Anna.

One thing I regret is dealing with my alcoholic father for so long. Another thing I regret is giving Hans my number.

Ever since we exchanged numbers a month ago-back in August-he has been sending me an endless innuendo text messages. I swear to God, the only two sentences he can construct are "haha" and "what are you wearing?"

My plan is to date him and banish those awkward feelings for Elsa, but he needs to hold his horses. I would rather not have to depend on my two closest friends to ward him off.

Speaking of my two closest friends, Rapunzel and Merida are the two people I have trusted the most-besides Kristoff and Olaf, of course-in my entire life. In this past month, we've learned a lot about each other: Rapunzel has this dangerous craving for adventure and Merida has three younger (and wild) brothers and contrastingly strict parents. Rapunzel has a gecko-lizard thing named Pascal, whom is always on her shoulder whenever she is at home. Merida has never really had a crush on anybody before. (In my opinion, it's better than being confused about who you like. My situation is fairly sucky.)

But although they are my closest-maybe best-friends so far, Elsa has this odd sort of aura about her; I have known her for a mere month, I have talked to her a decent amount (but not as much as we were in the first two days of school), yet I feel as if I can trust her with anything. She is calming to be around, always cool and collected. It's weird to describe somebody like that, but it isn't a lie.

A shiver travels down my spine. The garden on the roof, two hours ago. I might have hinted that I thought she is prettier than the flowers. And like my previous statement, it is not a lie. Appearance and personality-wise, she is attractive.

I really liked the blue jumper she was wearing, too. It matches her skin tone well.

As I am sitting cross-legged on the mattress attempting to dismiss Elsa from my mind as my homework lays abandoned, Kristoff enters my room. He leans against the doorframe, and I notice that his hair is slightly disheveled and his flannel shirt has buttons in the wrong holes. He yawns.

"Long day at the animal hospital?" I inquire smugly. He casts me an annoyed look before answering:

"Yup. Some dog threw up all its meds in the lobby. Guess who had to clean it up?" He asks the question miserably, and I giggle because I already know the answer to it. He is attending an online college to become a veterinarian, but he is also working in a animal hospital a few blocks away to help support us. His role isn't exactly honorable-he's some sort of janitor, cleaning up after dog shit and whatnot. The job isn't high-paying, either, but it's enough.

"You know what, don't answer," he snaps playfully. Despite his joking manner, he shudders. "God, that barf messed me up."

"That's what you get for working with animals," I point out.

He frowns, eyebrow arched as he analyzes me disgustedly. "This is what I get for our parents having sex."

I know it should not bother me, but the sentence provokes a dull, throbbing pain in my chest. The past is in the past-the hell we went through with my father is history. But it's hard to stop craving the attention you never received.

Kristoff notices my pain, and he immediately rushes over to my side. He plops down on the mattress beside me and rubs my back soothingly. "Shit, Anna, sorry for triggering those memories," he apologizes. The softness in his voice lets me know he is being genuine. "It was just a joke, but I guess I should stop joking about certain things."

I shake my head; all it is is a dull throbbing in my chest. I am not going to cry. "Kristopher, you really need to state some sort of trigger warning before you say things. Maybe that's why you've never had a girlfriend before."

His expression is now half-sympathetic, half-irritation. "Kristoff," he corrects agitatedly. "And I've never had a girlfriend because, and I quote the words of this girl I once asked out, 'I smell like reindeer.'" He shrugs, a baffled expression on his face. It makes me chuckle. "Sorry if my unhygienic habits ward you off."

I lean against his arm and nuzzle my face into his shoulder. I inhale deeply; his scent is a mix between fresh air and something absolutely horrendous. It has always reminded me of the forest and the outdoors and nature.

I pull my face away from his body and play an exaggerated frown on my lips. "You smell like shit." And it's true.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Whatever. I don't think odors are exactly that attractive."

