"Fifteen minutes!" the loudhailer's squawk barely rises over Elsa's breathing. The crosswind nearly blows Elsa into the girl racing beside her. Holding their position up and down the slopes. So close she can hear her grunting breaths.
"Eat shit," Elsa seethes through gritted teeth.
Her eyes fog. Elsa makes out the half-mile marker. A kick starts to form in the lead pack. But the girl's cadence grinds out Elsa's stride advantage. Cheers resound from the sidelines. Parents and coaches and officials from across the state. All Elsa hears is her thumping heartbeat. All she sees is the girl's fluttering brown ponytail pulling away from her. Barely inches apart as they crash through the finish line.
They buckle over. The girl spits into the dirt. Cameras flash around them.
"You almost dropped me," she croaks on her knees.
The sunlight burns into Elsa's eyeballs as acid courses through her limbs, "Fuck - I lost."
"We both fucking lost," the girl groans. Right as the commentators announce their placements, "Third and fourth place: Burke and West Ashley high school - with a hell of kick from both girls."
Miraculously, the brunette's first on her feet. Holding out a hand towards Elsa still retching out her lungs. Oblivious to the other runners pulling in with broken, reddened faces. The strength returns to her limbs as soon as she grabs hold of that Burke girl's hand.
"Hope this result gets you the college you want," she sputters - right before turning around to congratulate the other girls.
Elsa ponders the girl's statement. Those timings on a scoreboard, just seconds away from winning the cross-country state championships outright. Maui's disappointed face and hands flopping in defeat. How close she's come to high school's finish line - and yet still so impossibly far away. The distance lengthens with each second as vertigo takes over her. She staggers towards the spectators with no aim in sight except to find the nearest bin so she can throw up with some decorum. But that nauseous cloud lifts when she sees Principal Anderson.
"Hell of a run!" Anderson congratulates her, slapping her back so hard the puke nearly surges out, "I was cheering for you but you appeared so lost in it."
The words wade through the pounding in her head, before she breathes a wispy, messy thread of words, "I'm, I'm sorry I lost out, ma'am."
"C'mon, you lost? Fourth place is nothing to scoff at," Anderson points at the scoreboard, "it's not like we have a chance at nationals anyway."
Principal Anderson holds Elsa up by the elbow, helping her walk off the acrid blood still pumping through her veins. Those hills definitely did not pay the bills. It takes her a moment before she's able to breathe slowly enough to chug a bottle of water.
"Truth be told, your results over the years have put our school on the athletics map, at least in this state," Anderson looks her in the blurry eyes, "this may be your last high school race, but I need you to know that you've accomplished a legacy that will shine after you've gone."
The words shoot straight through Elsa's head. That voice catches up with her again. It's not enough. It's never enough. Anderson's eyes widen in the sunlight. As though she's reading through her self-doubt.
"As a measure of our appreciation, I invited someone special here today to see you," Anderson grins, pointing at her car.
Elsa's eyes light up, "Anna?"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but no," Anderson chuckles, "But you're more than welcome to invite Anna to the prom. I try to foster an inclusive culture wherever I can."
The nagging cloud of self-doubt makes its reappearance as Iduna emerges from behind her car. Still talking on the phone. Before she catches sight of her daughter and hangs up.
Anderson saunters away, "I'll give you two a moment."
"Mom?" Elsa asks, watching her mother approach, still dressed in her lawyer clothes, "W-what're you doing here?"
"I had some time between meetings," Iduna meets her eye-level, "And it occurred to me that I'd never actually been to one of your meets."
No. No you fucking didn't. I'd given up looking for you since Sophomore year.
"So you came all the way here," Elsa feels faint, and she doesn't know if it's the sun, "to see me run one last time."
"No, I saw something else," Iduna sighs, "I saw someone who gave it everything and never gave up."
"I lost," Elsa grimaces.
"My point stands," Iduna uses her deadpan lawyer voice again, and that's all it takes to put a chip in the wall of Elsa's pride. She relents, allowing Iduna's arm around her shoulder. And perhaps she really does feel like fainting. Into the crisp stiffness of her starched blazer. Inhaling that perfume that smells like a fancy hotel room. Listening to those four words seal away all four years of high school like she's finally achieved what she's been fighting so hard for.
