Chapter eleven

My type

"Hmm, how about her?" Rapunzel said, pointing across the cafeteria.

Anna looked at the girl she was pointing at. She was a redhead, decently tall, with laughing blue eyes.

She thought about it. "Maybe," she said.

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. "We're looking for a definitive yes or no answer here, hon."

"Then, I guess, no," Anna said. "I don't really want to go for any redheads."

"Really?" Eugene said curiously. "Is that a self-esteem thing?"

Anna sighed. "I told you, Eugene," she said, "My hair isn't red, it's called strawberry blonde."

"I still think you're making that up," Eugene said, folding his arms. "Looks pretty red to me."

"Focus, people," Punz interrupted. She gestured towards the lunch line. "How about third from the back over there?"

Anna glanced over and saw a familiar shock of blonde hair. "Aurora? She's straight, I thought."

"That is not the purpose of this experiment," Punz reminded her.

"Right," Anna said. She looked at Aurora in what she hoped was a non-creepy way, and scratched her chin thoughtfully. "You know what? Yeah, I think she's pretty hot."

"All right," Punz said happily. "Girl likes blondes."

"Guess so," Anna said, continuing to look at Aurora. Hey hair was a little frazzled, but Anna didn't mind. It kind of looked like Elsa's did early in the morning.

Meanwhile, Punz was scanning the crowd. "Let's see, blondes blondes blondes…" She gestured at a point over Anna's shoulder. "How about that tall gal over there?" she said.

Anna looked and saw a tall, frizzy-haired girl eating a few tables down. "Ooh, yeah," Anna said. "Definitely."

"All right, that's a yes to tall girls." Punz turned to Eugene. "How about you?" she asked. "She look cute to you?"

Eugene folded his arms. "Not falling for that one, babe," he said.

Punz smiled. "Smart boy."

Yeah, tall is nice, Anna thought. When you're cuddling together, they can pat you on the head and snuggle you in right under their head. Just like Elsa does.

Anna frowned. Okay, it's kinda weird that you keep bringing up Elsa when you're trying to look for a girlfriend, isn't it?

She tried to ignore this thought again, but it was getting harder to ignore the point. The more times she had to remind herself that she wasn't supposed to be thinking about Elsa in a romantic way, the weirder it became. Confusion was one thing, but this was starting to feel like…the opposite of confusion.

Rapunzel, thankfully, interrupted her train of thought by holding out her phone in front of her. "All right, now that we've narrowed down your type, let's get down to the nitty gritty."

The search bar read "tall blonde women", and the screen was filled with just that.

"Is this really necessary right now, Punz?" Anna asked, smiling weakly.

"Sorry," she said, withdrawing her arm. "I'm just so excited for you. You're finally getting the chance to have a real, healthy relationship!"

Anna smiled. "Thanks, Punz."

"And the way you told off Hans this morning!" she exclaimed. "I'm so proud!"

Anna scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, it felt good."

"I gotta admit," she said, "I was totally wrong about Elsa's idea. Turns out, it worked great for you! I never should've doubted you for a second."

"Oh, you don't need to apologize for that," Anna said, meaning every word of it.

With that, the three of them went back to eating. Anna, however, found herself continuing to think about what constituted her "type".

Let's see, what traits would I like in an ideal girlfriend?

Well, a good listener is a must. Someone who always cares about what I have to say. Cuddling is nice, but not mandatory. And physically fit – hell yeah, fit girls are hot. Someone who's adventurous, not afraid to go outside their own comfort zone. And going back to physical traits, maybe it's being too picky to be thinking about eye color, but I like blue eyes – icy blue, the kind you can lose yourself in.

Just like you-know-who.

Anna sighed. She ran through each of her descriptors, one by one. They all fit Elsa perfectly.

Okay, that's not that big of a deal. There's tons of tall, fit girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. Like that girl from your…homework. She fit all those descriptions, and she didn't remind you of-

Hang on.

She excused herself from the table, then headed for the women's room. Once she was in a stall, door locked, she pulled out her phone. She remembered the name of the video easily - she'd gone back to it a couple of times on Saturday – and in just a few seconds it was playing again. She paused and looked at the girl's face.

Okay, yep.

The woman was older by a couple of years, and her hair was just plain blonde, not platinum blonde. Other than that, she looked distressingly similar to Elsa. Even now, now that she was deliberately paying attention to all the similarities, it was still arousing her. The fact that she'd just been shopping around, looking at girls that bore strong resemblances to her sister didn't help one bit.

