Chapter Four
Over the next few weeks, Anna and Vanellope kept close correspondence in the time between her getting home from school and Ralph getting home from work. They traded details on their respective family and cooked up half-mad schemes to try and get them closer together, all of which had been torpedoed when they realized the plans would easily backfire or be caught out. Elsa was a certified genius, and Ralph had his own brand of practical brains and a nose for fishy business.
It was by sheer chance that a genuine opportunity presented itself — and from the most surprising direction.
"Your next major assignment is a paper on a powerful modern figure," Miss Mary, Vanellope's teacher, said as she passed out the assignment rubric. "I want your sources cited, like we've been discussing in class," — oh bits, Vanellope hated sourcing and citing and all that junk! — "and the best paper will get free dessert at lunch for a week!"
That got Vanellope's attention, her sweet tooth practically vibrating at the thought. When she'd gotten home, she'd only called Anna to have someone to talk to about the idea, since Ralph would no doubt warn her about going overboard on sugar. It was Anna who had the crazy idea, and she was the one to make the suggestion to Ralph.
"You want to what?" Ralph asked.
"I want to set something up with Elsa for Van's paper. She said she hates citing, and I can totally back her up on that. It sucks in college. This way, it's more like an interview and Van gets way more in-depth material."
"Isn't that kind of cheating?" Ralph asked, hefting a metal barrel of who-knows-what onto his shoulder to move off the truck, Anna following behind.
"Oh please," Anna said, flicking her wrist. "Van told me about some rich girl in her class who's copping out by interviewing her dad. Who, by the way, is apparently a high-up in this very company."
Ralph sighed at that, knowing exactly who Anna was talking about. Taffyta Shephard. She was the richest member of Vanellope's class and the quintessential mean girl. Taffyta had had it out for Vanellope ever since Van had thrown the status quo of their class out the window back in fourth grade with her unapologetically tomboyish attitude and her equally friendly and nonconformist nature that had refused to bend to Taffyta's will.
Since then, Taffyta had taken any chance she could get to rub her high-class standard of living, the one thing Vanellope couldn't match, in Vanellope's face. To her credit, Vanellope had never let it bother her much and was more than happy to live with Ralph no matter what. But to a world-wise cynic like Ralph it was abundantly clear that money did hold weight, and it had kept him up long through several nights wondering if he would be able to provide Vanellope with a good future.
"Hold up. Aren't you rich, too?" Ralph asked quizzically. "'Cause this sounds like you're trying to bring the rich girl down a peg or two."
Anna crossed her arms with an unamused look. "I may be rich, but I'm not a brat about it. Usually. My parents taught me to appreciate what I have and always help those with less." She gave a sheepish grin. "Which in this city pretty much means everyone."
"So this is a two-for-one win for you," Ralph surmised.
"It's helping out a friend," Anna said pointedly. "And if it ruins the day of an alpha-bitch-to-be, who am I to refuse?"
Ralph laughed at that, catching the eye of the floor manager who was looking at them with faint disapproval. It was an open secret that he didn't care for Anna coming down here every day to distract one (now two) of his best workers. But the fact that Anna owned a full quarter of the company — and her sister owned a third — meant he had little sway in the matter, as she was granted clearance to every part of the building.
"You're still assuming your sister will agree to this scheme of yours," Ralph pointed out, heading back to the truck. Given that he actually liked this job, he never let Anna's chats slow him down unless he was on his lunch break.
"She'll say yes. I guarantee it," Anna grinned, though she inwardly frowned a bit at Ralph's refusal to call Elsa by her actual name, rather than "Miss Winters" or "your sister". "I think Van really wormed her way into Elsa's heart. Plus, I can still spin the whole hero angle again."
"You're going to run that dry," Ralph warned. No matter how many times he heard it, he stubbornly refused to think of himself as a hero. Anna had gotten him this job, which meant they were even as far as he was concerned.
"No I'm not," Anna countered. "C'mon, Ralph. There's literally no downside here. Heck, this'll probably be a really good experience for Vanellope. I could totally see her getting into journalism or something with her biting wit. Maybe this can lead her to knowing what she wants to do when she grows up." Anna was self-aware enough to know she had a problem with that, and she would help anyone figure it out for themselves. Especially an adorable little go-getter.
"Why do you even need my approval?" Ralph asked.
"Because she's twelve and you're her dad," Anna said simply.
'And knowing Elsa, she'll want to keep this as under the radar as possible,' Anna added silently. 'She's a rich, beautiful business magnate. The press and paparazzi make her nervous — and for good reason.'
"So?"
