-dedication to: cousin Jessie. love you! happy nineteenth!-
Chapter Three: Cheers for Cheerios
"I tried! There was no other choice!" I couldn't bear it. "Dad, it was horrible, there was literally nothing else-"
We both stare at the ruins of what used to be my VCR. Well, before I used CIA-level agent training on it and completely destroyed it.
"You really had to smash it." He shakes his head, his dark brown eyes scanning over the wreckage of the poor thing.
"It was a lecture! Over disc! And somehow the nutter made it so you can't pause, can't stop, can't even take the goddamned disc out!" Okay, so maybe what I did would be called a little drastic. But try having your mom record herself ranting about what you do wrong. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
"Xander, just get ready for school." He sighs and walks out the door. I know he might be slightly disappointed but he would've done the same. I'm basically a younger, hotter replica of my Dad. (Not really. I look more like my mom, but me and my dad basically have the same personality.)
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I find a pair of dark-wash jeans, (since they make my ass look fantastic) a white tee and a solid, plain black tie. Yeah. I have to wear ties, it's something even Dad stresses. He even told me that I could even wear footsie pyjamas, as long as I had a tie on. 'A tie makes a prince. A tie makes a man.' He would always say, when I protested and said I looked like an absolute fart.
Which I probably still do, but it looks a lot more attractive when you don't do a bow-tie. Which I will never, ever do again. The only girl at the social function that was worth my time saw me in a fucking bow-tie. Let's not forget the parts where I stuttered, spilled my drink on her, and had acne covering my forehead. This might come as a shocker to you, but I didn't get her number that night.
Sighing at the embarassing memory, I shake my head to clear it, and head downstairs. I find my Dad eating, surprise surprise, Cheerios.
While the ordinary person might find this weird, our family has an obsession with Cheerios. Who wouldn't? They're delicious, easy to prepare, and a much better substitution to wild trainberries. (Trainberries are fucking disgusting, but Mother insisted for years. ('They're good for you! And while you're at it, Daniel, Xander, use the low-fat, low-calorie, low-everything yogurt! No, not the sugary one Xander. That one! Yeah, the disgusting one!)
"I made you cereal." He says, slurping away at his own bowl, as he nods to the bowl directly across from his.
"Thanks. Cheers." I lift my bowl up and clank it against his. Cheers for Cheerios, the most incredible cereal ever. "What is this, Honey nut?" I ask, milk dribbling out of my mouth as I grab a napkin and quickly wipe it away.
"Apple cinnamon, Xander." He sighs, his broad shoulders slumping. "You're tastebuds are awful, and that's speaking from a guy who ripped off most of his." Apparently Dad lost a lot of tastebuds battling these really sadistic and messed up guys, who shoved bottles of hotsauce down his throat. (Actually, I think it might have been a lie, and it was actually a burrito we had at Ekna's* that burnt them all off. He enjoys exaggerating.)
After I've finished my bowl of cereal, Father announces that he's driving me to school. (A first, since apparently dad hasn't touched a proper steering wheel since his twenty-some days. But apart from tractor-driving, BMXing and golf carts, how much different could it be?) So minutes later, we're driving through sleepy Wellingtons, America, trying to find the school before I'm late.
"Do the professors know?" I ask, absentmindedly, a bit nervous about going to school for the first time. Between agent training, prince cultivating and running away from bodyguards, education hasn't been my number one focus. Hence the reason why I've never been to school. Or even the reason why I've only talked to twenty-eight teenagers in my life.
"The principal. That's it. I kinda had to explain when your name is literally His Royal Highness Prince Xander. You can't drop the title, it's your name." He explains, stroking his prickly day-after face. I like it stubbly, but it's annoying that he was always clean-shaven before. "But none of the professors, no. You're Xander Falls, by the way."
"Oh, okay." I respond, staring out the window, absorbing the dull, grey scenery. Nothing like home.
