The Prince and the Punk [EDITING]

Chapter 5

"I'll see you soon, then."

"Bye." I wave as he leaves, wondering why my heart is beating so fast.

The next day, since I don't have to work, I decide I want to go dress shopping.

I text Danny: Can I come over?

I make it to his door before he responds. Bored, I lean against the wall and tap my foot. Several minutes later, his door swings open and a messy-haired Hispanic boy steps out. He seems surprised to see me.

"Is Danny in there?" I ask, craning my neck to see past him into the apartment.

"Uh, yeah," he says, sliding past me to leave.

I poke my head in the doorway. "Hey, Danny!" I shout

"Janice?" he replies. "I just got your text—"

"You wanna take me dress shopping?"

"Do I?!" He emerges from the bedroom and does a double take when he sees me. "What happened to your eye?"

Ah, shit.

"It's nothing," I dismiss.

"Nothing, my ass—you got assaulted again."

"Yeah, it's fine," I say quickly. "And I did the whole tears-and-sympathy thing yesterday, so can we drop it and buy a dress?"

"Sure."

"Cool, let's go," I order, leaning against the doorway and waiting for Danny to hurry his ass up. When he's finally ready to leave, we catch a bus into the city.

"So," I begin as we sit down, "who'd I see leaving your place?"

"Oh, that was just Rodrigo," he says calmly, but on the outside he's blushing a little. "He lives down the hall and I'm teaching him English."

"A Spanish lover?" I tease in a truly awful accent.

"A Venezuelan pupil."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. Teach me harder, Señor!" I let out an exaggerated moan, earning glares from people on the bus.

Danny blanches and elbows me as I laugh.

"Janice, that was mortifying. And nothing happened, I swear."

"Mm-hmm." I scoot closer and whisper, "Seriously, though, it sounds like the perfect setup for a—"

"So hey," he says, changing the subject. "What's with the dress? You're not a dress girl."

I take the golden invitation out of my pocket and show it to Danny with a smirk. He reaches for it, gaping, but I slap his hand away. "No touchy."

"Well, what the—where the hell did you get that?" he asks excitedly.

"His Highness Prince Xavier Cullen delivered it to me personally earlier today," I say smugly, placing the invitation carefully back in my inner jacket pocket.

"No fucking way. Oh, my god, he totally likes you!" Danny squeals.

"Danny, this isn't eighth grade, okay? He's a prince. He's probably just being rebellious. He wants to shake things up."

"Do you have any idea how easy it would be for him to hire an escort?" Danny counterpoints. "That would be so much more rebellious. He could've picked anyone and he picked you."

"Nope. No way." I refuse to even consider that as a possibility. "This isn't a movie, Danny."

"C'mon, he invited you to a ball!"

I shake my head. "Oh, look! We're here!"

We exit the bus and walk for a few minutes before arriving at a brightly colored storefront. We step through the glass door and into a huge dress shop, with rows and rows of vibrant ballgowns. On a pedestal in the center of the store, a girl stands with her arms spread, staring at herself in the mirror while a woman in her sixties works on the hem of her dress.

Danny and I suddenly feel out of place. Our shoddy black clothes make us seem like total outsiders.

The store has a very clear springtime aesthetic, mostly due to the fake flowers lining the pinkish-orange walls. It's decorated with white lattice and wicker furniture, and the scents of jasmine and lavender hang in the air.

"Can I help you?" a woman with curly, orange-dyed hair asks. Her sundress is covered in flowers, and her eyes are lined with sparkly gold. I notice her looking at my black eye curiously, but she makes the right decision not to ask me about it.

"Yeah, she's looking for a wedding dress," Danny says immediately, earning an elbow to the ribs.

"I'm looking for a ballgown," I correct.

"Well, you've come to the right place!" The woman beckons for us to follow her as she leads us through the rows of gowns—which, upon closer inspection, are just fabrics waiting to be made into gowns. "My name is Shirley, and I'm the owner of this fine establishment. All sorts of fabrics, all sorts of styles, any occasion! If you'll me what you're looking for, and I'll have a high-end gown ready for you in no time."

I decide that I like Shirley's walking ad campaign style. "Um," I say, "I don't really know. I've never had a dress made before. Something I can wear to a ball? I guess?"

"Hm." She nods, looking me up and down. "I'm getting that you like black?" she infers. "But also some color. Not so monochromatic, yeah?" She seems to get excited, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head.
"Thoughts on corsets?" she asks.

"Hard no," I reply.

"Uh-huh thought so. Yes, I think I can work with this."

"Can you have it by next week?" I ask.

"Oh, yes. Maybe sooner. I'm excited for this one."

"Can you make me something out of this?" Danny calls from across the room, admiring some bright pink fabric.

"Jesus, Danny, we'll play princesses at home," I quip.

Shirley snickers. She hands me her tablet and instructs me to type down my name and contact information.

"You should get an order confirmation number right away." She takes the tablet back. "Just make sure you have it on hand when you come for your fitting. In case I don't recognize you." She winks.

"Do I get to know what you have in mind?" I ask, a little anxious.

She looks at me once more. "Oh, I think it'll be a nice surprise."

++++

I love Danny. He's so fun.

Favorite character so far? Mine's Danny hands down.

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