In that moment, I wonder what Elsa smells like. Based off of what I know about her, she would probably smell minty, cool and fresh. Not only because she's just a cool person is general with her popularity, but also because she loves the winter. I can tell by the way her eyes lit up earlier when she was talking about its devastating beauty and the way her lips curled into a smile, the widest smile I had ever seen from her. I could tell by the passion burning in her eyes, the same kind of passion Kristoff has when he talks about obliterating puppy mills because they mistreat the dogs or Olaf has when he talks about swimming in a beach in the summer or maybe even me when I see chocolate. It is a certain sharpness in their eyes and a brightness in their expression.

And all I want to do know is hold Elsa in my arms so I can smell her.

My heterosexual-wired conscience kicks in: Jesus Christ, stop being gay! What would Hans smell like?

Probably of Axe, because that's what douchebag smells like.

Now I am torn between facepalming myself and giving myself a high-off.

"Who's Elsa and who's Hans? And why do you want to smell them?"

Damn my tendency to ramble unwittingly.

I prop my elbows onto my knees and rest my chin on my hands, stalling so I can think of a plausible response. I turn to look at my perplexed brother. "Elsa is a girl I met on the first day of school. Hans is a guy I met, too." Before Kristoff asks the second question, I reply, "And I'm just curious."

"Of scents?" Kristoff shakes his head at me. "Anyway, are these two people insane? You know, like Merida and Rapunzel?"

I smile widely, remembering the first time my two friends came over. Rapunzel had swiped over frying pan and ran around the house like a madman, Olaf right behind her. When Kristoff entered my room to confront us about why we were so rambunctious, Merida assembled a bow and arrow out of a rubber band and pencil and let it fly. My eyes subconsciously run over the wall to the left of my bed, where a pencil is still embedded into the wood.

"They're a lot more civilized, actually," I answer honestly. "Elsa and Hans Arendelle, descendants of the founders of this town."

Kristoff's eyes widen and he tilts his head skeptically. "So wait," he begins, "you're trying to tell me that these sophisticated people with morals actually choose to be around you?" He tries to keep his look confused, but a faint smile is visible on his lips.

I roll my eyes and lightly punch his shoulder. "Yes."

"Then you better stay on their good side," my brother advises. "This town is pretty much its own little government." He chuckles. "Its own little North Korea..."

I am about to reprimand him for making a terrible joke, but Olaf bounds into the room. He suddenly slips on a t-shirt haphazardly placed in front of the door and falls to the ground with a thud.

My hand flies over my mouth and Kristoff leaps to the rescue. "Whoa there, buddy," he croons softly as he gingerly helps our youngest brother into his feet. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

Olaf does not look hurt at all; there is a wide smile grin on his lips, and I am sure his eyes would be smiling as well behind the dark sunglasses he is wearing. "Nope! My head can never hurt!"

"Why's that-"

"I don't have a skull," Olaf cuts him off abruptly. All mirth has left his expression and it is now one of pure seriousness. "Or bones."

About thirty seconds pass before Kristoff replies with an uncertain "Okay then." He shakes his head vigorously, a habit he does when he is trying to dismiss an unwanted thought. "Alright. Anyway, is there anything you want to say?"

Olaf's grin returns to his face and I just notice the multicolored beach shirt he is wearing. "It's summer!" he announces, and as quickly as he arrived, he leaves. His joyous cries reverberate through the walls.

Kristoff looks at me with a weary smile. "Should we go chase after him?"

"Probably," I respond. With a nod tacitly agreeing to do so, we sprint after my summer-loving brother.

For a while, I forget about my father and Hans.

XXX

"Hans seems like a creep, to be honest," Rapunzel remarks, ripping off and piece of a bread roll and popping it in her mouth.

I am hungrily unwrapping a chocolate bar Merida has given me. Usually I would be completely inattentive at this point, but I have learned to spare some of my attention to my friends. If my mouth is too full of chocolate to thank them, acknowledging them is a way to show gratitude.

"Yeah," Merida agrees. She takes a long sip from her Coke can before setting it down and elaborating: "He is the most over-sexual guy I know, and I don't even know him that well. Trust me-you weren't around to witness, but he treats every girl like they're a queen."