I'm proud of you.
"And that will be the last you'll ever hear me rant about trigonometric functions for the rest of your godforsaken lives," Mr Stevenson slams a textbook on the table, "in the unlikely case any of you fuckwads ever make it to college or achieve anything spectacular. I request that you do not mention my name because I wouldn't want to be associated with a bunch of morons-"
The bell's ringing and a ruckus of cheering cuts him off. Grating chairs and tables compete with Stevenson's hollering voice screaming at them to get the fuck out. An immense burden lifts from Anna's shoulders as she's swept into the corridor. Hurling what's left of her maths notes into the bin. Sharpie ready on her fingers with a grin. That crumpled scrap of paper on her locker wall won't be there for much longer.
Cross this line to graduate!
She stencils in one last B+ for maths. Before her grin fades at the single, solitary empty box separating herself from getting out of this hellhole. Chemistry. The locker squeaks above her sigh as she slams it shut. And she flinches at Mal standing there right beside her. Anna's fists immediately clench.
"I'm not gonna jump you on the last day of school, gawd," Mal scoffs, before her expression softens, "I-I just wanted to tell you that I passed maths."
Anna raises an eyebrow.
"Why - I don't know why you're telling me this - what do you want from me, congratulations?"
Mal turns away at the chorus of cheers breaking out down the hallway. Her eyes dart back to Anna's.
"I'm moving back to Arizona with my mom, she wasn't sure if I was going to graduate so we stayed," Mal looks down at Anna's sneakers, "I-I couldn't have done this without you."
Anna chortles, "I don't think a few tutoring sessions made any difference-"
"That was all it took," Mal interrupts, before extending a hand towards her, "And for that, thank you."
An assortment of skullhead rings and snake bracelets dangles off Mal's hand when she shakes it. Cold metal jewelry chafing into her skin festers those long-healed bruises on her cheek. And yet, it feels like she's set free from a debt she'd given up trying to repay.
"Good luck with chem, alright?" Mal taps her chest, "I hope I helped a bit, at least."
Anna watches the goth girl duck into a bathroom. Swallowing back her trepidation at filling in one last box. She shoves the scrap of paper into her pocket and makes it to chem lab early. Principal Jackson's hulking figure with folded arms standing before a row of half-cracked pyrex beakers freezes her in place.
"Anna Miller," he reads her name off a list, "last one for chem, please - sit."
There're only five students, each one looking as clueless as herself. For once, Jackson's face displays an emotional range outside of placid and livid rage. The sombre tone in his voice makes her swallow with fear.
"Bad news," he tosses the clipboard on a lab bench, "Ms Cooper is in hospital after overdosing on Fentanyl."
Silence falls upon the students. Not even the usual broken A/C rattling fills the space. Anna trembles when she realises what the news means.
"Very unfortunate turn of events for herself, and for those of you waiting for chemistry results," Jackson apologises, "we've sent your tests to another district to get graded. Which means you won't be getting them back for another week."
A voice pipes up from another student, "You gotta be kidding man, this is the last grade I need to graduate!"
"Yea!"
"What the hell man, we can't graduate because she's hooked on smack?"
Jackson pounds the table, "Shut up! Shut the hell up, all you motherfuckers! That woman's in a fucking coma right now!"
A throbbing drumbeat pounds between Anna's ears. Once again she feels like that straggler crawling towards a mirage in the desert. Slowly fading away. Her lips parch with a dry feeling. Not thirst for water. But a heart-rending desire to escape.
"Can't you give us a pass this time? Anna rasps, lungs tightening with each breath, "it's just one grade. The last one we need and we'll be out of here."
Jackson towers over Anna, backing her into a lab bench.
"No," the huff of his voice sends her fringe fluttering, "And you know why we can't. We need your accredited grades to get the necessary funding for our school."
A voice behind her cuts him off, "Bullshit!"
"Hey!" Jackson jabs a finger, "If you guys didn't have such shit grades on the standardised tests we wouldn't be in this situation. I would've signed your tests and be done with the whole affair. Until then - have fun at fucking prom and enjoy what's left of your high school days."
