His Game

Chapter 11: Elsa

I slam the door and march away, scowling.

"Elsa!" Anna cries, "Why did you let him talk like that to you?"

I ignore her, angrily stomping my feet as I walk. I'm acting like a child, that much is true, and I know it, but...

"Elsa Winters!" 

"Stop, Anna."

"No!" She glares at me. "You always tell me everything."

I stop walking.

"And?"

"Why aren't you telling me?"

"Telling you about what, exactly?"

"I don't know, whatever it is you're not telling me!" Anna says, "I know you too well, Elsa, and I know when you're hiding things from me, okay?"

I roll my eyes and sigh. Anna has never annoyed me this much before, but right now, I feel like hitting  her.

"I'm going to my room." I snap.

"Elsa, wait!" Anna grabs me by the hand. "Why aren't you telling me?"

"Do I have to tell you everything? Do I really need to make you a part of everything? Listen, maybe there are some things that are for me, and me alone!"

"But-"

"But nothing! You can't get mad at me for not giving you every little detail! Not everything is about you!"

Anna looks like I've struck her. "I just-"

"Girls." Papa comes out of his study, giving us an odd look. "What is this about?"

Anna looks at me and I look at her. Even though we were fighting, no way are we telling Papa. He'd just start handing out push-ups.

"Nothing, Papa." We say together.

"Good. I'd like it if things could stay that way. No more yelling in the hallways. Understood?" He asks coldly.

"Yes, Papa." We chorus.

"Thank you. Now, Anna, I would like it if you would go study, please, and Elsa, I would like a word with you." 

Anna looks as surprised as I feel. Then, not just surprised, but panicked. Did Jack show him the video?

Papa holds the door open for me and I walk into his study stiffly, trying to hide that my hands are shaking. He gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk, opposite of his own.

The study is large. Two of the walls are hidden by bookshelves, filled with neatly stacked books that I've always wanted to read but been too afraid to ask for. Lush carpeting and fancy curtains make the place look like it was straight out of a Victorian story book.

I sit down, eyes already starting to tear up. This is where I say good-bye to ice skating forever.

"Elsa." Papa says firmly. "I would like you to explain why-"

"I'm sorry, Papa! I'm sorry, but I really do want to keep doing it!" I blurt.

Papa looks surprised. "You can continue to do your schooling," He says, "Whatever made you think I would keep your from studying?"

Oh.

Oh.

"U-um, I don't really- Please, Papa, continue." I say quickly. "Why do you need to talk about my studying?"

Still giving me an odd look, Papa says, "I understand that you graduated high school when you were fourteen, and you plan on attending college in two years, when you are eighteen, correct?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Well, we've let Jack have a few days of no school, seeing as how he just moved in." He scowls at the mention of Jack. "But now, I believe that it's time for him to pick up school again."

"But what does this have to do with me, Papa?"

"I want you to tutor him."

No. No way. Never. That's the most awful thing I've heard in my life.

"Yes, Papa. I think it's a grand idea." I smile.

"Good. Hopefully, he will cooperate."

"If not?"

"I have a few tricks of my sleeve, dearest." Papa laughs. 

Most of the time Papa is strict and a little stiff, but when he laughs, you can't help but smile. He hardly ever laughs, though. He must be in a good mood. He probably had a large sale on some of our products.

"Is that all, Papa?"

"Yes, you can go now." He shuffles some paperwork and motions to the door.

I race to my room right away, turning the lock and falling back against the wall.

I hate Jack. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I HATE HIM.

Hate is a powerful thing, too. 

Maybe I can use it to my advantage.