"Aye yai yai," Ralph sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. "You know what? Fine. If Vanellope and Miss Winters are okay with it, you can do what you want."
"Thanks, Ralph!" Anna shouted before finding Kristoff. After a quick goodbye hug, Anna bolted for the elevators to get the second part of her plan in motion. She hopped in her car, a hotrod-red convertible, and drove to pick up some snacks before her next step.
Two hours later found Anna waiting outside Corey Daniel Middle School, sitting against the hood of her car and scrolling through her phone as she waited out the clock. Finally, the school bell rang out and kids soon started pouring out of the building. Anna kept her eyes peeled and finally found an ebony ponytail making its way toward the buses.
"Hey, Van!" Anna yelled.
Vanellope turned at the sound of the nickname and broke into a wide grin at the sight of her redheaded friend. She gave a quick goodbye to another group of kids and ran to give Anna a tackling hug.
"Hey, Anna! What're you doing here?" Vanellope asked.
"You said something about a paper to research a powerful modern figure. Well, I talked to your dad and he said it'd be okay to interview Elsa." Anna smirked. "Can't get much more powerful than that." She patted her car door. "Now hop in, we gotta go set up an appointment with the lady herself."
Vanellope's eyes went wide at the sight of Anna's car. "Wow. Who do you have to con to get a car like this?"
"No one," Anna said. "I don't like to flaunt my money like some people, but I saw this baby and just couldn't resist. So come on! Let me show you what Joan can really do!"
"Joan?" Vanellope asked, tossing her backpack in the back seat and hopping in shotgun.
"Long story, kinda boring, but I'm kind of a Joan of Arc fangirl," Anna admitted. "And what better name could you give an awesome car like this than that of a badass warrior woman?" Anna passed Vanellope some aviator-style shades. "Shall we?"
"Heck yeah!"
"Miss Winters, your sister is here to see you. She says it's urgent."
Elsa looked up from a sheaf of paperwork in surprise. "Send her in," Elsa said into the intercom, her tone bemusedly resigned. Whenever Anna showed up at her office unexpectedly, there were usually shenanigans to follow.
"Hey, Elsa," Anna greeted. Elsa smiled at her sister, but the expression wavered into confusion at the sight of a familiar twelve-year-old at her heels.
"Anna, why is Vanellope here and not in school?" Elsa asked sharply.
"You lost track of time again, Elsa," Anna giggled. "Her school let out almost an hour ago."
Elsa's gaze went flat. "You only answered half of my question. Why is she here, in my office?"
"You know, as you pointed out, I am right here," Vanellope interjected, arms crossed in annoyance. Why did adults always ignore kids like that?
Elsa had the decency to look a bit repentant. "I'm sorry, Vanellope. You're right. Why are you here? I would have thought you would want to stay as far from a boring business office as you possibly could."
"Well, I mean, as far as offices go," Vanellope said, looking around the large room — with its rich marble floor, warm coffee-colored walls, wooden furnishings, and even a working fireplace — and gave a shrug, "this isn't so bad." Elsa chuckled at that. "But Anna brought me up here to ask for a, um …" Vanellope bit her lip in the most adorable way she could, both to up the cuteness factor and in genuine nervousness. "... Ask a favor?"
Elsa's brows shot up in surprise. "Do I need my checkbook for this favor?" she asked, her grin showing it was in jest.
"Nope, just you," Vanellope chirped, before explaining her assignment.
When Vanellope had finished, Elsa blinked in surprise. "Vanellope, I'm honored that you would like to interview me, but are you certain that you want to? I'm hardly a powerful modern figure."
Vanellope and Anna glanced at each other … before bursting into laughter. "Sis, I love you, but you're so oblivious it's kinda heartbreaking," Anna laughed, secretly meaning more than in just her reputation. "You're a female head of a huge corporation, which already puts you ahead of the game. Plus, you're not even thirty, which makes it even more impressive. And that's not even getting into all the stuff you do for charity and to fund the police and stuff. Heck, in this city, you're practically the unofficial queen."
Elsa rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean I'd be a suitable subject for this assignment," she pointed out.
"One of my classmates is doing her report on her dad, who works here!" Vanellope cried. "And yes, I know that for a fact because she cleared it with our teacher in front of the entire class."
Upon hearing this, Elsa fixed Anna with a flat glare. "Anna, what exactly do you get out of this?" she asked.
Anna couldn't help the heat rising up her neck to color her cheeks. "Helping a friend and messing with a snobby rich girl," she admitted.
