The Budding Roses

Princes

Thursday 8th October

Oh why is my fortune never as kind as Harry's? Of course his smarmy good luck meant that his Economics class was cancelled, whilst I still had to endure two hours of English.

'I need to buy a birthday card for my Mum,' he had claimed, leaving the Common Room in a hurry. A likely story! I don't need to see any proof to know that he spent the entire morning at Penny's Arcade Centre, playing that stupid shooting game.

As a punishment for such trickery, and determined to catch him in the act, I planned to pounce just as he reached the final level, on the cusp of making his last ill fated shot.

"Oops, did you miss?" How I would laugh; but of course, that wasn't the only reason causing me to vamoose quickly, once my own class had ended.

Displaying the qualities of the town's most deranged sociopath, what with looking over my shoulder at every fifth step, I needed to calm down or I would make myself dizzy, and no doubt trip right in to the open door of the waiting van.

But last week had to be a coincidence, and I should feel embarrassed to keep indulging in these self involved thoughts. What a big headed person I'm becoming, to be so confident that someone I don't even know would dedicate such an effort to following me. Natasha was right telling me to get over myself.

Still, my haste meant that I reached town early. I could swoop right now and catch Harry in full flow, but then I'd have to endure another half hour watching him point that plastic gun at some digitally enhanced barmaid. Why a much more sensible option would be to peruse the shops than waste my time trying to sabotage Harry's high scores.

But alas my decision making ability still requires substantial refinement, for as I reached for the door handle of Mademoiselle Boutique, a hand grabbed on to my shoulder, pulling me backwards.

My immediate, and perfectly sensible thought, was that Harry had spotted me going in to the shop and had come to meet me. Oh naïve little girl I am; for when I turned to greet him, the face grinning back out me was not that of my peer, but belonged to a much older man of maybe twenty five. Not recognising his face, I studied the rest of him, now registering his light blue paint speckled t-shirt and the long blond hair ponytail. Who else could it be, but my most sinister friend? Breathe Simone, breathe, but the vacuum cleaner sucked hard at my open mouth, stealing away the last dreg of oxygen from my now constricted windpipe.

'It's so good to see you.' How dare he infer that we are somehow old friends? 'Can I buy you a coffee?'

'Erm, no thank you,' I clutched at my throat, 'I'm just about to meet my friend, my boyfriend.'

'Who, the boy I saw you with last week?'

'Yes, he'll be here any minute.'

'He's a bit young for someone like you, isn't he?'

'But he's the same age as me.' Oh feeble words, why can't you exit my mouth with the snappy emphasis that my brain had intended?

'You're so beautiful; you can pick any man you want. Are you sure you won't join me for a drink?'

'Please don't do that,' I shirked away as he touched my face, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

'Simone? Are you okay?'

At last a familiar voice, 'Liam!'

'I'm Patrick by the way,' the vampire continued, ignoring my relief at recognising Liam, 'and you really are beautiful.'

'What's the matter, has he done something to you?' My God, was Liam about to hit him?

'No. Let's just get out of here.'

'Look, why don't you sod off mate.' But Patrick remained still, his fangs bared and his smile forever unrelenting.

'What's happened?' Harry, who was now leaving Penny's Arcade, had also observed my fear stricken state.

'She's just had a bit of a shock, that's all.'

'A shock?'

'It's just some loser who's stalking her; apparently he keeps following her, saying strange stuff.'

'Is it the same guy as last week?' Harry demanded, 'you should have come to find me. I could have helped you.'

'Well that's it, you're certainly not walking anywhere on your own from now on,' Liam spoke over Harry, their words muddling together.

'Don't be so ridiculous. I can't be with one of you all of the time. It would drive me crazy for one thing. What are you going to do, chaperone me?'

'If needs be yes. I can pick you up in the morning and then give you a lift home after Sixth Form. In fact I'll take you home right now.'

'I don't think she needs a taxi service,' Harry argued, 'anyway, I can look after her.'

'Just shut up about it okay; and thanks for the offer Liam, but Harry and I need to finish some course work, and then we'll take the bus,' I glared at Harry, willing him to agree, 'that's right isn't it Harry?'

'Oh yes. What's today's subject, the phospholipid bilayer; my favourite.'

Of course I felt guilty, and so I should; as much as I didn't want to be driven home by Liam, I felt bad lying to him after he'd been so gallant saving me like that, but surely he doesn't actually believe that Harry and I really planned on talking about cell biology?

'You're looking particularly smug with yourself,' Harry grinned once we were alone.

'I hardly think so. In fact I'm quite the exhausted mess.'

'Whatever you say, but all I know is that the dark cloud which has been following you around all summer has magically all but evaporated.'

'No it hasn't. Anyway, what dark cloud?'

'Do you want to hear my theory?' He ignored my protests.

'Another theory? Is it as stupid as all your others?'

'I think you've quite enjoyed all the attention you've received these past few days.' Attention? Harassment more like!

'You're absurd, why would I enjoy being followed around by a potential serial killer who seems intent on making me his next victim? That would make me as weird as him.'

'The fact that Patrick may or may not be a psychopath is irrelevant. The point is that that you just love having all of these men sucking up to you, so why don't you just admit it?'

'Men? Granted Patrick might fall into this category, but you and Liam, aren't you still boys? Plus what else would you be doing with your life if you weren't fighting for my honour?'