The Prince

Chapter Six: I Get Help From A Guy Who Reads Twilight Shirtless

CHAPTER SIX: I Get Help From A Guy Who Reads Twilight Shirtless.



"Did you just say Mom?" I ask, horrified at the impeccable timing my mother seems to have. C'mon did she really have to come the day of the party? If I had a chance of getting out before, might as well forget it now. She'll never let me go.

"Yes I did Xander." He replies, sitting down on the striped yoga mat in a lotus flower position. "We have to go to a social event in Washington, so we're going to meet your mother and Liz there at three thirty on Saturday, but they arrive Friday night."

"So she's not going to be at the house on Friday night." I reply, trying to be nonchalant so he's not suspicious.

He raises an eyebrow at me, already knowing I'm plotting something. "No, why?"

"Because I want to toilet paper the neighbour's house. They talk all night." I lie, knowing he won't settle for a 'nothing'.

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Try getting to know the Robinson's first, they're actually pretty nice. The Blackmore's even have a teenage son your age."

I frown, knowing I've heard that name before. I just can't place a face. "Fine, I'll 'get to know them.' Do they.. know about us?" I ask as he stretches his legs, taking the purple headband out of his hair.

"Who do you think is taking care of block surveillance, son?" He asks, and now I'm screwed. There is no way, not even a glimmer of hope that I'm going to get out of here.

"The Blackmore's son's name is... Cameron, right?" I ask, smiling slightly at the new solution. I guess it's only a solution if he decides to help me, but a spark of hope nonetheless.

"Yeah, he goes to your school. Why don't you go introduce yourself?" He replies, heading into the kitchen and taking some cookies out of a jar. "Bring these." He pushes a box into my hands, a pink and white striped box with a perfectly fluffy red bow. My dad seems to be getting better at this whole 'house husband' thing every minute.

"I'll be back in a few." I tell him, striding out of the kitchen, walking towards the only shard of hope left.

♛♛♛

"What a wonderful surprise!" Mrs Blackmore, or alternatively known as Jenna, beams at me, her hundred-watt smile brightening up the already colorful living room.

The whole house is contradictory to their last name, the exterior of the building a pale salmon color, with cherry blossom trees and fountains decorating the front yard. The interior is just as cheerful, not a hint of black in sight. High white walls with a gold trim, oak coffee tables and plush creamy couches, loaded with fluffy pastel pillows.

In fact, the only thing in the whole room that is black is the flatscreen mounted on the wall.

"So delighted to have you, your Royal Highness!" She chirps, ushering me into the living room, the throw carpets plush and soft under my bare feet. "What are you doing here? I mean, not that you're not welcome, in fact, you're always welcome! Your mother would always come over to my old house to throw these massive parties, you know, high school years--"

A tall, blonde man walks down the fancy spiralling staircase, outfitted in a crisp suit and tie, chatting on a cellphone. The kind of man you'd easily mistake for a CEO. Everything about him screams 'professional,' the exact opposite of my father.

"The newbies haven't learned how to disable a hand grenade with their eyes closed yet? Back in our day, they would've chucked it at you if you couldn't figure it out!" The man chuckles a hearty laugh. Yeah, definitely a spy. "Man, those days were the good days, eh?" He doesn't seem to notice us, almost completely bypassing us.

"Keiran!" Mrs Blackmore calls in a strained voice. "We have guests."

"Hold on dude, yeah, it's Jenna again." The corner of his mouth lifts in a devilish smirk as he whirls around to face us. His smile drops, an expression of complete shock replacing it.

"Your Highness." He bows, eyes widening. "I'm Keiran Blackmore, pleasured to make your acquaintance." Stepping towards us, he extends a hand, in which I shake it firmly.

"I'm Xander, actually." I grin at him, glad that he doesn't seem to be the stiff rule-follower that I pegged him for. Voices from his phone call him back. "You can get back to your phone if you want."

He's tempted to unmuffle his phonecall - I can tell - but he also seems afraid of offending me.

"I was looking for Cameron, if you don't mind showing me to him?" I ask them both, and fortunately Jenna jumps at the chance, leaving Keiran to go back to the phone call with his buddies.

"The bra on the llama! A classic... Yeah! Maybe even a turkey." He laughs, walking away as he continues to chat animatedly on his phone.

I doubt he usually gets chances like now to do that, spies are usually in a mission, dead, or 'unable to be located' which brings us back to dead. So might as well savour the moments he gets to talk with his friends while he can.

Wow, that sounded morbid.

"He's in his room, here, let me show you!" Mrs. Blackmore almost flies up the grand oak staircase in her high heels, something that would've been extremely difficult for a normal person, but probably a walk in the park for her.

After climbing the spiralling staircase, the halls are long and the amount of doors grow, almost feeling more like a fancy hotel rather than a house. The corridors are lit with star-shaped lights dangling from the ceiling, and family pictures litter the blank walls. Jenna stops at a random door, one that seems to be blasting rap music.

"Cam's in there, don't even bother knocking, his music is deafening to anyone." She shrugs and smiles once more, her chocolate brown eyes lit up. "Have fun!"

♛♛♛

"Shit, does anyone knock nowadays?" He asks, turning off the stereo and tossing an object onto his black duvet, grabbing a shirt and pulling it on. He gestures me into the room, and I take a peek at the mysterious thing he's trying so hard to hide.

