Reverse Psychology

22: Do you know Elsa?

Have you ever been expelled or suspended? I haven't. I was a good student. It's mostly my anxiety that made me a good student.

BLOSSOM
I would have been stuffing my face with my hazelnut and caramel ice cream till my tummy hurt and my brain froze up like I did when I experienced something similar to heartbreak, granted, Ice cream is inextricable to heartbreak but we were out of my favorite ice cream at home. Ironically, I was suffering from something synonymous to heartbreak and the only ice cream to my access was vanilla and coconut; tantamount to my favorite.

"Are you going to buy that ice cream lady?" Asked a little voice.

I looked away from the open freezer cradling a variety of ice cream tubs and traced the feminine voice to the cute little girl watching me with big crystal blue eyes, hugging a stuffed dinosaur to her chest. My face felt paralyzed and cold from the frosty assault of the open freezer which I blamed for my ineptness to smile.

"I'm trying to decide." I reverted my eyes back at my options, "do I want hazel caramel or do I want mixed fruit?" I turned to the little girl expecting a solution to my dilemma.

She was not over four feet and was probably six or five years old. A silver tiara sat obliquely on her dirty blonde hair tied up in pigtails with her curly tips rubbing against her dark purple top with a picture of a Goth queen on her skull throne. Her shirt contrasted with the pink glittery tutu she was wearing making her stand out like a nineties rock n' roll lead singer.

She rocked on the balls of her feet while saying, "My mom has a hard time deciding what wine to get." I sighed and looked away.

"Of course she does," I muttered dryly.

The alcoholic undertone of her words might just be the hyperbole to describe her mom whom is actually a wine enthusiast but kids have a way of giving too much information and making said information sound strange. Nevertheless, it's always an interesting profile -especially to someone without kids- which had me wondering what a child would describe me as. Would I seem like a serial killer or a sunflower? The similarities are there.

"Did a boy break your heart? Mommy has that same look in her eyes when she and daddy fight."

"No," I titled my head, "but something like that. A lot of things worry me lately."

"Like what?" she chirped and blinked slowly. If her lashes were any longer, I would have felt a breeze on my skin.

I made sure the coast was clear and gestured for her to come closer. She did, waddling cutely and I squatted to her height.

"Now this is a secret but," her eyes lit up, giving up her status of being a kid, "I am a fairy but my friends won't believe."

She gasped and her already big eyes grew wide taking up half of her face. Her fascinated orbs scanned around before leaning into me, whispering, "Are you really a fairy?"

I mimicked her action and she got eager, "don't tell anyone about this."

I bared my right hand in front of her face with a startling bam eliciting giggles from her. She stepped closer having jumped back from surprise and I grinned as she watched my hand with intent.
A frost ball shut up my index finger like a firework tearing through a dark night and burst in the air. In beautiful sparkly flakes, it drizzled down. The little girl stepped back, at first with apprehension then her eyes filled with bewilderment. She snapped to my face; my eyes reflecting the glow of white frost then back to my hand which I imagined were sizzling.

"What else can you do?"

I smirked, finding pleasure in my first audience's approval, "do you know Elsa?" She nodded. "I can do whatever Elsa can."