The Librarian and the Rich Boy
Disclaimer: This plot may contain too much sarcasm for the average person to handle.
Chapter One: Hate at First Sight
…with light effort he picks her up, cradling her against his body and chuckling at her protests while he walks down the hallway for others to see what their relationship is.
Sighing in utmost content, Meia smiled at the result of her efforts. She had invested almost twenty-four hours in the library if she excluded the times she left her sanctuary unattended to feast on her culinary efforts. Finally every single book has found their place—their rightful place, she should add—in this beautiful two-story room. Hours after hours had been invested into placing the book into the Dewey Decimal system, then to alphabetical—by authors of the correct genre; her alphabetizing by title had been a complete failure when she came to the Japanese books—then to the standard “American” system of Fiction, Nonfiction, Reference, and the Miscellaneous, then back to the Dewey Decimal system again. Surely after such efforts, she must be fitter than the average athlete from all the journeying up and downstairs. Either way, Meia was pleased. After slowly laying her head down on the table, she closed her eyes blissfully, eventually falling asleep to the silent voices of her precious books reading to her.
Meia awoke to an odd noise ten minutes later. Footsteps. Foreign footsteps. The sound of those shoes has never crossed her ears before; indeed, a stranger is trespassing onto her beloved home. She gazed suspiciously at the sneaky figure who seemed to think that he was stealthy enough for people not to notice his ostentatious entrance.
“The library is closed today.” Her announcement flew past the stranger’s ears without notice; he tiptoed past her into the room with the large sign with the words “SCIENCE—NO DUMMIES BOOKS HERE.” Meia scoffed indignantly when the door closed with a tight click, meaning he would be alone with her books. She contemplated on knocking politely to ask him if he needed any assistance, but that would be suspicious. She also debated on whether or not she should stick herself to the door to listen for any abuse he might do to her books, intentional or not. For a split second, Meia stopped thinking; with her standing here deciding what she should do to watch out of her books, he could be in there splitting their poor spines for all she knows. Time for drastic measures, she thought, approaching her laptop.
Two hours later, she continued to watch his figure hunching over the opened book from her laptop—she knew there was some use to the cameras she had installed a few months earlier, now this means she can convince the librarians to pay for them. From the dimensions of the book, Meia quickly labeled it the Encyclopedia of Astronomy. She couldn’t believe it; this may be the first time in her life that she meets, or rather, have in her library, someone who reads the encyclopedia. Although she was gaping at the screen for five minutes, she did not notice that he had left the room and in his hands was the book that he placed on the table to check out. The stranger stood there silently, waiting until her expression would change. For five minutes, it did not.
“Miss?”
She did not answer but continued to gaze at her laptop screen.
“Miss?”
The stranger raised an eyebrow at her frozen expression. Waving his hand in front of her face, he called out to her once again, finding that her open mouth had closed and instead of a shocked expression, she looked rather blanked out. “Miss, are you okay?”
“…h-huh?”
The blurred eyes looked at him with confusion. He held up the encyclopedia that he had been reading and signaled to the device that would check it out to him.
“I suggest you don’t zone out like that so that others won’t have to do the same thing that I did. It does seem quite embarrassing.” He mumbled to her in quite an analytical tone.
Without nothing else said, he walked off, cradling the encyclopedia in the crook of his arms. Meia frowned with an almost murderous expression on her face at his earlier comment. There was no way she’d let him get away with that. Before she could slap her witty comeback on his face, the stranger had already stepped out of her sanctuary, leaving nothing but the sound of the new sliding doors clicking shut.
“HOW DARE HE?!” Meia grumbled crankily, slamming her fist on the table quite powerfully.
Sighing in utmost content, Meia smiled at the result of her efforts. She had invested almost twenty-four hours in the library if she excluded the times she left her sanctuary unattended to feast on her culinary efforts. Finally every single book has found their place—their rightful place, she should add—in this beautiful two-story room. Hours after hours had been invested into placing the book into the Dewey Decimal system, then to alphabetical—by authors of the correct genre; her alphabetizing by title had been a complete failure when she came to the Japanese books—then to the standard “American” system of Fiction, Nonfiction, Reference, and the Miscellaneous, then back to the Dewey Decimal system again. Surely after such efforts, she must be fitter than the average athlete from all the journeying up and downstairs. Either way, Meia was pleased. After slowly laying her head down on the table, she closed her eyes blissfully, eventually falling asleep to the silent voices of her precious books reading to her.
Meia awoke to an odd noise ten minutes later. Footsteps. Foreign footsteps. The sound of those shoes has never crossed her ears before; indeed, a stranger is trespassing onto her beloved home. She gazed suspiciously at the sneaky figure who seemed to think that he was stealthy enough for people not to notice his ostentatious entrance.
“The library is closed today.” Her announcement flew past the stranger’s ears without notice; he tiptoed past her into the room with the large sign with the words “SCIENCE—NO DUMMIES BOOKS HERE.” Meia scoffed indignantly when the door closed with a tight click, meaning he would be alone with her books. She contemplated on knocking politely to ask him if he needed any assistance, but that would be suspicious. She also debated on whether or not she should stick herself to the door to listen for any abuse he might do to her books, intentional or not. For a split second, Meia stopped thinking; with her standing here deciding what she should do to watch out of her books, he could be in there splitting their poor spines for all she knows. Time for drastic measures, she thought, approaching her laptop.
Two hours later, she continued to watch his figure hunching over the opened book from her laptop—she knew there was some use to the cameras she had installed a few months earlier, now this means she can convince the librarians to pay for them. From the dimensions of the book, Meia quickly labeled it the Encyclopedia of Astronomy. She couldn’t believe it; this may be the first time in her life that she meets, or rather, have in her library, someone who reads the encyclopedia. Although she was gaping at the screen for five minutes, she did not notice that he had left the room and in his hands was the book that he placed on the table to check out. The stranger stood there silently, waiting until her expression would change. For five minutes, it did not.
“Miss?”
She did not answer but continued to gaze at her laptop screen.
“Miss?”
The stranger raised an eyebrow at her frozen expression. Waving his hand in front of her face, he called out to her once again, finding that her open mouth had closed and instead of a shocked expression, she looked rather blanked out. “Miss, are you okay?”
“…h-huh?”
The blurred eyes looked at him with confusion. He held up the encyclopedia that he had been reading and signaled to the device that would check it out to him.
“I suggest you don’t zone out like that so that others won’t have to do the same thing that I did. It does seem quite embarrassing.” He mumbled to her in quite an analytical tone.
Without nothing else said, he walked off, cradling the encyclopedia in the crook of his arms. Meia frowned with an almost murderous expression on her face at his earlier comment. There was no way she’d let him get away with that. Before she could slap her witty comeback on his face, the stranger had already stepped out of her sanctuary, leaving nothing but the sound of the new sliding doors clicking shut.
“HOW DARE HE?!” Meia grumbled crankily, slamming her fist on the table quite powerfully.
So MS-39122134 was found in 1993; Lucian frowned at the fact, lifting his finger from the crisp page of his newly acquired book. After taking a swift glance through his telescope, he closed the windows carefully—of course, not after placing the magenta velvet cloth over his beloved instrument—and returned to his book. There was no doubt more stars out there for him to discover; although, it was quite a disappointment that the stellar body he had been eyeing for the past few weeks had already been found.
When he finished seating himself comfortably on his bed, Lucian grabbed the encyclopedia with a careful hand, despite that it seemed quite weary from time. There would be no doubt a time when he’d return the book, meaning he would have to see that girl again. Being the only one who occupied the library at that time, surely, she should be of some level of importance in the hierarchy of those who guard the place and its contents (if he had seen correctly, she had a camera hooked up in the room that he was reading in; he could still remember its giant circular lens following his hand every time he turned the page). He could almost see the seething glare that would form on her pretty little face if he were to bring the book back in any form than what he had originally left with.
Either way, until that time, the book would belong to him, so that means he’d read it to his content. Lucien will memorize every single one of these details and discover a new star. Surely that would impress his father and the rest of the mindless mob in his family. They have been pampered with money for way too long—surely, as his mother had always said, there will come a time that the river will run dry.
His musing was then interrupted by the whistle of his ringtone—an annoying one, at that. It must be Angeline. Nothing can explain how she had gotten hold of his cell phone much less change the ringtone on it so that he’d know it was her every time the damn whistle threatened to displace his ear drum. Even now, Lucian still does not know how to get out of the blasted mistake that he had committed during her childhood. The girl had adamantly refused to drink her medicine (in his opinion, the world would be better off if people had left her that way, so she’d die of that contracted pneumonia and Lucian would actually be sane at this period in time), and as a result, his mother had called him in and forced him to promise her that he’d marry her if Angeline would drink the vile drink with the nasty black roots floating around. No wonder the girl wouldn’t drink it, and because of it, delusion made her think that there’d actually be a future involving them two.
“Lucian?” Her sing-song voice called out to him from the other side of the line.
While rolling his eyes, Lucian tried his best not to let the sarcasm seep out of his voice, “What is it, Angeline?”
“Mother asked if you are free next Sunday. She wanted to invite you and your mom and dad over to dinner.”
“Why didn’t you just ask my parents?”
“Well…” She giggled childishly, “I wanted to talk to you. I heard you came back from your ski trip with your friends, how was it?”
Ski trip? Oh, that ski trip. The one where he nearly froze and died. He had been back for two months now, how had she only heard of it just now? Well, he wouldn’t question such miracles that he had gone two months without her. He wouldn’t mind a lifetime, though.
“It was fine.” He answered monotonously, skimming the sentence that he had been reading for the… eighth time. “Is there anything else you need, Angeline?”
She giggled once again before replying, “I love it when you say my name, Lucian.”
Sighing an almost disgusted sigh, Lucian muttered before hanging off and turning his phone off, “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to my book. Good night, Angeline.”
Without another thought, he continued to read his book, finally able to read past the sentence about the dead astronaut in space who faked photos of the moon. Fascinating, indeed. Lucian frowned, finding yet another reason for his father to fund his soon-to-be research on a star that he will soon discover. He had no desire to take over the family business of… equine breeding—or what he called, horse-sitting.
He didn’t even like horses that much.
This seventeen-year-old would rather seat himself behind a telescope all day (or to be more technical, all night, since he would die rather than to brave the dangers of the UV rays on the lenses of his precious baby) than watch a bunch of horses mate, for the lack of better words. He had reasons, anyways, that his mother and father would not accept.
First of all, it was not his fault that genetics had brought him into the world with fair, sensitive skin; he must have been born to be pampered! Second of all, bringing him outside might risk his own life—his sister has yet to let him live down on his childhood memory of being smooched by Angeline out by the horse barn. It was in no way consensual, if only there was a way to convince her. He was not in the wrong to be so… attractive. Other girls at his school often commented on how his blue eyes and blond hair presented a delectable sight to their eyes—of course, he did not do much to react to their compliments, Angeline often drove them away with her bodyguards. Third of all, his build was not suitable for outdoor work. Lucian was the type to… he paused to ponder for the correct word; he was the type who was more fit for intellectual labor rather than physical. He frowned at the thought of lifting a shovel any higher than his knee; that means it would risk the integrity of his clothing. Even at that level, his expensive khaki pants and leather shoes were endangered by the nasty fodder that horses like to think of as food.
Thus, Lucian Beaumont was in no way suitable for outdoor life.
When he finished seating himself comfortably on his bed, Lucian grabbed the encyclopedia with a careful hand, despite that it seemed quite weary from time. There would be no doubt a time when he’d return the book, meaning he would have to see that girl again. Being the only one who occupied the library at that time, surely, she should be of some level of importance in the hierarchy of those who guard the place and its contents (if he had seen correctly, she had a camera hooked up in the room that he was reading in; he could still remember its giant circular lens following his hand every time he turned the page). He could almost see the seething glare that would form on her pretty little face if he were to bring the book back in any form than what he had originally left with.
Either way, until that time, the book would belong to him, so that means he’d read it to his content. Lucien will memorize every single one of these details and discover a new star. Surely that would impress his father and the rest of the mindless mob in his family. They have been pampered with money for way too long—surely, as his mother had always said, there will come a time that the river will run dry.
His musing was then interrupted by the whistle of his ringtone—an annoying one, at that. It must be Angeline. Nothing can explain how she had gotten hold of his cell phone much less change the ringtone on it so that he’d know it was her every time the damn whistle threatened to displace his ear drum. Even now, Lucian still does not know how to get out of the blasted mistake that he had committed during her childhood. The girl had adamantly refused to drink her medicine (in his opinion, the world would be better off if people had left her that way, so she’d die of that contracted pneumonia and Lucian would actually be sane at this period in time), and as a result, his mother had called him in and forced him to promise her that he’d marry her if Angeline would drink the vile drink with the nasty black roots floating around. No wonder the girl wouldn’t drink it, and because of it, delusion made her think that there’d actually be a future involving them two.
“Lucian?” Her sing-song voice called out to him from the other side of the line.
While rolling his eyes, Lucian tried his best not to let the sarcasm seep out of his voice, “What is it, Angeline?”
“Mother asked if you are free next Sunday. She wanted to invite you and your mom and dad over to dinner.”
“Why didn’t you just ask my parents?”
“Well…” She giggled childishly, “I wanted to talk to you. I heard you came back from your ski trip with your friends, how was it?”
Ski trip? Oh, that ski trip. The one where he nearly froze and died. He had been back for two months now, how had she only heard of it just now? Well, he wouldn’t question such miracles that he had gone two months without her. He wouldn’t mind a lifetime, though.
“It was fine.” He answered monotonously, skimming the sentence that he had been reading for the… eighth time. “Is there anything else you need, Angeline?”
She giggled once again before replying, “I love it when you say my name, Lucian.”
Sighing an almost disgusted sigh, Lucian muttered before hanging off and turning his phone off, “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to my book. Good night, Angeline.”
Without another thought, he continued to read his book, finally able to read past the sentence about the dead astronaut in space who faked photos of the moon. Fascinating, indeed. Lucian frowned, finding yet another reason for his father to fund his soon-to-be research on a star that he will soon discover. He had no desire to take over the family business of… equine breeding—or what he called, horse-sitting.
He didn’t even like horses that much.
This seventeen-year-old would rather seat himself behind a telescope all day (or to be more technical, all night, since he would die rather than to brave the dangers of the UV rays on the lenses of his precious baby) than watch a bunch of horses mate, for the lack of better words. He had reasons, anyways, that his mother and father would not accept.
First of all, it was not his fault that genetics had brought him into the world with fair, sensitive skin; he must have been born to be pampered! Second of all, bringing him outside might risk his own life—his sister has yet to let him live down on his childhood memory of being smooched by Angeline out by the horse barn. It was in no way consensual, if only there was a way to convince her. He was not in the wrong to be so… attractive. Other girls at his school often commented on how his blue eyes and blond hair presented a delectable sight to their eyes—of course, he did not do much to react to their compliments, Angeline often drove them away with her bodyguards. Third of all, his build was not suitable for outdoor work. Lucian was the type to… he paused to ponder for the correct word; he was the type who was more fit for intellectual labor rather than physical. He frowned at the thought of lifting a shovel any higher than his knee; that means it would risk the integrity of his clothing. Even at that level, his expensive khaki pants and leather shoes were endangered by the nasty fodder that horses like to think of as food.
Thus, Lucian Beaumont was in no way suitable for outdoor life.
Throwing the heap of mud from the spoon of her shovel towards the small opening in the ground, Meia exhaled deeply. Done with today’s chores, she hoped. There was no telling whether or not her mother would have anymore of those “surprises” for her when she comes inside the house, thus, the reason why she hates living on a farm. She made sure to place the books she had brought home that day to read deep inside the protective darkness of her closet before leaving her room.
Wiping a callused hand across her tan, sweaty cheeks, she was unaware of the dark streak that had formed across her face from the back of her hand coming into contact with the mud until she had placed the shovel against the way. Eyes widened in horror, she touched her face, deftly unaware that it had left a fresh hand print on her cheeks where it accompanied the dark streak until the nightly breeze touched her face in a mocking manner.
“I HATE THESE CHORES!” She grumbled, returning into the house in a hurry to wash the disgusting mud off her face.
“You know, people often slap mud on their faces and call it a facial.” Her sister teased as the young girl brushed past her.
Meia rolled her eyes before splashing the cold dihydrogen monoxide on her face. Hah, dihydrogen monoxide. She learned that in chemistry class almost ten weeks after she learned about it from her books. Why couldn’t she just live in the library instead of going to school? The part time job was not sufficient to quench her thirst of being around the lovely, pulp-filled pages of every single precious letter-full book.
Finally satisfied with the lack of grime on her face, Meia gazed up to find herself reflected in the mirror. She wasn’t half bad-looking; in fact, she couldn’t understand why the guys at school didn’t like her. Her bone structure was consistent of that of her Native American blood: high, proud cheek bones that made beautiful structuring. Even her build, as she has read from the anthropology section, suggested that she should be attractive in the eyes of the opposite gender. Maybe her brown eyes were a bit plain, but if anything, she was certainly better off than her sister—the nineteen-year-old had been unlucky to still be scarred with acne even after she left high school. Meia, on the other hand, has experienced almost her entire high school career without a spot of those blasted red demons popping up on her face.
That being said, why hasn’t any guy hit on her? Of course, Meia interrupted herself in the midst of the thought, she’s not so desperate for such ideas. She would be better off with her books.
“Meia! Daniella! Dinner!” Her mother’s voice cried from the kitchen. The two girls approached the dinner table, but only after they’ve kneeled their usual two minutes in front of the family alter. Although it wasn’t a normal Native American ritual, it was their own family tradition; then again, their family had been anything but a Native American family. Their looks were the only trait connecting them to the culture; otherwise, they were purely of English descent.
Dinner ticked by like hours, and Meia sighed impatiently, shoving another spoonful of her mother’s lovely chicken strips into her mouth. She wanted to read the books that had arrived at the library today. With this amount of food, she thought while glancing at the plate half-filled with chicken strips (once again, courtesy of her mother), it didn’t seem like she would be going anywhere near her room soon.
“Eat, Meia, you need to put on weight for a girl your age. You know what they say about women with wide hips; it’s very beneficial for bearing children.”
“Mom, I’m sixteen. Not even out of high school and nowhere near to having children,” she replied plainly, and then with a gesture at Daniella, Meia continued, “You should be saying that to Daniella. I hear she’s fancying a guy in her bio class—OW!”
The sharp thud under the table did not go unheard by the oldest woman; instead of reprimanding her child, she merely grinned and responded, “Then that means what I said goes for you too. Don’t be afraid to put on a little weight.”
Daniella rolled her eyes at the dismay of being included in the conversation. She didn’t mind being included; she just rather wish it were about something else that was not about children.
“Ma! Don’t listen to Meia. She’s the one who’s locked up in the library all day whenever she gets out of school—“
“It’s a job. Daniella.”
“—and trust me, she doesn’t talk to that many guys. I haven’t heard anything from her friends about any boys going up to her or anything. They seem to be scared of her—“
“You talked to my friends?! Daniella!”
“—and I bet it’s because she’s going around correcting them. No one enjoys being corrected like a fool Meia—“
“I don’t correct them!” The sixteen-year-old responded indignantly.
“Oh yea? Maddie said that you told some guy that he had his testicles and testosterone mixed up.”
“That’s because he did!”
“I can assure you, Meia, that is why they’re not going after you. Anthropologically speaking, males do not appreciate it when females, the opposite gender of their own species that they consider to be weak and something that needs to be defended, dominate them in any way; and yes, that includes intellectually. Basically, those boys don’t like it when you correct them—they don’t like smarter girls.”
“Well I—wait, was that a compliment or an insult?”