We pull up in front of a rather modest school, and I take in everything to be seen. Brick walls, a sad looking fence, people my age smoking narcotics near the dumpsters. I bet my dad smells that too, especially since he's better trained than I am, but he either ignores it or doesn't catch the scent. I wonder what it's like, to get high. Something I'd like to try, but would probably get murdered for if I did.
"I'll get your stuff. Hang out with them while I get your stuff kiddo." He ruffles my hair and I carefully rearrange it back to it's chocolatey perfection. I spent an hour on this hair today, no one is fucking with my hair.
The corridors are lined with kids my age. Where pale blonds and light green eyes are the norm in Falls, there's so much variety here. Black, red, brown, blond, even purple heads are everywhere, and the eyes are almost all different. But the most important thing about this particular student body, is that none of them know I'm a prince, none. It's refreshing for them to pay me little to no attention, just another passerby.
"Hello. Are you new?" A petit blonde girl taps me on the shoulder and gives me a friendly smile.
"Yeah, I'm Xander." I smile back at her. She's rather pretty, fair blonde hair and sparkling brown eyes, which I find myself absorbed in. "Esse. Well, I'm actually Claresse, but everyone calls me Esse." She shrugs, flattening out her bright pink skirt. "Do you need help?"
"Ah, I'm just waiting for my dad to come outside of the office, he's getting everything cleared and stuff. Y'know." I lean against the wall, stuffing my hands in my pockets, my cold blue eyes washing over everything to see if he'll possibly appear.
"Yeah. I'll see you around, Xander." She winks and disappears into the groups of students, gone from sight. I try to find her again, but the crowds are too big, and too many of them are dressed in flouncy skirts and dresses, so it's hard to pick them apart.
"Xander, a moment please." Dad emerges from the office and motions me in. I straighten my back, take my hands out of my pockets and follow him into the office, to the room marked principal. Must be where the bigshot of this school resides.
"Your Royal Highness." The principal doesn't seem like much, an average heighted young fellow, bout thirty, in a clean, white shirt and black trousers. His hazel-colored eyes avoid direct contact with mine, unlike the open Claresse. He stands and shakes my hand, and seats himself again in his large, comfortable-looking armchair.
"Hullo." I respond, taking a seat in one it the swivel chairs in front of his desk. Everyone needs a good swivel, but I resist the urge to spin around in the seats, it would make me appear rather childish. Don't do it, X. Don't. I remind myself over and over again in my head.
"Your Father has been discussing the issue of your...status with me." He clarifies, somewhat nervously, glancing over at my Dad. For once, the King of Falls looks pretty serious, the impish smile gone, and replaced with a friendly smile, with a hint of 'I'm a king' in his grey eyes. Though I know it's all bullshit, he's probably figuring out ten different ways to kill him with the pen on his desk. (If necessary.)
"It's remaining confidential, yes?" That's what Dad told me, at least. Might as well make sure to confirm it, as well as make some sort of conversation.
"Of course. No one will know." He assures me. "Just don't go around telling people, it will prove difficult to diffuse those kinds of rumours." I nod in understanding. I haven't changed my appearance, so it wouldn't be hard to piece two-and-two together once the whispers begin
"You're a Junior this year, so here are your classes for the semester-" he slides a piece of paper in my direction, "and a student handbook. It's a delight to have you at L.V. Rogers" He's looking a little too eager for comfort, too bendable, willing to do whatever I ask, it seems. But that might prove good in the future.
"Pleasure to be here." I respond politely, accepting the items and nodding as I leave.
A fresh start.
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"Class, we have a new student. This is Xander Falls." My first teacher, Ms. Mac announces to the class of bored, unattentive students, whom instantly perk up at the new information, their eyes devouring me with hungry stares. This is a school of seven or so hundred, though it may seem massive to me, is very small in comparison to other secondary schools, or so I've heard.
I put my books down in a random spot near the back, ignoring all the stares. I sketch the black-and-white toucans from the Relin jungles in my notebook when someone throws a folded piece of paper at me, and I glance over to my desk-partner, who I'm guessing chucked the paper at me. I raise an eyebrow, holding the scrap of paper in my hands, and she makes the motion of opening it. So I do.
