Oh you were so having sex in there!"
"I was trying a dress on!"
"Right. You know what? Whatever. It's not like I haven't heard you guys before. Honestly Anna, you can be so loud sometimes."
Her cheeks turn crimson red. To her right, Elsa is trying to cover up her embarrassment behind her palm and muttering something that sounds a lot like I told you.
"But check these out, ma dude," the brunette continues, unaffected. "I think the winner's in here... Unless you found it already?"
"No."
"Ha. Knew it. You probably tried like one and a half before Elsa stormed inside to claim you."
"Oh God please stop," her cousin mutters.
Laughing, Rapunzel hands one dress over to Anna and three more to Elsa. "By the way, if the winner is there, you owe me a burger. If not, it's gonna be Elsa's turn to go take a look. I'm not letting you guys use my services for free so that you can sneak away to have sex."
"It wasn't sex," Anna whispers harshly. She wishes it had been, though.
The blonde places the pile of dresses on the bench so that she can sort them and hang them from the hooks attached to the wall. She doesn't stay inside the fitting room and Anna thinks it might be for the best. They'll get too distracted, it'll take forever to try anything at all.
"You're relentless," Anna hears her say with a laugh.
First comes an emerald dress covered in floral embroidery that hugs tightly at her waist and cascades down to her knees. It has a V-neckline and an open back. At first sight, it looks nice, but Elsa takes a second look at her chest and, widening her eyes, she says: "Your boobs look huge."
"Yah, it's like you walked in with a B and came out with a D. That's magic right there."
So maybe not this one. She doesn't need her parents thinking that she's saved up their stipend to pay for a boob job.
Next is a white dress with sheer lace around the hem. It feels as comfortable as if she were wearing pure cotton. Elsa likes it, and so does Rapunzel when she hoots and exclaims, "With this one wearing that gay ass shirt all you're missing are the flowers for a wedding picture."
Both girls blush.
Anna then tries a cornflower blue with a halter neckline and a flirty skater skirt that flares below a banded waist. However, it stops mid-thigh and despite Elsa's sudden lustful expression, she can't help feeling like it's a tad too much for a graduation ceremony.
Rapunzel waves her hand. "I just brought that one cause I knew it was gonna look hot on you. You don't have to wear it that day but you have to buy it. I can already see all the gals and girls falling at your feet with that one—no offence."
"Thanks?" Elsa says.
There is one dress left to try. Its color is ivory and it is made of chiffon; fine and soft. It has a scoop neck that shows off the ends of her collarbone and spaghetti straps that criss-cross over her bare back. The skirt falls loosely to the middle of her calves and when she twirls around the fabric follows with a soft flare.
"You look like a princess," Rapunzel says dreamily as soon as she steps outside.
Elsa on the other hand cannot seem to utter a single word. She is looking at her from where she stands by the bench with a soft smile and bright, enamored eyes. Still silent, she walks up to her and leans down to kiss her on the cheek. "You look stunning, my love."
Anna pats her chest gently, right above the lapels of her shirt. "You're not so bad yourself."
A dress has finally been chosen.
May 20. One day before graduation.
Anna keeps biting her lip as she walks with Kristoff through Greenwich Village. She had been hanging out at Reggio, sipping a decaf—she can't afford being more jittery than she already is—and writing little notes of nonsense as she waited for her best friend to be done with whatever last minute documents he needed to turn in so that he could walk her to the train station, where Anna is meant to take the northbound E line to where her parents are staying. She'd rather take the L and go as far as the other side of Brooklyn but it seems like not everything is possible in life.
"You're gonna bite through your lip if you keep doing that," Kristoff points out, his brown eyes full of concern.
Anna stops before her hand goes up to touch her moist, most likely reddened lower lip. "Sorry."
"Hey, it's alright." He throws his bulky arm around her shoulders. "You know, last time I met up with my dad I got so sick to the stomach I thought it was those two cups of noodles I ate, remember? You told me, Kristoff you're gonna regret that in the morning—" he says this in a high-pitched voice— "and I did feel sick, but it wasn't because of that, it was cause of my dad. He makes me really anxious too; it's dreadful."
"That's because your dad's no fun," Anna states. And he isn't. In fact, he's a condescending Prick with a capital P, whom Anna met once during one of his bi-yearly visits to his son and who told her that a pretty face like hers was not meant to be buried in a book.
"True, true, but your parents aren't as bad as my dad. Which gives us hope, right?"
"I guess, yeah." She thinks back to what Elsa had said the morning after she'd told the truth to her mom. If she were so against it she would have reacted very differently already. This may be true, to a certain level, but what Elsa had not known is how nitpicky her mother can be. She may not be against her daughter dating a girl, but there's gotta be something at fault here.
Still, she takes a deep breath and lets it out through her mouth. "It's gonna be okay," she says mostly to herself.
"It is gonna be okay, little one, and we'll be there to back you up."
