Anna.

I cannot sleep at all, and obviously it is not because of the crappy mattress.

The memory of my first day at Arendelle High has been continuously replaying in my head. Most of those memories consist of Elsa.

I can't deny that she is incredibly beautiful. But her behavior was a bit odd. One second she would be relaxed, the next tense. And it would be because of something I'd said.

The guilt jabs into my lower abdomen. I shift in the horrible air mattress as I try to drift into slumber. But I find myself staring at the ceiling, my eyes wide and alert.

These emotions are completely foreign to me. Well, sort of. I know it is normal to be attracted to somebody, but I have never been infatuated with guys as much I have been with girls. My instinct tells me it should be vice versa.

Maybe you should try to date a guy. I fold my arms behind my head and stare at the ceiling. Then hopefully the really weird feelings will disappear.

But who?

I contemplate the question momentarily before I come to a conclusion: Hans.

He displayed obvious attraction towards me today, so if I show that I like him (do I actually like him?) back, then getting a boyfriend will be a piece of cake. He may be overwhelming and apparently a huge jerk, but maybe he can improve on those.

A small fraction of my brain is screaming, "But Elsa!"

I frown. I feel remorseful for planning on pursuing Hans when I know about Elsa's hatred of him. Elsa is my friend, and I do not want to lose her so quickly. She has a weird kind of importance to me.

Is Elsa my friend? I wonder. She helped me with my locker, she showed me that spectacular garden.

But am I her friend? I'm trying to go after her brother. That's a pretty low move.

I yawn. "Ugh, it's time to get to sleep, Anna," I tell myself softly, adjusting my fluffy pillow and resting my head on it. And then you can think through the Hans-Elsa thing.

I smile contentedly as I am slowly drifting off into slumber. Elsa...

XXX

Once I enter the school, Hans ambushes me.

He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. I press my hand against his hip to increase our proximity; I want to get close, but not that close.

He leans in close. "Hey."

His warm breath makes a shiver go down my spine. I shudder and he interprets it as a good sign.

"Hi," I say back. He grins smugly and begins talking about something I do not pay attention to. My eyes are darting around as I skim the hallway, searching for sign of Elsa.

Nothing.

"Where's Elsa?" I ask urgently, cutting Hans off. I know I am supposed to be listening to him, but my heart sinks when I can't find Elsa anywhere.

Hans raises an eyebrow. "Her locker is at the complete opposite end of the building," he tells me. "But she's here."

I internally sigh in relief. Elsa is my first acquaintance/possible friend here. I don't think I would survive the second day without her.

"Anyway, how're you feeling?" Hans waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "More specifically, how're you feeling with me?"

There is an emotion stirring throughout my whole body, and it's definitely not affection. It is a sinking, nauseating feeling that makes my face grow hot.

Jesus fucking Christ, you're getting male attention. You're supposed to be liking this.

"Amazing." I smile, but it feels forced.

Elsa. Elsa. Elsa.

I dismiss the alien thoughts and continue the conversation: "So, you're seventeen?" I rest my hand on his chest as an attempt to flirt; his eyes gleam with what I assume is (sexual) desire. "You're a senior, right?"

"Yup," he replies. He smirks. Okay, does this guy have a face condition or something? He smirks an unhealthy amount.

"You know, I've heard that some girls-sixteen-year-old redheads, for example-are in need of an older, more mature man."

Sixteen-year-old redheads? Oh...

My face flushes red; the emotion I am feeling has now been labeled as uncomfortable.

We were casually strolling down the hall as we talked; now, we are nearing the hallway that houses my locker. I take this as an opportunity to slip from his grasp.

"Hey, um, I've gotta go." I jerk my head towards my locker and begin to them around.

Wait, you have to show him that you like him.

"But I'll give you a call later," I add, and he smirks yet again.

His mocha eyes are twinkling in satisfaction. Then he frowns. "Wait, I don't have your number."

But I am already halfway down the hall, and I am not willing to them around just to scribble my number down. Do you even remember your number?

