Elsa.

The anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth-an exercise that always soothes my anger. I hear Anna's footsteps behind me, but I cannot gather the strength to glance back.

My brother infuriates me. He is a year older than me, and has been excessively spoiled right from the start. I mean, my family has an abundance of money, so I was spoiled as a child as well. However, although I was spoiled, I was different.

Hans has always been my parents' ideal child: Handsome, confident (he's more self-absorbed, in my opinion), and suave. On the contrary, I was hardheaded (I never enjoyed attending balls and would always rebel whenever I had to go to one), apparently untidy (I refused to wear any of the imperial clothing my mother purchased; I preferred more casual clothing), and "unfitting to maintain a civilization." The first two accusations I do not mind; the last one, however, I worry about endlessly.

Since my great-something grandmother established Arendelle, she was the mayor of it as well. Apparently females taking on positions of authority was such an achievement back in the 1800s, because the role of mayor is passed down to every female family member. The mayor cannot retire from her position until she grants the role to one of her daughters. My mother currently holds it, and since I am the only girl, I am supposed to be mayor next. I do not want to be responsible for this snobby-ass town, though. I have told my parents this many times (literally quoting those exact words), and they disapprove of my decision to not carry on the family tradition. I assume that is why they favor Hans more; although sleazy, he is obedient.

There is one more thing my parents would-if they knew-completely reject. To them, this idea is absolutely incredulous and disgusting. My conservative parents have discussed this topic numerous times, and they had no kind comments about the subject.

Homosexuality. Specifically, my homosexuality.

As I mentioned previously, they are completely unaware of my perverted thoughts. I cannot tell them because they would freak out and most likely do something drastic, like disown me or ship me off to some correctional facility. For God's sake, at first, they would not even believe it. They would assume it would be some sick joke. Hell, I don't even believe it. I cannot be gay. My mind must be playing tricks on me. (Homo delusions?)

Yet, whenever I see an attractive girl-Anna, for example-my heart flutters. My head spins; I feel as if I cannot breathe. I am accustomed to faking a confident aura when I am feeling a rush of powerful emotions within. Occasionally I will break. The subject of my affection will sometimes be so captivating that I will completely lose my cool. I will blush (it is subtle, though, thanks to my pale complexion) and lose my confidence. I become an awkward, flustered mess.

That's when the fear strikes. The fear that my homosexuality will become evident. If it becomes obvious, I will be rejected. I will lose the dwindling respect my parents have for me, and I will definitely wreck my reputation. I cannot even accept the fact that I might be a lesbian right now. I constantly dismiss the revolting thoughts; to my frustration, they always linger in the back of my mind, returning at the worst possible times. I like to think of them as an annoying bee that buzzes in your ear during a wedding. And then stings you a million times.

My life motto is Conceal, don't feel. It is obvious why.

Then there's Hans. The deceptive, disreputable asshole of a sibling. People often mistake him for being confident, when in reality he is conceited. There's a fine line between knowing your capabilities yet still acknowledging others and thinking you're the shit all the time. He is unknowing of my possible homosexuality, yet he always snatches the girls I am into with his misleading charm. As I cope with the heartbreak, he proceeds to fuck the living shit out of them (trust me-I've heard). Afterwards, he discards them without a second thought. It repulses me.

My parents adore him nonetheless.

I turn into another wide hallway, the maroon double doors leading into the gymnasium at the end of the hall. I hear the loud chatter of the five thousand students attending this school.

My jaw tightens at the thought of my "friends." Depending on perspective, being rich either has many pros or many cons. I see it as having an innumerable amount of downsides: Friends who smooch off of you (apparently if you don't take them out to a five-star restaurant and buy them name brand clothing, you are a "fake friend"), unwanted popularity, high expectations, an expected behavior due to stereotypes, etcetera.

I hate it.

When Anna and I reach the end of the hallway, I turn to look at her. She is gazing at me intently, as if scrutinizing me. After I snapped back there when Hans was hitting on her, I am not surprised she is apprehensive. However, instead of brushing it aside, I find myself studying her features. Her eyes are a murky blue-green. Freckles pepper her cheeks and nose. I inwardly squeal; freckles are adorable. I notice something quite unusual: A single blonde streak in her scarlet hair. I wonder if she was born with it. I admire her height too. She is approximately three inches shorter than me; if we were to hug, her head would rest on my shoulder. I now have the urge to wrap my arms around her. My lips naturally curl into a smile. Her appearance may be childlike, but it is also breathtaking.

I courteously push open the right door, the sound of the students' chatter more prominent. I gesture for her to enter. "After you."