Wiping a callused hand across her tan, sweaty cheeks, she was unaware of the dark streak that had formed across her face from the back of her hand coming into contact with the mud until she had placed the shovel against the way. Eyes widened in horror, she touched her face, deftly unaware that it had left a fresh hand print on her cheeks where it accompanied the dark streak until the nightly breeze touched her face in a mocking manner.
“I HATE THESE CHORES!” She grumbled, returning into the house in a hurry to wash the disgusting mud off her face.
“You know, people often slap mud on their faces and call it a facial.” Her sister teased as the young girl brushed past her.
Meia rolled her eyes before splashing the cold dihydrogen monoxide on her face. Hah, dihydrogen monoxide. She learned that in chemistry class almost ten weeks after she learned about it from her books. Why couldn’t she just live in the library instead of going to school? The part time job was not sufficient to quench her thirst of being around the lovely, pulp-filled pages of every single precious letter-full book.
Finally satisfied with the lack of grime on her face, Meia gazed up to find herself reflected in the mirror. She wasn’t half bad-looking; in fact, she couldn’t understand why the guys at school didn’t like her. Her bone structure was consistent of that of her Native American blood: high, proud cheek bones that made beautiful structuring. Even her build, as she has read from the anthropology section, suggested that she should be attractive in the eyes of the opposite gender. Maybe her brown eyes were a bit plain, but if anything, she was certainly better off than her sister—the nineteen-year-old had been unlucky to still be scarred with acne even after she left high school. Meia, on the other hand, has experienced almost her entire high school career without a spot of those blasted red demons popping up on her face.
That being said, why hasn’t any guy hit on her? Of course, Meia interrupted herself in the midst of the thought, she’s not so desperate for such ideas. She would be better off with her books.
“Meia! Daniella! Dinner!” Her mother’s voice cried from the kitchen. The two girls approached the dinner table, but only after they’ve kneeled their usual two minutes in front of the family alter. Although it wasn’t a normal Native American ritual, it was their own family tradition; then again, their family had been anything but a Native American family. Their looks were the only trait connecting them to the culture; otherwise, they were purely of English descent.
Dinner ticked by like hours, and Meia sighed impatiently, shoving another spoonful of her mother’s lovely chicken strips into her mouth. She wanted to read the books that had arrived at the library today. With this amount of food, she thought while glancing at the plate half-filled with chicken strips (once again, courtesy of her mother), it didn’t seem like she would be going anywhere near her room soon.
“Eat, Meia, you need to put on weight for a girl your age. You know what they say about women with wide hips; it’s very beneficial for bearing children.”
“Mom, I’m sixteen. Not even out of high school and nowhere near to having children,” she replied plainly, and then with a gesture at Daniella, Meia continued, “You should be saying that to Daniella. I hear she’s fancying a guy in her bio class—OW!”
The sharp thud under the table did not go unheard by the oldest woman; instead of reprimanding her child, she merely grinned and responded, “Then that means what I said goes for you too. Don’t be afraid to put on a little weight.”
Daniella rolled her eyes at the dismay of being included in the conversation. She didn’t mind being included; she just rather wish it were about something else that was not about children.
“Ma! Don’t listen to Meia. She’s the one who’s locked up in the library all day whenever she gets out of school—“
“It’s a job. Daniella.”
“—and trust me, she doesn’t talk to that many guys. I haven’t heard anything from her friends about any boys going up to her or anything. They seem to be scared of her—“
“You talked to my friends?! Daniella!”
“—and I bet it’s because she’s going around correcting them. No one enjoys being corrected like a fool Meia—“
“I don’t correct them!” The sixteen-year-old responded indignantly.
“Oh yea? Maddie said that you told some guy that he had his testicles and testosterone mixed up.”
“That’s because he did!”
“I can assure you, Meia, that is why they’re not going after you. Anthropologically speaking, males do not appreciate it when females, the opposite gender of their own species that they consider to be weak and something that needs to be defended, dominate them in any way; and yes, that includes intellectually. Basically, those boys don’t like it when you correct them—they don’t like smarter girls.”
“Well I—wait, was that a compliment or an insult?”
Three weeks. He should have that damn encyclopedia (Meia gasped at the vulgarity at her thoughts towards such a precious treasure) on her table to be checked in by this afternoon, and so far, she has not heard a single of his so-called stealthy footsteps. She dared him not to come. Meia would still be able to find him if he decided not to show up. She made sure to be cautious and kept records of everyone who ever stepped into the library—at one point she had gone through the trouble to do a background check for a certain individual who decided to check out five books. Luckily for that person, he came back with all five books in acceptable condition.
Four o’clock. And he’s still not here. That stranger. She should have known better. Meia should have brought out an excuse to not let him borrow her books—it had been simply too painful to loan out a book to a stranger. It doesn’t matter. She would find him. Tomorrow is a school day. All she has to do is stop by his school and check out the whereabouts of her book and acquire it—if such plans go otherwise… Meia could not fathom to think of the fate of this… book-borrower.
Four o’clock. And he’s still not here. That stranger. She should have known better. Meia should have brought out an excuse to not let him borrow her books—it had been simply too painful to loan out a book to a stranger. It doesn’t matter. She would find him. Tomorrow is a school day. All she has to do is stop by his school and check out the whereabouts of her book and acquire it—if such plans go otherwise… Meia could not fathom to think of the fate of this… book-borrower.
Chapter Two: Stalker
“Look, girly, you can be Beastelle, and I’ll be Beau.”
Oxford High, the invisible campus, they called it, reserved for rich kids of many prestigious families that has slipped into the shadows of history where their dark workings would not be in the eyes of the public. It was built for another reason as well: protection. If one can afford to kill, one must be able to afford not to be killed as revenge.
The one she wanted is Lucian Beaumont. Age sixteen. Approximately two meters tall. Sandy blond hair and cerulean blue eyes. She has him down to the last detail. This book thief won’t be able to get away with taking her books like this. She will NEVER let him borrow books again—even better, she will NEVER let him set foot into the library.
Meia leaned against the gates of the school, staring unabashedly at the camera that had shamelessly challenged her to a staring contest. She didn’t back down but instead, glared at the camera until the slight flicker of its lens signaled the recording of her image.
“Hah. You blinked. I win.” She smirked, watching it suddenly turn in the opposite direction. The iron gates opened slowly with the sound of a low hum. Out came a black limo, crushing the gravel on the campus grounds. As it exited the campus, Meia saw, the glimpse of the blond hair and absentmindedly blue eyes through the dark-filmed glass. There was no mistaking it; that was the guy who didn’t return her books!
Perhaps it was out of the desire of returning the book to its rightful place or that Meia had been truly fit and a sprinting genius. She had sprinted for a full ten minutes before she had actually caught up to the driver’s window and slammed the side of her fist against it, demanding for his stop. Instead, he sped up, making her trail behind by several feet. Much of Meia’s luck, there was a stoplight. Meia panted heavily as she marched up to the door that the stranger would be seated at. He stared at her strangely as he watched her jerk the car door open.
Without any warning, the sixteen-year-old wrenched the male by his collar and pulled him towards her as she whispered dangerously, “Where is my book?”
“…book?”
“Yes, my book. Beaumont. Where the hell is my book? I’m sure you’ve looked at the policy written on your library card. It’s not in fine print. It’s in bold letters: PLEASE return books within three weeks of borrowing them OR consequences will be dire. Did you not read that?”
Lucian, noticing the strain that was forming in his expensive, cotton shirt from her grip, responded without being able to keep the fear out of his voice, “A-Ah, yes, that book. I meant t-to return it yesterday, but I-I had something to do.”
“Something to do?”
For a quick second, Lucian could have sworn he saw something in the girl’s eyes snap, but it seemed that she realized that they were in a public place—nonetheless, a place full of prestigious children of many dubious backgrounds. If anything happened to him, she’s done for.
“Excuse me,” Angeline’s voice broke into their conversation, and for the first time ever, Lucian was glad to see her face, “Mind I ask you what you are doing?”
“Yes, I do.” Meia replied and didn’t even bother taking her eyes off of Lucian’s terribly frightened expression. “We’re talking.”
“Would you please take your hands off of my boyfriend?” Angeline demanded ever-so-politely, folding her arms, “That shirt is very expensive. I don’t think…” She paused to scan Meia from head to toe, “I don’t think you’ll be able to afford replacing it.”
“Damn straight I won’t. I just want my book back.”
Angeline gasped, covering her mouth as though the two statements have offended her, killed her family, and cursed her entire generation. “Your book? Why, my Lucian would never EVER take other people’s things.”
“An-Angeline? I just borrowed it—“
“You have no right to talk, Beaumont. Now where the hell is my book?”
The next thing Angeline did surprised them both; the girl fell to the ground, covered her ears and cried, “STOP YOUR DISGUSTING CURSING!”
“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!” Meia screamed back in an equally loud voice.
Lucian glanced around, almost forgetting that Meia still had him virtually lifted into the air by his shirt collar (which, by the way, was attached to a very expensive shirt and was stretching very dangerously), to see a crowd forming around them, murmuring very audible things. Even with his efforts to pry her hand off his shirt, the girl did not budge. “Excuse me, miss, could you please unhand me?”
“No, not until you tell me where my book is.”
“STOP YELLING AT HIM!” Angeline’s voice re-entered the conversation again in an attempt to p lace herself between them.
With a light push, the evil poor girl knocked her at least three feet away, yelling at a volume almost adequate to make him deaf: “I'M NOT YELLING!”
By then, Meia was beyond pissed. She did not feel the need to argue with people for her precious belongings, especially if they’re rich. Even if she did feel the desire to, she paused to look at the blond in front of her, this guy did not seem to be the logical reason for her to do jail time, especially if that mean there would be another person in her place at the library.
Lucian eyed her cautiously, and of course, his own shirt. He made sure not to move so that his expensive cotton would not rip (the poor boy sank into dismay when he arrived home to find that one stitch of his shirt had been undone) or have her choke the living snots out of him. Even then… remembering that they were presently on the grounds of the rich and prestigious, he had many witnesses here to see this poor girl harassing him. He would make sure that they’d testify against her so that she would—No, it wouldn’t work. The poor girl would go harass them and threaten them to do the opposite of what he wants. His family knew a crowd who knew another crowd, maybe they would take care of her. The girl raised her eyebrow at him when she saw him nod in a triumph manner, as if he had something up his sleeves.
“You should really unhand me. I don’t think you could handle the consequences if something were to happen to you and your family over a mere book.”
No doubt the girl must be trembling in fear on the inside, thus, she released him. With a small mumble jumble of the words, “Return it by tomorrow,” she sprinted off down the street.
“…Master,” his chauffeur called out to him, “Are you alright?”
“Why would you bother asking me that now? The girl is gone.”
“Well, I didn’t to threaten your safety.”
“Threaten my safety?” More like threaten your own safety. We both know about the amount of books she could carry in her bag that would make her all the more dangerous. “Very well, Leo. We should start to get home now if we don’t want to chance mother’s lecture.”
Oxford High, the invisible campus, they called it, reserved for rich kids of many prestigious families that has slipped into the shadows of history where their dark workings would not be in the eyes of the public. It was built for another reason as well: protection. If one can afford to kill, one must be able to afford not to be killed as revenge.
The one she wanted is Lucian Beaumont. Age sixteen. Approximately two meters tall. Sandy blond hair and cerulean blue eyes. She has him down to the last detail. This book thief won’t be able to get away with taking her books like this. She will NEVER let him borrow books again—even better, she will NEVER let him set foot into the library.
Meia leaned against the gates of the school, staring unabashedly at the camera that had shamelessly challenged her to a staring contest. She didn’t back down but instead, glared at the camera until the slight flicker of its lens signaled the recording of her image.
“Hah. You blinked. I win.” She smirked, watching it suddenly turn in the opposite direction. The iron gates opened slowly with the sound of a low hum. Out came a black limo, crushing the gravel on the campus grounds. As it exited the campus, Meia saw, the glimpse of the blond hair and absentmindedly blue eyes through the dark-filmed glass. There was no mistaking it; that was the guy who didn’t return her books!
Perhaps it was out of the desire of returning the book to its rightful place or that Meia had been truly fit and a sprinting genius. She had sprinted for a full ten minutes before she had actually caught up to the driver’s window and slammed the side of her fist against it, demanding for his stop. Instead, he sped up, making her trail behind by several feet. Much of Meia’s luck, there was a stoplight. Meia panted heavily as she marched up to the door that the stranger would be seated at. He stared at her strangely as he watched her jerk the car door open.
Without any warning, the sixteen-year-old wrenched the male by his collar and pulled him towards her as she whispered dangerously, “Where is my book?”
“…book?”
“Yes, my book. Beaumont. Where the hell is my book? I’m sure you’ve looked at the policy written on your library card. It’s not in fine print. It’s in bold letters: PLEASE return books within three weeks of borrowing them OR consequences will be dire. Did you not read that?”
Lucian, noticing the strain that was forming in his expensive, cotton shirt from her grip, responded without being able to keep the fear out of his voice, “A-Ah, yes, that book. I meant t-to return it yesterday, but I-I had something to do.”
“Something to do?”
For a quick second, Lucian could have sworn he saw something in the girl’s eyes snap, but it seemed that she realized that they were in a public place—nonetheless, a place full of prestigious children of many dubious backgrounds. If anything happened to him, she’s done for.
“Excuse me,” Angeline’s voice broke into their conversation, and for the first time ever, Lucian was glad to see her face, “Mind I ask you what you are doing?”
“Yes, I do.” Meia replied and didn’t even bother taking her eyes off of Lucian’s terribly frightened expression. “We’re talking.”
“Would you please take your hands off of my boyfriend?” Angeline demanded ever-so-politely, folding her arms, “That shirt is very expensive. I don’t think…” She paused to scan Meia from head to toe, “I don’t think you’ll be able to afford replacing it.”
“Damn straight I won’t. I just want my book back.”
Angeline gasped, covering her mouth as though the two statements have offended her, killed her family, and cursed her entire generation. “Your book? Why, my Lucian would never EVER take other people’s things.”
“An-Angeline? I just borrowed it—“
“You have no right to talk, Beaumont. Now where the hell is my book?”
The next thing Angeline did surprised them both; the girl fell to the ground, covered her ears and cried, “STOP YOUR DISGUSTING CURSING!”
“MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!” Meia screamed back in an equally loud voice.
Lucian glanced around, almost forgetting that Meia still had him virtually lifted into the air by his shirt collar (which, by the way, was attached to a very expensive shirt and was stretching very dangerously), to see a crowd forming around them, murmuring very audible things. Even with his efforts to pry her hand off his shirt, the girl did not budge. “Excuse me, miss, could you please unhand me?”
“No, not until you tell me where my book is.”
“STOP YELLING AT HIM!” Angeline’s voice re-entered the conversation again in an attempt to p lace herself between them.
With a light push, the evil poor girl knocked her at least three feet away, yelling at a volume almost adequate to make him deaf: “I'M NOT YELLING!”
By then, Meia was beyond pissed. She did not feel the need to argue with people for her precious belongings, especially if they’re rich. Even if she did feel the desire to, she paused to look at the blond in front of her, this guy did not seem to be the logical reason for her to do jail time, especially if that mean there would be another person in her place at the library.
Lucian eyed her cautiously, and of course, his own shirt. He made sure not to move so that his expensive cotton would not rip (the poor boy sank into dismay when he arrived home to find that one stitch of his shirt had been undone) or have her choke the living snots out of him. Even then… remembering that they were presently on the grounds of the rich and prestigious, he had many witnesses here to see this poor girl harassing him. He would make sure that they’d testify against her so that she would—No, it wouldn’t work. The poor girl would go harass them and threaten them to do the opposite of what he wants. His family knew a crowd who knew another crowd, maybe they would take care of her. The girl raised her eyebrow at him when she saw him nod in a triumph manner, as if he had something up his sleeves.
“You should really unhand me. I don’t think you could handle the consequences if something were to happen to you and your family over a mere book.”
No doubt the girl must be trembling in fear on the inside, thus, she released him. With a small mumble jumble of the words, “Return it by tomorrow,” she sprinted off down the street.
“…Master,” his chauffeur called out to him, “Are you alright?”
“Why would you bother asking me that now? The girl is gone.”
“Well, I didn’t to threaten your safety.”
“Threaten my safety?” More like threaten your own safety. We both know about the amount of books she could carry in her bag that would make her all the more dangerous. “Very well, Leo. We should start to get home now if we don’t want to chance mother’s lecture.”
Despite the appearance of her fleeting glance, Meia was scrutinizing his every step. Lucian had finally appeared… TWO DAYS after she had threatened him and then politely asked him to return her book. She was quite ready to bulldoze his school down. If she hadn’t remembered the book she had read about cordiality and ‘treating others the way one wants to be personally treated,’ she would have ripped the collar off of his shirt in threatening him to return her beloved.
As far as she could tell, Meia does not like the superior look floating upon the blond’s face. It seemed like he thought he ruled the world or something.
“Are you going to return the book?” She grinded the question from her clenched teeth—trying her best not to slap a threat across his face once more.
“Yes ma’am, I must apologize for being a day late. I was quite engrossed in it on the way here to the library that I forgot to return the book.”
My ass. On the way to the library. If he had gotten to the library, she would have seen him when she was closing up. “Really. Well. Thank you for returning the book. I do hope that you stick to the policy the next time you check out a book.”
“Actually, Ms… what is your name?”
With slight hesitance to answer, Meia calculated the impact of her respond, “Meia.”
“Meia. Well, anyway, I was hoping to renew my borrowing of this book.”
“…I see…” Casting a suspicious glance his way, the girl glanced down at the book to do a cursory check for any damages that may have been inflicted upon the precious object. “Alright.”
In an attempt to flick through the book, she scanned it slowly, flipping through the pages slowly.
“You know, I took care of that book, knowing that you would be on my tail if I did otherwise,” He commented in the midst of her checking, “However, if it pleases you to thoroughly examine this book, go right ahead. I do hope that it is back in my hands again within the course of ten minutes. Meanwhile, I will be looking at other books.”
Meia raised an eyebrow at the eloquence of his speech and responded almost mockingly, “Well, if it pleases you to do such things, then go right ahead.”
When Lucian returned ten minutes later, he spotted her reading. The girl seemed so engrossed with the… Quantum Theory Textbook? He was befuddled—heck, he wasn’t even certain if that was the right word to describe her. Surely he had never judged her from their second meeting (that seemed more like the first impression than their first meeting), but he didn’t think she was the science type. Peering at him in a suspicious manner from the corner of her eyes, she asked, “You done?”
“I should be asking whether or not you are done with the inspection of this encyclopedia. I take it you are pleased with its present conditions?”
“It's acceptable.” Without a word, the book flew to his face, stopping centimeters (perhaps with negligible uncertainty) before his aristocratic nose. “If you bring it late again, you'll regret meeting me.”
“Is that a threat?” Lucian had been contemplating on whether or not he should challenge her bold words while he was studying the texts in the room.
“Oh yea? What constitutes a threat?” Meia lifted an eyebrow, daring him to speak another word against her favor.
“Something that stirs feelings of insecurity and anxiety inside an individual.” Lucian surrendered. Completely. Under the scrutinizing stare of a girl barely a quarter of a feet shorter than him, he threw the white flag willingly, swiftly and ran away with his tail tuck between his legs.
“That's right. Webster over Britannica, any day.” She smirked, acknowledging the power she now has over him, “I'll see you Tuesday after next.”
As far as she could tell, Meia does not like the superior look floating upon the blond’s face. It seemed like he thought he ruled the world or something.
“Are you going to return the book?” She grinded the question from her clenched teeth—trying her best not to slap a threat across his face once more.
“Yes ma’am, I must apologize for being a day late. I was quite engrossed in it on the way here to the library that I forgot to return the book.”
My ass. On the way to the library. If he had gotten to the library, she would have seen him when she was closing up. “Really. Well. Thank you for returning the book. I do hope that you stick to the policy the next time you check out a book.”
