HTTYD: You Don't Know the Meaning of "Nice"? (Hiccstrid)

Chapter 4

Astrid's P.O.V.

Criss knocked on the door and Hiccup answered it with a smile. "Hello, ladies! Come on in, make yourselves at home," he says and steps to the side to let us in. I stared around in shock. It was at least X5 bigger than my apartment! Well, I'd expect nothing less for the mayor and his son. We take a seat at the table and Criss starts talking to Hiccup. I was letting my mind go to my upcoming interviews. What if I didn't get them? I'd have to ask for a raise at Starbucks on my first day. I won't be able to keep up the rent! I'll be evicted! I'll have no where to go! I'll starve!

"Hollerkey!" I jump as Criss shouts my fake name.

"What?" I ask, looking around.

"We're talking about life. You always take part in that topic. Where are you?" she asks.

"Just...thinking," I tell her. More like obsessively worrying.

"About what?" Hiccup asks.

"...Life. So technically I am taking part in the conversation, just not verbally," I tell him and he and Criss roll their eyes.

Time skip

"Thank you for having us," Criss and I say in unison as we leave Hiccup's apartment and walk to mine. 

"Could you have been more rude?!" Criss asks angrily as we walk into my living space.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking!" I shout, trying not to let my panic show as the thoughts come back to my head.

"About what?!" she questions.

"...What if I can't keep up the rent?" I ask quietly, "If I don't get all the jobs I can, I won't be able to even pay for a meal with my job at Starbucks! And, if people find out who my father is, I can lose all of them if I get hired." By now I was pacing in my living room, biting my knuckles nervously.

"They aren't going to track you back to him. And you can't control the fact that he's a drug dealer," she tells me.

"What ever, just go away, I need to calm down," I tell her as I plug in my music and she rolls her eyes before leaving. After a few minutes, I finally decide to get an answer. I call my dad and wait for him to answer.

A: Hey, what happens if I get kicked out?
D: You go back to the orphanage.
A: Back?
D: Have I not told you?
A: If you did I'd know what you mean.
D: Your adopted. We found you on the door step 13 years ago. You wouldn't remember. Have fun!

I hang up and stare at the wall. I was raised by strangers?! Then my real name isn't Hofferson!

3rd P.O.V.

Astrid was safe! Or was she? Her "father" still knew where to find her if he ever wanted to. That conversation answered one question and brought up more. Where were her birth parents? Why did they give her to horrible people? Who were they? What was her real name? Would they welcome her if she met them? What were they like? What did they do? Were they alive? Why didn't she connect the dots earlier? She looked nothing like the people that raised her. They both had narrow faces and she had a slightly rounder face. They had green and brown eyes, she had blue. They had black hair while her's was the opposite. She figured out the divorce; why didn't she figure this out?! 

That's when she realized she had...when she was 14, she was looking through the photo album and asked her "dad" why she didn't look like him or his wife, and why there were no pictures of her and Ingrid in the Maternity Ward. He had said that they were too excited to take pictures and that Astrid took after her grandparents. Astrid had believed him. Astrid scoffed at her thoughts. She was no longer going to believe anyone. They all lied to her. Her friends lied to her countless times, her dad has become a compulsive liar...and she's lied to herself. She said she'd be fine. She said she could do it. Told herself she didn't need anyone. She was 16! Of course she needed someone! 

If only Derek was real. If only she had a room mate that could help her pay bills. If only she had at least one supportive friend that wouldn't just like to hang out with her because she's on her own. If only Ms. Beaya would understand if she couldn't pay the rent. Astrid laid on her sleeping bag and tossed and turned all night, thinking of more "What if's", "Why's",  "How's", and "If only's". She opened her eyes and looked at her phone in her hand, realizing she had dialed 911. Her thumb was hovering over the button that would make the call, bright and green in the darkness. Green; the color that means go. Green; the color of safety. Green; the color you see most in the spring, the season of new hope. 

Green; the color that can take her to a new home, a new world. Green; the color she used to love. Green; the color that could change her world. Green; the color of Hiccup's beautiful eyes... Astrid looked at the button that would cancel the call, dark and red in the gloom of her life. Red; the color that symbolized more negative than positive. Red; the color of blood. Red; the color of war. Red; the color of danger. Red; the color that made her want to puke. Red; the color that her adoptive parents used to love seeing on her. If she went with green, her life will eventually get better. If she followed the red path, her life will get worse in some way. Her phones off button was yellow, due to the case. 

Yellow; the color of fear. Perhaps she should take the yellow brick road. If she does, 911 would be up and ready to dial. It would be the cowardly thing to save this screen for later use. (In her opinion) Astrid took a deep breath and clicked the red button before closing the dialing pad. She wasn't afraid of a life worse than this. It could hit her at full speed for all she cared. She'd been on her own for much longer than two days. What's a few more years?