I swallow the melted chocolate in my mouth. "Well, I don't see why that's bad-"

"The he fucks them," Rapunzel finishes. My heart heart sinks. "Hard. And after he fucks them, he dumps them just as hard." She takes a bite out of her pizza, still talking while she chews. "I don't understand why anyone would like him."

There is this painful urge in my heart to tell them how I feel about him. It is not coaxing or reassuring, but it is more demanding, aggressive. Instead of whispering "they have the right to know" in my head, it is screaming, "THEY MUST KNOW OF YOUR HETEROSEXUALITY!"

And although I have only known them for a month, they are my two closest friends. They seem to be the nonjudgmental type as well, so I guess I'm safe.

"Erm...speaking of Hans and liking." I pause and Merida shoots me an impatient look. "Maybe I like him. Maybe. I mean, he's cute, I guess, and he's smooth and funny and he texts me really cute stuff like 'send me a pic' and he smells spectacular-Axe, the smell of douchebag. On a scale from one to ten, he would be a five and a half, maybe a six point two on more generous days-"

"Anna," Rapunzel interrupts me. Her interruption makes me take a moment to wonder of my words were genuine.

I study my friends' expressions, praying for positive responses. Instead, they lack any emotion whatsoever: No reassuring smiles or disapproving frowns. I am not sure if this soothes my anxiety or not.

Rapunzel and Merida exchange deadpan glances, and a furrow in Rapunzel's eyebrows seems to be an unspoken way of saying something.

"Anna," Rapunzel finally says, "we're your friends. And as friends, it is our duty to always be there for each other regardless. We aren't going to stop talking to you just because we think your crush is a dick." She smiles, a relieving expression that relaxes my muscles.

"Plus, you can't help who you like," Merida adds; her tone is not self-assured like it always is, but rather self-doubtful. She is talking slowly, as if carefully running through her words. And this is something Merida never does-usually she is confident in herself. Despite her strongly for stepping out of your comfort zone, she seems uncomfortable.

Rapunzel has seemed to notice Merida's out-of-character behavior also. She glimpses between the two of us and rubs her hands together anxiously.

"We're your friends," Merida continues. "We haven't been friends since the age of the dinosaurs, but we've been friends long enough to care. Liking Douchetard"-Rapunzel clears her throat-"I mean, Hans is totally your choice and something you can't control. We just don't want you to get hurt." Rapunzel nods earnestly and the cheerful smile returns to her face. Merida strains a confident grin, but it isn't real enough. Obviously she is uncomfortable with this, but she has my support-and it is an amazing feeling, knowing that two other people, two people I have known for barely a month support me. This trust and attention is something I seldom received as a kid.

I throw my arms around them both, their heads bumping against each other's as they mash together. My mouth still full of chocolate, I manage out about a thousand thank you's.

After about thirty seconds and some odd looks, Merida playfully pushes me away, a real smile on her face now. "Okay, that's enough. Don't get too excited."

"Yeah, we accepted your crush on Hans, not your coming out," Rapunzel snorts.

And the guilt pools into my stomach at once, and I feel like I am about to vomit. Elsa. Hans. Feelings. Gay. Even though I just told them the truth, I feel like a liar.

Anna, Hans is a great guy. He's smooth, witty, and he gives you attention. That's all you need.

I wave my hand dismissively, struggling to keep a smile on my face. "Same thing."

Rapunzel snickers and elbows my side suggestively. "Hey, how about we leave lunch a few minutes early? Maybe we can catch Hans in the hallway." Merida ooh's and I roll my eyes.

"Fine," I agree. "But don't pull off any sneaky shit."

As we flee the cafeteria, I manage a quick glance at Elsa. But a quick glance is all I get, because I am pulled out into the hallway and dragged down the corridor to God knows where. I am distraught, because all I can feel now is the guilt that should not exist.

A/N: I just want to say thank you to whoever follows or favorites or comments or just reads this story! You all are awesome!

Anyway, updates may be coming in quite slowly-it takes me a while to think up of ideas and then write them down. Plus, fucking homework. Like damn.