“Actually, Ms… what is your name?”
With slight hesitance to answer, Meia calculated the impact of her respond, “Meia.”
“Meia. Well, anyway, I was hoping to renew my borrowing of this book.”
“…I see…” Casting a suspicious glance his way, the girl glanced down at the book to do a cursory check for any damages that may have been inflicted upon the precious object. “Alright.”
In an attempt to flick through the book, she scanned it slowly, flipping through the pages slowly.
“You know, I took care of that book, knowing that you would be on my tail if I did otherwise,” He commented in the midst of her checking, “However, if it pleases you to thoroughly examine this book, go right ahead. I do hope that it is back in my hands again within the course of ten minutes. Meanwhile, I will be looking at other books.”
Meia raised an eyebrow at the eloquence of his speech and responded almost mockingly, “Well, if it pleases you to do such things, then go right ahead.”
When Lucian returned ten minutes later, he spotted her reading. The girl seemed so engrossed with the… Quantum Theory Textbook? He was befuddled—heck, he wasn’t even certain if that was the right word to describe her. Surely he had never judged her from their second meeting (that seemed more like the first impression than their first meeting), but he didn’t think she was the science type. Peering at him in a suspicious manner from the corner of her eyes, she asked, “You done?”
“I should be asking whether or not you are done with the inspection of this encyclopedia. I take it you are pleased with its present conditions?”
“It's acceptable.” Without a word, the book flew to his face, stopping centimeters (perhaps with negligible uncertainty) before his aristocratic nose. “If you bring it late again, you'll regret meeting me.”
“Is that a threat?” Lucian had been contemplating on whether or not he should challenge her bold words while he was studying the texts in the room.
“Oh yea? What constitutes a threat?” Meia lifted an eyebrow, daring him to speak another word against her favor.
“Something that stirs feelings of insecurity and anxiety inside an individual.” Lucian surrendered. Completely. Under the scrutinizing stare of a girl barely a quarter of a feet shorter than him, he threw the white flag willingly, swiftly and ran away with his tail tuck between his legs.
“That's right. Webster over Britannica, any day.” She smirked, acknowledging the power she now has over him, “I'll see you Tuesday after next.”
There was no denying it. Meia was kind of obsessed with other things besides books. Or rather, with a boy. One couldn't really consider him the school heartthrob; after all, he had infinitely more brain than Bryan Stanley. One couldn't really say that he was the smartest kid in town either, since his rank is second to Meia's first (not to mention he is not even in the same class). One definitely couldn't say that he was the all around nice guy either, seeing as his range of communication within the educational campus consisted only of the school faculty.
What makes Meia obsessed with this guy? Well, for starters, he's at the library all day. Whenever she was planted comfortably upon her librarian stool, she could gaze at him from behind her book (thankfully due to peripheral vision) and watch him from across the room. She wouldn't deny it either. She knows his house address from going to the extremes to check out a book to him for which he expressed mild desires in the middle of the night. She calls his house phone and cell phone to remind him that a book will be due a week before its designated time. Heck, she even found out his identification passwords to all of his school accounts by exploiting her privilege as a school library aid.
Needless to say, there seemed to be no apparent sign that he disapproved of her actions. Instead, after a awkward show of gratification, he would smile at her and they would engage in a short conversation, much to Meia's pleasure.
Meia signed, pleased with her current position. From where she was sitting, she could fawn over the fluttering of his eyelashes, whenever he blinked and the movement of his hand muscles whenever he turned the pages, seemingly oblivious of his surroundings while he concentrated on atomic bonding, supposedly the hardest lesson in his tenth grade chemistry textbook. Unfortunate as it may be, she did not mind his being a year younger than her; in fact, it would make it much easier for her to communicate with him, having prior experiences to the classes he is currently attending.
At this time, if Meia had a best friend, her best friend would slap her face and tell her that she had been blatantly ogling Reid Garwin in the face for half an hour, no textbook. However, throughout her life, (or rather, from when she began reading books), Meia lacked a best friend, whether it be one of mirroring or opposite gender. Although she found some comfort in occasional chats with a few of her classmates, she never spared anyone her bluntness. She preferred giving small hurting blows rather than a giant one at the end when people are least expecting it.
“Meia? Anyone home?” Reid's teasing voice greeted her.
To Meia, the guy was still sitting there reading his chemistry book although his voice flew right by her ear. When she came to, she was suddenly immensely thankful of her Native American genes, for it made her honey-colored face all the more challenging to guess whether or not it was red.
“Y-yes?”
“Do you have any books on atomic bonding? I checked a while ago, and I couldn't find any. So I wanted to make sure and ask you about it before I go to another library.”
Of course they didn't have books for chemistry. What is he thinking? This is a high school library, for goodness's sake. Suddenly, she had an idea. The memory of demanding the owner of the library that she worked at to buy chemistry-related books returned to her.
“Well... we don't have any here, but I definitely know a library where there would be those books, and if anything, I'll help you out with that. I took the class last year,” Meia smiled.
“Alright, where is it?”
“It's just down the street from here. It's a quaint little building, but you can't miss it. It's at the corner of the street.”
Reid nodded, appearing to contemplate his current position on the idea. “Well, I'll think about it, thanks.”
Meia smiled contently at his retreating figure. It must be her lucky day.
What makes Meia obsessed with this guy? Well, for starters, he's at the library all day. Whenever she was planted comfortably upon her librarian stool, she could gaze at him from behind her book (thankfully due to peripheral vision) and watch him from across the room. She wouldn't deny it either. She knows his house address from going to the extremes to check out a book to him for which he expressed mild desires in the middle of the night. She calls his house phone and cell phone to remind him that a book will be due a week before its designated time. Heck, she even found out his identification passwords to all of his school accounts by exploiting her privilege as a school library aid.
Needless to say, there seemed to be no apparent sign that he disapproved of her actions. Instead, after a awkward show of gratification, he would smile at her and they would engage in a short conversation, much to Meia's pleasure.
Meia signed, pleased with her current position. From where she was sitting, she could fawn over the fluttering of his eyelashes, whenever he blinked and the movement of his hand muscles whenever he turned the pages, seemingly oblivious of his surroundings while he concentrated on atomic bonding, supposedly the hardest lesson in his tenth grade chemistry textbook. Unfortunate as it may be, she did not mind his being a year younger than her; in fact, it would make it much easier for her to communicate with him, having prior experiences to the classes he is currently attending.
At this time, if Meia had a best friend, her best friend would slap her face and tell her that she had been blatantly ogling Reid Garwin in the face for half an hour, no textbook. However, throughout her life, (or rather, from when she began reading books), Meia lacked a best friend, whether it be one of mirroring or opposite gender. Although she found some comfort in occasional chats with a few of her classmates, she never spared anyone her bluntness. She preferred giving small hurting blows rather than a giant one at the end when people are least expecting it.
“Meia? Anyone home?” Reid's teasing voice greeted her.
To Meia, the guy was still sitting there reading his chemistry book although his voice flew right by her ear. When she came to, she was suddenly immensely thankful of her Native American genes, for it made her honey-colored face all the more challenging to guess whether or not it was red.
“Y-yes?”
“Do you have any books on atomic bonding? I checked a while ago, and I couldn't find any. So I wanted to make sure and ask you about it before I go to another library.”
Of course they didn't have books for chemistry. What is he thinking? This is a high school library, for goodness's sake. Suddenly, she had an idea. The memory of demanding the owner of the library that she worked at to buy chemistry-related books returned to her.
“Well... we don't have any here, but I definitely know a library where there would be those books, and if anything, I'll help you out with that. I took the class last year,” Meia smiled.
“Alright, where is it?”
“It's just down the street from here. It's a quaint little building, but you can't miss it. It's at the corner of the street.”
Reid nodded, appearing to contemplate his current position on the idea. “Well, I'll think about it, thanks.”
Meia smiled contently at his retreating figure. It must be her lucky day.
Chapter Three: Storybook Beginning
Once upon a time, a prince blackmailed his princess for her hand in marriage...
Lucian was ready today. He had encased the book in a suitcase as the last effort to keep it safe. In any case, he always appeared to have the worst luck prior to returning a borrowed item to its owner. Poor Jimmy was an arm's length away from his perfectly groomed dog before the mailman ran it over on that hot summer day. The poor chap never let it go.
However, today, he won't take his chances with this book. It would be like taking chances with his own life. If that thing catches a single nip off a corner, he might as well kill himself. Better a quick suicide—he heard that shooting oneself in the head is actually slower than everyone thought—than a slow death in god-knows-whatever-lies-behind those bookshelves of hers. He could have sworn, first coming into her library that there could not possibly be that much space between a couple of bookshelves and a wall. There wasn't even a room with a door in between them!
“Meia, dear! I'm here!” Lucian brought out his grand entrance, hoping this would be the last time he'd have to do something like this. There must be a way to retain some of the dignity that she had taken from him that afternoon. Much to his dismay, he was not the only one in the library. Another soul was there; more specifically, a masculine soul. Did Lucian felt threatened? Oh yes he did. Knowing that there was a masculine soul in his presence while someone of the opposite gender was in the same room made him want to--
“What do you want?” Meia grunted at him from her little corner behind the librarian counter.
“Why, I'm here to return my book.”
“Gimme.”
And he obeyed, tucking the suitcase onto the table where he opened the encyclopedia that he would never again touch. With a quick scan under her magic wand of a scanner, she waved him off, offering a soft threat to him before saying: “Looks like you kept your promise, Beaumont. As a consequence, I'll allow you another check out should you ever decide to come back.”
“Oh, no, it's quite alright. This will be my last visit to such a hell of a place.”
“Good. See ya.” She waved at him. As though he had already left, Meia appeared to return to what she had been doing before he arrived: the observation of... a boy? “What are you still doing here? You think I don't have peripheral vision?”
“Oh, I know you do. Your direction of sight is what piqued my interest. So who is the young fellow brave enough to sit down in your house?” He smirked. This seemed all too good to be true. Lucian Beaumont might actually have an advantage over Meia... what's her last name again?
“This environment is obviously not a house. If you examine the furniture, there is no bed to be found nor is there a kitchen. This is a library, hence the bookshelves and books.” She glared at him. “Now that I've enlightened you, go home.”
Meia wanted to strangle the blond kid who was yapping his mouth away. Not only was he blocking her line of sight to Reid, he was taking away her time for staring at Reid! She has the opportunity to do said desire though, he seemed to pay no attention to the cracking of her knuckles. Heck, as he babbled, it seemed he wouldn't have noticed if she took out a knife and--
“Meia, dear, focus when I'm asking you a question.”
“What's with all this 'dear' stuff? Are you gay or something?”
“No. I was trying to be polite. At least tell me who he is.”
“Why should I tell you? What makes you think I know who he is?”
“Don't you do background checks on everyone who comes to your library?”
For the first time in ever, Meia was almost lost for an answer. As a result, she came back with a much more vicious comeback than she would have had had she not been able to think of a retort. “Only on the suspicious-looking ones.”
“You think I'm suspicious? Look at this guy, he has a piercing on his ear.”
“Beaumont, if you don't stop annoying me, your ass is mine.”
The threat was just enough. Those last four words were enough to make Lucian tuck his tail between his legs once again, only this time, enough to make him scurry away cowardly. He mumbled an awkward farewell before leaving the library to Meia and the mysterious character that she seems infatuated with.
He'll find out if it's the last thing he do before she takes him down. Lucian Beaumont always gets what he wants.
Lucian was ready today. He had encased the book in a suitcase as the last effort to keep it safe. In any case, he always appeared to have the worst luck prior to returning a borrowed item to its owner. Poor Jimmy was an arm's length away from his perfectly groomed dog before the mailman ran it over on that hot summer day. The poor chap never let it go.
However, today, he won't take his chances with this book. It would be like taking chances with his own life. If that thing catches a single nip off a corner, he might as well kill himself. Better a quick suicide—he heard that shooting oneself in the head is actually slower than everyone thought—than a slow death in god-knows-whatever-lies-behind those bookshelves of hers. He could have sworn, first coming into her library that there could not possibly be that much space between a couple of bookshelves and a wall. There wasn't even a room with a door in between them!
“Meia, dear! I'm here!” Lucian brought out his grand entrance, hoping this would be the last time he'd have to do something like this. There must be a way to retain some of the dignity that she had taken from him that afternoon. Much to his dismay, he was not the only one in the library. Another soul was there; more specifically, a masculine soul. Did Lucian felt threatened? Oh yes he did. Knowing that there was a masculine soul in his presence while someone of the opposite gender was in the same room made him want to--
“What do you want?” Meia grunted at him from her little corner behind the librarian counter.
“Why, I'm here to return my book.”
“Gimme.”
And he obeyed, tucking the suitcase onto the table where he opened the encyclopedia that he would never again touch. With a quick scan under her magic wand of a scanner, she waved him off, offering a soft threat to him before saying: “Looks like you kept your promise, Beaumont. As a consequence, I'll allow you another check out should you ever decide to come back.”
“Oh, no, it's quite alright. This will be my last visit to such a hell of a place.”
“Good. See ya.” She waved at him. As though he had already left, Meia appeared to return to what she had been doing before he arrived: the observation of... a boy? “What are you still doing here? You think I don't have peripheral vision?”
“Oh, I know you do. Your direction of sight is what piqued my interest. So who is the young fellow brave enough to sit down in your house?” He smirked. This seemed all too good to be true. Lucian Beaumont might actually have an advantage over Meia... what's her last name again?
“This environment is obviously not a house. If you examine the furniture, there is no bed to be found nor is there a kitchen. This is a library, hence the bookshelves and books.” She glared at him. “Now that I've enlightened you, go home.”
Meia wanted to strangle the blond kid who was yapping his mouth away. Not only was he blocking her line of sight to Reid, he was taking away her time for staring at Reid! She has the opportunity to do said desire though, he seemed to pay no attention to the cracking of her knuckles. Heck, as he babbled, it seemed he wouldn't have noticed if she took out a knife and--
“Meia, dear, focus when I'm asking you a question.”
“What's with all this 'dear' stuff? Are you gay or something?”
“No. I was trying to be polite. At least tell me who he is.”
“Why should I tell you? What makes you think I know who he is?”
“Don't you do background checks on everyone who comes to your library?”
For the first time in ever, Meia was almost lost for an answer. As a result, she came back with a much more vicious comeback than she would have had had she not been able to think of a retort. “Only on the suspicious-looking ones.”
“You think I'm suspicious? Look at this guy, he has a piercing on his ear.”
“Beaumont, if you don't stop annoying me, your ass is mine.”
The threat was just enough. Those last four words were enough to make Lucian tuck his tail between his legs once again, only this time, enough to make him scurry away cowardly. He mumbled an awkward farewell before leaving the library to Meia and the mysterious character that she seems infatuated with.
He'll find out if it's the last thing he do before she takes him down. Lucian Beaumont always gets what he wants.
Where in God's name is he? What could he be possibly be doing this late in the day? Dinner is almost ready and Lucian has yet to arrive home. Angeline's worry began to take over. One might think that in such situation, a female shows her true affection for the guy or her maternal self. However, one does not know Angeline.
The last time she was worried about her dog's stomach ache, it died. It would appear that Lucian is already aware of this fact by now since he had been the major object of her worrisome inflictions. Most often, when she was worried about him, she'd call to check up on him. Most of the time, that was the cause of his getting into trouble. Once when she had asked of him for a favor to check up on her boyfriend, Lucian had politely refused. After a few fits and sweet talk, she was able to get him to follow her boyfriend. When she thought that the guy may have found Lucian, she called him to check up on him. As a result, Lucian was beaten up when the cell phone gave him away.
“Mother, father, I think I'm going to call him.”
That she did. If only she had waited a second longer when Lucian was out of the door at the library. If only she did, he would have at least been spared of the lecture that had poured out of Meia's mouth.
From the split second that Lucian had turned on the phone to see who called, Angeline could hear that annoying girl's voice. Suddenly, an idea appeared in her mind. An idea that originated from a certain fairytale, her favorite fairytale, at least. She knew... she knew that she had to go rescue him. Her future husband, it was her duty.
Riding in a shiny black limo, Angeline made her grand entrance, announcing her arrival with a megaphone. If only she knew that Lucian had long left the library after Meia decided not to waste her time yelling at the guy she hates so she could go on staring at the guy she likes. If only she could see through the black film that covered the glass; of course, that could be both interpreted as a fortune and a misfortune, because if she saw the glare on Meia's face, she would have died. However, one does not know how well Angeline makes herself oblivious to these things. Despite that, her money and status in society has always gotten her along fine, except this time, of course.
“Lucian! Where are you, dear!? I'm here to save you!” She shouted into the megaphone, quickly wincing at its screechy gasp. “Ugh! What is wrong with this thing!?”
Meia emerged from the sliding doors, responding in an almost equally loud battle cry of her own: “Do you want to get your ass kicked? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Where is my Lucian?!” Angeline shouted into the megaphone once more, jumping slightly when Meia grabbed it from her and dumped it onto the ground.
“Not here! What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“Not here?! You vulgar little girl! What have you done with my Lucian?!”
“Vulgar girl? Oh, you're not very smart, are you?”
Meia rolled her eyes, wondering once more what she could have possibly done to deserve a fate such as one that is associated to the two people who've made her life a living hell for the past few weeks. Oh wait, she knows: it's that blond loser rich kid who thinks he can do whatever he wants. When the only person she actually wanted in her library exited from the doors with books in his hands (his textbooks, that is. It would be inexcusable to her, even if it was Reid), she kicked herself mentally.
“Reid! Where are you going?” She asked, hoping the anxiety in her voice would cause him to stay to watch over her.
“Meia, what's going on out here?”
“Nothing! There's--”
“Where's my Lucian? That's not Lucian!” Angeline glared at Reid, who in turns gave her an equally confused look.
“Who is she?”
“No one you need to know. Now you,” she turned to Angeline, “Go home. Your boyfriend is not here.”
“Then I demand to know where he is, you vulgar girl!”
A surprised look appeared on Reid's face at the comment, and he responded: “That's not very polite.”
Meia nodded, turning around so that Reid could not see her face, she got up closer to Angeline and whispered into the girl's ear with her threat: “Look you, I told you your rich boy's not here. If you don't leave, I will be more than vulgar and you're not going to leave without a scratch on that pretty little dress of yours.”
Angeline gasped, appalled at the two people who've issued impolite statements to her. Turning around with her aristocratic nose up in the ear, she returned to the safety of her shiny black limousine and replied, “Looks like you can't get me now, can you?”
Without another word, she rode off.
For Angeline, this is yet another failure she will encounter in her attempts to rescue her prince.
The last time she was worried about her dog's stomach ache, it died. It would appear that Lucian is already aware of this fact by now since he had been the major object of her worrisome inflictions. Most often, when she was worried about him, she'd call to check up on him. Most of the time, that was the cause of his getting into trouble. Once when she had asked of him for a favor to check up on her boyfriend, Lucian had politely refused. After a few fits and sweet talk, she was able to get him to follow her boyfriend. When she thought that the guy may have found Lucian, she called him to check up on him. As a result, Lucian was beaten up when the cell phone gave him away.
“Mother, father, I think I'm going to call him.”
That she did. If only she had waited a second longer when Lucian was out of the door at the library. If only she did, he would have at least been spared of the lecture that had poured out of Meia's mouth.
From the split second that Lucian had turned on the phone to see who called, Angeline could hear that annoying girl's voice. Suddenly, an idea appeared in her mind. An idea that originated from a certain fairytale, her favorite fairytale, at least. She knew... she knew that she had to go rescue him. Her future husband, it was her duty.
