Geometry

by Nina Windia

Their father set the last bag down on the cream sofa. "I have to go to work now, so I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted," he said. Behind the gleaming teak kitchen counter, Elsa saw her sister's look of panic. "If you'd just... show Elsa her room, help her get settled in, Anna," he said, askance in his voice. Anna responded by with folded arms, thrusting forward her lower jaw.

"Fine."

Stood by the massive windows that covered half of the fish bowl penthouse apartment, Elsa shuffled her notebook under her other arm. She thought that if there were awards given out for the most awkward moment ever, most of today would be a top contender.

"I'll be back this evening then. Have fun girls," said their father, false cheer, as he pulled up the door behind him.

And left them alone.

"Fun, he says," Anna quipped, as she strode to the refrigerator, mary-janes flopping, the backs crushed down under her heels. She reached inside for a bottle of sunny delight, cut-off shorts exposing white thigh. She drank straight from the bottle.

From an awkward meeting at the bus station, to an even more awkward car ride, Elsa could still make head nor tail of her sister. She was obscenely rich. She wore a brand name jacket and shoes that would cost a month's rent for her and her mother, and then she trod on the backs. Her earrings were plastic, tacky strawberry shaped clip-ons and her thigh-high stockings had a hole. Her flame hair was tied in two lazy braids and her lipstick was gloss, cherry. She chewed gum and gazed at Elsa like she despised her.

She'd grown up, hearing so much about her sister. And now she couldn't think of a single word to say to her. Elsa gazed out the window, a panoramic landscape of the urban jungle.

I want to go home, she thought.

The plastic sunny D bottle, slamming down on the counter brought her attention back. Her sister leant against it, drumming her fingers on the enamel work surface.

"Well, this is awkward," she said.

Elsa didn't say a thing. Her sister sighed.

"I know this must be really weird for you. And it really does suck about your mum and all. But this is pretty weird for me too, y'know?" Anna said, chewing rhythmically.

Elsa's jaw tightened. "Oh I bet. It must be awful," Elsa said, words steeped in sarcasm.

Anna stopped chewing. "Oh yeah? My mum's going fucking crazy about this. That's all I've heard, all month. I don't want that woman's daughter in my house! Blah, blah, blah. I'm sick of it. And of course, she and Dad don't think for one second about me. How do you think I feel? All of a sudden, fifteen years in the dark, single child, and oh suddenly, hi honey, you have a sister. If your own fucking parents lie to you, how are you supposed to trust anyone?"

Elsa's attention drifted away. She watched the sky, jet plane chugging across the field of blue, blowing smoke rings.

"Could you show me my room now?" she said.

"Fine."

Elsa followed the backs of Anna's mary-janes, flopping as badly as flip-flops through the apartment. She'd no idea that apartments could be this huge.

"Did you know?" Anna asked, as they walked.

"Did I know what?"

"About me. And Dad."

"He used to come over every few months to give Mum her check," Elsa said. At this Anna paused, half-turning.

"Every few months?" she said, betrayal between her pinched brow. For the first time since she arrived, Elsa felt sorry for her. Her sister asked, "Do you know if they were... if they were still?"

"I don't know," Elsa said, pausing. "But I don't think so."

"Oh." A bit of relief. Anna continued, leading her down the landing stairs.

"I knew about you, too," Elsa admitted. "Dad talked about you a lot."

She saw Anna shake her head. "Man, I feel like I'm in some kind of TV drama..."

Elsa decided not to tell her about the pictures her mother kept. See, Elsa, this is your little sister. Isn't she pretty?

Why doesn't she live here with us, Mama?

When they talked about Anna though, her mother would always start to cry.

Your father wouldn't let me keep her. He would have taken you too, if I'd let him. That's why the checks to keep getting smaller. To punish me. He's a cruel man, Elsa...

Whereupon her mother would fret, and worry, and weep, until Elsa promised, promised promised she would never leave her. And her mother would embrace her hard, squeezing her so close it hurt.

