Princess

I slapped him moments after we…kissed. I didn’t even know the guy before he came from nowhere and planted one on me when I had been simply minding my own business by enjoying my rare opportunity outside the confinements of the stupid institution. You know what’s the best part? Everyone around us had been kissing too, so it was one of those ridiculous flash mob things which I had so often heard (and scoffed at).

Like so many other times—I had been at the wrong place at the wrong time doing the wrong thing.

“What did you do that for?” He looked more upset than he should…unless he had been actually enjoying that kiss? I actually felt embarrassed at that thought. It had been a long time since I…never mind. It’s no point bringing up something so trivial.

I notice out of the corner of my eye that the other flash mob participants had disappeared as quietly and quickly as they had arrived, but he remained, still watching me expectantly for an answer. Frowning at him, I reply, as unpleasantly as possible, “I’m not one of those flash mob people.”

“So?” He smiled, annoyingly. I noticed that his brown eyes brightened unnaturally as he did so.

I wasn’t sure if he was plain stupid or just oblivious since I had already made myself so clear. “I didn’t want to be kissed.” I omitted a few choice swear words that would’ve applied for this situation.

He shrugged. “Okay…therefore?”

I resisted kicking him where the sun doesn’t shine and walked away from him. There was no point in talking to someone who would just aggravate me. But I didn’t get very far before I heard him again, saying, “My name’s Dylan Fuller. What’s yours?”

The name ‘Fuller’ rang a bell but I was simply being ridiculous. There are so many Fullers in the world and he was so stupid…it couldn’t be. Brown hair, brown eyes and an annoying smile...it certainly seemed similar but his attitude was completely off.

Snorting at my paranoia and at his nerve, I continue walking. A few moments later, he actually caught up with me and grabbed my arm. A jolt of something passed through us but clearly I was imaging it because his smile never faltered. Perhaps it had been my overactive imagination at play again. “I’d like to know you better.”

“I’m not so certain that I even want to know you, Dylan Fuller.” I extracted my arm from his grasp as gently as I could since I didn’t actually want to physically hurt the guy despite how irritating he was. Wondering how I could lose the guy, I watched as a crowd emerged from the subway.

Then I made a run for it, merging effortlessly as I could. But I could’ve sworn that I heard Dylan Fuller saying, “I hope I see you again. You’re a good kisser!”

What a nut.
***
I glared at my door. Before I left my room, I had forgotten to take my key with me and now I was stuck outside, making the stupidest mistake ever. I had already dialled for the school’s locksmith but it was going to be a long wait because he was on his lunch break. His lunch break was apparently more important.

I had made an amateur’s mistake (doing something so foolish could’ve possibly cost me my life if I was on a mission) and I was absolutely furious about. The fact that the locksmith was being obstinate only made it worse.

The door next to mine opened and a guy I’d never seen before stepped out, leaning against the door. Instances where guys lived next door to girls had been pretty ordinary here but I’d never had it happen to me before. Naturally, I’ll give him an once-over.

What wasn’t natural was the way I’d reacted when he caught me staring at him. I’d blushed.
I’m not the type that’d blush, especially when it comes to guys. But here I was, blushing as though that’s the most normal thing to do, when the guy hadn’t even said a word yet. For all I knew, he could be a dumb, horny jock.

Though I guess two things I picked up about him didn’t seem to be giving off that kind of vibe. Firstly, he seemed pretty put together (no incense smell, no piercing or tattoos though those didn’t usually tell you anything except that the person liked body art and no injuries on him—bruises, healing wounds etc) and secondly, he didn’t check me out like I did to him. Instead, he smiled at me and asked, sympathetically, “Locked out?”

Okay. Maybe, he wasn’t a horny jock. Maybe he’s just dumb. “No shit, Sherlock. How’d you figure that one out?”

The guy seemed more amused than pissed off that I’d basically insulted his intelligence. I hid my shock (most of the kids here had some sort of temper problem) and concentrated instead on what he said, since that was what gave most of them away.
“Would you like to come in and wait then?”

Well. I don’t know what I should’ve expected but it clearly wasn’t this. His tone was friendly, even, like he really meant what he said. I’d seen my far share of psychopaths and how they appeared pretty normal on the surface but were mentally deranged but for some reason, I’d bet that this dude wasn’t one of them.

Still, it never harmed to be a little cautious. “Um…no offence but I don’t have a clue who you are.”

He seemed surprised at that and my annoyance (mostly at myself for not paying attention when the people next door moved at and I received the letter telling me who was moving in) must’ve showed because the guy smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought that you’d, uh, already know who I am. Guessed I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

He sticks his hand out and I stared at it for a few seconds, wondering why he thought we should shake. While I was doing that, he said, “I’m Luke Ouverson, your new neighbour.”

