The Urban Princesses: Rapunzel

Chapter 7

"Mother, I-" My heart almost pounded out of my chest. She must be so mad at me.

She put a hand up. "No need to explain, my dear."

I calmed down. "Really?"

She nodded. "You are almost eighteen. A woman. You are completely capable of making your own decisions. Even if running away with criminals is your option."

I smiled. "So, you aren't mad?"

She shook her head. "Disappointed yes." She took a step towards me. "Just some advice, you might want to skip all of this drama in the future. You are always welcome to stay with your momma."

"Mother, I've met so many people, gone on so many adventures-"

"Risks, my dear, get you hurt."

I didn't believe that. Risks strengthen us, they teach us new things. I don't know why she was being so negative about it.

"It's a scary world out there. Take it from me, mother knows best." The corners of her mouth turned up in a wry smile, enhancing her wrinkles. She turned to walk away, but stopped and turned to look at me. "I'd watch out for the boy." And with that, she was gone.

I wanted to run over to her and embrace her, but I knew I had to prove her wrong. I knew I had to show her I could survive on my own, which may or may not be true.

My thoughts were dismissed when Flynn came back, an armful of kindling with him. Max trotted behind him.

"Can't seem to shake this dog." He grumbled as he tossed a few sticks into the fire.

"I think he is cute." I said as I scratched behind his ear. His tongue hung out and his head cocked. I giggled.

"So, Flynn-"

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"My real name isn't Flynn."

I was puzzled. "Then what is it?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Earl."

"Earl?"

"Yeah. Earl Fitz. Pretty nerdy huh?"

I smiled. "I like it better than Flynn."

"You do?"

I nodded. "Its got a certain ring to it."

He laughed a deep, hearty laugh that made my heart jump.

"So how did you get Flynn?"

"An old comic book character. He was just so awesome. My role model. 'The Adventures of Flynn Rider' were my escape, from my life, my parents, my situation."

I felt sorry for him. I didn't realize how bad some people had it.

"Earl, if you ever want to talk about it-"

"It's ok. You don't have to listen to me drone on about my sob story. I just thought I should tell you because, you know, you told me so much about you."

I looked down at my hands. They were smooth and the skin had not a callous, blister, or blemish on them, whereas Earl's were dry, cracked, and numerous blood stains spattered his bruised knuckles, I think that's what made them so beautiful. He had scars, not scars that made him shiver and gave him nightmares, but scars that showed what he had endured and showed that he fought through them. He could look down at his rough hands and think, "I conquered the world with these hands." I looked down at mine and saw a pampered, perfect life that was risk free. They showed how vulnerable I was, how inferior I was to every other person in society. They all had scars, not me.

"I'm going to get some shut eye." Earl said as he slid down the log so his head was leaning up against its side, his feet inches away from the fire.

"Good night, Earl." I said as I snuggled my head up to Max's fur coat, Pascal buried in my pocket.

He hesitated before he answered. "Good night, Blondie."