"Is that a romance novel?" I ask, snatching the book off his bed, as his coal-black eyes glower, but I'm too fast for him. "You read Twilight?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows as I hold the black - fitting for Cameron's room - book in my hands. "Wait, you read Twilight shirtless?"

"Twilight is a novel full of death and murder, it is not a romance novel." He protests, snatching the thick paperback copy out of my hands, not answering the part about being topless. He gingerly places it back onto the, surprise surprise, obsidian bookshelf.

"My sister loves Twilight. She's fifteen and obsessed with bad boys, so I'm not really buying it, Cameron." I retort, and he just shakes his head, not bothering with words.

"Why is your room so different from the rest of your house?" I ask. Literally everything in Cameron's room is the following: Black, grey or dark brown. It almost seems like you just stepped into an alternate universe, for crying out loud.

"'Cause my mom's psycho." He snorts, flopping back onto his large king-sized bed, the force of it knocking some grey pillows off. "And why're you here, anyways?"

"I need help escaping."

♛♛♛

"Dude, you're lucky my mom even let you in, aren't you an assassin planning to murder everyone in Wellingtons? Because if you are, I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it." He says, somewhat calmly for someone who suspects the guy in their room is plotting to do a mass-murder.

"What do you mean, assassin?" I ask, confused.

"I mean, my parents are fucking spies, they're watching your house twenty-four seven dude. There's got to be something wrong with that picture."

"That's because I'm a prince, not because I'm part of the mafia, smart one." I retort, then cover my mouth when I realize what I've done. "Shit!"

His eyes widen, and he looks more shocked than when I asked him what he was reading. "Xander Falls.." He mutters, furrowing his dark-brown eyebrows together. "I've heard your name before..."

Please be dumb, please be dumb, please be dumb!

His jaw drops open when it all clicks together. "Y-You're Xander Remington-Falls!" He stutters, pointing a finger at me.

"What? No! I'm part of the mafia, I swear-"

"Your Highness." He bows, and I groan.

"Not that! Please, don't." I sigh, slumping back into the plush armchair. "Fuck, all I... Nah, nevermind." I can't ask this guy for any favors now, he'll feel like he has to. I hate when people think they have to do something for me just because I have a stupid title in front of my name.

"What?" Cameron asks, snapping out of his trance-like state. "Tell me. I mean, if you want to--"

"Don't do this if you don't want to." I tell him, and he nods. "I need a plan that can be devised in--" I check my phone for the date, "three days. A plan that can escape booby traps, heat detectors, security cameras and two highly trained CIA/FBI agents that also happen to live next-door. Not to mention my dad, who has been trained since birth and probably knows every cliched and complicated measure of escape that I can plan."

"So basically you turn to a teenage guy who reads Twilight novels and rocks out to Eminem to help you devise a masterplan?" He questions, and once you think of it that way, I sound pretty stupid.

"Yeah."

"Good thing you came to probably the only guy in the world that could help you with that, because I'm a spy-in-training, my specialty being escape."



♛♛♛

"Then we loop around the estate," he draws two stickmen with ninja masks and huge butts (don't question it) sneaking around the pristine grounds of the Blackmore property.

"Climb up the treehouse, jump from the treehouse to the zipline, shimmy ourselves down the zipline, backflip into the bushes, down the secret tunnel, in the manhole, out the manhole in the middle of the road, and then we jump into every bush possible before we get to a car."

"Do we have to backflip into the bushes?" I ask, as I point to the ninja-stickmen doing a sort of tuck-and-roll thing.

"No, but do you want to kill the fun?" He asks, making a face at me like 'c'mon dude.'

"Yeah, backflipping is some cool shit. Do you know how?" I ask, and he waves me off.

"I've done it sucessfully once, which means hell yeah I can! I've got good vibes for this plan dude." The corners of his mouth lift up and we fist-bump. This plan isn't actually half bad.

Okay, so maybe logically backflipping from ziplines to bushes isn't the best plan, but my dad would never suspect we'd do it.

"Do you know the time by any chance?" I ask. We've probably been at this for quite a while, considering the amount of hot chocolate we've drank.

"I dunno dude, around seven I'm guessing?" He says, shrugging.

"I've gotta run, but text me." I give him my phone number, and I don't even feel bad about it. He already knows who I am, what's the worst that could happen?

"Yeah, ok, see you around dude."

♛♛♛

"Dad, I'm home!" I yell, and there's no response. "He better not be doing the yoga again." I mumble, taking my shoes off to the kitchen, where he said he'd be trying out recipes all day.

"And then I was like, 'Oh no you didn't!" My dad says, and the girls giggle, helping themselves to an assortment of cupcakes. "And then she was like, 'Those are my fake boobs, you asshole!"

"Oh Xander, you finally showed up!" Dad says, the smell of lasagne wafting from the oven as he takes out a pan. "These girls have been waiting for an hour! That's so inconsiderate!"

I look over to the table where Claresse and Kerri sit, orange frosting smeared all over their faces. "Sorry." I mutter, looking back over to Dad. Wait, what? Why are they here?

"And I thought my yoga was bad." He smirks.

"Get your ballet stuff on, it's time for your private lessons." Kerri orders.

Shit.

♛♛♛

A/N: I pulled through! :) Who's your favorite character so far?

And I do think the party chapter *might* be coming up next... How do you think that's going to turn out?

Vote, Comment & Fan! :)

-Rachel