Anna soon enters the underground station, boards the E train and finds a seat between a Hispanic woman carrying a basket of flowers and a heavily built man with tattoos all over his biceps. A typical New York City ride. There is an ad in front of her that says Need a Vacation From Reality? and a big neon YES shows up in her mind. Maybe, she thinks, she can travel somewhere with Elsa sometime soon. But they're going to Kristoff's place this summer. Yeah, but that's only for like, a weekend. Anna means a full week—or a month— somewhere outside of the States, like Mexico, or the Bahamas. Or maybe even Europe. That would be so nice; she can picture it already. Elsa in a black bikini in Mexico, cuddles on a hammock, drinks by the beach. Or maybe Paris, sipping hot chocolate at the Champ de Mars as they watch the Eiffel Tower light up at night. Anna could dedicate some leisure time to start a novel while Elsa reads her medical books, one after the other.
Before she has any more time to fantasize about her vacation from reality 7 Avenue Station is announced. A dinging sound, the doors part open and Anna steps out into the bustling station. She's feeling slightly apprehensive but the inevitability of the circumstances prevents her from feeling too much of anything else. She doesn't feel like she's walking into her doom per se. It's more like a low-key angsty party of three.
The Warwick stands right next to that red LOVE sculpture every tourist on earth likes to capture a picture with, and Anna gets distracted by the entrance of the hotel for a few seconds as she observes the long line that awaits their turn. The doorman greets her with a short, charming smile as he allows her to step into the revolving door with a white-gloved hand.
Anna soon feels out of place as she glances at the chandelier hanging over the center of the lobby and surveys the sleek, well-dressed patrons. She feels like that kid from Home Alone, except that she's all the childishness and none the bravery. Or like a girl scout, except—again—the same thing. She looks for the entrance of the restaurant but with all these thoughts pouring down on her she's having a hard time concentrating on her quest. A bellman steps up to her and asks her if she needs help with anything. Yeah, I'm here to sell you some of my Girl Scout cookies. Anna nearly snorts in spite of herself. Instead, she asks where the restaurant is and the bellman gives her an insanely cordial smile (Where do they find these guys?) before he points at the inconspicuous sign holder that says Murals on 54 Restaurant.
She gives the man a sheepish smile and a small thank you before she strides over to the glass doors that separate the restaurant from the lobby. Over last night's phone call Anna had easily agreed to meeting them here because there's something about the anonymity of hotels that makes them feel like neutral ground. Like in those action movies where negotiations always occur in European hotel lounges. Nobody freaks out there.
Cause it's neutral ground, so keep it cool.
But keeping it cool is exactly what Anna does not do. Upon catching her mother's face through the glass, her heart does a somersault. She quickly steps to the side, away from the doors, and takes a deep breath that does nothing to ease her thumping heart. Looking for a quick dose of distraction Anna checks her phone. There's a new text from Elsa that says I love you. I'll be here when you come back, and by here she means Anna's apartment. She gave her a spare key after Mr. Nap had insisted, in his own broken English, to "Keep a copy of key for emergency, Mees Ana. Is important." So she did, and who better than the most responsible person she knows?
The promise gives her some reassurance. Whether all of this blows to pieces or remains civil and only mildly distressing, Elsa will be at home waiting for her.
Another deep breath.
Their parents are waiting at the table when she finally steps through the doors. The place is crowded with more of those well-dressed middle-agers and Anna feels out of place once more. It's the backpack, she thinks. Should have left it with Kristoff.
"Hi!" She greets in a small voice.
In an instant, trepidation is substituted by something clearer; something closer to the heart. As if seeing them here, in the flesh, has awakened that all-too-familiar longing she grew up with.
Anna has deeply missed them.
Both her parents stand up, but it is her dad who steps closer first. The smell of his cologne hasn't changed but the last time Anna had hugged him after he'd come for a business trip, his waist had been bigger. He's lost weight. Not enough to be worrisome but enough to see a difference. He's also let his scruff grow into a red-haired beard and at fifty, Anna is beginning to see the lines of age on his forehead and on the corner of his eyes.
Her mother hugs her next but doesn't ask if Anna's lost weight, if she's been eating well, or if she's slept enough. None of those things Anna has seen happening in televised mother-and-daughter exchanges. Ah well. Her mother has changed less, and Anna suspects it is because she hasn't dropped that nightly facial routine she's practiced since Anna was a child. She does appear to have permanently stuck to her glasses though, but her brown eyes remain as piercing as ever. Nothing escapes her.
"How are you guys?" She asks with a casualty she doesn't feel. As soon as she sits, she tucks her hands between her thighs and the chair in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting with the pyramid-folded napkin that's been placed on the table.
"We're doing well," her mother says, taking reigns of the conversation. "I was telling your dad that it's been so long since we've been to the city together we're apt to take advantage of it."
A waiter comes to the table and asks Anna if she would like anything to drink. Straight whiskey and keep 'em coming, she wants to drawl. That would surely get a reaction out of her mother. "Iced tea?" She half-asks, half-requests.
