Elsa's POV
In my dream it was very dark, and what dim light there was seemed to be radiating from Anna's skin and sound saying made me feel sorry for her. I couldn't see her face, just her back as she walked away from me, leaving me in the blackness. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't catch up to her; no matter how loud I called, she never turned. Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, she was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the periphery, never within reach.
The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing.
To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of that week. Hiccup Haddock was impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince him what I wanted more than anything else was for him to forget all about it— especially since nothing had actually happened to me— but he remained insistent. He followed me between classes and sat at our now-crowded lunch table. Jack and Aladdin didn't seem to like that; they flashed more side-eye at him than they did at each other, which made me worry that I'd gained another unwelcome fan.
No one seemed concerned about Anna, though I explained over and over that she was the hero— how she had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed, too. I tried to be convincing. Cinderella, Jack, Aladdin, and everyone else always commented that they hadn't even seen her there till the van was pulled away.
I wondered to myself why no one else had seen her standing so far away, before she was suddenly, impossibly saving my life. With chagrin, I realized the probable cause— no one else was as aware of Anna as I always was. No one else watched her the way I did. How pitiful.
Anna was never surrounded by crowds of curious bystanders eager for her firsthand account. People avoided her as usual. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, not eating, talking only among themselves. None of them, especially Anna, glanced my way anymore.
When she sat next to me in class, as far from me as the table would allow, she seemed totally unaware of my presence. Like my seat was empty. Only now and then, when her fists would suddenly ball up— skin stretched even whiter over the bones— did I wonder if she wasn't quite as oblivious as she appeared.
I wanted very much to talk to her, and the day after the accident I tried. The last time I'd seen her, outside the ER, we'd both been so agitated. I still was angry that she wouldn't trust me with the truth, even though I was keeping my part of the bargain flawlessly. But she had in fact saved my life, no matter how she'd done it. And, overnight, the heat of my anger faded and I began to realize that I hadn't really thanked her properly.
She was already seated when I got to Biology, looking straight ahead. I sat down, expecting her to turn toward me. She showed no sign that she realized I was there.
"Hello, Anna," I said pleasantly, to show her I wasn't upset anymore.
She turned her head a fraction toward me without meeting my gaze, nodded once, and then looked the other way to me she still pretty nervous .
And that was the last contact I'd had with her, though she was there, a foot away from me, every day. I watched her sometimes, unable to stop myself— from a distance, though, in the cafeteria or parking lot. I watched as her golden eyes grew perceptibly darker day by day. Then abruptly they were honey-colored again. And the slow progression continued. But in class I gave no more notice that she existed than she showed toward me. I was miserable. And the dreams continued.
I tried to figure out her attitude and I kept coming back to the same thought; she wished she hadn't pushed me out of the way of Hiccup's van. She said herself that day that she didn't know why she had saved me. The thought ate away at me.
Despite my outright lies, the tone of my e-mails alerted Iduna to my depression, and she called a few times, worried. I tried to convince her it was just the weather that had me down.
Jack, at least, was pleased by the obvious coolness between me and my lab partner. I mused that she'd been worried that Anna's daring rescue might have made us best buddies, and she was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. She grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before Biology class started, ignoring Anna as completely as she ignored us.
The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Jack was disappointed she'd never gotten to stage her snowball fight, but pleased that the beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, though, and the weeks passed.
Cinderella made me aware of another event looming on the horizon— he called the first Tuesday of March to talk to me about the girls' choice spring dance in two weeks.
"So, just to be clear… you weren't planning on asking me… right?" She asked carefully. "Because, I mean, we hang out a lot but I assumed…" his voice trailed off.
"I wasn't planning on asking you , Cinderella." I was somewhat surprised she thought there was the possibility that I would want to.
"I always figured you were…" she stopped short to rethink her phrasing, "I mean when I first met you I guessed… uh, that I wasn't your type?" she said it so delicately, like she was afraid of offending me.
There was a silence for a moment and then we both laughed.
"You're right. You're not my type, Cinderella." I couldn't help but smile. "But thanks for thinking of me."
"Jack Frost " Uh oh. I still hadn't determined if Jack constantly following me around was just her being overly friendly or something more.
"Yeah! She's just so pretty" she was clearly excited, "she hangs out with you a lot, what do you think?"
I didn't want to say that I thought Jack might not be interested her in the same way I wasn't interested, but at the same time she had sensed where my attractions lie fairly quickly so maybe I was wrong.well i did like boys but i liked girls more. Maybe Jack was the same.
"You have fun with Jack," I encouraged.
The next day, I was surprised that Cinderella wasn't her usual gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes, and I was afraid to ask him why. If Jack had turned him down, it meant I was right but I hoped I was wrong, for Cinderella's sake.
