Last night was full of tosses and turns. With little sleep in her system, Elsa clutches a cup of coffee at the bar and rubs her eyes. Olaf is still asleep, which doesn't surprise Elsa. It's far too early for him for a weekend and even too early for him for a weekday. The clock above the kitchen window reads 5:30, the hands ticking the seconds away. The morning outside is dreary and grey, with rain most likely in the forecast for the weekend.

She keeps glancing down at her phone, as though Anna is going to text her plans to hang out later on this early in the morning.

Then Elsa shakes her head. She's your son's teacher. You were just doing that to be friendly and get the bad blood out of the way. Now that it's out of the way, you don't have to worry about this anymore. Why'd you even suggest—?

"Mama?"

Elsa jumps and turns her head toward the hall. Olaf is standing by the doorway, hugging his polar bear to his chest. He's dressed in his favorite snowman pajamas, his hair wild and messy—but when is it ever not, Elsa thinks.

"Olaf? What are you doing awake?"

"I went into your room to snuggle," he answers. "But you were gone."

"I'm right here," she smiles softly. "You can go back to bed, buddy."

He shakes his head. "I don't want to."

"Alright," she chuckles and pats the seat next to her. "Are you hungry? I can make waffles."

"Are you okay, Mama?" he asks instead, unmoving from his spot.

Elsa pauses. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "You've just been weird."

"I have not been weird," Elsa says, voice laced with humor. "You're weird." She tries to turn it into a game. The last thing she needs is to appear weak and confused in front of her son.

"I'm not weird. You've just been acting funny, and I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, as though he's the wisest kid on the planet.

Elsa stares at him. "Olaf, honey, I'm just fine."

He looks unconvinced, still standing firm in the doorway.

"What makes you think I'm not?" she asks, setting down her coffee and turning her body so she can face him fully. "Please, tell me."

"You're just. . . I dunno. You're weird."

She can't help but smile. Children can be so observant but lack the ability to explain themselves well.

"Olaf, I pinky promise that I'm fine, okay? Mama's just been doing a lot of thinking and work has been hard. I'm a little stressed out."

He nods slightly. "Okay. . . Can I have waffles now?"

She smiles wider and pats the seat again, which he gladly skips over to take. Elsa stands and gets the waffle iron out.

"Remember, you're sleeping over at Winifred's tonight, so I'm dropping you off at one o'clock."

"Uh-huh." He sets his polar bear onto the stool beside him. "Mama, did you like the pictures I drew?"

The reason I didn't get sleep last night? "Yes, I did." Elsa busies herself with making breakfast. "Did you have a good time with Wendy last night?"

"Yeah, we played Super Smash Brothers, and I beat her twice but she beat me three times. She's good at it, even though she said she wasn't." He continues to talk about what he did with his babysitter, babbling through the tiniest details that cross his mind.

Elsa tunes him out for a minute and tries to backtrack her behavior over the past two months. She's been incredibly careful not to display any sort of uncharacteristic qualities that Olaf might catch. But he's so observant of his mother, and sometimes Elsa catches herself doing or saying things in front of him that he's not old enough to understand.

She tries to communicate with him at a mature level so he can learn to have adult conversations, but she reminds herself constantly that he's only seven.

Just then, her phone's text tone brings her out of her thoughts, and she swipes it off the counter before Olaf's sneaky little eyes can catch the name. He gives her a guilty grin, and she raises a brow at him before checking who it is.

And thank goodness she got to it in time because it's Anna who texted her.

A brief moment of excitement—and confusion when she realizes Anna is up this early, too—melts away and is replaced by disappointment when Anna's text reads, "Can't see you today. Papers to grade and teacher stuff. Sorry. Just thought I'd let you know. Maybe another time."

Elsa sighs and texts back that it's fine before pocketing her phone and returning to making breakfast.

"Who was it?" Olaf asks, always curious.

"A co-worker."

"Which one?"

"It was Jane."

"Ohhhh."

Elsa continues with breakfast as Olaf sits and talks more about his night. Once again, they're interrupted by Elsa's phone; only this time, it's Kristoff calling. She tells Olaf to go play in his room until breakfast is ready, and he goes without protest, telling to his polar bear that he's going to build a spaceship with his Legos.

"Hey," Elsa says as she picks up. "Why is everyone up so early this morning?"

"Everyone?" he responds.

"Yeah. Olaf woke up fifteen minutes ago, I just got a text from Anna, and now you're calling me. What the hell is going on?"

He laughs. "I get up this early to work out downstairs before Sven wakes up. I'm walking on the treadmill as we speak. I was just going to leave a message. I had no idea you'd be up. You sound pretty tired."

"I hardly slept. . . It was just a rough night, I guess."

"Awh, come on. Tell me what's wrong, Els."