The young man gives her a princely nod and leaves. Anna doesn't look at the menu yet.
"Do you guys have any plans for the next few days?" She asks them, warming up with small talk.
"Your mother wants to go to the Met," her dad says. "But I want to take a bike through Central Park."
"We could do both?" Anna asks, hopeful. Her need to please them has started to show again.
"We could," her father says. There's something in the way he carries himself now that had not been there before but Anna cannot pinpoint exactly what it is. The last time she saw him, his sole presence felt like a tour de force. Sure, he was all over the place and Anna had barely managed to carry a conversation that wasn't interrupted by a text or a phone call, but now... It's like he's had the energy sucked out of him.
Prince Charming returns with her iced tea and offers to take their food orders if they're ready. Anna hasn't even glanced at the menu but she opens it, scans the pastas and orders a pomodoro. After he leaves, it's back to business.
"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Her dad asks.
"I am." This is the easiest smile she'll give tonight. "It's still hard to wrap my head around it, though. These four years have gone by crazy fast."
"Have you thought about what your next step is?" It is her mother who asks this. Her eyes inquiring yet distant.
"I—yeah. I've been looking for jobs at writing agencies and publishing houses, mostly. But it's been harder than I thought, even for entry level jobs or non-paid internships."
Everyone wants a chance at New York, sugar. That's what Theo had told her the last time they visited. Somehow, its effect had been dispiriting and inspiring at the same time.
Her mother sighs through her nose. "It won't be easy. And a creative writer... not everyone needs one nowadays." It's a jab and Anna knows it. She's never fully approved of Anna's choice.
"I'll do my best," Anna says. She glances at her father who gives her a small, genuine smile and nods. It almost seems like he's showing her that he's proud. It feels nice. Odd, but nice.
Sipping her iced tea gives her the opportunity to mull over her next choice of words. Her mother has given no indication of even remembering that Anna has a girlfriend. Surely her father is clueless, so there's that as well. Suddenly, Anna wishes Elsa were here sitting next to her, or at least standing behind those glass doors, giving her a thumbs up and flashing her that doofus grin Anna is so hopelessly in love with.
Then, she considers not bringing the subject up. But what's the point of holding it back anymore?
"So... mom." Her heart is starting to thump against her throat. "About what I told you the other day... about, um, Elsa?"
"Elsa..?" The phone by her hand chimes and she lifts it up to look at the new notification. She decides it can wait—a first—and puts it back down.
"My," Anna clears her throat. She glances at her father, who's looking at her with curiosity and then at her mother, who appears as stoic as a judge. "My girlfriend?" The words are muttered so lowly; so cowardly, she thinks with distaste.
Her eyes fall back to her father in order to catch his initial reaction, but all he does is take it in and sit back on his chair. Not a word; not an outburst either. Anna only takes her eyes off him when her mother speaks out.
"Oh, of course," she says vaguely, "What about her?"
Anna frowns. "Is that—aren't you upset?"
"Why would I be, Anna? You're so young still. There's nothing wrong with experimentation."
Oh no.
"If I'm honest with you, I went through similar experiences as you, although I must admit," she says with a humorless laugh, "I never went as far as calling any girl my girlfriend."
Her dad has leaned closer to the table again but that's as far as his reaction goes. "Elizabeth..."
Anna is horrified. "I'm not experimenting with anything, mom. I'm in love with her," she tells her mother, her father; anyone who will listen at this point.
Her mom looks at her with a sickening mixture of affection and condescension. "I'm sure you are, honey. Love at your age goes as easily as it comes."
"That's not—" What? That's not how it feels with her? "That's not always true..."
"Let me ask you this, Anna—" She is interrupted by the waiter setting the plates on the table before he's waived off by Anna's father. "What are your plans for the future?" She barely spares the parting man a glance. "Have you thought about that? Or are you just living on cloud nine right now, getting distracted with your girlfriend while you put your dreams on the back burner?"
Since when do you care, Anna wants to cry out.
"Those two things are completely unrelated."
"Oh, honey, but they're not. Do you think people don't have to constantly sacrifice one thing over the other to achieve their dreams? Do you really think that this Elsa girl will be around when you have to face this choice? You're smarter than that—"
"Enough." Her father's voice is like a booming finality. But it is too late now; Anna is far too gone into herself. "That's enough, Elizabeth."
Her mother looks at him, flared up. Anna has never seen anyone interrupt her with such force. Not even her dad.
"Don't project yourself onto her," he tells her. There is something hidden behind those words that only they seem to understand, but whatever the meaning may be, it shuts her up.
The rest of the dinner goes by so painfully awkward that Anna considers choking on a tomato just to clear the air. She wishes she could stand up, throw the napkin on the table, give a parting statement that will leave her parents dumbfounded and walk away. Her appetite is gone, and so is her mind, elsewhere.