My fears were strengthened during lunch when Jeremy sat as far from Jack as possible, chatting animatedly with Hiccup. Jack was unusually quiet.
Jack was still quiet as she walked me to class, the uncomfortable look on her face a bad sign. But she didn't broach the subject until I was in my seat and she was perched on my desk. As always, I was electrically aware of Anna sitting close enough to touch, as distant as if she were merely an invention of my imagination.
"So," Jack said, looking at the floor, "Cinderella wants me to ask him to the spring dance."
"That's great." I made my voice bright and enthusiastic. "You'll have a lot of fun with Cinderella."
"Well…" he floundered as he examined my smile, clearly not happy with my response. "I told her I had to think about it."
"Why would you do that?" I let disapproval color my tone, though I was relieved he hadn't given him an absolute no.
His face was bright red as she looked down again. I began to feel nervous.
"I was wondering if… well, I was thinking maybe we could… you know… You and me could… go." If it was possible, her face got even redder. "Like, stag. Go stag. Together."
I paused for a moment, feeling horribly awkward. I hoped my face didn't betray how I felt. From the corner of my eye, I saw Anna's head tilt reflexively in my direction.
"Jack, I think you should ask her," was all I could think to say.
"Did someone already ask you to go?" Did Anna notice how Jack's eyes flickered in her direction?
"No," I assured him. "I'm not going to the dance at all."
"Why not?" Jack demanded.
I didn't want to get into the safety hazards that dancing presented, so I quickly made new plans.
"I'm going to Seattle that Saturday," I explained. I needed to get out of town anyway— it was suddenly the perfect time to go.
"Can't you go some other weekend?"
"Sorry, no," I said. "So you shouldn't make Cinderella wait any longer— it's rude."
"Yeah, you're right," she mumbled, and turned, dejected, to walk back to her seat.
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push the guilt and sympathy out of my head. What a mess, even though Jack didn't outright ask me I couldn't help but feel bad. Not just for her, but for Cinderella, too, who clearly liked her. Mrs. Banner began talking. I sighed and opened my eyes.
And Anna was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in her black eyes.
I stared back, surprised, expecting her to look quickly away. But instead she continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes, like she was trying to find something very important inside them. There was no question of me looking away. My hands started to shake.
"Ms. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I hadn't heard.
"T-t-the Krebs Cycle," Anna answered, seeming reluctant as she turned to look at Mrs. Banner.
I looked down at my book as soon as her eyes released me, trying to find my place. I couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me— just because she'd happened to look at me for the first time in six weeks. I couldn't allow her to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.
I tried very hard not to be aware of her for the rest of the hour, and, since that was impossible, at least not to let her know that I was aware of her. When the bell rang at last, I turned my back to her to gather my things, expecting her to leave immediately as usual.
"E-E-Elsa?"
Her voice shouldn't have been so familiar to me, as if I'd known the sound of it all my life rather than for just a few short weeks.
I turned slowly toward her, not wanting to feel what I knew I would feel when I looked at her too-perfect face. I'm sure my expression was guarded; hers was unreadable.
She didn't say anything.
"Yes?" I asked.
She just looked at me.
"So are you or are you not speaking to me again?" I finally asked with an unintended but slightly petulant tone to my voice.
Her lips twitched, fighting a smile.
"N-no, not really," she admitted.
"Okay." I closed my eyes and sighed. She waited.
"Then what do you want, Anna?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed; it was easier to talk to her coherently that way.
"I-i'm sorry." She sounded sincere. "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really."
I opened my eyes. Her face was very serious.
"I don't know what you mean," I said, my voice hesitant.
"It's better if we're not friends," she explained. "Trust me."
My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that before.
She seemed surprised by my reaction.
"What are you thinking?" She asked, her voice seemed softer but I could see frustration in her face.
"I guess… It's just too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I sighed, again. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."
"R-regret?" My answer seemed to have caught her off guard. "Regret for what?"
"For not just letting Hiccup's van crush me."
She looked completely shocked. She stared at me in disbelief for a moment and when she finally spoke she almost sounded mad.
"You think I regret saving your life?" the words were quiet, but intense.
"I can tell that you do," I was exhausted by her mood swings, "I just don't know why."
"You don't know anything." She was definitely mad.
I had reached my limit. Her mood swings were too much for me to deal with today. I gathered my books together, then stood and walked to the door.
I needed to be out of the room—make a point with a dramatic exit—but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the doorjamb and dropped my books. I stood there for a moment, thinking about leaving them.
Then I sighed and bent to pick them up. She was there; she'd already stacked them into a pile. She handed them to me, her face hard.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
"You're welcome," she answered. She still sounded mad, but there was something else in her voice that I couldn't quite identify.