"I said I'd call you!" I yell back. "Jesus Christ..."

I completely round the corner, and my stomach does a somersault when I see a familiar head of platinum blonde hair patiently waiting beside my locker.

I grin, and this one feels more natural. I move against the congregation of students, occasionally apologizing for stepping on a stray foot or knocking somebody over. When I finally arrive at my locker, multiple glares are being directed my way and Elsa is shaking her head amusedly.

Her hair is in a loose braid like it was yesterday. Her outfit is different (jean jacket, plain t-shirt, ripped jeans, and Vans), but the color scheme is the same: Artic blues and blizzard whites.

"God, you are so uncoordinated," she snickers.

I roll my eyes and spin my combination. My locker creaks open and I begin gathering my necessities for my first three classes: Math, gym, and Spanish I. After those three is lunch, and then language arts, cooking (my elective), history, and lastly physics.

"You try pushing against a wave of brainless teenagers," I quip, choosing my words carefully. I do not want to upset her like I did yesterday. "I've always had two left feet anyway. I'm used to the remarks."

"Well, you aren't gonna enjoy gym class today," Elsa tells me, a smug grin on her lips. Her smirk has the opposite feel than her brother's; while his conveys self-satisfaction and arrogance, hers is playful.

I close my locker and my heart almost stops beating. I'm not sure if it's because of the seemingly bad news or the fact her icy blue eyes and piercing right through my soul. "Why?" I manage out.

"Because the 'physical' in 'physical education' starts today."

My eyes widen. "But it's the second day of school!" I exclaim, earning the attention of students nearby. I grab Elsa by the shoulders-her eyes widen as well and a tingly sensation shoots though my arms and warms my heart-and shake her. "Why the hell do we have actual gym on the second day or school?"

Elsa does not answer me; her eyes are squeezed shut and she is biting her lip enough to draw blood. Her cheeks are a light pink.

I release my grip on her shoulders and stuff my hands into the pockets of my purple sweatshirt. "Elsa?" I prompt uncertainly. Fear overcomes me; what if I've done something to irritate her? What if she's upset again? "Elsa?"

At the sound of her name, she opens her eyes and clears her throat. Her face is back to its pale complexion.

"Welcome to Arendelle High," she says with a shrug.

XXX

When the gym teacher, Mr. Miller, gave us the chance to choose where our gym lockers would be, I had selected the locker right next to Elsa's. She was a bit flustered, but she did not seem to mind. However, now I am not sure if it was the right choice.

My eyes are glued to Elsa's, erm, boobs. I don't know why, but I can't divert my gaze. It's like watching somebody die right in front of you: You want to look away, but you can't.

Except these are boobs.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks and I immediately tear my gaze away. Luckily, Elsa is too busy correcting her inside-out gym shirt to notice me staring.

As I slide my jeans off and snatch a pair of basketball shorts, I reprimand myself: Anna! It's rude to stare, especially at somebody's rack!

It takes a concerning amount of effort not to glance back. I slide on the gym shorts and place my jeans into my tiny, cubby-like gym locker. I grab my gym t-shirt (which has ARENDELLE HIGH printed onto the front along with the school's mascot, a knight) from the bench behind me.

As much as my mind is screaming at me not to, I glimpse back at Elsa.

BoObS.

And holy shit, she isn't wearing pants either. Her half inside-out shirt is balled up and resting at her feet. She is just in her white bra and panties. (The word "panties" makes me feel weird.) She is neatly her street clothes and placing them inside her locker.

Then, to my horror, her head turns and her vibrant eyes are staring right into mine.

Goddammit, Anna, you are not supposed to be staring at Elsa like that! Now she's going to think you're creepy and she won't talk to you anymore!

Oh yeah, and there's that thing with Hans...

My mouth is agape, my cheeks a furious red. Her cheeks are pink as well, but prominently darker than they were when she was supposedly blushing yesterday. Great-now she's really blushing.

