Prince Charmings (BOOK ONE)

18

For the first time in my life I woke up Monday morning to breakfast in bed.

Granted it was a plate of triangular pancakes thrown onto my lap by Flemming but the sentiment remained, right down to the crudely written I tried in whipped cream. Even though the last thing I wanted was to celebrate being eighteen I would be lying if I said Thomas' attempt at being caring wasn't appreciated.

"You're doing that thing with your face again," Flemming muttered, looping his tie around his neck. The sight of his boxy uniform made me want to curl back into the covers and forget classes existed, but I knew Dad would be up in a few minutes, birthday or not, to make sure I was ready for school. Although Mom was willing to act as though I was pure as snow today, Dad was still on my ass and probably would be until I had fully repaid my debt to society.

"What thing with my face?" I asked Flemming, stabbing at a pancake and ignoring the blob of syrup that landed on my sheets as I steered the forkful to my mouth.

"That smile of yours that makes your eyes disappear, it's super creepy."

"Me being happy creeps you out?" I asked, enjoying Flemming's grimace as he caught an eyeful of partially chewed cake.

"Yes, after eighteen years of watching you scowl I don't know how to feel." He said, going so far as to shudder before dropping onto his own bed to tie his shoes.

"Don't worry, by the time I'm back home from school, I'll be back to scowling," I told him and Flemming dug around under his mattress before pulling out a bare brown box, tossing it at my duvet covered feet.

"Never mention this," he muttered and casted me a gloomy look, getting to his feet. "I'm going to miss the bus if I keep talking to you. Enjoy your lame ass party that I'm sure April cracked and told you about. I won't be there."

Placing the pancakes onto my nightstand I made for the box, throwing Flemming an imploring look. "Where'll you be?"

"At a friend's," he said, flashing me a feral grin and exiting the room with a callous, "Don't wait up."

Shrugging I pulled the box's lid free, eyebrows raising in surprise at the thick, almost navy, sweater staring back at me. Sure Jenny made him buy it for me, I pulled the sweater on after layering myself in deodorant, searching for a pair of jeans. The closer exams approached the messier my room had become and after barely making it through the practice exams I couldn't afford to waste time cleaning. It made Mom huffy every time she entered it to check Flemming and I hadn't murdered each other, but she had stop scolding me for the state of it when I turned fifteen.

I found a black pair of jeans I was sure used to be Thomas' judging by the fade on the knees. Tucking a pair of socks into the back pocket I collected the plate and my bag before heading down the stairs. I frowned when I found the kitchen empty, though Thomas' presence was smeared over the entire room with dirty dishes and batter covering almost all the kitchens surfaces. I finished my soggy pancakes, shoved on a pair of old boots, and busied myself scrolling through vapid birthday messages while waiting for Dad to come down.

"And here we have a wild Beau Minders in his natural habit... complete and utter social isolation," Aprils voice came from the doorway and I glanced up in time to catch the flash of her camera. "That one is definitely going on the cake. I'm sending this to Mom."

"Where's Dad?" I asked, ignoring April entirely as I dumped my plate in the sink. When I turned back around she quickly hid a frown, fiddling with her phone.

"Dad told me to tell you you have to bike in today."

"What? That's completely unfair."

"You're an adult now, Beau, act like one," April said, voice a poor imitation of Dad.