Elsa sighs and leans her back against the kitchen counter. "Kris, do you ever get lonely? Without. . . you know. . ."

"All the time. I still sleep on my side of the bed," he says, his voice significantly quieter. "Even after three years it still hurts." He pauses and then says, "Why? Are you getting lonely, Elsa?" His voice isn't teasing. It's full of love and concern for his best friend.

"Surprisingly, yes. I think experiencing intimacy with Anna triggered something. For a moment, I had someone. An inappropriate someone, but still. She showed interest in me; she was sweet and understanding and. . . I miss that."

"I get that. I miss the intimacy all the time. It's hard to get back out there after being single for so long. Especially you. Seven years, Elsa. That's pretty long considering your college track record."

"Har har."

"But seriously, Elsa. I completely know what you're talking about. Bed feels too big, you feel alone. You feel like you can't handle things by yourself. I still screw up making dinner sometimes. I have to take a lot of time off work just to accommodate his schedule. Having someone on your team is Heaven on Earth. You have a partner, someone your age to love and cherish. And damn, sex with someone you love is the best thing. Getting off is great and whatever, but I miss the act itself."

"Yeah, that's the other thing."

"Hey! You've still got your profile on the dating website," he reminds her. "You can still meet someone and make a connection. There's plenty of time, Elsa."

"I don't want them. I want her."

There's a long silence and Elsa replays what she just said.

"I. . . I mean. . . uh. . ."

He cracks up laughing, and there's a loud boom on his line. "Fuck! You made me fall off my treadmill!" he roars, still laughing up a storm.

Elsa's face is burning. "Kristoff, shut up!"

"Did you hear yourself!?"

"Yes," she growls through gritted teeth.

"Holy cow, you've got a thing for Anna! Like, an actual thing!"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Oh my god, this is amazing. I can't even begin to—"

Click.

Elsa slams her phone onto the counter and fumes as she fumbles with the plates as she removes them from the cupboard. She calls Olaf in, and he comes running in, plopping himself on the stool.

She serves him his breakfast, trying to steady her shaking hands.

I want her, Elsa thinks, thankful that Olaf missed her trembling. I just told Kristoff that I wanted Anna of all people. Fucking Kristoff making me face this stupid. . . Truth? Is it the truth? Her eyes land on her son as he eats, traveling over his head to the open living room. He's the only other person in this house made for a complete family, and Elsa keeps straining her ears for footsteps of a nonexistent partner. It is the truth. I keep looking forward to seeing her, I keep thinking about her. Elsa closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. Face it, Elsa. You want Anna.

Rain pours down from the sky on a cold Wednesday afternoon, and Anna leans against her open classroom doorway and watches the heavens. Her students are up to their usual rainy day lunchtime activities, their time outdoors cut short due to the rain. She keeps glancing over her shoulder to make sure her students aren't misbehaving. So far, they've all behaved, and some are even sitting on the rug singing "My Favorite Things" in case any thunder booms overhead. Anna thinks of the disappointment she felt when she had sent Elsa the text about being unable to see each other. There is a part of her that wanted to drop everything and spend an afternoon with Elsa, but the professional side of Anna keeps telling her to stop seeing Elsa altogether.

She turns away from the rainy weather and back to the warm interior of her classroom. She sits in her chair and observes her students with mild interest, watching them play and char with no adult cares in the world.

As she's about to wake her computer and work on a few things, she's tapped on the arm by Olaf, who is holding something behind his back.

"Yes, Olaf?" she asks, giving him a smile.

"I made you something," he says kindly, his big buck-toothed grin spread across his pale cheeks.

"Did you?" Anna is flattered.

He nods and presents the picture he drew of Anna last Friday evening. Although he made sure to scrawl "To: Miss Anna" and "From: Olaf" in the open space.

"You're my favoritest teacher so I drew you," he says, almost shyly.

"Oh, Olaf, that's very sweet of you," Anna says. "I love this. I think I'll hang it up on my fridge."

He beams. "Really!?"

"Yes! I need some more art on my fridge. Thank you so much."

"Welcome!" he chirps before rushing back to his desk.

Anna gazes fondly at the picture, and realizes that this is the first time in her entire teaching career that she has received art from a student, regardless of it being of herself. She doesn't think it odd that Olaf drew her though. He's always seemed rather fond of drawing his friends and family more so than animals, cars, or cartoon characters. She takes it as a compliment that he even took the time and used the love in his little heart to draw a picture of her.

She sets it aside and feels her heart swell. She knows she's not supposed to pick favorites, but Olaf is quickly becoming hers.

There's just the fact that she slept with his mother.

Reality crashes onto her, and she almost groans out loud in exasperation. Why does this have to bother her? Why does Elsa have to keep invading her thoughts? Elsa loudly defending Anna during Back-to-School night gave Anna the urge to run over and kiss her in thanks; but of course she couldn't do such a thing.