She figures that at least everything is out in the open and the anxious anticipation she once felt is now gone. In its place, however, is something Anna would much rather do without. She feels dread, nauseating and overpowering. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that makes her push half of her food around the plate.
She thinks of Elsa, of how sure her mother sounds in her prediction and of how much Anna thinks she is wrong. Because not everything has to be black and white. Not everything should have to be sacrificed.
Then, her father's words.
She sneaks a glance at them. Her mother is mumbling about some motion to compel, but her words are directed at the plate and there's little to no engagement between the two (Anna nods here and there, but engages even less than her dad). She knows her father is listening but the distance expressed deeper than mere physicality is hard to miss.
When was the last time she saw the two of them together? She saw her mother at the beginning of last year, and her father a little later than that. But together... Now that she thinks about it, they had not visited together since the first year Anna had moved to New York.
When dinner is over Anna quietly announces her departure with the excuse that she wants to get enough rest for tomorrow's big ceremony. Rest may be hard to come, but Elsa will be there and that's all the comfort she needs right now.
Her father offers to walk her out and order a cab for her, and Anna feels slightly guilty for being surprised that he's even offered.
Anna hugs her mother goodbye with a wan smile. "We'll see you tomorrow, honey," she hears her say with a soft and solemn voice.
She tries not to cry.
On the lobby, her father stops her with a hand on the shoulder. His bright blue eyes regard her in silence for a few seconds.
"You're not experimenting," he says. It's not a question, it's a statement.
Anna shakes her head weakly.
The hug surprises her. It is encompassing and warm, and Anna thinks with great longing that this is what it must be like to be close to your parents. Because his arms around her no longer feel like a weak gesture of formality, but rather of safety and unwavering protection.
Anna grips the back of his sports jacket. It takes everything in her to keep her tears at bay.
When she arrives home Elsa is sitting on the bed with a book in her hands. As soon as the redhead steps foot inside the apartment she places a bookmark between the pages, closes it and places it on the nightstand.
"Hey," Elsa whispers.
Anna discards her backpack then her shoes. She is tired and numb, and hungry without the appetite. Her knees are ready to give in under her, and when Elsa finally embraces her, she succumbs.
Her tears fall quietly down her cheeks. There's no sob that breaks through her chest, not a single mournful sound. All there is is a tired sigh, a closing of her eyes, and a tightening in their embrace. They stand there for a few minutes with Elsa stroking her hair and Anna taking deep breaths.
"You wanna tell me how it went?"
Anna does.
As they lie in bed, she tells her everything in a manner different from the way she tends to talk—quietly and pensively—, from the looks of the hotel to what it felt like to see her parents again. She tells Elsa about her mother's sternness, about her father's change in demeanor and subsequent reaction, and about how different they seem to act around each other now. Elsa listens and not once does she interrupt, and beneath the surface of Anna's recounting, she thinks with affection that nobody has ever listened to her the way Elsa does.
"I'm not sure how tomorrow's gonna go." It's a thought that hasn't left her since she boarded the train back home. She wonders if she should have warned them that they'll be meeting her girlfriend tomorrow but what's the point? It probably wouldn't make things any easier.
Elsa pushes her bangs away from her forehead and Anna smiles a little. She's noticed how much the blonde likes to do that. It's a gesture that is solely hers.
"Whatever happens, I won't leave your side this time."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"I'll have to use the restroom eventually," she jokes. The effort is small, but it's there. A little ray of sunshine seeping through gray clouds.
"I'll hold your hand from under the stall."
Anna giggles. "That would raise so many questions."
"None I care to answer," she replies before pulling her closer at the waist. "I love you, Anna... I want you to remember that. It's not experimental and it's not temporal. I know that at our age everything feels permanent when it isn't, but you have to know that I'm so in love with you... I don't think I could ever feel this way with anyone again."
Tears prick her eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time today. To think that she could have never met Elsa at that party... To think that she could have never met her at all.
"I don't think I could, either," she whispers.
And she won't.
Thursday, May 21, 2020 is warm and cloudless... outside.
Inside of Elsa's apartment, it is stuffy and a havoc, and it smells like conditioner or pizza depending on where you're standing. After arriving that morning from Anna's place, the living room slowly turned into a hair salon slash gaming room when Eugene and Kristoff showed up with a large Joe's cheese pie and Kristoff's Xbox console, knowing well enough that there will be a lot of waiting around for three girls to get ready.
Halo is the video game being currently played, or some other version of the same violence. Anna doesn't know. All she can hear are muffled gunshots and weird commands from inside the bathroom. She's been drying her hair for nearly fifteen minutes but is almost done, and thank God for that, because the room is starting to become mildly claustrophobic with all this noise and all this humidity.