Riding in a shiny black limo, Angeline made her grand entrance, announcing her arrival with a megaphone. If only she knew that Lucian had long left the library after Meia decided not to waste her time yelling at the guy she hates so she could go on staring at the guy she likes. If only she could see through the black film that covered the glass; of course, that could be both interpreted as a fortune and a misfortune, because if she saw the glare on Meia's face, she would have died. However, one does not know how well Angeline makes herself oblivious to these things. Despite that, her money and status in society has always gotten her along fine, except this time, of course.
“Lucian! Where are you, dear!? I'm here to save you!” She shouted into the megaphone, quickly wincing at its screechy gasp. “Ugh! What is wrong with this thing!?”
Meia emerged from the sliding doors, responding in an almost equally loud battle cry of her own: “Do you want to get your ass kicked? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Where is my Lucian?!” Angeline shouted into the megaphone once more, jumping slightly when Meia grabbed it from her and dumped it onto the ground.
“Not here! What the hell is wrong with you?!”
“Not here?! You vulgar little girl! What have you done with my Lucian?!”
“Vulgar girl? Oh, you're not very smart, are you?”
Meia rolled her eyes, wondering once more what she could have possibly done to deserve a fate such as one that is associated to the two people who've made her life a living hell for the past few weeks. Oh wait, she knows: it's that blond loser rich kid who thinks he can do whatever he wants. When the only person she actually wanted in her library exited from the doors with books in his hands (his textbooks, that is. It would be inexcusable to her, even if it was Reid), she kicked herself mentally.
“Reid! Where are you going?” She asked, hoping the anxiety in her voice would cause him to stay to watch over her.
“Meia, what's going on out here?”
“Nothing! There's--”
“Where's my Lucian? That's not Lucian!” Angeline glared at Reid, who in turns gave her an equally confused look.
“Who is she?”
“No one you need to know. Now you,” she turned to Angeline, “Go home. Your boyfriend is not here.”
“Then I demand to know where he is, you vulgar girl!”
A surprised look appeared on Reid's face at the comment, and he responded: “That's not very polite.”
Meia nodded, turning around so that Reid could not see her face, she got up closer to Angeline and whispered into the girl's ear with her threat: “Look you, I told you your rich boy's not here. If you don't leave, I will be more than vulgar and you're not going to leave without a scratch on that pretty little dress of yours.”
Angeline gasped, appalled at the two people who've issued impolite statements to her. Turning around with her aristocratic nose up in the ear, she returned to the safety of her shiny black limousine and replied, “Looks like you can't get me now, can you?”
Without another word, she rode off.
For Angeline, this is yet another failure she will encounter in her attempts to rescue her prince.
“Daniella, when is your sister coming home?”
Sighing, she turned her back on her laptop and greeted her mother with her usual tired smile and responded: “Probably at the library.”
“She's a little late. And it's almost dinner. I called her ten times already and she hasn't picked up. Does she have a--”
“Mom, I would call her if she had her cell phone.”
“You're saying she doesn't?”
“No, you borrowed it, remember? You probably even used it to call her.”
Frowning, she reached into her apron and pulled out the silver cell phone. Sighing tiredly, she scratched her head, replying: “I suppose I forgot.”
“You're just tired. Go rest. I'll get dinner ready and drag her butt home.”
Just when she said that, it was as if a cue had been called that caused the doorbell to ring incessantly. Daniella shrugged and stated: “Speak of the devil.”
Their mother went to the door, quite prepared to open the door and yell at her daughter. However, before she could open the door, it was pulled shut. Why? One might ask. Had she installed the windowed door a few years back rather than the beautiful artsy mahogany door that she so loved, she would have been able to see that Meia was talking to Reid and was holding the door against her back so that she could finish and savage what was left of their potential relationship that had almost been ruined by the two rich kids.
“So... I'll see you at school tomorrow.” Meia muttered nervously.
“Yea... nice library, by the way.” Reid responded, mentally kicking himself for such a lame comment.
Meia laughed, “Yea, well, it doesn't always have the best visitors. N-not you, I mean. I-I was talking about those two people. Beaumont just doesn't turn his books in on time and that one girl is just—yea, you know.”
Reid returned the gesture. “Yea, well, it's fine. Thanks for helping me with my chemistry.”
“No problem. You only needed to understand the rudimentary stuff, like bonding and polarity and whatnot. Thanks for walking me—Ah!!” The next thing she knew, her back came in contact with the ground rather than the smooth wood of her mother's beloved door. Above her stood her sister, who stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk plastered on her face. “Daniella!”
“Hey Meia, whatcha doing on the ground there?”
“Ha... I tripped.” She smiled, closing the distance between herself and her sister, she continued: “You're so dead!!”
“Hi there,” she greeted the boy standing at the door, “What's your name?”
“Oh, I'm... uh, Reid. Ah, Meia, I gotta go. See you at school tomorrow.”
Before Meia could say another word, her dream boy was slipping away and she was once again trapped in the confines of her home. Turning around, she sighed, “Thanks. It was so nerve-wrecking. Of course, you didn't have to jerk on the door and do all that stuff.”
“Yea, well, mom's pissed. You almost missed dinner. Now you should sneak to the table and hope she doesn't see you.”
“Yea, first the table is 2/3 full, now it's going to be entirely full. You think she won't notice? I think she will notice. That means she's gonna kill me... or worse, she's going to burn down my lib--”
“I will burn down your library if you don't start going.” Daniella growled, pushing her sister towards the dining table.
At the table their mother sat, eating almost ferociously as if to demonstrate Meia's fate. Meia winced when her mother bit into the chicken bone and obeyed immediately when she waved her hands for the two sisters to sit down and eat. After almost half an hour of silent eating, the youngest blurted out in a hurry: “Mom, I'm sorry. There's this freak who's been bothering me at the library and his girlfriend, a freak too, was bothering me today about where her boyfriend is. Then Reid and I took a while to get rid of her and he said that he'd walk me home and I thought that's really nice of him. So I said okay and he walked me home and on the way home we got stuck at this stop light because the light didn't turn to the walking thingie and--”
“I get it Meia, just get home early next time please.” Her mother rolled her eyes, smiling. “I heard you talk to your boyfriend out there. I trust you didn't do anything unacceptable, else I would have to add some consequences to any mishaps.”
“She means that she'll kill you if you get pregnant.” Daniella snickered.
“He's not my boyfriend!” Turning to her sister, Meia grunted: “And I'm not going to get pregnant!”
“Oh, I bet you were swapping spit with him,” Daniella playfully added her contribution, “And you call the library such a sacred place. I'm disappointed, hun.”
“Daniella!”
Before the playful argument could continue, the phone rang. A fortune or misfortune, this could only be correctly judged if one was Meia. However, one could instantly tell what she was thinking when she heard the voice on the other side of the line. This was indeed a misfortune.
“Meia dear?”
Lucian Beaumont did not get any replies; instead, he ended up scoffing indignantly when the sound of a click was followed by the unfamiliar monotone. He had never been hung up on before! Imagine the trouble went through to find her phone number! Of course he wasn't surprised that poor people's phone numbers were hard to find, especially when the letters in that big yellow book were so microscopic. He never would have thought of looking there had it not been for his butler who suggested that the common people's numbers are not found within the central intelligence for rich people network but in a giant yellow book.
He had to call several houses before he heard her voice answer on the other side. He would never forget the sound of her voice, of course. It haunted his day and night every second he had possession of the book. It was as though she was stalking him through the book, well, only now, he's stalking her. Kind of.
Redialing the number, he cleared his throat once more, placing the phone to his ear to hear its ringing once again. Running through what he had rehearsed earlier for his master plan, he waited. When she picked up again, he was unable to speak. Instead, he quivered at the sound of her inquiry: “What the hell do you want, Beaumont? Are you stalking me?”
In the background, he could hear another woman's voice, one that might as well be far more lovely but just as lethal, asking: “Meia? Is that you with that vulgar mouth of yours? You better fix those words, young lady!”
“Alright mom! I'll wash my mouth out later!” With a quieter voice, she hissed into the phone: “And you. What do you want from me? No, wait, how did you get my number?”
“Well, you should be proud of me. I looked in the poor people's book.”
“The poor people's book?”
“Yes, the one with all the old yellow parchment pages with the tiny letters and whatnot. It had several of your name listed.”
“How do you even know my last name? I never told you my last name... did you look at the plate? Because if you looked at the plate--”
“I looked at the employee's list at the library.”
“Oh... well, how did you manage to pick up the phone and call people then?”
“Meia dear, I may be rich and uneducated in the lives of poor people, but I'm not dumb enough to pick up a phone and call someone.”
“Can you stop saying poor people?”
“Well, I looked up your financial background, and considering your life with your mother and sister... Meia dear, you may as well be impoverished.”
“You know, I can beat you up over the phone.”
“Can you now?”
“Would you like to find out?”
“No.”
“Why are you calling me? You have five seconds to tell me.”
“Well--”
“Five!”
Once again, the unfamiliar click arrived and Lucian growled, dumping the phone onto its hanger as he yelled. He was still unable to stand up to that beast. No matter, what he has in mind should take precedence over what she has over him. He still has the upper hand over her.
“Meia dear?”
“I swear, if you call again. I won't put a restraining order on you. I'll make you put one on me!”
“Now, wouldn't you want to know why I called you?”
“Five seconds.”
“That is infinitely too short regarding what I want to--”
The third time now. One more time, he might just give up and find someone else. Who was he kidding anyways? No one had the guts to do what she had done. He had no one else. Anyone he could find would simply kiss his feet and worship the dirt that he walks on, perhaps even the marble toilet he sits on.
“Meia, you have got to stop hanging up on me like that. It's not polite.”
“I said five seconds. And good, you stopped calling me dear.”
“Dear... WAIT! Don't hang up!” He yelled when he heard the slight gust of wind that indicated the departure of the phone from its position by her ear. “I need your help!”
“My help? Can't you go bother me at the library?”
“There's too many eyes.”
“My cameras are only for me to access.”
“No, I mean... Angeline.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“She's not my girlfriend.”
“So you're saying... Oh...”
Lucian grimaced inwardly; perhaps this wasn't such a good plan, letting a soul other than himself know that he feared the living hell out of that girl. He could hear Meia snicker over the other side of the phone, perhaps laughing her ass off after finding that he was scared of a little girl.
“That's not funny.”
“You're right, it's not. It's not funny at all. No, I won't say it's hilarious either, because it's frigging priceless!”
“Okay, now will you shut up for me to talk?”
“If you say that one more time--”
“I need you to be my girlfriend.”
“You're funny.”
“Don't hang up until you hear me out, Meia.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you know about your family's financial problems, and I know I can fix it. You also have boy problems, and I can also take advantage of it.”
“A boy problem? And what would that be?”
“A younger boy? Really, Meia?”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“What's the Webster's definition of blackmail?”
Sighing, she turned her back on her laptop and greeted her mother with her usual tired smile and responded: “Probably at the library.”
“She's a little late. And it's almost dinner. I called her ten times already and she hasn't picked up. Does she have a--”
“Mom, I would call her if she had her cell phone.”
“You're saying she doesn't?”
“No, you borrowed it, remember? You probably even used it to call her.”
Frowning, she reached into her apron and pulled out the silver cell phone. Sighing tiredly, she scratched her head, replying: “I suppose I forgot.”
“You're just tired. Go rest. I'll get dinner ready and drag her butt home.”
Just when she said that, it was as if a cue had been called that caused the doorbell to ring incessantly. Daniella shrugged and stated: “Speak of the devil.”
Their mother went to the door, quite prepared to open the door and yell at her daughter. However, before she could open the door, it was pulled shut. Why? One might ask. Had she installed the windowed door a few years back rather than the beautiful artsy mahogany door that she so loved, she would have been able to see that Meia was talking to Reid and was holding the door against her back so that she could finish and savage what was left of their potential relationship that had almost been ruined by the two rich kids.
“So... I'll see you at school tomorrow.” Meia muttered nervously.
“Yea... nice library, by the way.” Reid responded, mentally kicking himself for such a lame comment.
Meia laughed, “Yea, well, it doesn't always have the best visitors. N-not you, I mean. I-I was talking about those two people. Beaumont just doesn't turn his books in on time and that one girl is just—yea, you know.”
Reid returned the gesture. “Yea, well, it's fine. Thanks for helping me with my chemistry.”
“No problem. You only needed to understand the rudimentary stuff, like bonding and polarity and whatnot. Thanks for walking me—Ah!!” The next thing she knew, her back came in contact with the ground rather than the smooth wood of her mother's beloved door. Above her stood her sister, who stared at her with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk plastered on her face. “Daniella!”
“Hey Meia, whatcha doing on the ground there?”
“Ha... I tripped.” She smiled, closing the distance between herself and her sister, she continued: “You're so dead!!”
“Hi there,” she greeted the boy standing at the door, “What's your name?”
“Oh, I'm... uh, Reid. Ah, Meia, I gotta go. See you at school tomorrow.”
Before Meia could say another word, her dream boy was slipping away and she was once again trapped in the confines of her home. Turning around, she sighed, “Thanks. It was so nerve-wrecking. Of course, you didn't have to jerk on the door and do all that stuff.”
“Yea, well, mom's pissed. You almost missed dinner. Now you should sneak to the table and hope she doesn't see you.”
“Yea, first the table is 2/3 full, now it's going to be entirely full. You think she won't notice? I think she will notice. That means she's gonna kill me... or worse, she's going to burn down my lib--”
“I will burn down your library if you don't start going.” Daniella growled, pushing her sister towards the dining table.
At the table their mother sat, eating almost ferociously as if to demonstrate Meia's fate. Meia winced when her mother bit into the chicken bone and obeyed immediately when she waved her hands for the two sisters to sit down and eat. After almost half an hour of silent eating, the youngest blurted out in a hurry: “Mom, I'm sorry. There's this freak who's been bothering me at the library and his girlfriend, a freak too, was bothering me today about where her boyfriend is. Then Reid and I took a while to get rid of her and he said that he'd walk me home and I thought that's really nice of him. So I said okay and he walked me home and on the way home we got stuck at this stop light because the light didn't turn to the walking thingie and--”
“I get it Meia, just get home early next time please.” Her mother rolled her eyes, smiling. “I heard you talk to your boyfriend out there. I trust you didn't do anything unacceptable, else I would have to add some consequences to any mishaps.”
“She means that she'll kill you if you get pregnant.” Daniella snickered.
“He's not my boyfriend!” Turning to her sister, Meia grunted: “And I'm not going to get pregnant!”
“Oh, I bet you were swapping spit with him,” Daniella playfully added her contribution, “And you call the library such a sacred place. I'm disappointed, hun.”
“Daniella!”
Before the playful argument could continue, the phone rang. A fortune or misfortune, this could only be correctly judged if one was Meia. However, one could instantly tell what she was thinking when she heard the voice on the other side of the line. This was indeed a misfortune.
“Meia dear?”
Lucian Beaumont did not get any replies; instead, he ended up scoffing indignantly when the sound of a click was followed by the unfamiliar monotone. He had never been hung up on before! Imagine the trouble went through to find her phone number! Of course he wasn't surprised that poor people's phone numbers were hard to find, especially when the letters in that big yellow book were so microscopic. He never would have thought of looking there had it not been for his butler who suggested that the common people's numbers are not found within the central intelligence for rich people network but in a giant yellow book.
He had to call several houses before he heard her voice answer on the other side. He would never forget the sound of her voice, of course. It haunted his day and night every second he had possession of the book. It was as though she was stalking him through the book, well, only now, he's stalking her. Kind of.
Redialing the number, he cleared his throat once more, placing the phone to his ear to hear its ringing once again. Running through what he had rehearsed earlier for his master plan, he waited. When she picked up again, he was unable to speak. Instead, he quivered at the sound of her inquiry: “What the hell do you want, Beaumont? Are you stalking me?”
In the background, he could hear another woman's voice, one that might as well be far more lovely but just as lethal, asking: “Meia? Is that you with that vulgar mouth of yours? You better fix those words, young lady!”
“Alright mom! I'll wash my mouth out later!” With a quieter voice, she hissed into the phone: “And you. What do you want from me? No, wait, how did you get my number?”
“Well, you should be proud of me. I looked in the poor people's book.”
“The poor people's book?”
“Yes, the one with all the old yellow parchment pages with the tiny letters and whatnot. It had several of your name listed.”
“How do you even know my last name? I never told you my last name... did you look at the plate? Because if you looked at the plate--”
“I looked at the employee's list at the library.”
“Oh... well, how did you manage to pick up the phone and call people then?”
“Meia dear, I may be rich and uneducated in the lives of poor people, but I'm not dumb enough to pick up a phone and call someone.”
“Can you stop saying poor people?”
“Well, I looked up your financial background, and considering your life with your mother and sister... Meia dear, you may as well be impoverished.”
“You know, I can beat you up over the phone.”
“Can you now?”
“Would you like to find out?”
“No.”
“Why are you calling me? You have five seconds to tell me.”
“Well--”
“Five!”
Once again, the unfamiliar click arrived and Lucian growled, dumping the phone onto its hanger as he yelled. He was still unable to stand up to that beast. No matter, what he has in mind should take precedence over what she has over him. He still has the upper hand over her.
“Meia dear?”
“I swear, if you call again. I won't put a restraining order on you. I'll make you put one on me!”
“Now, wouldn't you want to know why I called you?”
“Five seconds.”
“That is infinitely too short regarding what I want to--”
The third time now. One more time, he might just give up and find someone else. Who was he kidding anyways? No one had the guts to do what she had done. He had no one else. Anyone he could find would simply kiss his feet and worship the dirt that he walks on, perhaps even the marble toilet he sits on.
“Meia, you have got to stop hanging up on me like that. It's not polite.”
“I said five seconds. And good, you stopped calling me dear.”
“Dear... WAIT! Don't hang up!” He yelled when he heard the slight gust of wind that indicated the departure of the phone from its position by her ear. “I need your help!”
“My help? Can't you go bother me at the library?”
“There's too many eyes.”
“My cameras are only for me to access.”
“No, I mean... Angeline.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“She's not my girlfriend.”
“So you're saying... Oh...”
Lucian grimaced inwardly; perhaps this wasn't such a good plan, letting a soul other than himself know that he feared the living hell out of that girl. He could hear Meia snicker over the other side of the phone, perhaps laughing her ass off after finding that he was scared of a little girl.
“That's not funny.”
“You're right, it's not. It's not funny at all. No, I won't say it's hilarious either, because it's frigging priceless!”
“Okay, now will you shut up for me to talk?”
“If you say that one more time--”
“I need you to be my girlfriend.”
“You're funny.”
“Don't hang up until you hear me out, Meia.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you know about your family's financial problems, and I know I can fix it. You also have boy problems, and I can also take advantage of it.”
“A boy problem? And what would that be?”
“A younger boy? Really, Meia?”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
“What's the Webster's definition of blackmail?”
Chapter Four: Sleeping Monster
The challenge laid not in waking the princess, but stopping the monster that awoke in her place from killing everyone it saw for interrupting its lovely dream about a delectable meal with children as its main ingredient.
“Wow, that was a horrible book. What a repetitive and predictable plot...” Meia muttered to herself, tucking yet another disappointing book away in her shelf for its return to the library. Its black leather hard back had almost fooled her; she had remained skeptical about it until she saw the golden letter etched onto the covers: Sleeping Beauty. However, when she had picked it up, she couldn't put it down. Unfortunately, it was neither the penmanship nor the plot that had retained her attention, but it was the possibility that the prince who was on a quest to rescue his princess might somehow choke and die so that the story would take an interesting twist.
Much to her disappointment, it appears that such did not happen. Shows what today's readers like to read.
Picking up the next book, she hoped its notorious reputation would help cure her boredom. Well, she didn't hope, she had faith that the Grimm Brothers would help bring about the reality of the fairy tales that readers often indulge in with their fantasies about princes and princesses. Before she could pick up the next gigantic leather book, it began to vibrate. The nasty little black thing that sat at the corner of her desk started to vibrate, confined within its protective case as another assurance that she wouldn't let it vibrate until it fell on the ground and shatter into oblivion.