'Xander. You have to move, sitting here it's..it's social suicide.' The note reads, and I glance over to my desk-partner, a mousy red-haired girl, her facial expression so serious it makes me want to laugh. Since when did sitting with a certain person automatically make you an outcast yourself?
I take my time to write back in a clear, loopy script that I've freaking mastered over the years. No one does handwriting like Xander, since it's the thing I like to do in my spare time, some days.
'Social suicide? Sounds fun. I'll stick around, thank you very much.' Just as I'm finished sliding the note back to her desk, I find several people from the class staring at me like an animal at the zoo. I stare them back in the eye before they finally drop their creepy glances. What in the world are they doing?
'They're curious. You're a hot guy, a new hot guy whom's sitting with the outcast. They won't leave you alone, trust me.' She writes back, staring at the board trying not to watch my response. I can tell, though. By the way her auburn hair jostles slightly as she looks at me from the corner of her light brown eyes.
"You think I'm hot?" I say aloud and wink at her. She blushes, two red splotches clear as day on her pale cheeks.
"Y-you're just attractive." She stutters nervously, avoiding my eyes once again, and I lean in closer to her.
"Hmm, just attractive? That's a disappointment. I was hoping for sexy badass, but I'll take what I can get." I whisper into the approximate space in where her ear should be, underneath her long hair. She blushes even deeper as she hears and I smirk when she looks at me.
"J-just-" she begins to respond when the bell rings, cutting her off.
She gathers her books and things faster than I believed possible and rushes out the door, as if she was desperate to get away from me. Which she probably was, I mean, I'm making her nervous, which is probably rude of me to do so...
But here I'm Xander Falls, not the crown Prince Xander Remington-Falls..
And I must say. I quite like it.
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"I'll give you five seconds to agree with me, or I'll smash that pretty face of yours." The rather violent captain of the football team growls at me, his teammates giving me solid glares. I scoff at them. These boys don't know that I could take them all down.
"My face is quite attractive, isn't it?" I respond, giving them a friendly smile. "No wonder your girlfriend seemed to have noticed." Ashley or Daisy, whatever the hell the cheerleader's name was, apparently had been flirting with me, and Mr. Douche over here is trying to threaten me, telling me to stay away from her.
As if I'd want a blonde bimbo as a girlfriend. "Though I assure you, I'm not interested." He narrows his eyes, as if he thinks I'm hiding an insult in the blatant comment.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" I ask, leaning against the lockers, bored with this conversation already. Talking with my mother could be more interesting than these egotistical twats.
"You stay away from her." He threatens again, and steps closer to me. "I don't like your attitude. Got it?" He shoves me into the wall, and my fists ball up. He doesn't have the right to push people around like that. Is it just me, or does everyone this fudge-monkey disrespects gets pushed around like this?
"Don't fucking push me." I glare, letting the anger seep into my tone. He doesn't know I'm going easy on him.
"Or what? What are you gonna do pretty boy? Call your mommy?" He smirks, shoving me hard into the wall again while his cronies snicker. I regain my compsure and ball my hands into fists once again, getting into a fighting position--
Calm down Xander. Don't retaliate. My conscience screams, so before I resort to the physical, I'll give him another warning.
"Push me again and I swear, I don't give a fuck who you are Mr. Captain of the football team. I will punch you so hard that your grandchildren will feel it." I lower my voice to a deadly whisper.
He narrows his eyes. "I dare you. Bring it on, pretty boy."
I know I'm supposed to back away, to bring on the apology, to be the bigger person. But I can't, I won't give a fuck. I'm sorry to say I threw the first punch, hitting him square in the stomach. As he fell, his cronies glared at me.
And then all hell broke loose.
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A/N
£ the alarm. Lol get it? Pound the alarm?
I wrote this on my birthday, August the fourth! Wow, it's been over a month.
Eska= A holiday in Falls. (If you've read Teaching Ryder, look back to chapter seven. See? SEE!)
hope you liked the chapter!
Vote/Comment/Read! :D
xo-Rachel.