Promise me Elsa. Don't leave mummy alone. You're all I have left.

But, in the end, her mother was the one who left her. Standing by her grave stone, alone, listening to the minister's groaning voice, she'd thought she would never forgive her.

Elsa caught sight of her pale, skinny reflection in the glass window, lank blond ponytail with bangs falling over her face. I hate this house, she thought.

"This is your room."

Anna opened a door and took her inside. Elsa wandered in, gazing around. Another fish bowl room. Huge and open-plan. The Arendelle family was really into the minimalist look.

She couldn't help but think though: It feels lonely.

"I'm supposed to take you to the school office tomorrow to get your paperwork done, too," Anna said. Elsa looked back at her. She was leaning against the door frame fiddling with her plastic heart-shaped locket.

A lump in her throat. "Right."

"Hans always comes to pick me up, so you can hitch a ride with us. He's got an awesome jaguar. It's boss," Anna said.

"Hands?"

"Oh." For the first time, she saw Anna smile. What a change it made. Her eyes lit up like a child's. Her smile was soft honeycomb. "Ha-ns. It's like, Danish or something. He's my boyfriend. We only started going out like a week ago, but he's so dreamy. You've got to meet him."

But Elsa felt distracted. She said, "Your school... what is it like?"

Anna shrugged. "Private academy. Best the money can buy. But it's the same old shit, really." And she asked, "Say, where'd you go to before?"

"I..." she sat down on the four-poster bed. It was very comfortable. "I didn't go to school before, actually."

"Wait, what? You mean, like never?"

"Never," said Elsa.

"So what, you were home-schooled?" Anna was looking at her in curiosity now.

"Well, not exactly. My mum taught me some things. And I read pretty much every book at the library."

"But wouldn't that get her into trouble?"

"It did. She nearly went to prison a couple of times. But she didn't care." Just stay by mummy's side please Elsa. I couldn't bear it if you abandoned me too.

"Shit." Anna approached, and sat down heavily on the bed next to her. "I better show you around too, then. Does that mean you can't like... even do maths or anything?"

The small quirk of a smile. Elsa handed Anna her sketchbook. She opened it, and Elsa watched her sister's dawning confusion as she turned page after page of triangles, angles, construction, Elsa's working out in neat little scrawls. "Wait... this is geometry, isn't it? We studied this last term." She flipped another page, to a castle drawn out of immaculately labelled angles. "Do you... enjoy doing this?"

"I do. It's fun."

There was a logic in maths that was lacking in her life. Everything added up. Everything made sense. When she immersed herself in numbers Elsa found a sense of peace she remembered only from when she was very small.

What Anna thought of this was in the baffled shake of her head. She snapped the book shut and tossed it back to Elsa. "You're nuts."

Elsa looked at her long white fingers in silence. The boys from down her road, whenever she ventured out of the flat would yell that at her: "Hey weirdo! Your mum's nuts! They should lock her away in the loony bin."

A sound like a slap. She looked up at Anna from under her eyelashes, to see her sister face palming. "Omigod, I didn't mean it like that. This is so bad." Elsa looked at her quizzically. Anna took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't worry. I know you didn't mean anything by it," said Elsa distantly.

"Not just about that. Everything. Look, I'm pissed at my dad and I'm taking it out on you. Ever since he told me about you I've been trying to come up with reasons to be mad at you." Like a train pulling out of the station, she began to pick up speed. "But you've done nothing wrong. In reality I'm just mad because he always acts like he's so busy all the time and ignores me and Mum and I used to make excuses for him and- and I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"A little," admitted Elsa.

"Damn, I'm awful..."

Anna's eyes moved back to Elsa's notebook in her lap. "Say, do you think you could teach me sometime?"

"What, geometry?" said Elsa.

"Yeah. Pretty sure it's going to be on the next test, but I didn't understand it at all." A wonky smile. "To be honest, I'm pretty clueless at maths."

"Alright." Elsa opened the book. Anna shuftied up close to her, ankles touching, as Elsa in her quiet calm voice began to explain.