I straightened up swiftly, and hurried off to Gym without looking back.
Gym was brutal. We'd moved on to basketball. My team never passed me the ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. Sometimes I took people with me.
Today I was worse than usual because my head was so filled with Anna. I tried to concentrate on my feet, but she kept creeping back into my thoughts just when I really needed my balance.
It was a relief, as always, to leave. I couldn't wait to be back inside my truck, alone.
The truck was in decent shape after the accident, all things considered. I'd had to replace the taillights, and if the paint job wasn't already hopeless, I would have touched up the new scrapes. Hiccup's parents had to sell their van for parts.
I almost had a stroke when I rounded the corner and saw a figure leaning against the side of my truck. Then I quickly realized it was just Aladdin. I started walking again.
"Hey, Aladdin," I called.
"Hi, Elsa."
"What's up?" I said as I fumbled with my keys. I wasn't paying attention to the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words took me by surprise.
"Uh, I was just wondering… if you would ask me to the spring dance?"
"I'm… I'm not going to the dance, Aladdin." I said, too startled to be diplomatic.
I had to turn and look at him then. His face was down, his black hair hiding his brown eyes.
"Oh, okay."
I recovered my composure and tried to make him feel better. "Thank you for considering me, but I'm going to be in Seattle that day."
"Oh," he said. "Well, maybe next time."
"Sure," I said without thinking. I didn't want to encourage him to pursue the impossible.
"See ya," he waved over his shoulder as he hurried off before I could set things straight.
I heard a low chuckle.
Anna was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, her lips pressed together. I jerked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it a little too hard behind me.
I revved the deafening engine and reversed out into the aisle. Anna was in her car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off.
She stopped there— to wait for her family; I could see the four of them walking this way, but still by the cafeteria. I considered taking out the rear of her shiny Volvo as revenge for her ridiculous mood swings, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rearview mirror. A line was beginning to form.
Directly behind me, Hiccup Haddock in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to acknowledge him.
While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but at the car in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Hiccup.
I glanced back in my rearview mirror, confused. His car was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway down, then gave up.
"I'm sorry, Hiccup, I'm stuck behind Cullen." I gestured to the Volvo. Obviously there was nothing I could do.
"Oh, I know— I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here." He grinned.
I sighed, "Oh? What?"
"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" he continued.
What was going on in this school? I knew for a fact that Hiccup did not like redheads at all so what the hell was going on.
"I'm not going to be in town, Hiccup." My face was red. I could tell.
"Yeah, Jack said that," he grinned.
"Then why—"
He shrugged. "I was hoping you were just letting him down easy."
"I wasn't." I was having trouble hiding my frustration, "besides, i thought you didnt like redheads?" Im a redhead
"Usually, but I thought maybe you'd like to have someone to go with as a date instead of going stag."
His self-assured cockiness would normally charm me in different circumstances, but today it just added to my annoyance.
"Sorry, Hiccup," I said, working to hide my irritation. "I really am going out of town."
"That's cool. We still have prom."
And before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the shock on my face. I looked forward to see Alice, Rapunzel, Cassandra, and Jasper all sliding into the Volvo. In her rearview mirror, Anna's eyes were on me. She was unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if she'd heard every word Tyler had said. I revved the engine, wondering how much damage it would do to the Volvo and the black car beside it if I just muscled my way through and made my escape. I was pretty sure my truck could win that fight.
But they were all in, and Anna was speeding away. I drove home slowly, carefully, and thoroughly confused. Was Makayla going to ask Jeremy to the dance? Would he blame me if she didn't? Was Hiccup serious about taking me to the dance? Or prom? At least fretting over all this drama kept my mind off Anna.
When I got home, I decided to make chicken enchiladas for dinner. It was a long process, and it would keep me busy. While I was simmering the onions and chilies, the phone rang. I was almost afraid to answer it, but it might be Agnarr or my mom.
It was Cinderella, and she was jubilant; Jack had caught her after school to ask her to the dance. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. Maybe Jack liked other girls after all. he had to go; he wanted to call tiana and astrid to tell them. I suggested— with casual innocence— that aurora , a reserved, intelligent girl who had rarely spoke to me at the lunch table, could ask Hiccup; I'd heard he was still available. Cinderella thought that was a great idea. he still sincerely wished I would go to the dance. I gave him my Seattle excuse.
After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner— dicing the chicken carefully; I didn't want to take another trip to the emergency room. But my head was spinning, trying to analyze every word Anna had spoken today. What did she mean when she said it was better if we weren't friends?
My stomach twisted in knots as I realized what she must have meant. She must see how absorbed I was by her; she must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't even be friends...or something else...… because she wasn't interested in me at all.