The sight of Jackson storming from the lab leaves a gaping void in her chest that intensifies as she stumbles out of school. Persisting when she smokes with Belle on the metal steps.
"I've to make up for my grades with summer school," Belle complains, blowing a waft of smoke before her weary eyes, "was looking forward to seeing my nan in Florida before she passes."
Once again, she's reminded of the sickening consequences of life catching up to her. Anna finds herself wondering if she'd ever have to choose between Elsa and the tattered remnants of her impoverished life. The thought of watching Elsa get into a car after a last hug goodbye. Driving over the hills to college or wherever the hell she's not good enough to follow. It makes Anna's gut churn from the inside out. She shakes her head and changes the subject.
"Has anyone asked you out for prom?" Anna asks.
For the first time today, Belle smiles at her friend. Before she pinches her cheek.
"I thought you'd never ask," Belle sneers, "and of course - I'd love to go with you."
"Oh, get over yourself!" Anna swats away Belle's hand, "I-I mean, you don't mind - right? I just don't want people to get the wrong idea about you."
"Of course not," Belle wraps an arm around Anna's shoulder, "Even if they did. I wouldn't mind being your lesbian partner for a night. For all the great fun we've had these years."
Anna chuckles, before Belle squeezes in one last playful jab.
"Or are you and Elsa officially a thing already - and there's no more room in your heart for me?"
"Oh you know you'll always be special to me," Anna presses a kiss to her head, "Thank you-"
Clanging boots on the metal steps interrupt her. She turns to see Mal, and shifts aside to let the girl pass. Mal looks back at them.
"Heard about the chem teacher," Mal's voice softens, "I'm so sorry about that. All the best for your grades, alright?"
Anna's eyes dip down for a second, "Sure thing Mal. Have fun in Arizona."
And with that - the one singular source of torment wrapped in pasty white foundation and leather jeans leaves on a one way trip out of Clemson High forever.
Belle turns to Anna; lips half-curled in a massive smirk.
"What?"
"What the hell was that?" Belle sniggers, ruffling Anna's hair, "d-did you-"
"Yes," Anna whispers, stubbing out what's left of her cigarette. Before she exhales a last lace of smoke into the spring air. Wondering exactly how much senior year has changed her.
A cafe shift and a double-set of love ballads later, Anna's throat and fingers are aching from performing all night. As usual, the bartender gives a glass of ice to cool the throbbing in her thumb. And she ponders asking him for something a little stronger to take the edge off her mind. The uncertainty. That aching, unmet longing to be with Elsa one last time. The trail of her gaze doesn't go unnoticed.
"Stop eyeing my booze," the bartender observes, before his voice drops, "I know you're underage, missy."
Anna scoffs, "Took ya that long to figure out, huh?"
"You got any plans after school? Or are we gonna see you here all summer long?"
The thought of not having an answer for him or for any of the other dozen questions plaguing her mind, fills her with a cloudy haze of uncertainty. Beneath the dim lounge lights, this dark cloud grows a dozen foggy arms. Pulling her in every direction and threatening to unravel her. Sensing her unease, the bartender sets out a glass of lemon soda for Anna. Not before glazing it with a shot of vodka.
"This one's on the house," he offers, "For all the great songs you've sang here."
"I hope my singing wasn't that bad," she laughs, tipping the glass at him and downing it whole.
Vodka Lemonade.
The reminiscence of that sour, bitter taste swirls into her insides. Elsa's icy-cold stare bearing down on her before melting into pools of affection. Heady flirting. That almost physical touch nestling so tantalizingly close. And every heartfelt moment they had after. The memory is enough for reach for her phone. A grin breaks out at a new message:
Elsa: Hey - are you home yet?
Elsa: Sometimes I get worried about you working so late all the time, I hope you're safe.
Anna sticks out her tongue as she texts back.
Anna: Yes mom - I'm heading home
Anna: And no I don't see you as my mom - I'm just messing
She barely manages to keep her bike in a straight line as that little bit of vodka swirls around her head. But a rumble in the distance steels her instincts. Dark clouds gather over the suburbs like the ones rife in her chest the entire day. Those first dots of rain touch her face, and she pedals harder. The sky flashes. A drizzle picks up, and Anna grits her teeth. Mind immediately flying to that scrap of paper with her grades in her not-waterproof satchel. And as the drizzle intensifies to a full-on deluge, Anna surges into a blind panic that the rain's going to wash away every grade she's fought so hard to keep for the last few years of her life.
