Boy Meets Girl

Chapter 7: Pink Pickles

"..I have been quite creative since I was young.", Rapunzel started off while Jack listened attentively. "I just dreamt of.. uhm.. meeting 'the one'. I was a child so I got excited. Then I just threw pink paint in the jar of pickles hence the pink pickles.", she finished.

Jack started clapping as soon as she was done telling the story. "So, did you ever meet.. 'the one'?", he asked as he closed the refrigerator's door and looked at her.

"And why is this being asked?", Rapunzel smiled.

"Nothing. Just curious. Now, tell me.", Jack insisted as he folded his hands together and pouted his lips.

She looked at him and sighed. "All right.. I didn't exactly meet the one. Well, I thought I had. But he wasn't, really.", she tried to laugh it off as she looked down at her hands.

"Well, don't get too emotional, darling. Past is past, innit?", Jack said in a British accent. "Now, let's be off to your quarters, maybe even have some crumpets and tea.", he widely smiled.

Rapunzel rolled her eyes and sighed as she shuffled around the kitchen, filling the kettle with water, turned the stove on and looked for some crumpets or biscuits in the cabinets.

"I'll be waiting in your sleeping chambers, love.", Jack bowed and smiled at her before walking upstairs.

"He certainly is a goofball up close.", Rapunzel muttered as she waited for the water to heat up.

---

"Hm.", Jack hummed as he walked around Rapunzel's room. He looked at the shelf and admired the different trophies and awards that were placed on there.

He raised both of his eyebrows as he just kept on switching his eyes from one trophy to another. "A journalist.", he muttered.

"Shit, what's this?!", he silently gasped as he saw pictures on the wall of Rapunzel's study table. He sat on the chair and checked the different pictures out.

But then one picture caught his attention. He widened his eyes as he looked at the Rapunzel with neck length, blonde hair, glasses and a huge smile on her face in the picture.

And with her in the picture was a guy Jack knew. Black, ravishing hair, deep, brown eyes, light tanned skin, pink cheeks and a sincere smile spread across his face.

"No mother effing way, Gene.", he silently gasped.

---

"Keys. Where are you, really?", Elsa muttered as she dug her hand into her handbag as she stood by her car.

Then she screamed when she felt someone touch her on her shoulder. She stopped and turned to see Hans. "Jesus! You scared me, Westergård! Wait, Westergård?", she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry if I scared you but uh.. I wanted to talk.", Hans calmly said as he slightly smiled.

Elsa raised an eyebrow more. "If this is about me and Jack, then I refuse to talk with you.", she said as she went back to finding her keys to her car.

"Wait, it's.. not about that.", Hans gulped.

"Then what is it about? Come on, I'm in a hurry.", Elsa grumbled as she kept searching for the keys.

"It's about the prom."

This made Elsa stop and look at him. "Say wha--what about.. prom?", she widened her eyes slightly.

"Uhm.. I was wondering if, I mean if it's okay.. would you consider going to prom.. with me?", he asked, contorting his face. He was afraid she might say no.

Elsa, on the other hand, was taken back at this. "I.. I know you'll probably say no, so I'm just gonna go..", Hans said as he started walking, but Elsa stopped him.

"Well, can I at least.. think about your question, Hans?", she said with a reassuring smile printed on her face.

"Yeah, of course. That'd be perfection.", Hans replied, mentally slapping himself because of his choice of words.

Elsa stifled a laugh and brought out her keys, which were in her pocket. She unlocked her car and before she went in and drove away, she said.. "It'd be perfection, right?"

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