Later Kristoff drove Vanessa and Anna home. As they piled into his beat-up-as-fuck '57 Ford Anna remained unusually silent. They didn't question her on it; perhaps it was attributed to evening exhaustion.
When she slipped out of the car's back door and into her dark and quiet home the pinpricks came back. She took off her shoes and carried them down the narrow hall. Up the stairs, and then she looked to the left. Her parents' bedroom door was shut, as always by this time, the people inside lost in sleep after a long day. It was a sight she'd grown used to, yet a heavy dread slid down her back. There was something not quite right about lying to her best friend, and tentatively she thought back to what had been revealed over the past couple months. In reality she really did tell Vanessa things about her parents, little things like how they were so busy they rarely spent time with her. That they seemed to keep secrets from her. These were things Kristoff picked up quickly, but did not address until Anna was ready.
Vanessa, on the other hand, was eager for information. And Anna gave it to her, even when she felt herself rambling on and on with a nervous shift as she wondered how much was too much to divulge. Vanessa just made it easy to talk. Was that really a bad thing? Anna wondered while going to her own room. Vanessa always had advice and a kind word when people talked about themselves. She was so interested in others. She'd make a good therapist.
Anna closed the door quietly and changed into her pajamas. Her room was large and looming, every nook filled with posters, toys, and games. She kicked a stray camisole out of the way, the hanger getting caught on her foot before being flung next to the TV. She tripped over a tiny knight and swore. It went back with its horse on the dresser.
Anna crawled into bed and sat crisscross under the covers, reaching for her remote to surf the TV. A few seconds later she turned it off. To ignore the silence she placed her stuffed snowman in her lap.
She still felt nothing. She cuddled the snowman and went to sleep.
On Sunday they met up in Anna's garage.
"I don't see the point in getting into all these inventor getups," said Merida, gesturing to their work shirts and pants. "We've never gotten more than ten minutes on a robot before finding some way to argue about it."
"It's official," said Anna. "And preparatory." She snapped a pair of goggles over her face. "Gets our creative juices flowing."
"You look like a geek," said Merida.
Rapunzel was sitting on the wooden bench where the family used their power tools. The strap on her goggles hung around her neck, jiggling slightly as she drew in her sketchbook. "Okay," she said, jumping down. "I think I've made a breakthrough. We can make a robot"—she showed them the book—"that programs up to three simple commands and executes them in proper order."
"I agree," said Kristoff immediately. "You guys should make that. Can't go wrong with it."
"Wait," said Anna. "What should the commands be?"
Everyone groaned. "Okay, okay, forget I said it!" said Anna. "Jeez. Just trying to get a head start on things."
"No, you're right," said Rapunzel. "We should probably think of five, for different combinations."
"You sure that's not too advanced?" asked Kristoff.
"Sure. We just have to make them really direct. Like, spin in a circle!" They looked to the floor. A pile of metal lay throughout the garage.
Anna picked up a screwdriver. "A robot that followed commands does sound fun," she mused. "Imagine if we made them work really smoothly. Why, this bot could be systematic."
"Hydromatic," said Rapunzel.
"Ultramatic."
"Something tells me you won't pick up any keepers by building a robot in the garage," interrupted Merida. "Spinning in a circle is good. How about turn around?"
"Go forward and backward," suggested Kristoff.
"Accelerate really fast," said Anna.
"Raise on its back wheels," finished Rapunzel.
"Okay, let's get cracking." Anna reached for a book on programming that had been left on the bench.
"I think you might want to build its body first," said Kristoff.
An hour later they were on the floor. "Ugh," said Merida. She was on her back, arms spread out. "I can't believe we ran out of screws."
"No, that's good!" said Anna. "That means we're making progress."
"But in terms of aesthetics, it's not good," said Rapunzel. She scooted around the robot, closing an eye as she analyzed its components. "The screws show up too much against the plastic we're going to use to cover it. And we've used so many in the first place—the judges are gonna take note of that, and design is one of the things they're looking for in the winning robot. And some of the screws aren't put in straight."
"I have an idea," said Merida. "Let's have Rapunzel paint a robot and we can turn it in."
Anna volunteered a run to the hardware store, leaving Kristoff to keep the peace. She strapped on her bike helmet and began the ride down.
The handlebar ribbons sailed until she reached the city. She banked at a corner and saw someone moving up the block. "Oh great," Anna muttered, dismounting her bike and walking it along the road. "Could anyone be slower?"
The person ahead stopped—Oh god, thought Anna—and as they turned, a bolt of lightning struck her solid to the spot.
Oh GOD.
Elsa had looked over plainly, the mildest hint of curiosity playing on her face. Then the trim of her coat swayed as she turned all the way around.