Her calculating expression drops and is replaced by a broad grin. She happily enters the gymnasium, not forgetting to say, "Thank you."

My heart skips a beat and I rush after her. She is not walking very fast; she is gazing at the humongous gym in awe, her mouth gaped open. Thousands of students are seated on the bleachers. "Holy shit," she breathes, alternating her gaze from the entire student body to me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to awe you." I flinch as my brother places a hand on Anna's left hip. He is smirking deviously. Anna immediately tenses up, which boosts my self-esteem.

See, you make her uncomfortable, I think as I direct a glare at my brother. Now fuck off.

"How're you liking Arendelle High so far?" Hans inquires, fully wrapping an arm around her waist. Disregarding my presence, he leads her towards the bleachers.

My face burns red with rage. How dare he mislead Anna like that! I am about to go after them when a thought enters my mind: You are being disgusting. And gay.

I bite my lip and hang my head in shame. I cannot believe I let myself slip like that. I must take caution; this crush will blow over quickly.

Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel, I chant to myself as I stride over to where Hans and Anna are. They are sitting at the top of the bleachers. Hans has an arm lazily draped around Anna's shoulders. He is obviously trying to get close to her; I can tell by the way he is rubbing her right leg. Anna's face is bright red.

I feel a dull pang in my chest. I grit my teeth together and ignore it, making my way up the bleachers.

Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't-

"Elsa!" Anna gives me a weak smile. "You're here! Yay!"

Hans shrugs. "Meh."

I strain a smile and plant myself beside Anna. I turn to look at her and my eyes widen I see her leading in towards me. My heart is thumping in my chest like a bass drum and dozens of thoughts race through my head. Is she going to kiss me?

Instead, she whispers into my ear: "Your brother is very, erm, straightforward." Her warm breath sends shivers down my spine.

I am disappointed that she did not kiss me, but her statement makes me grin. "I know right? Sorry."

She shakes her head. "It's okay. He's nice."

This makes my spirits drop. I shrug; meanwhile my mind is screaming, No, he is not! He is a sleaze and a jerk and a dickhead! For fuck's sake, he made an unwanted move on you! Doesn't that count as sexual assault or something?

I console myself once I realize the error of my ways. Goddammit, Elsa, stop thinking that way, I scold myself. She's obviously straight and into Hans. As much as it hurts you, let it happen. Just let her get hurt. She'll get over it.

As Mr. Oaken begins discussing the new school year, I zone out to my mind repeating, Conceal, don't feel.

XXX

After the uninteresting assembly, I asked Anna if I could see her schedule. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), we coincidentally have share all of our classes together.

My first thought was Are you fucking kidding me?

Right now it is fourth period-lunch. I am walking towards the cafeteria, five dollars in hand. Normally I indulge in a bag of Lays chips and an ice-cold soda. I enter the cafeteria, the smell of pizza and French fries invading my nostrils. I glimpse at the circular table near the window, the table I usually sit at with all my "friends."

Somebody else catches my eye: Anna, who is awkwardly standing with a full tray off to the side. She is smiling weakly at those who pass by; in return, they ignore her.

I glimpse back at my reserved table. The clique of egotistic girls I hang out with are deep in conversation. Probably talking about nails or something.

I look back at Anna and chuckle at her awkwardness. She is shifting feet and smiling sheepishly.

I shake my head in amusement and approach her. "Need somewhere to sit?"

She yelps in surprise, her face flushing red. "Yes," she admits.

A lightbulb goes off in my head; I grin mischievously. "Well, we don't have to eat in here."

She raises an eyebrow, and before she can ask any questions, I am dragging her out into the hallway, a surge of self-assurance coursing through my veins.

XXX

"Holy shit, there's a garden on the roof?" Anna nearly drops her tray of pizza and milk; she is grinning from ear to ear as she gazes at the school's abandoned garden. It's not completely abandoned-somebody tends to it every once it a while. The garden is a basically a greenhouse on top of the roof. It is small in comparison with the rest of the school. There are numerous rows and shelves of multicolored plants and pots of bonsai trees reside. Vines run down from the ceiling, creating beautiful swirls and twists.

I deeply inhale the scent of dirt and nature. A few windows are open, allowing the sunshine to seep in. I embrace the warmth, although I'd prefer a cool breeze.

"Elsa," Anna says.

I feel my heartbeat race. You should make out with me. "Yes?"

"How do you know about this place?"

I smile fondly. "The school had a gardening club last year. I joined for two trimesters. In the last trimester it got cut off."