Instead of vibrating itself off the table, the case began to spin around, a trick that he had told his people to customize so that she wouldn't be able to break their bond. When it stopped vibrating, she smirked, returning to her book. Despite that he could prevent the thing from breaking, he can't make her pick up whenever he decides to call.
“Meia dear? I know you're there! Be a dear and prepare for school, will you? I'll stop by in half an hour to pick you up.” His despicable voice rang through the speaker phone.
She frowned, that prick! She had no idea what she was thinking when she accepted the deal. His blackmail was indeed a failed attempt, of course, something inside of her (something that resembled Daniella's voice) reminded her about the male pride and its sensitivity to be corrected by the opposite sex. Instead of correcting him and telling him that her family never really reported the actual amount of money they have—having kept a good portion of their money in cash form—and that she was not exactly worried about Reid knowing of her feelings for him, she accepted the blackmail, curious to see what tricks he might have up his sleeve. Instead of simply accepting his fool's victory, the idiot went on babbling about how he'll send her a new phone and enroll her into his school to complete the act.
Of course, sending her the phone had been a waste of money—he bragged about spending thousands and thousands of dollars on decorating the thing with black diamonds and various other valuable accessories so that Angeline would see his devotion to his girlfriend—because she had trashed the thing as soon as she got it. So afterwards, he sent her a plain one, another of which she broke because she didn't feel like using another phone. Finally, Lucian decided he'd be safe and tell her that the third phone he sends her will be directly connected to his so that any time she needed to reach him, he'll pick up. Such an effective lie went by unnoticed by Meia when she thought of the profit she could reap from selling the phone to her friends. Her attempt had been foiled by the password and identity lock that he had installed on the phone, thus successfully forcing her to use the phone as a second communicative device to reach him.
He had even attempted to speak to her mother! Meia had taken care of him before then, of course. If there's anything she would purposely let him have an upper hand on, it would be everything but interaction with her family. The poor chap ended up with a missing button on his expensive silk polo before he ran away, pleading for mercy and the possibility that she'd leave his flawless face alone.
“I'm going to be at the library after school.” She muttered to him. The blond braced his ear as though he was unable to hear what she was saying. In a louder voice, she repeated: “I'm going to be at the library after school today. Don't wait up.”
“Why? What about our date?”
“Date?” The expression on her face seemed a mix breed between confused and pissed. Lucian was almost afraid to continue his improvisation.
“I told you about it last week, remember? We're going on a date so that those paparazzi can see that we're together.”
“You're funny.”
“I know, aren't I? My mother used to tell me that I could be a comedian had it not been my duty to take over my father's business after college.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Meia, you should be more obvious when you're being more sarcastic. People might take your rude comments as a compliment if they didn't know you. Like me, for instance.”
“Then I don't know why you'd want to date me then.”
“Well, I did a background check on you, and you were clean. You know, you're one of the hardest poor people to get a background check on. It's as though your profile is sealed tight. Is there something I should know, Meia?”
“If you managed to get a background check on me, I don't see what there would be anything else I need to tell you.”
“I was simply making sure, in case any of the information has been falsified by a devious hand. Are you sure I couldn't just simply take you to the library?”
“I'm sure. I don't want to be seen with you there.”
“Meia. I'm deeply hurt.”
“Are you?”
“Wait a minute, are you going to see that guy?”
“What are you talking about? The bus is here. Bye.”
Before he could say another word, she hung up. How dare she? The impudent girl dared to dwell upon the thought that she could two time her relationship with him and another guy. Lucian felt insulted that he was in the midst of a rivalry with a boy one year younger than him. It was simply too humiliating for him to bear. Exhaling deeply, he directed his destination to his chaffeur.
Lucian Beaumont has never been humiliated in such a way. He didn't plan on it now.
“Wow, that was a horrible book. What a repetitive and predictable plot...” Meia muttered to herself, tucking yet another disappointing book away in her shelf for its return to the library. Its black leather hard back had almost fooled her; she had remained skeptical about it until she saw the golden letter etched onto the covers: Sleeping Beauty. However, when she had picked it up, she couldn't put it down. Unfortunately, it was neither the penmanship nor the plot that had retained her attention, but it was the possibility that the prince who was on a quest to rescue his princess might somehow choke and die so that the story would take an interesting twist.
Much to her disappointment, it appears that such did not happen. Shows what today's readers like to read.
Picking up the next book, she hoped its notorious reputation would help cure her boredom. Well, she didn't hope, she had faith that the Grimm Brothers would help bring about the reality of the fairy tales that readers often indulge in with their fantasies about princes and princesses. Before she could pick up the next gigantic leather book, it began to vibrate. The nasty little black thing that sat at the corner of her desk started to vibrate, confined within its protective case as another assurance that she wouldn't let it vibrate until it fell on the ground and shatter into oblivion.
Instead of vibrating itself off the table, the case began to spin around, a trick that he had told his people to customize so that she wouldn't be able to break their bond. When it stopped vibrating, she smirked, returning to her book. Despite that he could prevent the thing from breaking, he can't make her pick up whenever he decides to call.
“Meia dear? I know you're there! Be a dear and prepare for school, will you? I'll stop by in half an hour to pick you up.” His despicable voice rang through the speaker phone.
She frowned, that prick! She had no idea what she was thinking when she accepted the deal. His blackmail was indeed a failed attempt, of course, something inside of her (something that resembled Daniella's voice) reminded her about the male pride and its sensitivity to be corrected by the opposite sex. Instead of correcting him and telling him that her family never really reported the actual amount of money they have—having kept a good portion of their money in cash form—and that she was not exactly worried about Reid knowing of her feelings for him, she accepted the blackmail, curious to see what tricks he might have up his sleeve. Instead of simply accepting his fool's victory, the idiot went on babbling about how he'll send her a new phone and enroll her into his school to complete the act.
Of course, sending her the phone had been a waste of money—he bragged about spending thousands and thousands of dollars on decorating the thing with black diamonds and various other valuable accessories so that Angeline would see his devotion to his girlfriend—because she had trashed the thing as soon as she got it. So afterwards, he sent her a plain one, another of which she broke because she didn't feel like using another phone. Finally, Lucian decided he'd be safe and tell her that the third phone he sends her will be directly connected to his so that any time she needed to reach him, he'll pick up. Such an effective lie went by unnoticed by Meia when she thought of the profit she could reap from selling the phone to her friends. Her attempt had been foiled by the password and identity lock that he had installed on the phone, thus successfully forcing her to use the phone as a second communicative device to reach him.
He had even attempted to speak to her mother! Meia had taken care of him before then, of course. If there's anything she would purposely let him have an upper hand on, it would be everything but interaction with her family. The poor chap ended up with a missing button on his expensive silk polo before he ran away, pleading for mercy and the possibility that she'd leave his flawless face alone.
“I'm going to be at the library after school.” She muttered to him. The blond braced his ear as though he was unable to hear what she was saying. In a louder voice, she repeated: “I'm going to be at the library after school today. Don't wait up.”
“Why? What about our date?”
“Date?” The expression on her face seemed a mix breed between confused and pissed. Lucian was almost afraid to continue his improvisation.
“I told you about it last week, remember? We're going on a date so that those paparazzi can see that we're together.”
“You're funny.”
“I know, aren't I? My mother used to tell me that I could be a comedian had it not been my duty to take over my father's business after college.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Meia, you should be more obvious when you're being more sarcastic. People might take your rude comments as a compliment if they didn't know you. Like me, for instance.”
“Then I don't know why you'd want to date me then.”
“Well, I did a background check on you, and you were clean. You know, you're one of the hardest poor people to get a background check on. It's as though your profile is sealed tight. Is there something I should know, Meia?”
“If you managed to get a background check on me, I don't see what there would be anything else I need to tell you.”
“I was simply making sure, in case any of the information has been falsified by a devious hand. Are you sure I couldn't just simply take you to the library?”
“I'm sure. I don't want to be seen with you there.”
“Meia. I'm deeply hurt.”
“Are you?”
“Wait a minute, are you going to see that guy?”
“What are you talking about? The bus is here. Bye.”
Before he could say another word, she hung up. How dare she? The impudent girl dared to dwell upon the thought that she could two time her relationship with him and another guy. Lucian felt insulted that he was in the midst of a rivalry with a boy one year younger than him. It was simply too humiliating for him to bear. Exhaling deeply, he directed his destination to his chaffeur.
Lucian Beaumont has never been humiliated in such a way. He didn't plan on it now.
Sighing in utter content, Meia rested her head on the cool leather cover of her new books. Today was the day of the new arrivals. Usually with special permission from the former librarian, she was able to take a few hours off of school to await the arrivals of the new books. Her teachers have been so used to it that she doesn't even need to notify them.
She had even taken the trouble to carry the boxes in herself. Meia had made a terrible mistake to allow them the pleasure of bringing those books in. After their moaning and groaning, they even crudely dropped the boxes upon arriving at the counter. Of course, Meia didn't hesitate to give them a piece of her mind. This time, they were more considerate and understood her implications of wanting to handle her own books.
Out of nowhere, she twitched. She knew, deep at the bottom of her stomach, that something bad was going to happen. The echoing of the shoes, expensive shoes, more or less. Not to mention, they seemed to be rushing. The ominous presence nearing her room. She knew what was going to happen next. She just didn't know how to stop it.
“Meia!”
“Beaumont?”
“There you are!”
Shielding her books as he approached, Meia retorted: “And what are you doing here?”
“That should be my question. Going behind my back, are you? Have you any wits of a poor person?”
“What did you just say?”
“Is it simply not clear that my implications are aimed towards your secret meeting with that boy with a piercing on his ear?”
“Now they are, and we're not meeting. Go home.”
“Then what, pray tell, are you doing here?”
“Isn't it obvious, you prick? I'm doing my job.”
“Yet you act so secretively when you brush me off and tell me to go home.”
“I wasn't acting secretively. I was telling you to go home. Are you stupid?”
“Stop insulting me!”
“Stop annoying me!”
About two seconds to ten minutes later, the sound of moving chairs could be heard inside of the library, followed by frightened screams that could belong to no other than Lucian Beaumont as he struggled to escape the wrath of the librarian. Sanctuary, as the library has later been named, didn't seem much like a sanctuary that day, but rather, a battle field in front of a haven of books, protected by the female dragon from the reckless knight. Instead of lonesome escape, the fight ended quite peacefully, at least, more than before.
Lucian and Meia walked out of the library, him waiting for her to lock the doors before both of them got into the limosine. No one really knew what happened that day. How the dragon appeared to be tamed and how the knight appeared to be unharmed. However, the chaffeur that had been waiting in the limosine, reading his newspaper decided that the best way to keep his life is to suppress his curiosity when the two teenagers got into the car silently. Either way, it was a mystery.
A mystery best saved for another day.
She had even taken the trouble to carry the boxes in herself. Meia had made a terrible mistake to allow them the pleasure of bringing those books in. After their moaning and groaning, they even crudely dropped the boxes upon arriving at the counter. Of course, Meia didn't hesitate to give them a piece of her mind. This time, they were more considerate and understood her implications of wanting to handle her own books.
Out of nowhere, she twitched. She knew, deep at the bottom of her stomach, that something bad was going to happen. The echoing of the shoes, expensive shoes, more or less. Not to mention, they seemed to be rushing. The ominous presence nearing her room. She knew what was going to happen next. She just didn't know how to stop it.
“Meia!”
“Beaumont?”
“There you are!”
Shielding her books as he approached, Meia retorted: “And what are you doing here?”
“That should be my question. Going behind my back, are you? Have you any wits of a poor person?”
“What did you just say?”
“Is it simply not clear that my implications are aimed towards your secret meeting with that boy with a piercing on his ear?”
“Now they are, and we're not meeting. Go home.”
“Then what, pray tell, are you doing here?”
“Isn't it obvious, you prick? I'm doing my job.”
“Yet you act so secretively when you brush me off and tell me to go home.”
“I wasn't acting secretively. I was telling you to go home. Are you stupid?”
“Stop insulting me!”
“Stop annoying me!”
About two seconds to ten minutes later, the sound of moving chairs could be heard inside of the library, followed by frightened screams that could belong to no other than Lucian Beaumont as he struggled to escape the wrath of the librarian. Sanctuary, as the library has later been named, didn't seem much like a sanctuary that day, but rather, a battle field in front of a haven of books, protected by the female dragon from the reckless knight. Instead of lonesome escape, the fight ended quite peacefully, at least, more than before.
Lucian and Meia walked out of the library, him waiting for her to lock the doors before both of them got into the limosine. No one really knew what happened that day. How the dragon appeared to be tamed and how the knight appeared to be unharmed. However, the chaffeur that had been waiting in the limosine, reading his newspaper decided that the best way to keep his life is to suppress his curiosity when the two teenagers got into the car silently. Either way, it was a mystery.
A mystery best saved for another day.
“Meia, your boyfriend's calling again!” Daniella's voice blasted through the door of the three-by-three bathroom.
Twitching, Meia rested her head against the bathtub, determined to relax. The creepy little rich kid had been calling her for the fourth time now, as she has counted, about some date that she didn't know about. Today was her Saturday to stay home, as she had already went out with him last Saturday. Their trip to her favorite ice scream store had been shortened when the paparazzi came out of nowhere, asking for her favorite flavor. Before she could answer, Lucian grabbed her by the waist, smiling at the camera before dragging her out into the car.
“Meia, dear? Are you taking a bath?”
Eyes snapping open at the voice through the door, she jumped up, looking for the nearest towel.
“I'm standing right outside, sweetheart!”
It was him again. That annoying creepy voice. If he wasn't a rich kid, he'd pass for some kind of predator or stalker.
“I'm glad you're getting ready for our date. I left the dress in your room!”
What? He's been in her room? That creep!
“Well, I'll be waiting outside now!”
At the sound of his footsteps leaving the hallway, Meia immediately shouted to the spectator: “Daniella, what the hell are you thinking? Letting him into my room?”
“He said you guys have a date today! Have fun!”
Why was her sister so—Oh.
“Don't tell me. Your boyfriend's gonna come today?”
“Mom's not going to be home. And there's no way I'm babysitting you. Hurry up and get out of the house.”
“You could have just let me get out by myself.”
“Yea, knowing you. You'd probably go get some books from your library and read in your room all day.”
“How in the world would that bother you?”
“Ricky's scared of you!”
Opening the door to see her sister leaning against the doorway, Meia retorted: “I told you. He's gay.”
“He is not gay!” Daniella responded, following her sister into her bedroom. “He's just... sensitive. Okay, so maybe he's a little gay. But he's cute. He'll be straight in no time, with me.”
“Don't kid yourself. I need to change. Get out.”
Finally alone in her room, Meia turned around, catching site of the dress on the bed and the pair of boots on the ground. There was absolutely no way she was going to wear that thing. Absolutely no way. She simply didn't have the body. Surely, the dress was pretty—she has to admit, Lucian has pretty good taste if he was the one who picked it out. God only knows how he found out about her favorite color: pink.
Sure, Meia didn't look the type. The girl who wears baggy shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, but she only does so because she doesn't like to pick out her clothes every morning. Not to mention, she didn't have that many clothes to begin with. Being the younger daughter, she was often the victim of her sister's hand me downs. Daniella never liked sharing clothes with her younger sister, claiming that the girl's boyishness will simply be a waste bin for her pretty clothes if she passed it down. It was for good reasons too, for the first dress that Daniella ever gave to Meia was in fifth grade. In one day, it had been turned into a shirt by a pair of safety scissors that crudely cut along the silk fabric.
Anyway, the pink and white dress could not have belonged to Meia. By its appearance, she wouldn't do it justice. In response to her ringing cell phone, she picked up, tossing out a quick inquiry before hearing Lucian's voice on the line.
“Are you done dressing yet?”
“I'm not wearing this.”
“Why not? God forbid I ever walk in public with what you were wearing last week. Besides, it'll look good on you.”
“No it won't.”
“I'm sure it does. I made sure the sizes are right.”
“How would you know my size? You've never seen my body.”
“Trust me, I know your size. You're my girlfriend. It would simply be careless that as a lover, I don't know your size.”
“You're creepy, you know that?”
“I will see you out here with that dress on. Bye!”
Fifteen minutes later, Meia was outside, holding onto the door as she clumsily inched outside into the view of a very impatient Lucian. Raising an eyebrow at her, he approached her, eying her up and down. Surely it wasn't a crime to check out one's girlfriend, even if there has been a lack of affection between them. Sending a glare his way, Meia bravely let go of the door, holding tightly onto her bag.
She wasn't stupid. Even if it was a publicity stunt, there was no way she's going to wear these boots the entire time. That's why, wrapped in a plastic bag, her flip flops were inside of her bag.
“Cute.”
That was it? The torturous fifteen minutes she went through with this dress and her hair and the boots and all she got was one word expressing moderate beauty? Surely this guy must be joking. Meia wanted to beat him up. Instead, all she could do was blush. Holding his hand out to her, he waited until she took it while saying: “Come on, Meia, dear. We can't stand here forever. I can't have you using that excuse to wear those hideous flip flops in your bag either.”
“You ass.”
“A pretty girl shouldn't have such a dirty mouth.”
What? She's promoted up a rank now? Inside the limosine, they sat about a meter away, Lucian with his eyes out the window as Meia was rummaging inside her bag. The sixteen-year-old was practically ventilating at the lack of book inside her bag. Glancing at her in the corner of his eyes, Lucian raised his eyebrow, wondering what in whoever's name she could be doing.
Instead of asking, he bravely ignored it, knowing that any inquiries of her current activity might set her off. The blond never thought that he would ever become perverted at such an age. Seventeen years old and he nearly got a nosebleed looking at her, and she wasn't wearing anything obscene. Obviously, she wasn't beautiful or anything, with that glare on her face. Maybe that's the reason. The girl probably practiced glaring at people that such an expression has gotten efficient at harming people.
That's it. He was getting a nosebleed because of her glare.
Surely, that's the reason.
He hoped.
Twitching, Meia rested her head against the bathtub, determined to relax. The creepy little rich kid had been calling her for the fourth time now, as she has counted, about some date that she didn't know about. Today was her Saturday to stay home, as she had already went out with him last Saturday. Their trip to her favorite ice scream store had been shortened when the paparazzi came out of nowhere, asking for her favorite flavor. Before she could answer, Lucian grabbed her by the waist, smiling at the camera before dragging her out into the car.
“Meia, dear? Are you taking a bath?”
Eyes snapping open at the voice through the door, she jumped up, looking for the nearest towel.
“I'm standing right outside, sweetheart!”
It was him again. That annoying creepy voice. If he wasn't a rich kid, he'd pass for some kind of predator or stalker.
“I'm glad you're getting ready for our date. I left the dress in your room!”
What? He's been in her room? That creep!
“Well, I'll be waiting outside now!”
At the sound of his footsteps leaving the hallway, Meia immediately shouted to the spectator: “Daniella, what the hell are you thinking? Letting him into my room?”
“He said you guys have a date today! Have fun!”
Why was her sister so—Oh.
“Don't tell me. Your boyfriend's gonna come today?”
“Mom's not going to be home. And there's no way I'm babysitting you. Hurry up and get out of the house.”
“You could have just let me get out by myself.”
“Yea, knowing you. You'd probably go get some books from your library and read in your room all day.”
“How in the world would that bother you?”
“Ricky's scared of you!”
Opening the door to see her sister leaning against the doorway, Meia retorted: “I told you. He's gay.”
“He is not gay!” Daniella responded, following her sister into her bedroom. “He's just... sensitive. Okay, so maybe he's a little gay. But he's cute. He'll be straight in no time, with me.”
