Chapter 12- Princess

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Myra lay on the couch on her back porch, drinking in the night. She had been doing homework, but was finished. This was her favorite time to be outside. She could close her eyes and pretend that she was absolutely anything, and no one could tell her otherwise. It was as magical as being on set.

Just then, she heard a rustle in the bushes. She sat up slowly, frowning.  

Then someone stumbled up the steps, and her heart stopped.

It was Dallas. His eyes were drooping, and he was holding a half-empty beer bottle in his hand. Myra had a horrible sinking feeling.

"Myra," he said, his speech slurred, "I've been trying to talk to you. Why are you ignoring me?"

"Dallas," she said, her voice trembling, "please leave."

"Why?" he whispered, stumbling and catching the wall for support. "Don't love me anymore?"

Myra stood up and slowly started backing away. "I never did, Dallas. You were a good friend." She slowly shook her head. "But I never loved you. I'm sorry."

"Liar!" he shouted, lunging forwards and grabbing the front of her shirt. She shrieked, but he didn't let go. "You loved me! I could tell! You lead me on, you bitch!" he spat.

Myra closed her eyes, her whole body trembling. "I-I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry this happened. I never wanted to hurt you."

Dallas spit on her.

Her eyes flashed open, her mind spinning, and without thinking, she kneed him in the spot where it hurt.

"Ah!" he cried, releasing her shirt and stumbling backwards. She turned to run, but felt a wrenching tug on her arm and jerked backwards. Dallas slammed her against the wall to the house and held his other arm against her neck. She could smell the alcohol in his breath. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

"I will make you pay for what you did to me," he snarled.

Myra tried to say something, but the pressure on her windpipe was too great. Her vision started turning black.

Suddenly, Dallas' arm was gone and she took a gulp of air, collapsing to the ground. She touched her neck tentatively, where a bruise was already beginning to form.

She looked up and saw Bryn Cavanagh staring at Dallas with enough ferocity to burn down the world.

"Who're you?" he demanded, frowning.

"The girl whose about to kick your sorry ass," Bryn hissed. Then she pulled her arm back and socked him in the jaw.

He collapsed to the ground, knocked out cold.

Bryn immediately turned to Myra, worry etched into her face. "Are you okay?" She reached out her arms and helped Myra stand.

"I think so," Myra said shakily, her voice scratchy. She touched her neck again.

"Well, I called the cops," Bryn said gently. "They're going to be here in a few minutes to take care of this hooligan." She glared at the unconscious Dallas.

Myra collapsed against Bryn's chest, tears finally beginning to form. "Thank you," she whispered. "You're my knight in shining armor." She laughed weakly.

"I guess that makes you my princess," Bryn said, and Myra could hear the smile in her voice.

And that's when Myra decided that maybe she did love Bryn Cavanagh after all.


"Wow. You look incredible."

Myra smiled shyly. It was the night of the dance, and she was wearing a knee length white dress with silver designs on the neck line and top half of the skirt. She had put on her silver sandal heels, which she almost never wore. Her hair was in a simple fishtail side braid, and her makeup...well.

"The hair and makeup department on the set learned that I was going to a dance tonight, because my personal makeup artist follows me on Instagram," she said with a giggle. "They dropped by an hour ago to make me look my best."

Bryn smiled. "Well, not to say you're not always gorgeous, but they certainly did a good job."

Myra felt a flurry in the pit of her stomach and heat rise to her face. "Thanks," she mumbled. "You also look amazing."

Bryn was wearing her hair down for once, and had on a simple black dress that had see-through designs on the back. She didn't seem to be wearing a lot of makeup, but Myra decided she didn't need to.

"Shall we to the car, m'lady?" Bryn said with a bow, extending her elbow.

Myra took it with a grin. "Indeed we shall."


"Oh my goodness, snacks."

"Really, Bryn? Snacks at high school dances are never that good."

"Ah, you say that, but I spy a chicken nugget platter."

"What? Seriously? I stand corrected, let's go!"


"Alright, guys and gals, this is the last dance of the evening, so grab your date and come on down to the dance floor for a slow dance," the DJ said smoothly.

Bryn grabbed Myra's hand and started pulling her onto the dance floor as the soft and slow music began to play. Myra followed her, laughing. "Bryn, as seen this evening, I cannot dance to save my life."

"It's a slow dance! You just have to sway!" She stopped and turned around, placing her hands on Myra's hips. Myra felt the betraying butterfly flutter in her stomach again as she put her arms around Bryn's neck. "Like this?"

"Exactly," Bryn said with a smile. "Now, we sway."

"I'm positive I'm going to find a way to mess this up," Myra muttered.

"Nah," Bryn said. "You never mess anything up, princess."

Myra felt a flush of happiness run down her spine. She found herself gazing into Bryn's eyes.

They swayed, listening to the music. Myra felt like the whole world had dropped away around them, and it was just her and Bryn, for eternity, holding each other just like this.

Slowly, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against Bryn's, taking a deep breath. This. This was perfection. She was so close to Bryn, if she just tilted her head and moved forwards just a bit...

"What are you thinking, princess?" Bryn asked softly.

Myra took a deep breath. "Crazy, crazy things," she whispered.

"Oh?" Bryn lifted her hand from her waist and tilted Myra's chin upwards. Myra's eyes fluttered open and she stared into Bryn's eyes, so piercing, yet so warm.

She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Well, princess? Aren't you going to ask me what I'm thinking?" Bryn asked, her voice just barely audible.

"What are you thinking?" Myra whispered breathlessly.

"Something just as crazy."

Myra's mouth opened a fraction.

"And you know what else I'm thinking? Maybe crazy isn't so bad."

And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Myra's.

Myra froze.

This was nothing like her kiss with Gabriel. This only lasted a second, but in that second, Myra could feel fireworks going off inside her body. Her toes curled and her breath was completely gone.

Bryn pulled back. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking a little bit upset. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just—"

And then Myra pulled her back, pressing her lips to hers with fervor.

Bryn stiffened, then relaxed, smiling against Myra's lips. Myra closed her eyes and wound her arms around Bryn's neck.

And she lost herself in the moment. The moment that lasted forever.

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