Elsa kept her gaze on Anna for a few moments longer, making her squirm, before covering her lips with her fingers to hide a chuckle. "Alright, I'll do it. Anna, tell my assistant to schedule her as soon as possible. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I really need to get back to this paperwork if I want to be home in time for dinner."
Anna and Vanellope high-fived and turned to leave. "Oh, Vanellope?" Elsa said, pausing in her resumed work. Van looked back curiously. "Do tell your father 'hello' for me," she smiled. Vanellope smiled and nodded before taking her leave.
The interview was set up really quickly for that Saturday during Elsa's lunch hour, which left a fair amount of time between now and when Ralph would get off work. Which meant Anna was very much inclined to bring her down to the loading docks.
"Hi Ralph!" Vanellope shouted as soon as the doors opened.
"Vanellope?" Ralph asked, pausing in moving a large barrel in surprise. "What are you-?" Ralph cut himself off as he noticed Anna. "Ah. I'm guessing you got set up with Miss Winters?" he asked.
"Yep! This Saturday." Vanellope giggled. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
The very next Saturday found Elsa sitting in a high-class bistro, looking over the menu as she waited for Vanellope to arrive. She briefly wondered why she was looking it over when she always got the same thing from this place, but brushed it off. Maybe she'd actually try something new?
"Hi, Miss Winters!" Elsa looked up and smiled at Vanellope as the child sat and placed a full backpack down by the table. She was dressed in a teal hoodie and brown ruffled skirt with mismatched stockings and boots; Elsa couldn't help but compare it to her own violet business skirt suit and inwardly wish that she could bring herself to dress more casually when not on business.
"Good afternoon, Vanellope," Elsa smiled. "Would you rather eat or talk first?"
"Talk, definitely," Van grinned. "I had a big breakfast just so I wouldn't be too hungry for this." With that, she removed a spiral notebook, what looked like an assignment rubric, and a few mechanical pencils and erasers from her backpack. "Okay, let's see here … Miss Winters, how would you say you or your company have positively affected the world in the last year. Both locally and across the globe?"
Elsa's eyes widened a bit at the question, expecting something more along the lines of how much she made in a year. Vanellope's question was … much more mature. She flashed a grin as she quickly formulated a concise answer involving city employment rates, charitable foundations and donations, and the company's products that advanced technology worldwide.
This, she also thought, would be an intriguing afternoon.
For the school week after the interview, Vanellope was almost vibrating with anticipation. She'd turned her work in on the Monday after the interview — a whole week in advance! — having poured her heart, soul, and every ounce of wit she possessed into the assignment. She'd even given it to Ralph, Felix, and Tamora to proofread, and had been met with rave reviews.
Maybe she could get into this journalism thing …
"Vanellope?" Miss Mary called as the students were dismissed for the bus. "May I have a word about your assignment?"
Vanellope had to bite her lip to hide her grin. Normally she'd be nervous to be singled out by the teacher, but her dad and uncle/aunt figures' praise of her paper had boosted her confidence in it. Tamora more than the guys, really — Ralph seemed to like any school work she let him see and Felix was the kind of guy who liked everything, period. Tamora was far more critical and very blunt with her opinions. Her encouragement had to mean she had this in the bag.
"Vanellope, I'd like to start with the fact that I am very impressed with your assignment," Miss Mary smiled. "It's clever, witty, and quite clearly a labor of love." Vanellope was grinning like a fool, and she didn't care. "Which is why I'm sorry that I can't accept it."
"What?!" Vanellope shouted, shocked, outraged, and a little hurt. "But you just said it was great!"
"Vanellope, your volume," Miss Mary scolded. "And it is great, Vanellope. But you utterly neglected a major part of the assignment: citation."
Vanellope gasped a bit at the lifeline thrown to her. "Aha, you said we didn't have to cite from an interview. Everyone heard that when Taffyta asked if she could interview her dad!"
"I did say that," Miss Mary conceded. "But when I said that, I meant an actual interview. Your work was very creative and clearly came from an official source, but an imaginary interview, no matter how well-written, misses the point of the assignment."
Imaginary interview …?
"... But it's not imaginary," Vanellope protested weakly, a sense of inevitable dread rising up in her gut. "I actually interviewed Miss Winters."
"Vanellope," Miss Mary said, her voice low and cool like when she was angry, "I am happy you wish to defend your work, but I will not abide lying in my classroom. The imaginary interview was creative, but it still isn't the assignment. You still have time to cite your sources and edit it, so I'd suggest you get to work tonight."
With that, Miss Mary turned away from her and the matter was closed.