“Don't kid yourself. I need to change. Get out.”
Finally alone in her room, Meia turned around, catching site of the dress on the bed and the pair of boots on the ground. There was absolutely no way she was going to wear that thing. Absolutely no way. She simply didn't have the body. Surely, the dress was pretty—she has to admit, Lucian has pretty good taste if he was the one who picked it out. God only knows how he found out about her favorite color: pink.
Sure, Meia didn't look the type. The girl who wears baggy shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, but she only does so because she doesn't like to pick out her clothes every morning. Not to mention, she didn't have that many clothes to begin with. Being the younger daughter, she was often the victim of her sister's hand me downs. Daniella never liked sharing clothes with her younger sister, claiming that the girl's boyishness will simply be a waste bin for her pretty clothes if she passed it down. It was for good reasons too, for the first dress that Daniella ever gave to Meia was in fifth grade. In one day, it had been turned into a shirt by a pair of safety scissors that crudely cut along the silk fabric.
Anyway, the pink and white dress could not have belonged to Meia. By its appearance, she wouldn't do it justice. In response to her ringing cell phone, she picked up, tossing out a quick inquiry before hearing Lucian's voice on the line.
“Are you done dressing yet?”
“I'm not wearing this.”
“Why not? God forbid I ever walk in public with what you were wearing last week. Besides, it'll look good on you.”
“No it won't.”
“I'm sure it does. I made sure the sizes are right.”
“How would you know my size? You've never seen my body.”
“Trust me, I know your size. You're my girlfriend. It would simply be careless that as a lover, I don't know your size.”
“You're creepy, you know that?”
“I will see you out here with that dress on. Bye!”
Fifteen minutes later, Meia was outside, holding onto the door as she clumsily inched outside into the view of a very impatient Lucian. Raising an eyebrow at her, he approached her, eying her up and down. Surely it wasn't a crime to check out one's girlfriend, even if there has been a lack of affection between them. Sending a glare his way, Meia bravely let go of the door, holding tightly onto her bag.
She wasn't stupid. Even if it was a publicity stunt, there was no way she's going to wear these boots the entire time. That's why, wrapped in a plastic bag, her flip flops were inside of her bag.
“Cute.”
That was it? The torturous fifteen minutes she went through with this dress and her hair and the boots and all she got was one word expressing moderate beauty? Surely this guy must be joking. Meia wanted to beat him up. Instead, all she could do was blush. Holding his hand out to her, he waited until she took it while saying: “Come on, Meia, dear. We can't stand here forever. I can't have you using that excuse to wear those hideous flip flops in your bag either.”
“You ass.”
“A pretty girl shouldn't have such a dirty mouth.”
What? She's promoted up a rank now? Inside the limosine, they sat about a meter away, Lucian with his eyes out the window as Meia was rummaging inside her bag. The sixteen-year-old was practically ventilating at the lack of book inside her bag. Glancing at her in the corner of his eyes, Lucian raised his eyebrow, wondering what in whoever's name she could be doing.
Instead of asking, he bravely ignored it, knowing that any inquiries of her current activity might set her off. The blond never thought that he would ever become perverted at such an age. Seventeen years old and he nearly got a nosebleed looking at her, and she wasn't wearing anything obscene. Obviously, she wasn't beautiful or anything, with that glare on her face. Maybe that's the reason. The girl probably practiced glaring at people that such an expression has gotten efficient at harming people.
That's it. He was getting a nosebleed because of her glare.
Surely, that's the reason.
He hoped.
The worst date in history.
Meia's thoughts exactly. There could not be any other date that could have taken such a turn. Throwing a deadly glare at the prick sitting beside her, she nearly flared when he inched away, holding his bleeding nose. Lucky for him, she was not at the point of wanting to spend her days in jail because of attempted murder—or simply, murder.
They had barely gotten out of the car before the paparazzi showered them with flashing light, temporarily blinding the sixteen-year-old so that she had to depend on her companion to aid her out of the car. Whoever let the media know that the blond was coming to the movie theatre was surely brave, despite that they probably didn't know about Meia's likely reaction.
Someone, a foolish soul perhaps, even had the guts to shout: “Give her a kiss!”
Before Meia could respond with her own colorful retort, Lucian grabbed her, seemingly determined to make the reporter's wish come true. Surely, what must be running through his gleeful mind was the opportunity to shake his cousin off with a chaste kiss upon the lips of the librarian that would last no more than a second. Instead, the kiss actually lasted two seconds.
Though the photos could not capture the inside action, they surely could capture the indecipherable expression of pain that flew upon Lucian's lips when Meia bit down. Wincing in pain, he managed to fake a smile at the reporters while burying Meia's face against his chest in order to hide her murderous facial expressions. Draping an arm over her shoulder, he had even managed to fake the intimacy by gripping her scarf tightly while she kicked his leg with her boots.
Note to self, Lucian thought inwardly, no more boots.
While the experience may have seemed painfully innocent, noted by the expression on the newspaper that was later published that day, there was more to come for this newly-together couple. Especially when it has reached the eyes of Angeline Ramona. Yes, although the first time her surname has been revealed to anyone, it should be important to note her origins as having an entire family tree of Russian mafias.
Meia's thoughts exactly. There could not be any other date that could have taken such a turn. Throwing a deadly glare at the prick sitting beside her, she nearly flared when he inched away, holding his bleeding nose. Lucky for him, she was not at the point of wanting to spend her days in jail because of attempted murder—or simply, murder.
They had barely gotten out of the car before the paparazzi showered them with flashing light, temporarily blinding the sixteen-year-old so that she had to depend on her companion to aid her out of the car. Whoever let the media know that the blond was coming to the movie theatre was surely brave, despite that they probably didn't know about Meia's likely reaction.
Someone, a foolish soul perhaps, even had the guts to shout: “Give her a kiss!”
Before Meia could respond with her own colorful retort, Lucian grabbed her, seemingly determined to make the reporter's wish come true. Surely, what must be running through his gleeful mind was the opportunity to shake his cousin off with a chaste kiss upon the lips of the librarian that would last no more than a second. Instead, the kiss actually lasted two seconds.
Though the photos could not capture the inside action, they surely could capture the indecipherable expression of pain that flew upon Lucian's lips when Meia bit down. Wincing in pain, he managed to fake a smile at the reporters while burying Meia's face against his chest in order to hide her murderous facial expressions. Draping an arm over her shoulder, he had even managed to fake the intimacy by gripping her scarf tightly while she kicked his leg with her boots.
Note to self, Lucian thought inwardly, no more boots.
While the experience may have seemed painfully innocent, noted by the expression on the newspaper that was later published that day, there was more to come for this newly-together couple. Especially when it has reached the eyes of Angeline Ramona. Yes, although the first time her surname has been revealed to anyone, it should be important to note her origins as having an entire family tree of Russian mafias.
Chapter Five: The Masquerade of the Penniless Princesss
...In reality, one would never really know the origins of the redness of the Little Red Riding Hood or what became of the Big Bad Wolf who wanted to offer her a cookie.
One month anniversary. She grimaced inwardly, glancing at the new set of problems she had given Reid. Lucian expected her to attend the masquerade ball with him next Saturday to announce their one month anniversary and make a public statement about their relationship. Of course, the excess cash he has been giving her family has come in handy for them. Her mom has taken up a routine of shopping for kitchen supplies every Sunday rather than praying at home (“It's alright! Your father can wait a couple of hours!”), Daniella has a couple of extra bills in her wallet to pay for gas and classes and of course, her boyfriend, and finally, Meia did not pass up the chance to add a few extra titles to her list every month.
Life has been swell. After a couple hundreds of dollars to hire a couple of hitmans to get rid of the photos where she socked him in the face, Lucian has learned not to breach any rules of intimacy when with her, even if it's a publicity stunt. They've been getting along decently too, after sitting down to a paparazzi-less evening and sharing a couple of details with each other that should ever come up in the event of an interview.
Apparently, much to Lucian's delight, Angeline hasn't been calling as well. Her parents seemed to have stopped contact after hearing that the heir of Beaumont was taken and there was absolutely no other way they could make it possible for their daughter to date him. After all, the only other way wasn't possible t the moment.
Even in a family of Russian mafias, there are months that one would vow against violent actions—at least as dictated by this new age group. No matter how much Angeline cried, her parents only shook their fingers at her, stating that she would simply have to wait for the next three weeks before she could do anything to the poor girl. There was certain risks to killing poor people as well, she learned. That because of their poorness, the intimacy they may share with their family might induce a federal case due to their searching for them.
“You've been getting better, Reid.” Meia smiled, handing him another thick stack of problems. “These are from the end of course test for the last few years. You should start looking at them soon before your exam comes around the corner. They're fairly easy, in my opinion. As long as you have bonding and chemical reactions down, you'll be fine.”
“Thanks, Meia.” He responded, twitching as he held the heavy stack of paper. “I haven't seen you at school lately.”
Meia laughed inwardly. What an innocent boy, trying to play the part of an oblivious person: “Well, I transferred.”
“Really? Where?”
“Saint Edwards.”
“The rich kid school?”
That was perhaps one way of putting it. The curriculum didn't differ much from what she had been going through, though she did feel bad snatching the valedictorian rank away from the snot-nosed kid who sat behind her in physics class the first day she went to school. Ever since then, she's been feeling daggers stab at her bag. She shouldn't pay too much attention to it, Lucian said, the snot-nosed kid wasn't that rich anyways compared to the blond.
“That means I can't ask you for help in the library anymore.”
“I'm still at this library though. I'm here every day.”
Truthfully, he was rather glad that it was just the two of them in this library. Every other time he came, there would be this creepy blond guy sitting in the corner, reading some astronomy book. He was rather strange too. Meia would simply brush it off whenever Reid told her that the guy was reading upside down. The guy stayed for a long time too, even until she closed and as they were walking home, he could see his black limosine trailing behind them.
How strange it was for Meia to simply ignore it. But she seemed to know him, and if there was anything bad about him, Reid was sure that the sixteen-year-old would do something about it.
“Isn't your birthday coming up?” He asked.
Frowning at such a question, she looked up, answering with uncertainty: “I think so. Next Saturday, right?”
“So...” He swallowed, “You want to hang out then?”
“Sure!” She answered simply. Despite her calm appearance, Meia was galloping inside. Finally, after all the effort she put into tutoring this guy, she can finally go on a date with him. Suddenly she froze, “Actually...”
“You can't?” Reid's jaw dropped. Blushing, he picked up his books in a hurry, standing up from his seat as he grumbled: “It's alright. Another time then.”
“No, no! I mean...”
After ten minutes, the boy finally calmed down, listening to the story that Meia was narrating. Surely, if he was sane, he would have thought she was crazy. As a matter of fact, he was not thinking straight that day. Due to his untold reciprocating feelings for the older girl, he actually believed that there was a creepy rich stalker who was going to take Meia away on Saturday to some masquerade ball.
“I know, it's a bit unbelievable, but I don't lie.”
“No, no, I believe you. What should we do about it?”
“I don't know. I just felt that I should at least explain that to you before you start hating me.”
“So you don't hate me?”
“Although I never said that... no, I don't hate you.”
Reid smiled, flashing his pearly whites as he responded: “That's good. And just so you know, I don't hate you either.”
Minutes later, the brown-haired sophomore was out the door with another packet of chemistry tests to study for that night. Meia stayed behind, opening her new book with an idiotic smile on her face. For once, these strange love stories didn't seem so dumb.
One month anniversary. She grimaced inwardly, glancing at the new set of problems she had given Reid. Lucian expected her to attend the masquerade ball with him next Saturday to announce their one month anniversary and make a public statement about their relationship. Of course, the excess cash he has been giving her family has come in handy for them. Her mom has taken up a routine of shopping for kitchen supplies every Sunday rather than praying at home (“It's alright! Your father can wait a couple of hours!”), Daniella has a couple of extra bills in her wallet to pay for gas and classes and of course, her boyfriend, and finally, Meia did not pass up the chance to add a few extra titles to her list every month.
Life has been swell. After a couple hundreds of dollars to hire a couple of hitmans to get rid of the photos where she socked him in the face, Lucian has learned not to breach any rules of intimacy when with her, even if it's a publicity stunt. They've been getting along decently too, after sitting down to a paparazzi-less evening and sharing a couple of details with each other that should ever come up in the event of an interview.
Apparently, much to Lucian's delight, Angeline hasn't been calling as well. Her parents seemed to have stopped contact after hearing that the heir of Beaumont was taken and there was absolutely no other way they could make it possible for their daughter to date him. After all, the only other way wasn't possible t the moment.
Even in a family of Russian mafias, there are months that one would vow against violent actions—at least as dictated by this new age group. No matter how much Angeline cried, her parents only shook their fingers at her, stating that she would simply have to wait for the next three weeks before she could do anything to the poor girl. There was certain risks to killing poor people as well, she learned. That because of their poorness, the intimacy they may share with their family might induce a federal case due to their searching for them.
“You've been getting better, Reid.” Meia smiled, handing him another thick stack of problems. “These are from the end of course test for the last few years. You should start looking at them soon before your exam comes around the corner. They're fairly easy, in my opinion. As long as you have bonding and chemical reactions down, you'll be fine.”
“Thanks, Meia.” He responded, twitching as he held the heavy stack of paper. “I haven't seen you at school lately.”
Meia laughed inwardly. What an innocent boy, trying to play the part of an oblivious person: “Well, I transferred.”
“Really? Where?”
“Saint Edwards.”
“The rich kid school?”
That was perhaps one way of putting it. The curriculum didn't differ much from what she had been going through, though she did feel bad snatching the valedictorian rank away from the snot-nosed kid who sat behind her in physics class the first day she went to school. Ever since then, she's been feeling daggers stab at her bag. She shouldn't pay too much attention to it, Lucian said, the snot-nosed kid wasn't that rich anyways compared to the blond.
“That means I can't ask you for help in the library anymore.”
“I'm still at this library though. I'm here every day.”
Truthfully, he was rather glad that it was just the two of them in this library. Every other time he came, there would be this creepy blond guy sitting in the corner, reading some astronomy book. He was rather strange too. Meia would simply brush it off whenever Reid told her that the guy was reading upside down. The guy stayed for a long time too, even until she closed and as they were walking home, he could see his black limosine trailing behind them.
How strange it was for Meia to simply ignore it. But she seemed to know him, and if there was anything bad about him, Reid was sure that the sixteen-year-old would do something about it.
“Isn't your birthday coming up?” He asked.
Frowning at such a question, she looked up, answering with uncertainty: “I think so. Next Saturday, right?”
“So...” He swallowed, “You want to hang out then?”
“Sure!” She answered simply. Despite her calm appearance, Meia was galloping inside. Finally, after all the effort she put into tutoring this guy, she can finally go on a date with him. Suddenly she froze, “Actually...”
“You can't?” Reid's jaw dropped. Blushing, he picked up his books in a hurry, standing up from his seat as he grumbled: “It's alright. Another time then.”
“No, no! I mean...”
After ten minutes, the boy finally calmed down, listening to the story that Meia was narrating. Surely, if he was sane, he would have thought she was crazy. As a matter of fact, he was not thinking straight that day. Due to his untold reciprocating feelings for the older girl, he actually believed that there was a creepy rich stalker who was going to take Meia away on Saturday to some masquerade ball.
“I know, it's a bit unbelievable, but I don't lie.”
“No, no, I believe you. What should we do about it?”
“I don't know. I just felt that I should at least explain that to you before you start hating me.”
“So you don't hate me?”
“Although I never said that... no, I don't hate you.”
Reid smiled, flashing his pearly whites as he responded: “That's good. And just so you know, I don't hate you either.”
Minutes later, the brown-haired sophomore was out the door with another packet of chemistry tests to study for that night. Meia stayed behind, opening her new book with an idiotic smile on her face. For once, these strange love stories didn't seem so dumb.
“No way.”
“Come on! No one's going to think I stood you up or anything. I'll just be gone for one hour.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow at her, quite amazed that she has gathered the guts to talk during history class. Even while the teacher lectured monotonously to the unresponsive students, draped over their desks with drool streaming down from the corner of their lips, Meia was blatantly standing behind him, whispering in his ear. Nonetheless, the request was far too outrageous for him. Lucian Beaumont has never been known to bring a girlfriend to his mother's annual masquerade ball, since his escort every year has been Angeline, who would bluntly invite herself along on the day of so that he couldn't refuse.
“Everyone's going to be wondering why my girlfriend arrived at my mother's masquerade ball an hour late. It's going to be worse if they see you with some random kid with an ear piercing frolicking in the streets like poor people.”
“We're not going to be frolicking. We're just hanging out for an hour.”
“You do realize you don't have a choice in this matter, right?”
“Says who? Are you going to stop by my house before the party?”
“Now that you mention it, it's a great idea.”
“Not if you want to meet my mom.”
“Of course I want to meet your mother. It's only right that I meet the parent of my girlfriend.”
“Not until I meet yours.”
“You will meet my parents.” Passing the folder back to her, he whispered: “Memorize this.”
“What the hell is this?” She hissed, opening the folder to find details among details of facts that did not describe her. “What, do I look like I can ride a horse?”
Of course she didn't, Lucian wanted to say. He didn't want to write down in her job description that she was someone who worshiped books and do background checks on people who check out books from her library. Being in a family of equine breeders, the best job description for a potential girlfriend would be a horse breeder.
“I can teach you.”
“How about not?”
“You can come to my house this evening and learn how to ride horses. My mother and father are in Poland for the equine convention anyways. The servants can't speak English for that matter, nothing can go wrong.”
Nothing can go wrong? The ominous words echoed in Meia's head. Just like the words in a foreshadowing story. He's got to be kidding. Being on the backs of any living animals scared the hell out of her, much less riding it. She could break her head and die or something.
“Come on! No one's going to think I stood you up or anything. I'll just be gone for one hour.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow at her, quite amazed that she has gathered the guts to talk during history class. Even while the teacher lectured monotonously to the unresponsive students, draped over their desks with drool streaming down from the corner of their lips, Meia was blatantly standing behind him, whispering in his ear. Nonetheless, the request was far too outrageous for him. Lucian Beaumont has never been known to bring a girlfriend to his mother's annual masquerade ball, since his escort every year has been Angeline, who would bluntly invite herself along on the day of so that he couldn't refuse.
“Everyone's going to be wondering why my girlfriend arrived at my mother's masquerade ball an hour late. It's going to be worse if they see you with some random kid with an ear piercing frolicking in the streets like poor people.”
“We're not going to be frolicking. We're just hanging out for an hour.”
“You do realize you don't have a choice in this matter, right?”
“Says who? Are you going to stop by my house before the party?”
“Now that you mention it, it's a great idea.”
“Not if you want to meet my mom.”
“Of course I want to meet your mother. It's only right that I meet the parent of my girlfriend.”
“Not until I meet yours.”
“You will meet my parents.” Passing the folder back to her, he whispered: “Memorize this.”
“What the hell is this?” She hissed, opening the folder to find details among details of facts that did not describe her. “What, do I look like I can ride a horse?”
Of course she didn't, Lucian wanted to say. He didn't want to write down in her job description that she was someone who worshiped books and do background checks on people who check out books from her library. Being in a family of equine breeders, the best job description for a potential girlfriend would be a horse breeder.
“I can teach you.”
“How about not?”
“You can come to my house this evening and learn how to ride horses. My mother and father are in Poland for the equine convention anyways. The servants can't speak English for that matter, nothing can go wrong.”
Nothing can go wrong? The ominous words echoed in Meia's head. Just like the words in a foreshadowing story. He's got to be kidding. Being on the backs of any living animals scared the hell out of her, much less riding it. She could break her head and die or something.
“Here, give these to Charlene.”
“We're not supposed to feed the horses.”
“Why not?”