When she steps out, she finds Eugene lounging on the armchair and munching a slice of pizza, mindful enough to use a paper towel as a bib over his crisp white shirt. His stubble has been trimmed and his brown hair has been coiffed. On the loveseat, Kristoff sits wearing an equally white shirt with his black tie unmade and draped around his neck. He's opted out of the coiffed hairdo himself because Anna made a face that was starting to tell him That's not your look before Eugene straight up told him he looked like that killer from Psycho. It is Kristoff who is causing all those virtual gunshots. Him and (why is it not surprising?) Elsa. The blonde is sharing the couch with him, aggressively pushing the buttons of the controller; her brow knit tight in vehement concentration, her eyes set in a fierce focus. She misses when her girlfriend first walks out of the bathroom, but Anna figures it must be a good thing for Rapunzel because the brunette is just as intent on braiding her cousin's hair from her position on the back of the loveseat.
Overall, quite a sight. Like a dysfunctional family of pre-teens.
It is Eugene who notices her first, offering a slice of pizza that she declines. Her appetite is still very much kaputt. It has been so since that pomodoro she barely dined on last night.
Immediately after, Elsa turns to look at her, killing her character in the process and earning a hard slap on the shoulder. "Stay still," Rapunzel says. Then, to Anna: "You're up next."
"You should charge, babe," Eugene mumbles through a mouthful of cheese, marinara sauce and dough.
"Hey, gorgeous," the blonde greets, glancing sideways at her with a smile. She doesn't risk another slap but she hands the controller back to Kristoff and says, "You sucked."
Anna chuckles as she leaves them for Elsa's room. She has no real reason to be there but she's not feeling quite herself right now. She doesn't want to pamper anyone's mood.
"I'm not the one that died after walking right in front of a bazooka," she hears Kristoff say.
"See, that's how I know you sucked. That wasn't a bazooka, that was a recoilless Stovepipe with a solid-propeller rocket, otherwise known as HEAT. Do your homework, blondie boy."
There's a few sniggers and a boyish Ow! coming from Eugene. Anna can't stop herself from snorting.
"Alright, who else wants to play?" Kristoff mumbles sorely.
Just as Anna is getting her dress off the door's hook to lay it on the bed, Elsa pads in with a neat braid cascading down her shoulder, still wearing that flannel shirt and faded blue jeans that had driven Rapunzel to give her the official title of the lesbian archetype. Anna bites her lip to stop the teasing grin that's threatening to come out.
"How do you know so much about armament?" Anna asks her.
"I don't," she replies with a grin, lowly enough not to be heard by the people in the living room. "I just read a very detailed book about World War Two once and told him whatever terms I could remember."
Anna laughs hard at this. "You're too smart for your own good sometimes."
The blonde brings an index up to her smiling lips. "He doesn't need to know that."
She shakes her head amusedly before her eyes fall back to the ivory dress that awaits her.
"What's on your mind?" Elsa asks.
A thousand and one things, but to name one would be to name them all, like pulling at an infinite thread made out of words. Still, there's one thought in particular that's been roaming about since this morning.
"I keep thinking that I've been so lost in my own thoughts that I haven't asked you how you are feeling. I mean, you're meeting my parents after all. Aren't you a little nervous at least?"
"I am... a lot nervous actually."
Anna inhales deeply and lets the air out like a deflating balloon. "I'm pulling you through too much drama, aren't I?"
"None I'm not willing to go through for you," she says, inching closer in order to grab Anna's hands. "Besides, you're not putting me through anything. I'm here for you, even through the lowest of lows, remember?"
Anna smiles. She does remember.
"Annaaaa," Rapunzel howls from the living room, "Come to mammaaaa." And then to the boys: "See what I did there?"
"Genius."
"I'm dating an eminence."
"How long do we have left?" She asks the blonde.
"Like an hour and a half."
Anna pouts.
"Okay, I'll tell you what. While you get your hair done I'll pour you a glass of our complimentary wine so that you can relax a bit. Just one. I'll drink with you, too."
"Is it the wine that makes me feel like Hemingway?"
Elsa chuckles. "Yes. But we're trying to be Maya Angelou here, remember?"
As the blonde leads her out of the room and back to the living room Anna asks: "Can I see your dress now?"
"No," Elsa smirks back at her. "Soon."
And soon comes fast.
Anna has always been pegged as a talker. On various occasions she's been asked by professors to keep it short because she has the tendency to delve in deep when it comes to a subject she enjoys. As a kid, she used to talk for hours with her stuffed animals before going to sleep, recounting everything she had done that day. As a teeny tiny teenager, she became friends with her new neighbor until he stopped talking to her because, as he'd said when she confronted him, she was a blabbermouth. This earned him a kick in the shin from a furious little girl who thought blabbermouth was an insult. And in a way, it was intended to be. Anna was quick to learn this.
But with a life of talking came wondrous little moments of speechlessness. When Anna witnessed the ocean for the first time, she was speechless. No words could do its vastness any justice, so she chose not to try. When she flew over New York City to start her new life: speechless. Because, why speak when you can look out the window and feel as though you can reach out and graze the tip of the Empire State Building with your hand? Then again, the first time her eyes met Elsa's she was robbed of her ability to speak. Now, as she watches her girlfriend come out of her room full on dressed and made-up, Anna has no idea what to say.