She juts out her bottom lip in a pout. "But why?"

"Not many people were interested," I inform her, shaking my head.

"Why not?" she demands. I almost chuckle at how upset she genuinely is.

"Don't know. I forgot to ask each student personally."

She smacks my arm playfully. "This is like High School Musical," she comments. She sets her tray down on the ground and observes a lily carefully.

"High School Musical?" I question.

"Yeah, with the garden on the roof. Except that garden was much bigger." She pokes the stem of the plant, eyes widening. "Oh my God, it moves!"

I roll my eyes and follow her as she examines each plant.

"If there isn't a gardening club, why do they keep the garden on the roof?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

She frowns and there is a stab of remorse in my chest. "What did I say about taking my words personally?" I place a hand on her shoulder; electricity expels through my arm and into the rest of my body. "They couldn't demolish it because it's on the roof. It isn't exactly easy to get rid of."

Anna nods and saunters off to the side of the greenhouse. Slowly, she traces her hand down the soft vines. "Beautiful."

I smile as I watch her fascinate over all the nature. "Beautiful is correct."

I am not sure if I am referring to the plants or her.

XXX

At the end of the day, I cannot prevent myself from thinking of Anna.

Although my locker is on the second floor and on the opposite end of the building, I have a strange urge to accompany her. My mind is overcome with the foreign impulse to talk to her, be there for her...protect her.

I slam my eyes shut, banishing my sick thoughts. My voice reverberates in my mind: Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal-

"Elsa!" two obnoxious voices chime in from behind me.

My eyes shoot open and my jaw stiffens. Anastasia and Drizella Tremaine, the snobby sisters. They are not twins (Anastasia is seventeen and Drizella is fifteen), but they greatly resemble each other: Large noses, exquisitely tanned skin, and beady eyes. The only physical difference is that Anastasia has bright red hair (which she dyed) and Drizella has dark brown hair. Aside from their appearances, their personalities are similar. Both are unbearably snobby and rude, although Drizella is the more tolerable one of the two.

"Ana. Drizella. Nice to see you." Please don't talk to me.

"Hey! Guess what tomorrow is?" Ana asks for the umpteenth time.

I grab my blue purse from my locker, occupying my hands so they cannot strangle her. "Your eighteenth birthday," I answer, forcing a giggle.

She beams. "God, I can't wait to turn eighteen!" She leans against the locker beside me, sighing dreamily. "I'll be an adult-freedom and no rules! Plus, I'll be able to get my own place." She elbows her sister with a wink.

Drizella rolls her eyes. "And because our parents are rich, she doesn't even have to work for it."

Ana smirks. "Maybe I'll find some adult romance." She winks suggestively.

The youngest Tremaine shudders in disgust and my heart skips a beat at "romance." To my own horror, the word reminds me of Anna-not icky Ana, but pretty Anna.

"I have to go somewhere," I announce, closing my locker. I glimpse up at the wall clock. Three twenty-six. Four minutes until the buses arrive to retrieve us.

Drizella casts me a weird look. "Where?"

I wave my hand dismissively. "Somewhere important." Without allowing them to press me further, I dart past them and weave through the thick crowd of students. My imposing appearance makes students instinctively move out of the way for me, so traveling across the entire school is easy.

I rush down the stairs and my throat dries when I see her: Anna, hastily shoving her books into her locker, her face burning red with embarrassment. I stride towards her; she is immersed in getting her stuff in time that she is oblivious of my presence.

I smirk impishly and bang my fist against the metal locker beside hers. The clanging sound resounds throughout the hallway, and Anna jumps and yelps.

When she sees it is me, she gives me a lighthearted glare. "You're such a wonderful person," she drawls sarcastically, collecting her algebra textbook and shoving it into her backpack. "Punching lockers and scaring weak-hearted people and whatnot."

I wink; this causes her flush crimson red. I feel my face heating up as well, but not as much as my heart is. "How was your first first day at Arendelle High?" I inquire.

She shrugs. "It was okay, at the most. Arendelle, though...such a disgraceful name."

I know she is joking, but her words are a reminder that one day, I will be responsible for this town. It will be my duty to run this school, manage the budget, and keep this place thriving. I will have to take on a job I do not want.

I must have conveyed my pain somehow, because Anna gently places her hand on my arm. It is intended to be comforting, but I imagine my parents' disappointed faces and I recede my arm.

"Totally," I agree flatly, straining a smile. From behind her, Hans is grinning smugly.

Jesus fucking Christ, Elsa.

A/N: If you're wondering, Anastasia and Drizella are Cinderella's stepsisters.