The dialogue was in Russian, between the blond sixteen-year-old and a group of servants standing out the stable. The girl frowned, pushing the bag of carrots to the servants once more as she said: “I'll reunite you with your family if you do this.”
Without another word, the servants obeyed, scurrying into the stables as Angeline walked off towards the house. Lucian and that girl should be coming home any minute now. She'll show her. How dare she blackmail Lucian into dating her and on top of that, being her escort to the masquerade ball? Angeline tried to do a background check on her, but came up with nothing but the ancestry of a poor family from islands that escaped during some civil war. Other than that, there didn't seem to be any way for the poor girl to blackmail Lucian.
Her blood boiled at the thought. There was no way for Lucian to fall for her either. Impossible was the possibility of a broken tradition that Lucian would arrive at the masquerade ball with someone else that was not her. She couldn't stand it! She has to rescue her prince!
“Are you done gawking? I'm quite uncomfortable that you're staring at my fourth grade picture. Normally during these presentations, guests would only spare ten to fifteen seconds per photos so they can move onto the next room.” Lucian's voice could be heard from just outside the balcony.
Angeline scurried to hide, peeking at the balcony from the horse stable. Glaring at the back of the girl who just came outside, she wished that her eyes were indeed made of daggers. Lucian has never taken anyone up to his room. Surely, he must be forced. Even the annoyed expression on his face said so. With his arms folded and back leaned against the railing, he rolled his eyes as the shorter girl's gaze shifted to him and back towards the photo on his wall.
Now he was beginning to regret taking her up to his room. Though Meia has claimed that it was only a fair price for making her learn how to ride a horse, he didn't realize that his mother had left the fourth grade photo of him laying on his desk. Hell he didn't even know when the woman had a chance to be in his room.
“Beaumont, you make a very beautiful Cinderella.”
“Thank you. Congratulations, you've just burned another two seconds of daylight by being the one third person to say that. Now let's go.”
“Wow, Beaumont. I had no idea that you knew how to be sarcastic.” Meia smirked, stealthily ruffling a handful of his hair as she followed him back inside.
Angeline followed the two to the stables, this time hiding behind the mansion and ducking when Meia suddenly turned over to look in her direction. The seventeen-year-old mingled outside while Lucian went inside. She could hear voices from inside the stable; Lucian appeared to be yelling at the servants for mingling inside of the stables. For a second, guilt pang at the palm-sized heart of the , but for the purpose of rescuing her prince, sacrifices had to be made.
“I didn't believe my mother stuttered at all when she warned you all to stay out of the stables. Consider it your final warning.” Lucian stated in fluent Russian as he exited the stables after the servants and ushered the black haired girl inside.
Twenty minutes later, the couple exited the stables, having done goodness knows what because it obviously didn't take that long to untie a couple of knots for two horses. Lucian emerged from the wooden stables with his prized amber stallion and following behind was a black shorter one, Charlene. The Beaumonts always used Charlene whenever coaching newcomers on how to ride a horse.
Even Angeline had her moments on that horse's back. This could be payback, she thought childishly, two birds with one stone. Meia frowned, while gripping tightly to the rope that was tied around the horse, mumbling something to Lucian about why it kept on shaking its head. The blond merely ignored her until they reached the field.
“Alright Meia. Just like we discussed a while ago, all you have to do is step on the saddle and lift yourself up.” Lucian explained, doing so in a flash.
Meia nodded, not making a move. She simply stared at him and shifted her gaze to the stallion beside her, dumbly shaking its head once more.
When Lucian returned the stare, she sighed. “Alright Charlene. Nice to meet you. Please don't kill me today.”
Turning towards the stallion, she raised her leg up slowly and latched it onto the saddle step. Shakily, she lifted herself up, thinking that for a person like herself who have never lifted a finger, she was on a roll. Once upon the back of the horse, she exhaled, waiting for the next instructions.
“Finally. Next lesson.” He said, approaching her. “To get the horse to move, all you have to do is give it a light nudge. Of course, to maneuver, you have to make use of your upper body to grip onto the leather tightly so that you don't fall. Well, before I go on, give her a quick nudge. She doesn't bite.”
A quick nudge, was it? Meia couldn't remember what else he might have said, any prefix or suffix to those three words. Maybe he meant a quick nudge of death. Before she could react, the “quick nudge” sent the horse jolting straight down the field. Oh, how she hung on for dear life. There was no possible way she could fall, not unless someone cut off Charlene's blasted head.
“MEIA!” Lucian's voice shouted behind her. “GIVE ME YOUR HAND!”
“SCREW YOU!” She screamed back, closing her eyes tightly.
“GIVE ME YOUR HAND! HURRY!” His voice, more distant, screamed once more.
“GO TO HELL BEAUMONT!” She cursed. Before she died, Meia wanted to at least curse out the fool who convinced her to learn how to ride a horse.
Suddenly, it felt like Charlene was getting faster, and before she knew it, Meia was flying in mid-air, facing the blue sky and falling to her death. Her life flashed before her eyes, and Meia was just about to do anything to get rid of those images of her sister putting bubble gum in her hair and her mom snipping away her precious shoulder length ebony strands. So, she shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the last image of her life.
“We're not supposed to feed the horses.”
“Why not?”
The dialogue was in Russian, between the blond sixteen-year-old and a group of servants standing out the stable. The girl frowned, pushing the bag of carrots to the servants once more as she said: “I'll reunite you with your family if you do this.”
Without another word, the servants obeyed, scurrying into the stables as Angeline walked off towards the house. Lucian and that girl should be coming home any minute now. She'll show her. How dare she blackmail Lucian into dating her and on top of that, being her escort to the masquerade ball? Angeline tried to do a background check on her, but came up with nothing but the ancestry of a poor family from islands that escaped during some civil war. Other than that, there didn't seem to be any way for the poor girl to blackmail Lucian.
Her blood boiled at the thought. There was no way for Lucian to fall for her either. Impossible was the possibility of a broken tradition that Lucian would arrive at the masquerade ball with someone else that was not her. She couldn't stand it! She has to rescue her prince!
“Are you done gawking? I'm quite uncomfortable that you're staring at my fourth grade picture. Normally during these presentations, guests would only spare ten to fifteen seconds per photos so they can move onto the next room.” Lucian's voice could be heard from just outside the balcony.
Angeline scurried to hide, peeking at the balcony from the horse stable. Glaring at the back of the girl who just came outside, she wished that her eyes were indeed made of daggers. Lucian has never taken anyone up to his room. Surely, he must be forced. Even the annoyed expression on his face said so. With his arms folded and back leaned against the railing, he rolled his eyes as the shorter girl's gaze shifted to him and back towards the photo on his wall.
Now he was beginning to regret taking her up to his room. Though Meia has claimed that it was only a fair price for making her learn how to ride a horse, he didn't realize that his mother had left the fourth grade photo of him laying on his desk. Hell he didn't even know when the woman had a chance to be in his room.
“Beaumont, you make a very beautiful Cinderella.”
“Thank you. Congratulations, you've just burned another two seconds of daylight by being the one third person to say that. Now let's go.”
“Wow, Beaumont. I had no idea that you knew how to be sarcastic.” Meia smirked, stealthily ruffling a handful of his hair as she followed him back inside.
Angeline followed the two to the stables, this time hiding behind the mansion and ducking when Meia suddenly turned over to look in her direction. The seventeen-year-old mingled outside while Lucian went inside. She could hear voices from inside the stable; Lucian appeared to be yelling at the servants for mingling inside of the stables. For a second, guilt pang at the palm-sized heart of the , but for the purpose of rescuing her prince, sacrifices had to be made.
“I didn't believe my mother stuttered at all when she warned you all to stay out of the stables. Consider it your final warning.” Lucian stated in fluent Russian as he exited the stables after the servants and ushered the black haired girl inside.
Twenty minutes later, the couple exited the stables, having done goodness knows what because it obviously didn't take that long to untie a couple of knots for two horses. Lucian emerged from the wooden stables with his prized amber stallion and following behind was a black shorter one, Charlene. The Beaumonts always used Charlene whenever coaching newcomers on how to ride a horse.
Even Angeline had her moments on that horse's back. This could be payback, she thought childishly, two birds with one stone. Meia frowned, while gripping tightly to the rope that was tied around the horse, mumbling something to Lucian about why it kept on shaking its head. The blond merely ignored her until they reached the field.
“Alright Meia. Just like we discussed a while ago, all you have to do is step on the saddle and lift yourself up.” Lucian explained, doing so in a flash.
Meia nodded, not making a move. She simply stared at him and shifted her gaze to the stallion beside her, dumbly shaking its head once more.
When Lucian returned the stare, she sighed. “Alright Charlene. Nice to meet you. Please don't kill me today.”
Turning towards the stallion, she raised her leg up slowly and latched it onto the saddle step. Shakily, she lifted herself up, thinking that for a person like herself who have never lifted a finger, she was on a roll. Once upon the back of the horse, she exhaled, waiting for the next instructions.
“Finally. Next lesson.” He said, approaching her. “To get the horse to move, all you have to do is give it a light nudge. Of course, to maneuver, you have to make use of your upper body to grip onto the leather tightly so that you don't fall. Well, before I go on, give her a quick nudge. She doesn't bite.”
A quick nudge, was it? Meia couldn't remember what else he might have said, any prefix or suffix to those three words. Maybe he meant a quick nudge of death. Before she could react, the “quick nudge” sent the horse jolting straight down the field. Oh, how she hung on for dear life. There was no possible way she could fall, not unless someone cut off Charlene's blasted head.
“MEIA!” Lucian's voice shouted behind her. “GIVE ME YOUR HAND!”
“SCREW YOU!” She screamed back, closing her eyes tightly.
“GIVE ME YOUR HAND! HURRY!” His voice, more distant, screamed once more.
“GO TO HELL BEAUMONT!” She cursed. Before she died, Meia wanted to at least curse out the fool who convinced her to learn how to ride a horse.
Suddenly, it felt like Charlene was getting faster, and before she knew it, Meia was flying in mid-air, facing the blue sky and falling to her death. Her life flashed before her eyes, and Meia was just about to do anything to get rid of those images of her sister putting bubble gum in her hair and her mom snipping away her precious shoulder length ebony strands. So, she shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the last image of her life.
“Go to hell, huh? Is that what you say to everyone who tries to save you from a steroid-crazy stallion?” Lucian's snide version of herself echoed in her ears.
The feeling of her brain being flipped like a sunny side up gradually came to a stop, allowing the seventeen-year-old to eventually come to terms with her death. Even when she's dead, she could still hear the voice of that snide little rich kid. How unfortunate. Is this heaven? Or hell? If it's heaven, it sure is a dark place. Then again, hell was never such a dark place from the descriptions in the bible she read during her craze with the world religion.
“Open your eyes, Meia, you're not the lightest person in the world.” What? The nerve of that spoiled prick! She opened her eyes, ready to give him a piece of her mind before she met with his annoyed blue eyes, staring into her own plain brown ones. Sighing, he continued: “I suppose that look on your face means that you're alright. Very well, I will set you down.”
When her feet touched the ground, she felt shaken and lost the desire to curse out the spoiled prick. Even then, Lucian grabbed onto her shoulder, supporting her as he snickered: “It looks like you're not so tough now, huh? I suppose this means that today we won't be able to finish with this lesson.”
“Now you want me to thank you, huh?”
“Not exactly. You just owe me a favor, that's all.”
“A favor? What do you want?”
“That's for me to know and you to wait until Saturday to find out.”
“You've suddenly become very bold, Beaumont. Are you looking for a beating?”
“Are you going to beat me up after I saved you? I suppose I should throw you back on that stallion's back to shut you up, huh?”
“What? You were the one bragging about how she's a prize winner when it comes to obedience. What the hell was that a while ago?”
If bystanders had been listening to the two, they would have thought that Meia was the immature one, being completely unaware of the past experience between the rich boy and the poor girl. Meia was already regretting this ‘lesson’ and was beginning to think that the blond was out to kill her, perhaps a lunatic just like his girlfriend. She’d rather be anywhere but near this guy. If he’s really a guy, that is. There were some suspicions flying about in her mind that might entail the possibility that he’s Angeline in disguise.
Beside that time when saw the two of them in school, she had only seen one without the other, but not both. Who knows? Maybe he drugged her and killed her and—what was she thinking? These crazy thoughts might have been from the fall and how the guy caught her. Meia was soon betting on the fact that he would then drug her and take advantage of her.
“Just from that look on your face, it is incredibly easy to tell what you’re thinking, Meia. Stop.” He said.
When did he get so witty? The last time he sounded witty was when he was trying to make light of the fact that she had implied rather inappropriate things about his sexuality after he pretended to take on the role of the boyfriend by talking to death a boy who cut in line in front of them. Of course, he eventually bought the kid off with money because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, but needless to say, Lucian Beaumont was looking incredibly different right now.
“Someone gave her steroids. And if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, we’re probably both right.” He said as they sat down on the couch after he ordered someone to wrap her leg up.
Meia actually felt fine, but he insisted that he should also convince his servants that he was a formidable mate—not that it’d matter when he picked up the tissue with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, allowing his remaining fingers to hover in an oh-so-manly way when he picked up the clean bandage.
She stared at him before a second before the answer popped up in her head, transferred to her through some form of creepy telepathy that she has created with this rich kid.
“Angeline.”
Thus, this eventful event has proven to be the very embodiment of the term: “enemy of thy enemy.”
The feeling of her brain being flipped like a sunny side up gradually came to a stop, allowing the seventeen-year-old to eventually come to terms with her death. Even when she's dead, she could still hear the voice of that snide little rich kid. How unfortunate. Is this heaven? Or hell? If it's heaven, it sure is a dark place. Then again, hell was never such a dark place from the descriptions in the bible she read during her craze with the world religion.
“Open your eyes, Meia, you're not the lightest person in the world.” What? The nerve of that spoiled prick! She opened her eyes, ready to give him a piece of her mind before she met with his annoyed blue eyes, staring into her own plain brown ones. Sighing, he continued: “I suppose that look on your face means that you're alright. Very well, I will set you down.”
When her feet touched the ground, she felt shaken and lost the desire to curse out the spoiled prick. Even then, Lucian grabbed onto her shoulder, supporting her as he snickered: “It looks like you're not so tough now, huh? I suppose this means that today we won't be able to finish with this lesson.”
“Now you want me to thank you, huh?”
“Not exactly. You just owe me a favor, that's all.”
“A favor? What do you want?”
“That's for me to know and you to wait until Saturday to find out.”
“You've suddenly become very bold, Beaumont. Are you looking for a beating?”
“Are you going to beat me up after I saved you? I suppose I should throw you back on that stallion's back to shut you up, huh?”
“What? You were the one bragging about how she's a prize winner when it comes to obedience. What the hell was that a while ago?”
If bystanders had been listening to the two, they would have thought that Meia was the immature one, being completely unaware of the past experience between the rich boy and the poor girl. Meia was already regretting this ‘lesson’ and was beginning to think that the blond was out to kill her, perhaps a lunatic just like his girlfriend. She’d rather be anywhere but near this guy. If he’s really a guy, that is. There were some suspicions flying about in her mind that might entail the possibility that he’s Angeline in disguise.
Beside that time when saw the two of them in school, she had only seen one without the other, but not both. Who knows? Maybe he drugged her and killed her and—what was she thinking? These crazy thoughts might have been from the fall and how the guy caught her. Meia was soon betting on the fact that he would then drug her and take advantage of her.
“Just from that look on your face, it is incredibly easy to tell what you’re thinking, Meia. Stop.” He said.
When did he get so witty? The last time he sounded witty was when he was trying to make light of the fact that she had implied rather inappropriate things about his sexuality after he pretended to take on the role of the boyfriend by talking to death a boy who cut in line in front of them. Of course, he eventually bought the kid off with money because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, but needless to say, Lucian Beaumont was looking incredibly different right now.
“Someone gave her steroids. And if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, we’re probably both right.” He said as they sat down on the couch after he ordered someone to wrap her leg up.
Meia actually felt fine, but he insisted that he should also convince his servants that he was a formidable mate—not that it’d matter when he picked up the tissue with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, allowing his remaining fingers to hover in an oh-so-manly way when he picked up the clean bandage.
She stared at him before a second before the answer popped up in her head, transferred to her through some form of creepy telepathy that she has created with this rich kid.
“Angeline.”
Thus, this eventful event has proven to be the very embodiment of the term: “enemy of thy enemy.”
After perhaps the four worst days of her life, Meia has finally gotten the hang of riding a horse; well, more like, sitting on it without falling as it trudged along slowly. To hide her awkward limp from falling just yesterday—due to a miserable attempt to nudge the horse into running—she stood in the back while Lucian visited with all the other snobby kids of his own kind. Why was she here anyways? As soon as they arrived, he left her to stand in the corner while he chatted along with his circle of worshippers—possibly those who will murder him in the future for his money, from what she had heard in school from a dubious girl who seemed to know everything about him. His mother and father has yet to arrive to the masquerade, and for the first time in her life, Meia felt nervous. She wasn’t even truly dating the guy and yet she was worried about rejection by his mother.
Brushing at her silk dress, she let her eyes wandered around the room once more, looking past Angeline who was staring at her through the red of the punch that she seemed to have been drinking for the past half hour, looking past Lucian who occasionally glanced at her to make sure she wouldn’t wander off and talk to suspicious people, and looking past the guy who had been staring at her for the entire time she was there. The dress she had gotten that morning did not actually fit her—as Lucian learned from discovering what amazing metabolism she has after losing weight from four days of horse riding. As if Meia needed to lose more weight.
“You seem to be lonely.” A voice spoke.
When she turned around, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The silver mask that covered his face didn’t do much to disguise who he was. As a matter of fact, if it had covered his entire face, she still would have recognized his green eyes and the dark brown spikes that he wore.
“Reid?”
“Nice guess.”
Brushing at her silk dress, she let her eyes wandered around the room once more, looking past Angeline who was staring at her through the red of the punch that she seemed to have been drinking for the past half hour, looking past Lucian who occasionally glanced at her to make sure she wouldn’t wander off and talk to suspicious people, and looking past the guy who had been staring at her for the entire time she was there. The dress she had gotten that morning did not actually fit her—as Lucian learned from discovering what amazing metabolism she has after losing weight from four days of horse riding. As if Meia needed to lose more weight.
“You seem to be lonely.” A voice spoke.
When she turned around, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The silver mask that covered his face didn’t do much to disguise who he was. As a matter of fact, if it had covered his entire face, she still would have recognized his green eyes and the dark brown spikes that he wore.
“Reid?”
“Nice guess.”
Chapter Six: Cinderella and Prince Un-Charming
…As soon as they stepped into the carriage after the dreadful wedding ceremony, Cinderella learned that her husband was definitely NOT Prince Charming but that he was his evil twin.
“So you’re saying that you’re not Reid, the sophomore who attends Weyward Academy.”
“Of course not. Why would I be attending such an unfamiliar academy? Surely anyone would know—wait a minute, who are you? I’ve never seen you at any of the social outings.”
“Social outings? Really? People still call it that nowadays?” Meia laughed, both at the poor attempt the boy her junior was making to trick her and the vocabulary.
“What are you guys talking about?” Lucian’s voice interrupted as he cut in between them, smiling nonchalantly.
The masked “stranger” returned the smile and responded: “Oh nothing, Ms…”
“Meia.”
“Meia…” The stranger waited.
“That’s her name.” Lucian spoke, not giving the girl a chance to give out her last name.
“Ah, alright then. Ms. Meia had mistaken for a close friend of hers and we were about to dwell upon the subject of prevailing vocabulary of the higher classes.”
Meia laughed, knowing full well that the blond probably didn’t understand what he was saying: “Yea, that’s right, um…”
“Taylor.” Lucian quickly responded, drawing a chuckle from the stranger who shook his head.
A smile of amusement danced on Meia’s lips. “Taylor. Really now?”
Lucian stared at them suspiciously and before he could get a chance to voice his suspicion in a subtle manner, someone had called his name. How dared they, he growled inwardly. Leaning down to Meia’s shoulder, he touched it lightly before muttering: “Be careful of this guy.”
“Now that he’s gone,” Taylor chuckled, “We should return to the real conversation.”
“Did you follow me here, Reid?”
“Reid? Who is that? Who is this Reid fellow?”
“Don’t lie, I know it’s you.”
“I’m sorry, miss, I’m afraid you’re deathly mistaken. Do you usually address strangers this way?””
“Now you’re talking back to me?”
“Not at all. I was merely responding to your accusation.”
Deciding that this conversation would be the death of her, Meia decided to take another approach. After diverging from the subject at hand, they started to talk about the subject that had earlier interrupted their conversation. It didn’t matter to the teenage girl though, when did Lucian not become a concern in her life? Surely she has made the wrong decision in thinking that she would win the challenge of… whatever it was at the beginning, thinking that he wouldn’t be able to control her. Of course, it’s not as though that had changed any; it only became even more annoying now that they’re with each other during a large part of the day. The only time of the day she even finds peace is… well, her library.
“Would you like a drink?” Taylor asked, gesturing to the punch bowl where Angeline stood guarded.
“Sure, but well, I probably shouldn’t go over there.” She responded, eyeing the creature who was STILL glaring at her from the red punch bowl.
Taylor, being the gentleman that he is, kindly suggested that he would do so for her: “Here. I will go get them. Don’t get into any conversations with any other strangers before I get back with our drinks.”
Taking the perfect opportunity, Meia reached for her cell phone, determined to confirm the identity of her mystery. Before she could do so, a hand roughly grabbed at her shoulder, pulling her against a hard chest: Lucian’s. His glare was perhaps the epitome of glares that belonged of chauvinists who thought their woman was being taken away from them. Silly Lucian.
“What do you want?”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, I’ve got my phone out. I suppose the next logical thing to do is dial.”
“Are you trying to embarrass me at this party?”
“The only embarrassing person here is you!”
As a couple walked past, Lucian smiled mildly, draping an arm over his ‘would-be’ girlfriend as they started off towards the balcony. By then, Taylor was making his way back to the spot where he had left Meia only to find her gone. Sighing, he began drinking, finding utmost sorrow in the vainness of his efforts to wrestle the ladle away from the girl who had been standing by the punch bowl, insisting that he’d put a suspicious-looking white pill into the cup which he intended for Meia. Instead, he had gotten away with two clean cups, safe from the adulteration of whatever drugs the Russian girl was about to give him.
Either way, he probably had to go home soon. His efforts to get into the party had been wasted by the spoiled rich boy who had taken his target from him. Unfortunately, it will have to wait until another day.
“So you’re saying that you’re not Reid, the sophomore who attends Weyward Academy.”
“Of course not. Why would I be attending such an unfamiliar academy? Surely anyone would know—wait a minute, who are you? I’ve never seen you at any of the social outings.”
“Social outings? Really? People still call it that nowadays?” Meia laughed, both at the poor attempt the boy her junior was making to trick her and the vocabulary.
“What are you guys talking about?” Lucian’s voice interrupted as he cut in between them, smiling nonchalantly.
The masked “stranger” returned the smile and responded: “Oh nothing, Ms…”
“Meia.”
“Meia…” The stranger waited.
“That’s her name.” Lucian spoke, not giving the girl a chance to give out her last name.
“Ah, alright then. Ms. Meia had mistaken for a close friend of hers and we were about to dwell upon the subject of prevailing vocabulary of the higher classes.”
Meia laughed, knowing full well that the blond probably didn’t understand what he was saying: “Yea, that’s right, um…”
“Taylor.” Lucian quickly responded, drawing a chuckle from the stranger who shook his head.
A smile of amusement danced on Meia’s lips. “Taylor. Really now?”
Lucian stared at them suspiciously and before he could get a chance to voice his suspicion in a subtle manner, someone had called his name. How dared they, he growled inwardly. Leaning down to Meia’s shoulder, he touched it lightly before muttering: “Be careful of this guy.”
“Now that he’s gone,” Taylor chuckled, “We should return to the real conversation.”
“Did you follow me here, Reid?”
“Reid? Who is that? Who is this Reid fellow?”
“Don’t lie, I know it’s you.”
“I’m sorry, miss, I’m afraid you’re deathly mistaken. Do you usually address strangers this way?””
“Now you’re talking back to me?”
“Not at all. I was merely responding to your accusation.”
Deciding that this conversation would be the death of her, Meia decided to take another approach. After diverging from the subject at hand, they started to talk about the subject that had earlier interrupted their conversation. It didn’t matter to the teenage girl though, when did Lucian not become a concern in her life? Surely she has made the wrong decision in thinking that she would win the challenge of… whatever it was at the beginning, thinking that he wouldn’t be able to control her. Of course, it’s not as though that had changed any; it only became even more annoying now that they’re with each other during a large part of the day. The only time of the day she even finds peace is… well, her library.
“Would you like a drink?” Taylor asked, gesturing to the punch bowl where Angeline stood guarded.
“Sure, but well, I probably shouldn’t go over there.” She responded, eyeing the creature who was STILL glaring at her from the red punch bowl.
Taylor, being the gentleman that he is, kindly suggested that he would do so for her: “Here. I will go get them. Don’t get into any conversations with any other strangers before I get back with our drinks.”
Taking the perfect opportunity, Meia reached for her cell phone, determined to confirm the identity of her mystery. Before she could do so, a hand roughly grabbed at her shoulder, pulling her against a hard chest: Lucian’s. His glare was perhaps the epitome of glares that belonged of chauvinists who thought their woman was being taken away from them. Silly Lucian.
“What do you want?”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, I’ve got my phone out. I suppose the next logical thing to do is dial.”
“Are you trying to embarrass me at this party?”
“The only embarrassing person here is you!”
As a couple walked past, Lucian smiled mildly, draping an arm over his ‘would-be’ girlfriend as they started off towards the balcony. By then, Taylor was making his way back to the spot where he had left Meia only to find her gone. Sighing, he began drinking, finding utmost sorrow in the vainness of his efforts to wrestle the ladle away from the girl who had been standing by the punch bowl, insisting that he’d put a suspicious-looking white pill into the cup which he intended for Meia. Instead, he had gotten away with two clean cups, safe from the adulteration of whatever drugs the Russian girl was about to give him.
Either way, he probably had to go home soon. His efforts to get into the party had been wasted by the spoiled rich boy who had taken his target from him. Unfortunately, it will have to wait until another day.
Typically, balconies are used as a device for which the heroine will stand, waiting for her beloved to proclaim his desire to marry her and live a happily ever after. For instance, Romeo, the serenading teen who was wailing to Juliet all night, eventually got his happy ending—at least, for a while—after using his oh-so-persuasive techniques. That, of course, ended miserably when he failed to receive the message Juliet sent him about the poison.
Doomed lovers? Not so much. Miscommunication? Agreed. Shakespeare was one messed up—Anywho…
Then found amongst the many versions of Cinderella—added for the effects of romance and perhaps, excess poison to the developing minds of little girls—would be another balcony. The moment before Cinderella escapes the ball and returns to her unfulfilling life until her prince finds her, they flirt on a balcony. As for Beauty and the Beast? Well, enough said.
Unlike these love stories and fairy tales, our hero and heroine decided to take the smart road, unknowingly, but nonetheless. Instead of flirting upon the first meeting or wailing to each other after what one would call ‘love at first sight,’ one would find Meia and Lucian doing… well, what they normally do. The bickering voices, fortunately, did not draw the ears of curious bystanders who were off in their own world, gazing at the lighted garden as though the world were to end the very next day.
“Beaumont, you’ve failed to notice the following, and I have been repeating it for so many times now: I was not flirting with him.”
“Do not try to deny it, woman. You two were smiling like idiots.”
“Yes, and that makes it flirting? What are you? A chauvinist?”
Lucian scoffed indignantly, determined not to let the fight end the way it normally would: “I am not a chauvinist. I am merely reminding you of where you are. Mind you, the guests at this party are of high status and will find scandal in just about anything. And if you do anything to threaten my family’s reputation--”
“Since when do you remind me of where I am? Who do YOU think you are, Beaumont?” Before he could answer, she held her hand up, hissing softly: “I don’t need your answer. I’m leaving.”
Doomed lovers? Not so much. Miscommunication? Agreed. Shakespeare was one messed up—Anywho…
Then found amongst the many versions of Cinderella—added for the effects of romance and perhaps, excess poison to the developing minds of little girls—would be another balcony. The moment before Cinderella escapes the ball and returns to her unfulfilling life until her prince finds her, they flirt on a balcony. As for Beauty and the Beast? Well, enough said.
Unlike these love stories and fairy tales, our hero and heroine decided to take the smart road, unknowingly, but nonetheless. Instead of flirting upon the first meeting or wailing to each other after what one would call ‘love at first sight,’ one would find Meia and Lucian doing… well, what they normally do. The bickering voices, fortunately, did not draw the ears of curious bystanders who were off in their own world, gazing at the lighted garden as though the world were to end the very next day.
“Beaumont, you’ve failed to notice the following, and I have been repeating it for so many times now: I was not flirting with him.”
“Do not try to deny it, woman. You two were smiling like idiots.”
“Yes, and that makes it flirting? What are you? A chauvinist?”
Lucian scoffed indignantly, determined not to let the fight end the way it normally would: “I am not a chauvinist. I am merely reminding you of where you are. Mind you, the guests at this party are of high status and will find scandal in just about anything. And if you do anything to threaten my family’s reputation--”
“Since when do you remind me of where I am? Who do YOU think you are, Beaumont?” Before he could answer, she held her hand up, hissing softly: “I don’t need your answer. I’m leaving.”
“Meia. We need to talk.” She’s been staring at that text message for almost half a day. Ever since he sent it that morning, she ignored it. Even the incessant phone call that would not stop until she turned it off.
Whatever efforts exerted by the spoil rich kid was put to waste when Meia decided that it was a perfectly fine day to walk to school, save the thunder and pouring rain. Most men would be able to drag his beloved into the car and drive her to school. Not Lucian Beaumont. He immediately gave up after his first attempted was foiled.
The moment he touched her arm, Meia had her scissor handy, threatening to clip off the ivory cuffs on his school uniform. She did not even bother to glare at him, as though it was simply a waste of her energy. Even during class she was ignoring him after he took the effort to stand up and talk to her while the teacher had his back turned towards them.
“Meia, you have to talk to me sometimes.”
Because he said that, Meia found every possible way not to talk to him during school. Even during their advanced chemistry lab, she managed to simply write every single instruction down for him to follow while she collected the data, far from a communicable distance. The girl was frustratingly annoying.
“My mother was sorely disappointed that you left without meeting her.”
“Is she now? I’m sure you can find another person to be your girlfriend.”
“Well, why would I want another person? You are the perfect candidate.”
For a split second, both of them froze. Lucian nearly slapped a hand over his own mouth at what he said, it was damn near embarrassing to reveal his feelings in public, much less to a girl who might misunderstand his intentions. He was nowhere close to feeling any type of romantic affections towards Meia. She was not as attractive as most of the girls he’d come in contact with—at least, at school where there are tons of girls with similar backgrounds and raised in an environment where they’re naturally expected to be beautiful. She was rude and annoying whenever she spoke to him, lacking in even the basic type of manners, and yet, strangely enough, whenever she talked to that Reid guy—well, he was not going to dwell over it.
He needed a girlfriend to fight off Angeline.
“My dear Meia. Come back to me.”
“Keep dreaming, Beaumont.”
“I will, my dear Meia!” He shouted after her as she left the classroom, giving a half-hearted wave.
Whatever efforts exerted by the spoil rich kid was put to waste when Meia decided that it was a perfectly fine day to walk to school, save the thunder and pouring rain. Most men would be able to drag his beloved into the car and drive her to school. Not Lucian Beaumont. He immediately gave up after his first attempted was foiled.
The moment he touched her arm, Meia had her scissor handy, threatening to clip off the ivory cuffs on his school uniform. She did not even bother to glare at him, as though it was simply a waste of her energy. Even during class she was ignoring him after he took the effort to stand up and talk to her while the teacher had his back turned towards them.
“Meia, you have to talk to me sometimes.”
Because he said that, Meia found every possible way not to talk to him during school. Even during their advanced chemistry lab, she managed to simply write every single instruction down for him to follow while she collected the data, far from a communicable distance. The girl was frustratingly annoying.
“My mother was sorely disappointed that you left without meeting her.”
“Is she now? I’m sure you can find another person to be your girlfriend.”
“Well, why would I want another person? You are the perfect candidate.”
For a split second, both of them froze. Lucian nearly slapped a hand over his own mouth at what he said, it was damn near embarrassing to reveal his feelings in public, much less to a girl who might misunderstand his intentions. He was nowhere close to feeling any type of romantic affections towards Meia. She was not as attractive as most of the girls he’d come in contact with—at least, at school where there are tons of girls with similar backgrounds and raised in an environment where they’re naturally expected to be beautiful. She was rude and annoying whenever she spoke to him, lacking in even the basic type of manners, and yet, strangely enough, whenever she talked to that Reid guy—well, he was not going to dwell over it.
He needed a girlfriend to fight off Angeline.
“My dear Meia. Come back to me.”
“Keep dreaming, Beaumont.”
“I will, my dear Meia!” He shouted after her as she left the classroom, giving a half-hearted wave.
“Lucian, why is it that I have yet to meet your girlfriend? Even Francesca here says she has.” Celeste Beaumont commented in the middle of dinner. “Could it be that she—“
“Of course not, mother. Meia was incredibly nervous about meeting you and at the last minute, it seems that an emergency came up at home and she had to leave. She was incredibly sorry about it. Do forgive her.” Lucian responded, wondering what Meia’s response to his excuse for her would be.
“Well of course I forgive her. Any girl that my son has the guts to bring home... surely, she must be something incredible. Bring her in for dinner next week, will you? I will be here until next month. The fashion show is delayed due to some nitwit’s expertise of planning.”
Next week for dinner? Lucian wasn’t even sure if he could get Meia to talk to him again in the next month. The girl was being stubborn. If he had to get desperate, she might force him to get some other random person to be her.
“Father, I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go next week, do you?”
“I’m afraid I can’t stay to meet the special girl, son.”
“Come on, Rex, do stay. It’s not everyday a girl comes over to the house for dinner.”
She had no idea. The week that she and his father had stayed away, Lucian made sure Meia learned how to ride a horse. Surely the girl is more adept than the average trainer and rider.
“Of course not, mother. Meia was incredibly nervous about meeting you and at the last minute, it seems that an emergency came up at home and she had to leave. She was incredibly sorry about it. Do forgive her.” Lucian responded, wondering what Meia’s response to his excuse for her would be.
“Well of course I forgive her. Any girl that my son has the guts to bring home... surely, she must be something incredible. Bring her in for dinner next week, will you? I will be here until next month. The fashion show is delayed due to some nitwit’s expertise of planning.”
Next week for dinner? Lucian wasn’t even sure if he could get Meia to talk to him again in the next month. The girl was being stubborn. If he had to get desperate, she might force him to get some other random person to be her.
“Father, I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go next week, do you?”
“I’m afraid I can’t stay to meet the special girl, son.”
“Come on, Rex, do stay. It’s not everyday a girl comes over to the house for dinner.”
She had no idea. The week that she and his father had stayed away, Lucian made sure Meia learned how to ride a horse. Surely the girl is more adept than the average trainer and rider.
“My mother wants you over for dinner.”
“NO.”
She didn’t actually say the words to him. The screeching of the black marker followed by the public display of the word “NO” in capital letter was enough to project her rejection for him. It was literally the fifth time in the same week, and he had to have her over for dinner today. If anyone knew Lucian, he didn’t like to take such a word for an answer; as a matter of fact, it didn’t exist in his dictionary. Whatever dictionary he might have acquired growing up had literally been missing the word “no” along with any other word that was supposed to appear on the same page.
Nonetheless, Meia didn’t hesitate to let him know what she thought. Lucian didn’t mind letting her know what he thought either. So he took the liberty of waiting for her after school. He had his bodyguards wait outside the school so they could give her a little ‘help’ to get into the car. He cringed when he heard the loud scream from outside the car. Surely this must have been illegal in some parts of England. No one would do anything though, this was a prep school. No rich kid would be spoiled enough to try and save her. Only someone like Meia would do that; oh wait, she’s already captured.
If glares could kill, he would be dead before she entered the car. Despite how far the seats across from him were in the limosine, she still managed to kick him and smear his new khaki pants as she got in. It was only too late when Lucian looked up from examining his precious pants while crying inside that the bodyguards had stupidly left the two of them in the car together as they sat in the front.
“YOU PRICK!” Screamed the girl as she hurled herself at him.
“MEIA! MEIA! CALM DOWN!”
She had her nails on his threads so fast that Lucian was about to cry. He had never had so many items to clothing threatened in one day.
“The deal is off, you effing prick! IT IS OFF, DO YOU HEAR ME?”
She was so angry. Lucian wanted to pee in his pants. Her face contorted into such anger and flushed with such a shade of red that he didn’t want to stick around. Instead of staying within a one-foot radius for her to kill him, he backed away slowly, holding out his arms defensively in case she wanted to lounge at him again. Meia inhaled and exhaled heavily; he could have sworn he heard her counting under her breath.
Finally when it seemed like her breathing had calmed down completely, Lucian cleared his throat silently, trying to think of the perfect way to say what he wanted to say. Instead of actually thinking, the words just came out:
“Meia... my mother wants you over for dinner.”
“NO.”
She didn’t actually say the words to him. The screeching of the black marker followed by the public display of the word “NO” in capital letter was enough to project her rejection for him. It was literally the fifth time in the same week, and he had to have her over for dinner today. If anyone knew Lucian, he didn’t like to take such a word for an answer; as a matter of fact, it didn’t exist in his dictionary. Whatever dictionary he might have acquired growing up had literally been missing the word “no” along with any other word that was supposed to appear on the same page.
Nonetheless, Meia didn’t hesitate to let him know what she thought. Lucian didn’t mind letting her know what he thought either. So he took the liberty of waiting for her after school. He had his bodyguards wait outside the school so they could give her a little ‘help’ to get into the car. He cringed when he heard the loud scream from outside the car. Surely this must have been illegal in some parts of England. No one would do anything though, this was a prep school. No rich kid would be spoiled enough to try and save her. Only someone like Meia would do that; oh wait, she’s already captured.
If glares could kill, he would be dead before she entered the car. Despite how far the seats across from him were in the limosine, she still managed to kick him and smear his new khaki pants as she got in. It was only too late when Lucian looked up from examining his precious pants while crying inside that the bodyguards had stupidly left the two of them in the car together as they sat in the front.
“YOU PRICK!” Screamed the girl as she hurled herself at him.
“MEIA! MEIA! CALM DOWN!”
She had her nails on his threads so fast that Lucian was about to cry. He had never had so many items to clothing threatened in one day.
“The deal is off, you effing prick! IT IS OFF, DO YOU HEAR ME?”
She was so angry. Lucian wanted to pee in his pants. Her face contorted into such anger and flushed with such a shade of red that he didn’t want to stick around. Instead of staying within a one-foot radius for her to kill him, he backed away slowly, holding out his arms defensively in case she wanted to lounge at him again. Meia inhaled and exhaled heavily; he could have sworn he heard her counting under her breath.
Finally when it seemed like her breathing had calmed down completely, Lucian cleared his throat silently, trying to think of the perfect way to say what he wanted to say. Instead of actually thinking, the words just came out:
“Meia... my mother wants you over for dinner.”