I shouldn't do such a thing, Anna tells herself firmly, looking back at her computer. I shouldn't even be thinking about that.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to focus her mind on other things. Work, her weekend plans with Merida, the promise she made to Giselle to call her tonight, the lesson plans for this week. . . but everything somehow leads back to Elsa.

Her eyes snap open, and she frowns, her mouth turned up into a tiny pout.

Maybe you should throw caution to the wind and date her, she jokes to herself. Against her will, her mind is suddenly overflowing with images of Elsa kissing her, holding her hand, embracing her, taking her out, making sweet lo—Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Or, a little voice whispers, you could give in and just allow yourself to daydream. What's the harm in that?

Anna hates to admit it, but she has allowed her mind to wander more than once when she is alone at home, which has led to rather naughty things between her sheets. The night she and Elsa spent together is a trigger for her naughty thoughts, but her imagination does like to take it further and run wild.

The harm in that, she continues to think, is that she's the mother of your student.

So what? the little voice purrs. What's the worst that could happen?

The administration finds out, and I get fired for having a relationship with a parent.

But is that really against the rules?

Anna purses her lips. If Olaf isn't in her class, then no. Not really. But there's something incredibly wrong and taboo about the current predicament Anna has landed herself in.

Infatuation with a parent. . . having previous sexual relations with said parent. It's against Anna's ethics.

Yet, it's oddly exciting and daring, and there's a larger part of Anna that wants to say, "fuck you" to her morals and jump Elsa the next time she sees her. So what if it's not really socially acceptable. She and Elsa can keep it under wraps until spring, when people usually stop caring about the on-goings of the class as they prepare for summer.

Then again, Anna doesn't even know if Elsa shares the same feelings.

The bell rings and Anna calls for her class to clean up their messes. The kids groan and sluggishly put away the toys and clean their tables of their lunches. She stands up, making her way over to the board to begin their social studies lesson for the afternoon.

She's still sitting in her car in the parking garage, forehead on her steering wheel. Anna hasn't moved since she's driven home, and she wonders if she even has the strength to do what she plans on doing.

A couple of weekends ago, she visited Merida at work at a pub where she bartends and got hit on by a very attractive, very insistent woman that gave Anna her number. The note beneath it read, "Call me anytime if you want to have some fun", and it had a winky-face beside it.

If Anna wants to get Elsa out of her head—and hopefully shake off these growing feelings for a woman who probably isn't the least bit interested in her romantically— then maybe all it'll take is for someone to help her out.

With trembling fingers, Anna unlocks her phone and dials the number of the girl she met.

"This is Clare," a smooth voice responds after a couple of rings.

"Hey, Clare. It's Anna. . . uh. . . You gave me your number at the Snuggly Duckling."

"Oh! Yes, Anna." Anna can practically see the seductive smirk in Clare's tone of voice. "How may I help you this fine evening?"

"You wanna come over for some fun? For, like, an hour or two?"

"Mm, I'd like that very much. May I have your address, Anna? I'll be there shortly."

Anna gives it to her and makes a run for her apartment. She unlocks the door and whirls into her house like a tornado. She shoves her workbag and laptop in her closet and frantically brushes her hair and teeth. If she's going to get laid, she needs to look presentable and not like a frazzled grade school teacher.

Anna puts on some smooth jazz music just as there's a knock at the door. She pauses and gulps, carefully making her way over to open it.

What am I doing? she asks herself as her hand curls around the doorknob. This isn't right. . . but this might be the only way. Anna takes in a deep breath and gently opens the door for her evening company.

"Hello, Anna," Clare whispers into the cold night.

Anna waves shyly. Clare is, for all intents and purposes, a very attractive young lady. She's about Anna's age, though slightly taller. Her eyes are hazel, and her hair is a dark brown that flows down her back elegantly. She holds herself with such powerful confidence that she reminds Anna of Elsa in some ways.

Don't think about Elsa.

Anna steps aside for Clare to saunter in. She takes in the tiny apartment as Anna shuts the door behind her, trying not to break into a sweat.

"You have a lovely place," Clare compliments genuinely.

"Thanks."

Clare sheds her coat. "So, is this the hook-up with my pretty ginger cat that I've been waiting for?" she asks.

"I won't lie to you. I'm trying to get someone else out of my head," Anna admits from where she is rooted by the door, her nerves keeping her from welcoming Clare over to the bed a couple of feet away.

"Oh, poor baby," Clare sighs, turning and striding over to stand in front of Anna. "Don't worry. I can help you with that." She kisses the shell of Anna's ear, and Anna shudders pleasantly, closing her eyes. "Why don't we get started, then?"

After a good half hour of making out against the door, they've moved to the bed, but Anna is still struggling to focus on getting aroused, something nagging in the back of her mind.