Of course she wasn't interested in me, I thought dejectedly, my eyes stinging— a delayed reaction to the onions. Besides, even if he liked girls,and boys like me I wasn't interesting. And he was. Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful… and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand.
Well, that was fine. I could leave her alone. Iwouldleave her alone. I would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.
Agnarr seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. My mom was famous for her disastrous Mexican food. But he was still game to take the first bite. He seemed to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the kitchen.
"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.
"Yeah, Elsa?"
"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday… if that's okay?" I didn't want to ask permission— it set a bad precedent— but I felt rude, so I tacked it on at the end.
"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something that Forks couldn't offer.
"Well, I wanted to get a few books— the library here is pretty limited— and maybe look at some better winter clothes." I had more money than I was used to having, since, thanks to Agnarr, I hadn't had to pay for a car. Not that the truck didn't cost me quite a bit in the gas department.
"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he said, echoing my thoughts.
"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia— and Tacoma if I have to."
"Are you going all by yourself?"
"Yes."
"Seattle is a big city— you could get lost," he fretted.
"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle— and I can read a map, don't worry about it."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
I wondered if he was really that worried about me, or if he just thought all the Saturdays he'd left me alone were starting to add up to neglect. He was probably worried. I was sure that, in his head, he still pictured me as five-years-old most of the time.
"That's okay, dad. It probably won't be that exciting, anyway."
"Okay, Elsa."
"Thanks." I smiled at him.
"Will you be back in time for the dance?"
I just stared back at him until he got it.
It didn't take him long. "Oh, that's right," he realized.
"Yeah." I laughed. I didn't get my balance issues from my mom.
The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo.
I didn't want to see her. I wanted to keep my distance, to not notice her anymore.
Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle at my feet.
As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Anna Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.
"How do you do that?" I gasped.
"Do what?" She held my key out as she spoke. As I reached for it, she dropped it into my palm.
"Appear out of thin air."
"Elsa, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." Her voice was quiet as usual— velvet, muted. Her lips were holding back a smile, like she thought I was hilarious.
I glared at her perfect face. How was I supposed to ignore her if she kept talking to me? Wasn't she the one that said it would be better if we weren't friends? Her eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. I had to look down to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts.
"Why the traffic jam last night?" It was the only thing I could think to say. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist."
"That was for Hiccup's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." She snickered.
"What?" I asked, perplexed. Irritation started to grow in my mind; had she put Hiccup up to asking me to the dance? That didn't seem likely. My confusion seemed to amuse her.
"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," she continued.
I met her eyes, trying to remain as focused as I could despite myself. "I don't know what you want from me," I told her.
Her amused expression quickly disappeared. Her face seemed guarded.
"Nothing." She said too quickly, almost like she was lying.
"Then you probably should have let the van take me out. Easier that way."
She stared for a second. Her lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humor gone.
"Elsa, you are utterly absurd," she said, her low voice cold.
My stomach was in the tightest of knots. I turned my back and started to walk away.
"Wait," she called.
I kept walking, sloshing through the rain and forcing myself not to look back. But she was next to me, easily keeping pace.
"I'm sorry, that was rude," she said as we walked.
I ignored her.
"I'm not saying it isn't true," she continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."
"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.
"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," she chuckled. She seemed to have recovered her good humor.
I sighed, but I slowed down. "Fine, then. What do you want to ask?"
"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday— you know, the day of the spring dance—"
"Are you trying to befunny?" I interrupted her, wheeling toward her. My face got drenched from the rain as I looked up at her expression.
Her eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"
Walk away,I told myself.
I didn't move.
"I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride."
That was unexpected.
"What?" I wasn't sure what she was getting at.
"Do you want a ride to Seattle?"
"With who?" I asked, mystified.
"Myself, obviously." She enunciated every syllable, like she thought maybe English wasn't my first language.
I was still stunned. "Why?"
"Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I'm not sure if your truck can make it."
"My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern." I started to walk again, hoping she wouldn't follow. She did.
"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" She matched my pace again.
"I don't see how that is any of your business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.
"The wasting of finite resources is everyone's business."
"Honestly, Anna." I felt a thrill go through me as I said her name, and I didn't like it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend."
"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."
"Oh, thanks, now that'sallcleared up." I said, my voice rich with sarcasm. I realized I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could more easily look at her face. Which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.
"It would be more… prudentfor you not to be my friend," she explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Elsa."
Her eyes were gloriously intense as she uttered that last sentence, her voice smoldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.
"Will you go with me to Seattle?" she asked, her voice still intense.
I couldn't speak yet, so I just nodded.
She smiled briefly, and then her face became serious.
"You really should stay away from me," she warned. "I'll see you in class."
She turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.