"Oh please, don't be offended," said Anna. The other girl said nothing, her eyebrows rising again as Anna went on. "I was thinking out loud. I'm just impatient. And there's a lot that needs to be done, and the robot, you know, they wanted me to get to the store and…wait, hang on."
"It's all right," said Elsa, and Anna paused.
"Wait. It is?"
"Yes. Normally there isn't anyone else on the road here Sundays." Elsa moved over and motioned for Anna to walk beside her.
"Oh! Well, okay." Anna hurried the bike over, head down as Elsa watched. When they were side by side they kept walking.
"So," said Elsa. "Are you entering the robotics competition too?"
"What? Oh, yeah," said Anna, remembering it was a tournament all across the state. "We haven't really picked out a design, but we're getting there. Ours is going to follow commands. Well, we think so. We keep changing ideas. Are you in the competition?"
"No, but two of my friends are. They're going really over the top." Elsa put a hand on her chest. "One of them has a father who's an inventor, and they're all having a lot of fun with it. Maybe too much fun." She giggled.
She was wearing a blue winter coat, suede fitting snugly over her body. Its brass buttons were attached neatly and in order. Anna noticed she didn't have a scarf.
"Don't you worry about getting sick?" She pointed to Elsa's neck.
"No," said Elsa. "I don't really get many colds."
Anna had thrown on a designer jacket before going out the door. It had gone out of style two years ago, but was good to have around for the days she got down in the dirt. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eye. "I'm just going to the hardware store," she said, tucking the hair behind her ear. "Gotta get stuff for that robot. Unless that inventor father doesn't mind getting rid of a few spare parts." She wiped a hand on her jeans.
"I was headed to the park," said Elsa.
They stopped at the store. Anna settled her bike in the racks, but after searching through her purse realized she'd left its security chain at home. "Oh great. Do you think they'd be mad if I walked in with this?"
"It's okay," said Elsa. "I'll watch it."
"You will?" Elsa nodded. Anna blinked stupidly, then broke out into a grin. "Great! Thanks!" Elsa smiled warmly and put her fingers on the handlebars. Anna walked into the store, thinking of a thousand things to say when she came back out.
"So you just ran into her."
Rapunzel had finished unscrewing the robot when Anna returned with a bag in the bike basket and a look of wonder on her face. They were all now scattered around the garage, listening to the redhead recount her tale.
"Yeah! And I said something about her being slow, and then she turned, and I was gonna freak out but then she invited me to walk with her."
"And then what did you do?" continued Merida.
"We walked together to the store. And she offered to watch my bike, because I forgot the safety." Kristoff lifted it from his place on the workbench. "And when I came out she'd gotten tired so she was sitting on the seat. It was so cute."
"When I did that you yelled at me," said Rapunzel.
"The bike was new! I've had it for several months now, this is different." Merida bumped the bike with her foot. Anna jerked it forward, giving her a look. "And anyway, it turns out her friends are in the competition too. But I didn't really think about it, because I was so focused on Elsa! I thought I'd be completely terrified of her, but she's so human!"
"No!" said Rapunzel.
"Doesn't her friend have that dad who won an award for making a self-cleaning litter box? This is gonna be some real competition." Merida stood up, pulling her goggles over her eyes. They hit skin with a loud thwack. "We have everything we need, yeah? Now's about time to start remodeling that little widget of ours."
"Little widget. I like that," said Rapunzel as Kristoff took the hardware out of the basket.
Elsa went to her room and closed the door. She'd muttered a polite hello to one of her parents' guests; after a small curtsy she'd moved up the stairs. Not too quickly, she didn't want to give off the impression she disapproved. That would be ironic given the situation she was currently in.
Now, inside her personal space, she felt more free. Her foot tapped a couple times before she went to her bed and sat on the duvet. She curled her fingers under the mattress and lifted, shimmying back and grabbing one arm under to search for something. She felt leather and brought it out. In her childhood she'd kept a secret diary—every little girl was entitled to one, right?—and the bright blue notebook appeared much smaller than in memories past.
She lifted the pink elastic band and slid it off the book. Then, with a little bit of hesitation, she opened it. A smile curved on her lips as she winced at the entries. Her handwriting had been so big then! Loopy, and drooping down the page. And she didn't think spending all that time on the drawings was worth it. She leafed through the pages, watching the writing get neater and the pictures grow scarcer. Funny, some of the things she worried about then.
She stopped near the end of the book. The smile faded. Almost unconsciously she traced up to the date on the page. This was when she was eight years old.
She read it, leaning in with more intent. The entry was about a youth group, and the people there were telling her she should kiss the boy at the end of the room…
Elsa closed the diary. She suddenly felt very faint.