Realising that I was going to really stick out in his memory if I didn’t shake his hand (and trust me, being remembered was not good for me), I hastily took it and pumped it up and down, saying, blandly, “Nice to meet you. I’m Christina Drake.”

Luke smiles and again, I can’t help but notice the way his green eyes sparkled as he did so. “I know.”

Letting go of his hand, I took a step back. Crap, even if I hadn’t wanted to, it seemed that Luke Ouverson already had an impression of me. I was suddenly missing my old, uncaring neighbours very much.

Smiling icily at him, I turned away from him, certain that now we were over and done with pleasantries, he would leave me alone.

“Um…so would you like to come in and wait?”

My head practically snapped back to face him again, head swimming with reasons why he was being nice to me but immediately eliminated most of the possibilities. I didn’t know the guy and his expression was simply friendly. There was 1,200 kids staying at the institution and they had to stick me with one that was nice. What the hell did Luke Everson do anyway, to get him sent here?

And since I was in so deep anyway, what was the point of resisting him?

Sighing, I replied, “Sure.”

Luke grinned and opened the door a little wider and allowed me in first before following.

I took in the room. Again, it surprised me.

The design was generic but during his short stay here, he somehow managed to turn the room upside down. The beds (uh, why did Luke have two beds?) were unmade, leftover food was all over the room and magazines were carelessly thrown around. I had an urge to clean the room up but it really wasn’t my business.

But I did turn to Luke and say, “Hygiene is overrated, huh?”

Luke shrugged. “Most of the mess didn’t come from me. I have a roommate.”

The way he said roommate resounded in my brain for some reason. I wasn’t so pathetic that I leapt to conclusions but chose to ask, carefully, “Ah, that explains a bit. Who may this roommate be?”

“You seriously need to start paying more attention to your surroundings. What happens when the people staying next to you are ax murderers?” He asked, teasingly. When he doesn’t get a rise out of me, he said, “Dylan Fuller.”

My heart stopped for a moment before it started. Then I knew that I needed to get the hell out of there before he returned. Who knew what sort of crap the nut would try to pull with me again?

Unfortunately, I moved too slowly because the front door opened and there stood the boy, in all his stupidity.

I was a dead woman.
***
When the stupid, stupid locksmith returned, I could’ve kissed him.

Luke had found it hilarious how Dylan and I met and alternating between shooting me wide smiles and studying me intently when he thought I wasn’t looking. But I did and found it a little bit disarming because he really was cute but still a little odd. The only real flaw I could pick up on was that he be related to Dylan? It turned out that he was Dylan’s, adopted nonetheless, cousin and best friend.

It had been really, really difficult not to be violent when dealing with Dylan. Nobody I knew was as annoying as Dylan but I tried to deal with it. I nearly lost it, however, when he tried to hug me goodbye. Thankfully, Luke had the sense (and I noticed his pathetically hidden bemusement) to hold him back.

Stupid boys.

I tried to keep my frazzled nerves in check as I sat on my bed and pressed a small, hidden red button underneath my bed.

A screen appeared at the head of the bed and the woman I’d known since I was a child appeared, her expression mildly worried but mostly distant. “There you are, Kristen. You’re a few minutes behind schedule.”

I hated it, hated the way she always used my name when reprimanding me. It almost served as a reminder of what kind of girl I could’ve been—a real Kristen Hart-instead of the shell that I was now and I knew that she knew the way it drove me crazy.

She had to know. After all, she was the master of intimidation and made it her business to know everyone’s weakness.

Smiling tightly, I replied, knowing that nothing would suffice when it came to explanations, “Sorry about that, Calloway. I was running a little late.”

The mild worry vanished, replaced with vague impatience. “Do you have anything new to update?”

I thought about that, I really did.

Aside from the fact that I was miserable here and that I had two strange boys living next to me, there really wasn’t anything to talk about. I knew, of course, that Madam Calloway wouldn’t have any patience to deal with something as unimportant as my emotions and certainly didn’t care for relationships at the institution and thus wouldn’t be interested in Luke Ouverson and Dylan Fuller.

Besides, it wasn’t this that she wanted to know about. She wanted to know if I had any news of them, the ones who had seen me. The ones that would surely kill me, perhaps torturing me for information first before killing me, if they ever saw me again. But since I hadn’t, I said, “No, nothing new at all.”

“Very well then.” Her image disappeared from the screen.

This was her way, no hello and no goodbye, strictly business.

I’d gotten used to it but still, I couldn’t help but wish that things could’ve turned out differently for me. A foolish, stupid wish but one that I had all the same.
***