How the hell did I not notice that before?

Well, not consciously, anyway…

She put a hand to her head. She didn't have to have taken a year of psychology class to realize the implications, but the fact that she had served only to imply more.

Ugh, what do I do now?

It was a question with double meanings. In the long run, she had no idea what to do going forward from here. In the short term…she was alone in a bathroom, unhelpfully aroused, with a sexy video already playing.

With a resigned sigh, she unpaused the video and prayed that nobody else would enter the bathroom.

xxxxxxx

Sure, Elsa, you don't have to put on more aloe this morning. I'm sure you'll be fine. Fucking idiot.

Delicately, Elsa slid two fingers across her ruby-red arm, feeling deep relief as the aloe vera worked its magic. Just enough of the midday sun was peeking through the curtains that she could see what she was doing in the darkened room. She shrugged off her bra strap for a moment to get her shoulder, then put it back into place and began the other arm.

She really hadn't thought she was that susceptible to burning. Sure, she'd always been pale, but she never got sunburned when she was walking around campus all day. As she coated her left shoulder and moved to her collar, she noted, with amusement, the single pale strip of flesh on her shoulder against the ocean of red.

Still too pale, that's the problem. Even back in the day, when Anna was playing in the backyard and earning those freckles, I was always in the house, playing computer games. I should've been out there with Anna. Should've done a lot with Anna. Should've been together more…

Elsa caught herself. Her hand, which had coated the red patch on her collarbone, had started moving down to a place where she knew for a fact there was no sunburn. She yanked her arm away.

What do you think you're doing there? Groping yourself while thinking about Anna? Or can I just say it was Elsa Schneider that just groped me, and that'll absolve me of any guilt?

She grabbed more aloe and moved on to her legs – lower legs, thank you very much – and tried to banish those thoughts from her mind. Of course, it didn't fucking work. Now that the idea was in her head, she couldn't stop thinking about Anna.

Dammit, this week was supposed to be a reset button. Some time apart, to clear her head and remind herself of a few seemingly common sense things. And a chance to find another girl she liked, who wasn't a blood relative of hers. That's what Anna was probably doing right this instant, in fact.

I should call Esme up, we haven't seen each other in a while. In fact, I probably should've done that weeks ago.

As she swapped to her other leg, a thought occurred to her.

Why Anna, why now? All the girls I've dated so far have been brunettes. But even when I went to the gym this morning, I was checking out the redheads. So what the fuck's going on? Did I bump my head and flip the incest switch in my brain or something?

Legs done, she now moved up to her waist, attending to the burned strip around her waistline. She tried to calm herself, think of other explanations.

Maybe I've got this whole thing backwards. Maybe I just like redheads now, and that just so happens to include my sis. I've never not liked redheads. They are pretty cute, with their freckles, their sea-green eyes, cute little nose…

And now her fingers were heading south once again.

Elsa gasped as her fingers entered her. The aloe was cold. But soft…so soft…

She withdrew her hand, and tried to convince herself to stop screwing around and get dressed. But she hadn't done this in a while, either. And she was curious as to how it would go with the aloe.

She sighed and applied more lotion to her right hand. Her left hand reached for her phone, but she decided against it. Her mental images were enough.

Okay, let's go again. Redheads that aren't my sister.

She leaned back and laid down on the bed. One hand pushed her bra aside, whole the other reentered herself. Her well-lubricated fingers moved quickly to her most sensitive zone, and thrust back and forth.

She thought about Amber Heard, her red hair cascading down bare shoulders atop a glistening, wet body. She saw her standing in the room, striding to the bed, straddling Elsa's body. Elsa arched her back, and her fingers speed up. She flexed her toes, relishing the cracking noise they made.

She blinked, and the figure changed. Her curvaceous body was now slimmer, her fiery hair faded, and it now hung in dual plaits-

Not her! Elsa's mind said. But her body disagreed.

Her pleasure started to climb, and she could do nothing but continue. She slipped in a third finger, and the pleasure mounted even faster. Meanwhile, her vision of her sister leaned forward, crawling towards her.

Hey, sis. I did my homework. Wanna see what I learned?

Her climax was short and sweet. An intense burst of ecstasy, and just as sudden of a decline. Elsa say up and looked around the room. Still empty, still dark. The only signs of what had just happened were three fingers that were slightly wetter than they had already been, and the fast encroaching sense of shame that always followed, albeit with much more obvious of a cause.

Elsa sighed. "Okay," she said. "This is a problem."