Elsa is wearing an off-the-shoulder, midnight blue dress that falls with a flair to her calves. Her skin—the skin Anna has so often kissed—is bare from her neck to her collarbone, while her toned, runner's legs end on a pair of imposing ankle strap stilettos. It makes Anna think of a queen, the way she carries herself so royally and with such a staggering poise.
"Woah... Elsa..."
Elsa's hips sway back and forth as she makes her way over to where Anna sits with her mouth agape on the couch. The kiss she gives her breaks her out of her daze.
"We should get going," she tells her with a knowing smirk.
The President, Professors, and Trustees of
New York University
Be it known that we in recognition of the successful completion of the requisite course of study in our
College of Arts and Science
by virtue of authority granted us by charter of the State of New York do confer upon
Anna Summers
the degree of
Bachelor of Arts
with all the rights, privileges, and immunities thereunto appertaining. In witness whereof we have caused this Diploma to be signed by the duly authorized officers of the University with our corporate seal, in the City of New York, May, Two thousand twenty.
Anna reads these words from top to bottom once, then twice. Pride flutters inside her chest. It's aggrandizing; expansive. It courses through her body like wind courses through a forest, fitting into every crevice it can find. I made it, she thinks. I freaking made it. Despite the mixture of emotions clashing against one another, Anna allows herself this brief moment of self-satisfaction. She thinks of all those hours she spent reading, analyzing and writing. All those days she had to rush with her backpack flapping up and down from school to work, and from work to school. All those late nights she spent thinking of prompts and ideas and stories. All those memories she made with her testosterone-filled group of friends. All those lessons she learned from her professors and all those inspirational little notes she got to scribble at the top of her journal pages. It all makes her feel nostalgic and exhilarated at the same time. Oddly enough, she thinks first not of the advice her parents would give her, but of Theo's. It's all onward from here, sugar, she'd probably say. Follow those dreams and don't stop until you get 'em.
She wishes Theo were here, but the long trip to Manhattan and back takes a great toll on her and besides, she said, she doesn't want the girls watching after an old lady on the day they're supposed to be celebrating. Still, Anna made sure Elsa took enough pictures to fill two albums so that they can show Theo and the rest of their friends at Castle Senior Center next time they go.
When the commencement is over and the caps have been thrown up in the air, the sitting crowd breaks and becomes a myriad of slow passers. Thanks to the Nordic freaking stature of her girlfriend, Anna doesn't waste too much time in finding Elsa and by proxy Rapunzel amidst violet gowns and well-dressed family members.
As soon as she is close, Elsa engulfs her in a hug that makes her feel wholesome. "I'm so, so proud of you," she says so that only Anna can hear her.
Rapunzel squeals next to them before she's let go of the blonde; Eugene has joined the group.
After a warm exchange of hugs Eugene announces: "I'm gonna introduce her to my parents but I'll meet you guys outside."
She receives a text from her dad that tells her they'll be waiting by the left wing entrance of the orchestra. The crowd, rather than dispersing, is beginning to clog the exits, turning their steps into a funeral march that Anna uses to her advantage to try to appease her jittery nerves. Elsa is running her thumb over the back of her hand, but the action feels distant in comparison to the narrow sensation of expectancy jamming her throat.
"Anna."
She turns to the source of the sound. It is Elsa.
"I have chocolate in my purse," she tells her with a soft smile. "You want it?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. "You shouldn't even have to ask."
Elsa giggles. She lets go of her hand long enough to pull out a chocolate bar from her clutch that she opens and hands to the redhead.
Anna takes a bite and immediately welcomes the sensation of melting chocolate in her tongue. They're getting closer to the entrance but at least now she'll have something to munch on.
She sees her father towering over most of the people that surround him and Anna takes a deep, self-encouraging breath as she takes the final steps through the crowd. Behind her, Elsa squeezes her hand in reassurance.
Her mother is nowhere in sight but her father is there alright, standing with his hands deep inside the pocket of his dress pants and giving her a smile that is both proud and tentative.
Anna welcomes the brief although tight hug he gives her.
"Where's mom?"
"She had to take a phone call. Reception's bad in here so she stepped outside."
A tight-lipped smile. Well then, it seems like we can't just rip the band-aid off only once, can we?
"Dad, this is Elsa," she says, the smallest hint of hesitance laced in her voice. "My girlfriend." Even under these circumstances, saying those words gives her a slight rush of excitement. My girlfriend, she thinks sardonically. My drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend who's smart enough to make you think she knows all about World War Two armament. Oh, and did I forget to tell you—
"She's a doctor."
Her father frowns, confused, in the middle of shaking the blonde's hand.
"Wait—"
"Anna..."
"Sorry, I said that out loud. She's not a doctor... yet."
