The Prince's Tutor

Harry walked down Mill Road with Callie only an arm length’s away. He was disguised in a green baseball hat that covered his ginger mane and a pair of Oakley Romeo sunglasses.

Callie walked along side him, peering over at him in amusement.

“You do realize there’s no sun out today?” she asked, hiding a giggle.

Harry glanced over at her, “Do you rather me walk along side you just the way I am? So everyone can notice?”

“No,” she said quietly, smiling softly to herself. “I just don’t see how no one can tell. It’s so obvious.”

“To you it obvious because you know I’m here. But they don’t expect me to be in Cambridge, so how can they tell?”

“Still,” she continued, “It’s like Clark Kent and Superman. How can’t you see the similarities? Even with your poorly disguised sunglasses and baseball cap.”

Harry turned his face towards her, his eyes latching on to a pair of emerald lenses. He could feel the familiar knot in his stomach return to him with each breath he took.

He knew what it was, it happened fairly often. But he couldn’t grasp a hold onto the reason. It was floating somewhere in the atmosphere, like a desolate and forgotten mist.

“What?” she asked, warily. Their eye contact had lasted a smidge of a second longer than what was allowed for their kind of friendship.

“Nothing. I just keep wondering what it is that’s keeping you up at night.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes,” he motioned his fingers to his own eyes, “you look tired.”

Callie reached a hand to touch the sinking bags under her eyes. She felt the sullen coolness of her own skin, and felt ashamed for not noticing it earlier.

“Oh,” her voice faded a little, “its schoolwork mainly, I suppose.”

“Hmmm,” Harry pressed his lips together to hide a smile, “must be tough to be a swot. Lot of work goes into it y’ suppose?”

“Hey!” Callie turned to glare at him, “I closed my ears to that word last time, but don’t think you can keep calling me that. It’s not nice.”

A chuckle escaped him as he couldn’t help but find amusement in her words. Even if she was actually mad at him, the high shrill in her voice kept her from sounding austere.

“And how does one close their ears?” he laughed, throwing her a wide grin.

Callie failed at suppressing her smile as she answered him. They were only a block away from the ice cream kiosk.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I meant. Look, its right over there.”

She pointed at the small blue and yellow kiosk across from them. A sign with a cheeky penguin was stapled to the side of it.

The pair had walked up to the counter and after Harry and Callie decided on one vanilla and one chocolate cup, they took a seat on the bench.

“So this is where the college youth spend their free time. Good to know. I don’t think I’ll ever join in, though.”

“Don’t take it too seriously, okay? I’m sorry this isn’t the fine dining of the Royal Palace.”

Harry took off the sunglasses and placed them on the green baseball cap. He leaned his body over to hers, but carefully let his arm support his weight.

“Stop it,” he said gently, “you know I’m not like that. Don’t make me sound like that.”

Callie watched with wide eyes as the Prince of Wales, carelessly leaned over her lap, his face practically in front of hers.

She began to look around, feeling cautious of any onlookers who might suddenly recognize the man next to her.

“Callie.”

His voice was soft and held tenderness. It didn’t hold any annoyance or bitter angst when he said it, and Callie felt that the moment had sprung out of nowhere.

“Hmm?” she asked, feeling breathless all of a sudden.

“It’s so peaceful here,” he said, looking around at the scene in front of them. Callie watched him as he stared at the people passing them by, not aware that Harry and Callie were sitting only feet in front of them.

Callie could detect a sadness that seemed to radiate off of him, and she searched his eyes for the answer.

“Is this what its like to be like everyone else?” He said simply, an unwavering seriousness glided smoothly in his voice. From his tone alone, Callie had found her answer.

She allowed silence to fill between them. It wasn’t an uneasy silence, like the kind that hung lifelessly in the air.

It was comfortable, serene. She felt the whole world of people disappear around them, and even though she was well aware of where they were and who they were, for once everything just seemed to stop.

They sat there a moment; both enjoying each other’s company. It suddenly occurred to her that this was one of the rare moments they weren’t fighting. She felt a strange comfort pass between them, and Callie couldn’t help but wish things in life were always as simple as two people sitting on a bench, sharing a common feeling.

“Were you serious the other night?” Harry said suddenly, “That you’re just like me?”

Callie looked up from the puddle of melting ice cream and saw that his electric eyes were frozen to hers, anticipating her response.

“In a way, yes,” she said quietly, taking her spoon and jabbing it at the melted goo. The melted liquid curved itself around the spoon and Callie felt an uneasiness grow within her.

“What way?” he asked, his voice probing for her to continue. Callie’s butterflies seemed to jolt in her stomach unkindly. She bit her lip in thought, unsure of how to answer him.

“I’ll tell you about it some other time, not today.”

Harry stared at her for a long time, sizing her up in his mind. He was trying to decide whether or not to further push the subject. He sensed something disturbing her, shaking her underneath her composed appearance. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear it.

“Eat your ice cream,” he said suddenly, his usual bratty tone had returned “I paid three pounds for that.”

Callie looked at him, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“Really? After owning practically half the money in the country, you’re going to be cheap about ice cream?”

He smiled smugly at her, a dangerous glint in his eye. He leaned over to her face, a devilish smile played about on his lips. Callie watched as his nose practically touched her own, and couldn’t ignore the strong distaste that was forming in the pit of her stomach. The peaceful moment that they had just shared was now officially over.

“Yep. Eat it up, princess,” he said.

After seeing her angry glare, he felt a sudden satisfaction enter through him and he happily rose from the bench. He pulled the sunglasses off his baseball cap and replaced them back on the bridge of his nose.

“And I don’t own half the money in the country,” he said matter-of factly, a smugness returning to his voice.

Callie rolled her eyes and smiled to herself. “Prat,” she mouthed silently before rising from the bench and following after him.