The Mystical (Mr.Cool) Adventures of Patrick Swayzee

CHAPTER FIVE : PRINN ROSES

CHAPTER FIVE : PRINN ROSES

'If you do not give me that sketchbook by the count of three Mom, I SWEAR.' cried Belle.

Her mother hid the book behind her back and gave her a scolding look. Belle lunged for it and fell to the ground with a thud. 

'You have responsibilities, Belladonna Whitmore. And it is not until they have been fulfilled that you will get this back.' her mother marched up the stairs and tossed a broom in front of Belle.

'Get to it,' she sang

‘I'll be keeping this' she waved the book in front of Belle’s face 'somewhere that you can't find it.'

Then she finished the stairs with her nose in the air. 

Belle smiled. She'd be getting that book back when her mother left; she knew exactly where she'd hide it. So, she swept up the kitchen, biding her time. She dusted the mantle waiting for her Mum to come back down stairs and say “I’m going to Arties’. I'll be back before the moon is out".

 

Arties was her mother’s very best friend. He had been since school. Belle liked Arties; he was gentle and had a soft, deep voice that was easy to listen to. What she loved most about him was his art. His paintings lay in every corner of his apartment; all unfinished. She could spend hours watching the lines flow together, weaving between one another. Time and time again she'd tried to paint like him but she could never get the lines just right. Crumpled up papers lay all over her bedroom floor and filling the dustbin up to the brim. 

"Belle, I’m going to Arties'. I'll-" 

‘-be back before the moon is out blah, blah, blah.  Have fun Mum.'

Her mum rolled her eyes. She kissed Belle on the forehead and left the house with a click of the lock.  Belle waited for the sound of the car starting before she tore up the stairs and retrieved her sketchbook. 

 'What to draw, what to draw.. .’ she pondered.

Then it hit her. That goofy boy from the library!  She would draw him. She pulled the pencil out from her bun and her hair came tumbling down in blonde waves.

    

     The spaghetti twisted around the fork as Toast stared blankly at Prinn's bracelet. She was rambling on in that squeaky voice. About what, Toast did not know. He had tuned out about half an hour ago when the conversation had turned from her favourite pair of jeans to her cat (Penelope).  The boredom was seeping into his skin as the clock on the restaurant wall ticked slower and slower like it was rusting before his eyes.  He knew he should be listening and that it was rude to play with his food with his elbows on the table, but he just couldn't muster the focus to listen to this. 

 '-squeak, squeak, squeak, it was covered in pink icing! And Balloons. It was the best tenth birthday ever. And Maggie was there and I haven't seen Maggie in weeks. She used to do this little thing with her nose where she'd wiggle it and it would look like a bunny. OH MY GOODNESS BUNNIES. I HAD A BUNNIE ONCE but it died when I was on vacation with my-'

 

'Prinn!' said Toast in an exasperated voice. 

She blinked at him wildly. He realized that he had thrown his fork across the table, still covered in noodles and thick red sauce, and was now dangling at the edge. He cleared his voice and mumbled an apology as he retrieved it. He resumed eating with out making a sound, and this time, without even looking up from his plate.

 

      He walked her home after the tedious evening, but it seemed that she had enjoyed herself.  He led her up the path to her door. He reached up to ring the door bell, but she caught him by the wrist. When he looked at her, she looked edgy. She noticed the concern on his face, so she smiled and giggled quietly.