Skipper's Heartbeat (PRN)

two

"Do you remember C Major? You just learned it three days ago."

I blow air through my lips, "Psht, that's easy!" My hands leap onto the keys, preparing to blow my scale out of the water. I practiced by choice last night after Prince offered to buy me a milkshake if I could do any scale he threw at me by the end of the week. Day three of piano lessons was getting to my head but at the same time Prince says I'm a diamond in the rough who needs a little guidance. Whatever that's suppose to mean, I took it as a compliment.

He stops me with the waving of his finger. "Not so fast, little Mozart." My eyes roll at his constant use of that adjective. Everything about me had to be little when it came to him. My little hands, my little feet, my little eyes, my little attitude. It's a complete overkill of the word. "Do it with your eyes closed."

"I can't do that!"

Prince sasses me, his hands firmly placed on his hips as he stood before me. "Well why not? You can do it with your eyes open can't you?"

"Yeah but– that isn't even fair!" My head snaps at the boy standing beside me on the maple colored long bench. He is enjoying every bit of this. See, I told you he has plans to torture me. "What's so funny, chump?"

"You." He laughs, shaking his head. Prince puts his attention back on the piano. "You're getting upset for nothing." Picking my hands and placing them onto the piano he says, "Just give it a try."

"I don't want to."

He shrugs his shoulders without a care in the world. Prince sits back down on the bench next to me and says, "Fine, then don't. I can't force a stubborn horse to drink. I can only take you to the water."

What the hell does that mean? This is the second time he's done this and is exactly what I mean when I say I don't like him when he's talking. He should be quiet and play his piano songs since that's all he's got going for himself. Well, that and his massive fro. The shape is perfect but he ain't! Talking down on me won't make anything about this any easier. I could say a whole lot about him but I don't. Why? Because I actually have some sort of class and know how to treat people.

"Did you just call me a horse?" I shout at him with attitude. He palms his face with his hand in irritation. What's his issue, I'm the one who was insulted! He's been throwing low jabs at me for three days straight for no reason at all.

He laughs a bit through his hand. "That's exactly why." Prince knowingly points at me as the humor in his statement is no where in sight. His head shakes with his laugh. "That is exactly why I refer to you as a little girl, Monica."

"Piss off, Skipper."

His neck extends backwards and he sizes me up. He clearly didn't like that. "Don't call me that."

"You called me a damn horse," I snap back in a hostile tone.

Prince seems to have grown frustrated with me over the last couple of statements that left my mouth. He no longer looked amused, he'd shut down. Tapping his foot and humming, Prince gives everything in the room his attention except for me. His eyes don't come back to meet my own for hours. Prince throws out an order and I follow his instructions. The silence is eating me alive but I know I won't speak first, not after he insulted me two times in a row without any remorse. I can't believe the nerve of this guy.

"C Major scale. Eyes closed." He mumbles with an attitude. I decide to comply to keep this train moving. Closing my eyes, I play the scale near perfectly. I open my eyes to see the sixteen year old young man shaking his head. Talking to no one in particular he says, "All that lip and you just did it perfect. Girls, I'll tell you man." His head continues to shake and I roll my eyes at his words.