Vanellope felt her eyes burning and turned away, willing the tears to not fall. No matter what, she would not show weakness in school. The five years she'd spent in the orphanage after her parents died had been brutal, and the lessons she'd learned there were difficult to shake off.
So she got to the bus, focused on her breathing and ignored the hurt in her chest for the entire way home, and barely made it through the door before the dam finally burst. As much as she hated herself for it, she ran to the couch and curled up into a little ball to weep.
Her teacher didn't believe her! She'd thought for days on questions to ask Elsa and powered her way through the interview with as much moxy and wit as her twelve-year-old self could muster, and slaved for two days over that paper — and the teacher didn't think it was real! It wasn't fair!
After a few minutes of letting it all out, Vanellope angrily brushed the last few tears from her eyes and moved from crying to sulking. Suddenly, those rare bitter comments Ralph sometimes made about bias and judging books by their covers made a lot more sense. It wasn't just first impressions, it was status. Vanellope thought that word with as much venom as she could, which was quite a lot for her age.
It wasn't that the idea of a middle school student getting an interview with someone as high-profile as Elsa Winters was ridiculous … it was the idea that someone like her could do it. Her, Vanellope von Schweetz. Tomboy, orphan, and adopted daughter to a day laborer. She wasn't like Taffyta, who had clear and obvious connections through her lofty and well-off parents. And so it was so much easier to assume she'd made it all up.
Vanellope sighed wearily, suddenly so tired she just wanted to curl back up and nap. But she had homework to do, no matter her current attitude toward school. So she forced herself up and toward the kitchen, the imaginary fog of gloom still roiling above her head. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that the phone ringing made her jump almost to the ceiling.
"Rector Residence," Vanellope answered dully.
"Whoa, Van, you okay?"
"Anna?" Vanellope asked, the redhead's bubbly voice raising her spirits just a little.
"Were you expecting someone else?" Anna teased. "I was wondering if you got your assignment back. Kristoff and I have a bet going on whether it's a low or high A, and Elsa wants a copy when she can get one."
And just like that, Vanellope's mood came crashing back down. "It doesn't matter," she replied, too tired to even muster up some bitterness at the fact. "Miss Mary's not accepting it."
"Well of course she's- wait, what? Hold on, what'd you say? Why wouldn't she?!"
As much as Vanellope wanted to avoid thinking about it, the sheer sincerity in Anna's question snuck through her sorrow and straight into her heart. And so she spilled her heart out.
The next day, Mary Baker was surprised to find an email for a conference before lunch from Don, the school's principal. Odd, but not unheard of. Perhaps he wanted an update on the school's bi-annual bake sale.
She only found out how wrong she was when she stepped into one of the conference rooms to find that Don wasn't alone, instead accompanied by a woman Mary had only ever seen in the news and on the cover of business magazines.
In one of the provided chairs sat Elsa Winters herself, in a lavender business skirt suit and matching kitten heels, her hair done up in an elegant bun, sat with her legs elegantly folded and all the regality of a lioness. With the same grace, she stood up and fixed her gaze on Mary, her expression remote and cool, almost cold, and her very presence exuding authority.
"Miss Baker, I presume," Miss Winters said evenly, not a trace of warmth in the words, her hands behind her back in an equally confident and distant posture.
"Um, I-" Mary floundered for a moment in the presence of such a powerful figure before regaining her composure. "Yes, Miss Winters. But please," she approached and held out her hand with the friendliest smile she could muster, "call me Mary." Miss Winters glanced briefly at the proffered hand but made no move to take it, leaving Mary to stand there awkwardly before returning it to wringing her hands with nerves.
"Miss Baker," Miss Winters began, a subtle emphasis on her surname that suggested less-than-friendly ideas, "I realize this is somewhat unorthodox, but I have come to address a matter concerning one of your students."
"M-my students?" Mary asked, mind racing.
"Yes," Miss Winters confirmed, her countenance softening by a hair's breadth. "You see, this past Saturday I gave an informal interview to one of them for an assignment in your class. It was a delightful experience, and from what I hear the end product was quite exceptional." Then her eyes hardened like arctic ice. "And I've come to learn that her paper was rejected."
Mary had grown steadily paler with each word, suddenly very much aware of whom Miss Winters was talking about. "I-"
"From what I hear," Miss Winters interjected, her voice low, "her paper was rejected due to some perceived unlikelihood that this girl could come into contact with me. That it was assumed she had merely fabricated the event to avoid citing resources." Miss Winters's tone grew evermore cold, until a part of Mary wondered if her breath would begin to mist. She also realized that Miss Winters had steadily drawn closer until their shoulders were almost touching, the powerful woman looming over her.