"C'mon!" Anna seethes, raindrops pelting her like little knifewounds. Her hair sticks to her face. Wind slices into her damp cheeks. Just one more crest. Just two more corners.
Beneath the peal of thunder. Anna's bike squeaks to a dead stop when she sees Elsa outside her house.
Standing in the pouring rain next to her Lexus.
Guitar perched on her hips. Wet hair plastered on her face.
Together with a huge smile.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Anna squeals, bike clattering as she tips it over, "It's pouring!"
A speaker perched on her car's bonnet randomly starts playing a song. And Elsa begins to strum - shaky at first. Before she picks up the rhythm
When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same?
"Oh my god, Elsa," Anna's hands fly to her mouth when she realises what Elsa's doing. They're absolutely soaked to the bone now, but Elsa continues her song, illuminated by the gentle ray of moonlight peeking through the clouds.
Nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
"Ok, ok! Stop!" Anna calls out, dropping her bag to the flooded street, "Whatever it is you came here to ask me for - I'll do it!"
The guitar twangs as Elsa drops it, rainwater sputtering from her lips, "You'll do it? You'll go to the prom with me?"
"What?" Anna shrieks, "You drove here to play a song in the freaking rain just to ask me out to the prom?"
"Yes!" Elsa yells through the haze of pattering rain.
"Oh my god!" Anna squeals, hurling herself into the soppy, wet mess of Elsa's outstretched arms, "You could've just texted me-"
And when those arms wrap around her soaking wet clothes, the last trace of uncertainty squeezes out her lungs in one long sputtery gasp.
"Anna, you are worth so much more than just a text," Elsa breathes into her ear, "And I really, really wanted to make this special for you. Until it started raining."
"No, no, fuck the rain," Anna hugs her tight, "I-I couldn't have asked for anything more special today, all I really wanted was to see you and that would've been good enough."
Another song starts playing, she recognises the tune immediately.
"Two songs?" Anna exclaims.
"I learned three songs," Elsa explains, lacing her wet fingers through Anna's, "In case you weren't convinced after the first two."
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Anna's heart swells like the rainclouds above them. Another hand slips around Elsa's hip. Without even thinking - they dance hand-in-hand to the riff of rock music playing from Elsa's speakers. Even as it threatens to slide off her bonnet. The guitar solo hits them like lightning, and Elsa twirls Anna around in a spin.
"See?" Elsa giggles, pulling Anna's soaking wet body close to herself, "You're all ready for prom."
Anna buries her head into Elsa's neck, "I'm terribly sorry though - I can't ask you out for mine. They stopped letting outside people come after some kid shot up the-"
"It's ok-"
"So am I going to find out what's the last song you prepared?" Anna whispers, "Or have you had enough of a soaking wet Anna Miller?"
"Anna," Elsa breathes into her matted red hair, "You know I'll never have enough of you. Wet or dry. Sunny or rainy. All I really want-"
"-is to spend a life with you."
She can feel that woman's heartbeat thumping through her wet clothes. And her breath catches when she imagines that heart pounding for her. It curls her fingers into Elsa's wet clothes. Waiting for the last of Elsa's setlist to play.
I wanna hold you and say
We can't throw this all away
Tell me you won't go, you won't go
You have to hear me say
I can't stop lovin' you
And no matter what I say or do
But you know my heart is true,
oh-oh I can't stop loving you
Behind the noise of pounding rain, Anna vaguely hears Gerda's voice screaming at them to get the fuck out of the downpour. But she swore she'd make each moment count with this girl. No matter what the future held for them both. No matter what she'd fill into that last empty box sitting in her now-ruined scrap of results. No matter how soaking wet she is now. Because Anna realises that life is more than just waiting for the storm to pass.
"I'm just so happy I met you," Anna whispers, "even if I don't graduate or see you again."
It's about learning to dance in the rain