Off to a great start.
"I'm a med student," Elsa explains. She is smiling at the redhead as she says this; that smile of hers that's both teasing and full of endearment.
Her father appears impressed. "What specialty?"
"Cardiology."
Even more impressed. "A tough one."
"It's worth it," Elsa smiles.
She can tell the blonde is nervous by the way her hands subtly fidget with each other, her fingertips doing a little dance of swiveling and clutching, and Anna gives herself the chance to revel at how Elsa takes rein of this nervousness and translates it into polite self-confidence.
Both her dad and Elsa turn to look at her, expecting a response to a question Anna didn't even hear.
"Sorry, what?"
"Do you want to go outside? Your mother will probably be waiting for us there."
"Oh yes."
So far so... okay. But her father seems to be the one Anna shouldn't worry about as much. Still, her trepidation has subdued. She sneaks a bite of the chocolate bar she's still holding and reaches for Elsa's hand again as her father guides them towards the exit of the Music Hall. Elsa winks at her when she catches her eye and Anna swoons a little. The support her mere presence provides remains unwavering.
When they're outside she spots Kristoff hanging out with Shang and his family. Upon seeing her, Kristoff gives her a sign that Anna understands as Do you need me to come there? but Anna shakes her head. She'll text him in a few minutes. Next to him, Shang shapes a heart with his hands when he sees her with Elsa. She chuckles.
Her mother is waiting for them near the corner of 50th and 6th, close to the wall of the Hall, and away from the throng of attendees and passersby. She lowers her cellphone as soon as she sees them but doesn't put it away, a sign that usually means she's not done with it yet.
"Honey," she says, "Congratulations."
Anna hugs her tight as she catches a whiff of the perfume her mother's worn most of Anna's life; a scent of honey and sandalwood.
Behind her, Elsa and her father stand next to each other.
"Mom," she says, extending her hand towards the blonde so that she can join her by her side. "This is Elsa."
Brown, inquisitive eyes flicker from Elsa to Anna and back to Elsa just as her smile goes from genuine to plastered to sagacious. Anna cannot, for the life of her, discern what she's thinking.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Summers." Elsa shakes her hand with a smile of her own. It is soft but charming, and Anna can tell she's trying to make a good impression.
"Likewise," she says. Then, to Anna and her dad: "Shall we go out to celebrate?"
Anna watches her girlfriend quickly glance down with a frown. She squeezes her hand and makes sure to hold Elsa's eyes as she says, "We could go out for dinner?"
Given her mother's reaction last night, she had not expected a welcoming party, but to see her dismiss her girlfriend so blatantly is something she can't permit. Thankfully, approaching the group are Eugene, his parents, Rapunzel and Kristoff, and Anna lets out a faint sigh of relief she didn't know she had been holding.
Anna doesn't wait for either of her parents to respond. She takes Elsa by the hand towards their friends. Kristoff wraps her in a bear hug that lifts her up a few inches off the ground. Rapunzel hugs her again just because, her green eyes glinting with an excitement she wishes she could borrow a bit from. Eugene, eternally suave, grabs hers and Elsa's hands and says "My ladies," before he takes a small bow.
With Elsa here and now her friends, Anna knows she'll be able to weather almost anything.
Anna introduces her parents to everyone and Eugene does the same afterwards. His parents are boisterous and amicable, and Anna can now see where he got the ability to talk to anyone about anything. They're so amicable in fact that they invite them all to a celebratory dinner.
"The restaurants around here will be crammed," her father comments. "The Village should be better."
"Let's hop on those taxis then."
In the meantime, Anna pulls Elsa to the side. "Will you mind if I ride with my parents?"
"There's nine of us, I think you'll have to one way or another, sweetheart."
Anna briefly analyzes this. "Right."
Regardless, there's concern in the blonde's eyes and Anna knows exactly why. She had promised to stick by her side. "Will you be alright? We don't have to go if you don't want to."
"I'll be okay, I think. I need to talk to them. I won't be able to do anything else if I don't get this off my chest first."
"Okay," she says, her voice edging on reluctance. "We'll be riding right behind you."
Anna nods. She starts to walk back towards the rest of the group but Elsa, not having let go of her hand, stops her. When she looks back she finds blue eyes gazing at her. Beneath the bright, May sun, Elsa has not shed a single drop of sweat. Her hair is just as neat as when she first had it done and that dress of hers is still hugging her body just right. So beautiful it's unfair, Anna thinks.
"I love you," Elsa tells her.
The redhead smiles with affection. Right this moment, whether her parents are watching or not, Anna does not care; she kisses her.
"I love you," she breathes.
She gets in the yellow taxi sandwiched between her mom and her dad. Behind the wheel is a grinning man wearing a blue turban and a long, well-kept beard. "Where to?"
"51 Grove Street, please."
The man nods and says: "Seet belts, plees." When he sees everyone comply from the rear view mirror he grins again and exclaims: "Off we go!"