"Do you know of whom I speak?" Miss Winters asked evenly, eyes hard and icy, boring into Mary with an intensity that made her shiver.
"Y-y-you m-mean Vanellope r-r-really …?"
"Yes, she did," Miss Winters confirmed. "And I must say, she performed admirably. She showed more professionalism and ethic than journalists thrice her age with a degree in their field. Granted, it was informal and for a middle school paper, but I remain impressed nonetheless."
"Now, now, ladies, please," Don tried to interject, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Miss Winters' eyes flashed at the contact and her icy gaze turned to him, forcing him to draw his hand back as if burnt.
"Miss Baker," Miss Winters continued, her tone of voice suddenly, blessedly, without that frigid edge, "I can understand why it would be difficult to imagine a middle-class young lady having the opportunity for a one-on-one interview with someone of my … stature," she admitted. "But I can assure you that her material is genuine. If you would like, I can even look over her work myself for any embellishments she may have added in."
Still trembling, Mary nodded faintly before turning and leading the way to her classroom. As they went, whispers followed them from the students and faculty in the hallways. Some of the more business or news-savvy individuals recognized Miss Winters, while others simply wondered who this lovely woman in a nice suit was.
Upon arriving at her classroom, it took only a few moments for Mary to rifle through her filing cabinet to find Vanellope's paper. Miss Winters delicately took it and began to quickly read it over. A few moments in, she chuckled, covering her lips with the tips of her fingers. After that, a gentle smile remained in her lips that seemed to transform her from a coldly indifferent business magnate to a genuine human being.
Upon finally finishing the paper, Miss Winters handed it back, her smile undiminished. "I can assure you, Miss Baker, that every word of this is genuine." She gently flicked the paper just out of Mary's reach. "And I can say it would be a shame to see such talent and effort go unrewarded." With that, she allowed the teacher to take it back.
Mary couldn't help but blush at Miss Winters' words. "I agree. I enjoyed reading this and told Vanellope as much. I suppose I should have at least looked into her claims that it was genuine, I just …"
'I doubted she could pull it off,' she mentally finished.
"I suppose I can understand that," Miss Winters conceded. "And while I have you here, I must say that I am impressed with this overall assignment."
Mary looked up in surprise. "I'm sorry?"
Miss Winters smiled gently. "In this modern world, employers look for creative and critical thinkers, those who can produce results that are effective and unique. I'm pleased to see this being reflected in the public school curriculum." Miss Winters began to turn, presumably to leave, but paused. "Oh, before I forget," she handed Mary a business card. "This has the information to contact my assistant. If it is legal, I would very much like a copy of that paper, please."
Mary took the card and tried to sort out her thoughts. After a moment, she smiled tightly. "Of course, Miss Winters. I'll have it sent as soon as I have the rest of them graded and handed back to the class."
"Thank you," Miss Winters replied. "That is very kind of you. Have a wonderful day, Miss Baker." And with that, Miss Winters took her leave.
Mary stood there staring at her classroom door until the lunch bell rang. That knocked some sense back into her and she thanked heaven that she had a conference period between lunch and her next class. Looks like she'd be eating while grading papers again.
After a long, long wait, chapter four is here! I had so much fun coming up with and writing this! Badass!Elsa is a thrill to write.
*Taffyta's surname in this work - Shepherd - is a reference to her canon surname "Muttonfudge." That is not only less realistic than "van Schweetz" but sounds kind of unappetizing. So, given that mutton is sheep meat, Shepherd is the way to go.
*Anna's comment about helping those less fortunate, which is everyone, is inspired by a line from "An American Tail."
*Vanellope's school is named after Trent Correy and Daniel Peixe, two of Ralph's character designers.
*Anna being a Joan of Arc fangirl is a reference to the song "Do You Wanna build A Snowman" when she tells the painting of an armored woman, "Hang in there, Joan." It's never fully confirmed that she's Joan of Arc, but who else could she be?
*Vanellope's teacher Ms. Mary is based on the Nicelander Mary who baked the huge cake in the first film - her surname "Baker" and investment in the bake sale was derived from that facet of the minor character. The principal is the Nicelander Don, the one who looks like he boats.
*Many of Mary's scenes were influenced by my own experiences as a teacher. They do encourage teaching critical thinking in school, but teachers are human and can make unfair assumptions. I hated to make her the bad guy, as i have experience with parents that - unlike Elsa - are genuinely unreasonable at best. But, plot is plot.
As always, thanks so much for reading! Leave a review if possible! Ans may your own works be fun to read and to write!