After fifteen seconds of gawking at her, the situation hits me and I begin to ramble: "Erm, you look awesome! I mean, you usually look great-even though I've known you for almost two days, but I'm certain you look great on a daily basis-but standing in this locker room, with the lighting above you"-I gesture to the light above her-"and that outfit, you look spectacular."

Within two seconds, I realize what I have said, and I want to slam my head against the wall.

Elsa's blush is no secret now. She awkwardly smiles at me and says a thank you, but her eyes convey something other than gratefulness.

It is not terror. It is not disgust. It is fear.

Her eyes are distinctively darker now; she thanks me again, quietly, and resumes changing into her gym clothes.

The guilt makes my heart sink.

Awesome job. You upset her.

XXX

However, during third period, Elsa had returned to her normal behavior. Unfortunately, I was unable to talk to her for the whole period because she was surrounded by numerous girls, all clad in chic summer dresses and adorning jewelry.

Whoa, I had thought. Elsa never stuck me as the popular type.

Well, maybe it's because she's talking to your stupid ass for you to see her other friends.

Although her well-known friends have a kind and approachable exterior, the conversations they have show otherwise: Endless gossiping, fawning over their boyfriends. I couldn't help but grin when I saw Elsa roll her eyes at half of Ariel's comments.

Now it is lunchtime. Initially I had planned to swipe Elsa from the popular girls, but the blonde beauty is sitting at a round table right next to a gigantic window overlooking the parking lot. In fact, the whole outside wall is just one big window.

My eyes graze each round table, only to find almost each one fully occupied. The ones that aren't full have students glaring at me, a tacit way of saying, Fuck off.

All except for one table has students looking at me as if I'm scum, and it's the single round table at the corner of the room. There are only two occupants: A girl with blonde hair down to her waist and another girl with an untamed auburn mane.

I smile. Well, Elsa can't be my only friend.

I inwardly cross my fingers as I awkwardly stride over to the table. The blonde glances up at me, her green eyes wide and curious, but she settles into a smile.

She nudges her curly-haired friend, who looks up just as I set my tray down on the table. Some of her curly locks swept over her vibrant eyes.

"Can I sit here?" I ask politely. Oh God, is it Wednesday? Please don't quote Mean Girls...

The blonde nods eagerly; her cheeks are pink, but they seem to be natural. "Sure."

I smile gratefully and take a seat. The blonde is wearing a purple sundress, while her friend is sporting a green t-shirt and jeans.

The blonde holds out her hand. "My name's Elizabeth."

The redhead snorts. "Rapunzel," she corrects; she has a thick Scottish accent, so I assume she is a transfer. "Her real name's Elizabeth, but we all call her Rapunzel. You can tell why." She jerks her head and glimpses at her friend's golden locks pointedly.

Rapunzel rolls her eyes. "And that unpleasant person over there is Merida," she tells me. "She moved her from Scotland two years ago."

"And I've still got the accent!" Merida grins.

"I'm Anna," I introduce, shaking Rapunzel's hand. I must have gripped too enthusiastically, because she winces.

I withdraw my hand and look at her apologetically. "Sorry. I'm new here and I'm just really excited to make new friends."

Rapunzel grins. "You've come to the right people, then."

"Takes a lot of courage to walk up to two random people when you're a new student," Merida murmurs, as if she is analyzing my words. She nods in approval, reaching into her brown lunch bag and pulling out a Hershey's bar.

I do not acknowledge her admiration, though-my eyes are set on the chocolate bar, my mouth watering and my eyes wide.

Rapunzel glances at the chocolate bar, and then at me. "I see you like chocolate."

"Love," I amend. I lick my lips, earning a hearty laugh from Merida. "God, I love chocolate."

Merida places the tempting bar of goodness on the table and slides it over to me. I immediately catch it, desperately tear off the wrapper, and bite into it. The sweet, rich taste seeps into my taste buds and I moan in delight.

"That's going to be useful," Merida remarks, her blue eyes gleaming. They vaguely remind me of Elsa. "You know, for gettin' you to do stuff."

I smile at my two new friends.

Sorry for the late update! I've spent the whole day writing some other stuff and editing this!