Would You Bargain With Hell?

“It’s a joke, isn’t it?”

Immediately, his face fell, and I felt bad.

“Patrick, I’m seventeen. We’ve known each other for eleven months. This is insane.” I pleaded, no part of me, had pictured he was remotely serious.

Suddenly, as he remained silent I became enamored with the interior of his cadillac, a light grey interior with extremely tinted windows. It smelled like the forest and was clean as a whistle. The radio dock was set with his favourite England stations

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t really want to ask…” He drew his face away, his eyes following the people fleeing the graveyard.

“What?”

He looked back at me. “It’s my dad Rayder, he insists if I love you we’ll be married, or else we don’t love each other and he won’t let us be together.”

“Uhm, I mean, does he hate me that much? And, you are an adult? Right? He can’t keep you from me.” I folded my legs.

“He doesn’t hate you, he questions my choices. And yes, I’’m an adult, however, he controls my life, money, and everything.”

I closed my eyes, still slightly shaken, and then I realized where I had recognized Daniels face before. “You’re dad owns a cruise ship company.”

He squinted. “I mean, I did already know that.”

I smiled and punched him playfully. “I mean, I saw him on the news before. I’m still confused, why did he want us to get married?”

“He said that, since I claimed to love you I would have no problem marrying you, to prove it wasn’t just a teenaged fling.”

Then it set in. “You think this is more than a teenaged fling?”

“Well, yeah, you don’t?” His eyes became pale, expectant.

“I do. I think it’s definitely more than that, but I didn’t know that you did.”

“I mean, A teen fling is characterized by the lack of good intentions and large amounts of sex, and he haven’t even slept together yet.” He was smiling, and I knew he was joking, but he saw my face taken off guard. “We don’t have to ,remember, I didn’t mean it like…sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. Have you-done it before?” I bit my bottom lip.

“Yes. But I didn’t love her.” He added as if it would somehow make me feel better. “I assume you haven’t?”

I shook my head.

“And we won’t until you want to, okay?” He kissed my cheek.

I nodded. “But to be clear, we aren’t getting married.”

“It seems that way.” He smiled.

“Your dad won’t like that will he?”

“I don’t care.”

He took me back to his house. Over the week he drove me around London, I went shopping with Janice, rode in the London Eye, and had a picnic. On Saturday we packed everything up and he drove me to the airport where he told me his mother wouldn’t be joining us. That she wanted to be back home. I told him he could stay if he wanted, when he cleverly retorted that his home was wherever I was.

Again we rode on a plane which was slightly terrifying. He carried my luggage for me. We rode in a taxi, which was familiar to me, but he seemed fearful of the foreign cabby. He dropped me off at my house. He kissed me goodbye and said he’d call tomorrow. Celine was outside and she bombarded me with questions about England, and asked as she always did if I slept with Patrick.

Celine then changed topics to herself. Her boyfriend flew off for some tournament and she was proud of him but also missed him dearly. She got her hair lightened another level, and it was too crispy for her to be comfortable with. He godfather sent her a new dress. Then she popped in a way and kissed my cheek, reminding me that my birthday was in just a week. I nodded.

Then she threw out plans for a huge birthday party. She bit her fingernails and chanted excitedly while I pretended to listen. She finally jogged back in the house. In the foyer I dropped my bag and pet Gendry until he stuck his little tongue out.

Then Grace came downstairs. “Rayder!” She was showing very prominently now, at 8 months. She had at some point given up on remaning posh. She came in grey heather sweatpants and a tank top. “How was England, did you meet Patricks family? I bet they were marvelous.” She fancied herself a socialite.

“England was lovely Grace, And his family was very welcoming, you look great by the way, how have you been feeling?”

“Actually, not all that well, let me say. The babies are kicking a lot, and I’m ill every morning.”

“Babies? Plural?”

“Oh I didn’t get to tell you!” Grace nearly popped out the babies right then she jumped so high. “I’m having twins, at least it’s not triplets this time.” She giggled.

“Wow. Boys? Or girls?”

“One of each! We decided, on names.” She had that glow, that all pregnant women seemed to be known for. “Madeleine and Gabriel.”

“Wow, those are great names, Grace.” I smiled, they were certainely better than Penelope, and Greggor, which she had thrown at me over the phone. I wasn't sure why she swore by Penelope so badly, but I'm glad someone got that out of her head.

“Deary me, you must be jet-lagged and here I am going on and on, go on to your room sweety.” She smiled, holding her belly.

I took to the steps, as I made for the corner I turned.

“Rayder! I forgot, some hairy boy came by looking for you, the maid took down a message for you, it should be on your bed, do let me know what it’s about, please dove.”

“Yeah, thank you!” I couldn’t picture what she meant by hairy man, I didn’t know anymen who had excess hair to any super extent, nor did I know anyone that Grace wouldn’t have recognized. I took the time to refold all my England clothes, and set up the London painting I bought before falling into the bed.

I grabbed the paper between my fingers. It was folded, and my heart pounded in my chest, the front was monogrammed with a poorly handwritten ‘M’.