Clare, understanding Anna's intentions, eases her into a state of relaxation while Clare pins her to the bed. Anna kisses her back, though half-heartedly. Nothing this girl is doing makes Anna yearn for a sexual connection.

It's not until Anna is half naked that the nagging becomes clear: I feel like I'm cheating. And she also realizes that the only reason she's allowed herself to go this far is that every time she closes her eyes, she replaces Clare with Elsa. Every kiss Clare gives her, Anna pictures Elsa's soft lips against her skin instead. Elsa's cool hands wandering instead of Clare's warm hands. The breath against Anna's ear comes from Elsa's champagne-colored lips, Elsa's lithe body pressing onto Anna's.

But this isn't Elsa.

"Wait," Anna pants as Clare kisses down Anna's chest.

The woman pauses. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. . . I can't do this." Anna sits up, forcing Clare to sit back on her knees.

"Was it something I did?"

"No. I'm just an idiot. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have called." Anna hugs herself and looks down in shame. "I shouldn't have wasted your time."

"Oh, relax," Clare chuckles, trying to let Anna know that it's okay to stop. "It was fun while it lasted. What's eating you? Er, sexual innuendo not intended."

"I thought that if I slept with someone new, these feelings that I have for someone else would go away, and they just aren't."

"Why not just date the girl?" Clare asks, getting up and finding her shirt.

"I teach her son."

"So?"

"So it's. . . it's. . . it's so wrong and just inappropriate—"

"You only live once, Anna. Don't regret the should-haves. Who knows? Maybe this girl you're pining after is pining after you, too."

Anna is silent, pouting at the bedspread.

"Look, give it a shot. The worst thing that can happen is that she'll say no." Clare finishes dressing herself. "If things don't work out, you still have my number. It's been an interesting night, Anna. Thank you." Clare blows her a kiss and sees herself out.

Anna groans and buries her face in her hands.

Elsa has just returned from a meeting with her staff discussing ideas for November's issue. She feels good about what came out of it, but Jasmine had churned out some autumn date ideas that made Elsa daydream about doing them all with Anna. After adjourning the meeting, she had rushed to her office to daydream in peace.

She sits at her desk and stares at her packed lunch, complete with a note from Olaf telling her to have a good day and that he loves her. Maybe one day the notes will be in Anna's handwriting, or maybe it will be in both their handwriting.

But for now, Elsa has to ignore the minor spelling mistakes and messy writing that is her son's.

There's a knock on her door, and she looks up to see Jane poke her head in.

"Hey, did you need something?" Elsa asks.

"Not really. I'm just seeing if you still need current events for the November issue." Jane's tone is unenthusiastic, making Elsa furrow her brows.

"I mean. . . I guess. What's the matter? I thought you liked current events?"

"It's great, Elsa, but I do a lot of editing work on top of it. I just wish I had more options at my disposal." Jane shrugs, avoiding Elsa's gaze. "You know my work. I wish you'd give me a chance."

"Jane—"

Jane shuts the door behind her, making Elsa feel ten times worse than a moment ago. She makes a mental note to address this later after she finishes something she promised herself she'd do today. Elsa ignores her lunch and stands. She approaches the floor-to-ceiling windows and looks out on the clear but cold autumn afternoon.

She looks at the clock mounted on her wall and notes that it's lunchtime over at Olaf's school. After a long talk with Kristoff earlier in the week during which Elsa decided to push away any apprehensions and take a leap of faith, she takes out her phone and dials Anna's number. She'll be alone in her classroom so this call won't disrupt her work. There's really nothing else holding her back other than the facts that she and Anna are both aware of. So, Elsa is riding on a wave of confidence, while simultaneously facing a typhoon of nervousness.

With slightly shaky hands, Elsa puts the phone up to her ear and waits.

Anna is sitting at her desk, eating her Caesar salad. The class is empty, but the door is open, letting the rare sunlight and fresh, cool breeze pour into the class. She can hear the students playing out in the yard, the clanging of the tetherball against the metals poles, and the whistles being blown by the yard staff when they catch a kid doing something wrong.

She's finishing grading a spelling quiz she gave her students yesterday so she can pass them out at the end of the day. Spotify is playing on her computer, a mix of her favorite pop hits along with a few of the app's top picks. Her head bobs to the beat, and she hums the lyrics softly.

Suddenly, another song plays over the one from her computer. Teal eyes look at her phone and see Elsa's name across the screen. She blinks and picks it up, pausing the music at the same time.

"Hello?" Anna says.

"Hi, Anna."

"Hey. . . uh, what's up?"

"I have a question for you."

"Okay?"

She hears Elsa take a deep breath. Then, Elsa speaks.

"Will you go out with me?"

Big thanks to my beta let-it-geaux for giving me helpful notes for this chapter. You're amazing, my friend. Keep being awesome.

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