Chapter 2 - Lunch Talk

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Elsa POV

He continued, "Hey beautiful, that's your name right?" That smirk still upon his face and his pointer finger and thumb still resting on my chin.

I refrained from rolling my eyes and shook my head from his grasp. I shrug off the original pick-up line and backed away from this stranger or this Jack Frost in a tense, repelled way. I'm not good with people. Especially people who was the reason I got a detention on a Friday afternoon. "It's Elsa." I said in stiff tone

A name for a name.

And hopefully if it gets through his pretty little skull, some personal space for some personal space.

I scurried back to my assigned seat at the back of the class leaving the boy with a beyond furious Mrs. Hearts.

A string of guilt waved passed me stranding the guy in the wrath of our heart-obsessed teacher. He just stood there a bit dazed and then went to his seat, like he was lagging in video or something.

"Students let's continue on where we left off, turn to chapter eight, where the Queen of Hearts orders the guards to cut of the card's heads." Mrs. Hearts explained to the rest of the class with a lingering detest in her voice.

I flipped to the page and let my half-lidded eyes wander around the pages. Despite getting a detention and have my personal bubble violated, class was cut down to a good twenty-five more minutes.

Dammit.

Lunch Time

During this time, I sit at a table in that corner in the cafeteria. You know, if I had to stick to the cliché High School cliques, people would label us the 'Slackers', 'Emos', 'Loners', or even 'Stoners'. The last one is actually false and I don't know how we came into possession of that title. Little does the rest of the High School population know but none of the alleged 'Stoners' actually have tried or have any possession illegal drugs. But that doesn't change the fact that we all have to deal with idiots on a weekly basis trying to buy from us.

No matter how many times I tell them the only drugs I sell is ice-cream, they assume 'ice-cream' is a code word for crack and bother us until our last resort is to give them a bag of oregano to keep them occupied for another month.

The guy sitting on my left is Peter Pan. No, even though he may look like it, he's not fourteen. He's eighteen and just like everyone else at the table, he is a senior. His round caramel eyes were the brightest compared to everyone in the group. The only thing that can compete with those eyes were his smile that was always naturally there on his lightly tanned cheeks. Carrot-tinted locks that reached his ear was hooded by his signature green beanie. At first glance, yes he looks incredibly young for high school, but his birth certificate begged to differ. Our friendship, how it came to be was a mystery. It just gradually grew from time to time until we were two unlikely puzzle pieces that fit surprisingly well together.

Sitting right next to him was Mavis. Typical so-called "Goth" always portrayed in teen movies. She's almost like a false advertisement. While you were expecting to get blood-thirsty vampire, you got preppy, adventure-driven girl. Her appearance doesn't fit her personality. But can you blame her? Living with a single over-protective Father that's running a hotel 24/7. He's quite a control freak when it comes to Mavis and her choices in practically everything. Including clothes, which always seemed to be black. Due to her pale skin, she also carries a genetic skin disorder for staying in the sun too long.

Next person. Well, you can say he's a bit of a fixer upper. But I guess we're both in the same group for the same reasons (being socially impaired). Just take a moment to conjure the perfect image of Prince Charming in your head and think of the exact opposite. And that's how you get Kristoff. He lacked good manners, people skills, and academic skills but he wasn't stupid. He was, you can say, street smart. Any stranger would  think he's a football player because of his shaggy blonde haircut and huge built-size, but no he's the guy that shovels snow off your drive way for some quick pocket money.

Melting Jack Frost's Heart | Jelsa Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora