The Ice Princess

Chapter 5

He let go of me and I turned to face this idiot.

"Isabelle?!"

"Carter?!" I whisper-shouted, bewildered.

"My god, I thought you were a burglar!" Carter Azlord ran a hand through his disheveled hair, which made my stupid teenage hormones go crazy. Why does this guy have to be so...so?!

"Who would burglarize this place?" I gestured outside the window. "They're all terrified of the queen."

"Good point," he said. "Sit down for a moment."

"Uh...sure," I sat down on the edge of the bed.

"So..." Carter started. "Why exactly were you climbing up my balcony?" So this was his room.

"I...was visiting a family down there that was celebrating a child's birthday," I answered truthfully.

"Oh. And the queen knows?"

"Absolutely not."

"Breaking the rules, I see," he teased. "That's not in the book of Princess Etiquette."

I punched his arm playfully.

"That wasn't, either." He continued to tease me.

"Shut up," I laughed.

"Can you hold out your palm?"

I was so taken aback by the random question that I froze.

"What?"

"I want to see the Mark," Carter said oh-so casually.

I nodded my head in understanding. "Alright."

I held out my palm and willed the Mark to appear. The image of a crown glittered and sparkled.

Carter took my hand to inspect the Mark, and I blushed at his hand touching mine.

When he finished, he just nodded.

He suddenly burst out, "Speed test. Answer this in thirty seconds or I'll throw you back into the moat."

"Wait, what?" I shouted.

"What's your favorite word? Favorite smell? Favorite food?" He started timing me.

I quickly searched my brain for answers, and my mouth immediately started working.

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, I guess lavender? Chamomile. And Ice cream."

"Supercalifragi - whatever?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"19 seconds."

I grinned smugly.

"Well, mine are: Never, the smell of fresh cookies, and cookies."

"Never?"

"Hey, don't question my choice of words," he wagged his finger at me.

"You questioned mine!" I retorted.

"Next. Thirty seconds. Favorite color? Favorite pet? Favorite number and why? First kiss?"

I thought the "first kiss" was a bit personal but who really cares.

"Blue. Puppy. Twelve, because it's my volleyball jersey number. None."

Carter looked surprised at my answer. "No first kiss yet?"

"Nope, and I'm not ashamed of that," I smiled.

"Well, mine are: Pink, parrot, 14 because that's my birthday, and a girl named Trish."

"Oh, okay. Wait, pink?" I said unbelievingly.

"Unbelievable?"

"Not quite, since you're a boy," I said.

"That's a bit sexist, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You're right, sorry."

I looked at my watch, and said, "I really need to get back to my room. See you."

Carter walked me to the door, but I tripped on a couple of books lying around and I grasped the air, looking for something to hold on.

Carter grabbed my waist and turned us around, so that he's the one to land on the floor.

I opened my eyes, and I gasped at the close proximity of our faces. A few inches more and I'll be kissing him.

We just laid there, staring deep into each other's eyes. Some sort of force magnetized the two of us. I could tell he was as unsure As I was. Who kisses a guy they practically just met? Despite all the doubts that lined my mind, my gaze traveled to his lips, and I let his lips travel closer to mine and, both unsure, both caught up, both basically strangers, but both feeling something, closed the gap.

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Terribly short, I apologize.