Anna watches the red Khanda ornament that hangs from the mirror bounce and wobble as the car begins to maneuver through the mid-afternoon traffic.
"Congratulations," the driver says after a few minutes of silence. "Graduation, yeah?"
She gives him a smile that he catches through the mirror, "Yeah, thank you."
"The ceremony was lovely," her mother says. "And that braided bun, honey, did you get it done professionally? It suits you quite well."
"No, Rapunzel did it for me."
"Rapunzel... we just met her didn't we?" The question is rather directed at her dad, who only nods. "Very lively, that one," she says as to herself.
"She's Elsa's cousin," Anna adds. It's nowhere near an explanation to the brunette's natural buoyancy but she's trying to stir the conversation away from this hellhole of a small talk.
She bites her lip once—almost hard enough to draw blood—as she looks down at the half eaten chocolate bar Elsa gave her. It's a Cadbury one, smooth and sweet, just how Anna likes them. She considers offering some to her parents but something deep inside stops her from doing it. She keeps thinking of how Elsa was dismissed by her mother, so blatantly, so unjustifiably. And her father, who's been acting so strange it's like he's been switched since the last time she saw him.
"Mom..." She starts, still gazing down at her lap. With the way she's fiddling with the chocolate it'll end up melting all over her. "I know that... you don't approve of who I'm with or, I guess, what I'm doing, but... could you at least not take it out on Elsa? She's just trying to be nice... there's no need to be rude to her."
She hopes it doesn't come out as a lecture, not when all she's trying to do is make amends for Elsa's sake.
"Anna..." Her mother says with a sigh, "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl you're dating. I've noticed your... tendencies since you were younger. But you have to understand that you're at your prime right now. You can't afford getting distracted by something as transient as a college fling."
Again with this nonsense, she thinks.
"Since when do you care?" She mutters, echoing the thought that has been reverberating in her mind since last night.
"Excuse me?"
"Since when have you two ever cared?" She asks, aiming it at the two people sitting with her on the backseat of the car. She notices the driver turn the volume up a notch. She doesn't know if it's out of consideration or not. "Why is it that all of the sudden you guys care about my future, or about how I'm feeling?"
"We've always cared, Anna. We're your parents," her father responds.
There it is, like tipping the first domino piece. It's all downward from here.
"How is that any guarantee?" She exclaims. It isn't, she knows this deep in her heart. It is no guarantee at all. "When was the last time you guys sat down with me or called me for a real conversation? I mean, dad, you left me on seen for hours, and mom, you called me back days later! When have you guys ever even asked me Anna how was your day, and actually listened?"
Her mother is shaking her head in disbelief. "We have given you everything we could have possibly provided you with."
"And I'm grateful for that, I really am... but you guys were never there when I needed you the most."
"Anna..."
"No," she interrupts softly, "Just... let me finish. For once, you have no choice but to hear me out." Her voice wavers, breaking under the weight of her words. "I spent so much of my life thinking I was not good enough. I grew up with this idea that I had to work for your affection, and even then I failed... I failed so hard... because you guys were so busy with work and with God knows what else that you could barely spare a glance at me. I spent nights hoping that either one of you would come in and wish me good night. I came from school day after day wishing that one of you would be there to receive me just so that I could tell you about my day, but instead I spent an entire childhood missing my parents when they were right there."
"Sweetheart, if we were busy it's because we were trying to give you the best life possible," her father tries to explain.
"But what about the rest!? What about the things that really mattered? Is money really the only thing that matters to you?"
"You know that is not true."
"No, I don't know! That's why I'm here, sitting between you two and feeling like I barely know you at all."
Her chest is constricted as she tries to keep her tears from falling. She has no idea what street they're on but given the decreasing height of the buildings around them, Anna thinks they'll be arriving any minute now. She doesn't look to her left, nor to her right. She doesn't wish to see yet what her words have caused because she is not done.
"I'd like to think that I never really asked for much..." A tear escapes her. It breaks through her lashes, tainted by her mascara, and falls down her cheek before Anna watches it fall in sorrowful silence. "But sometimes I wonder if what I truly wanted... what I needed from you, was the only thing you would never be able to give me."
A few moments pass before the taxi reels to the side of the street and parks with what feels like finality. There is a pregnant pause followed by the driver clearing his throat and announcing the fare in a voice that seeks to be unobtrusive.
Anna watches as her father pulls out the cash, hands it to the man, and tells him to keep the change. She feels like a kid again, shaken and distraught, waiting for the adults to make the first move and exit the car that's becoming suffocating by the second. To her right, her mother is silent; her eyes hardened by remorse. To her left, her father gives her a repentant look that is replaced by reluctance as he reaches for the door's handle.
Anna has no idea how close her words have hit to home. She has no idea if this will change anything at all. The only thing she knows is that she wants out. She wants to run as far away from here as she possibly can.
It is with this final thought in her mind that Anna steps out into the warm breeze of May.