edited and rewritten

In the car, my mom and dad carry me to school. I could always take the bus but I don't want to wake up thirty minutes earlier. After the prince carried me back home, my parents bombarded me with questions. I never told them who I went with but I'm sure they think it's a guy I like.

That couldn't be further from the truth, but I know that if they knew who I went with and why they'd lose their minds. "So, darling, are you going to tell us who you went with yesterday?" My mother brings it up for the millionth time.

I groan as I throw my head back, "Mom," I accuse her and she laughs.

"What? I only want to know about my daughter's life. Do you like him? What is he like?" She pries.

I let out a sigh, "Why do you think that it's a crush? It wasn't. It was just a friend and it was school stuff, mom," I say.

My father smiles and looks at me through the rearview mirror. "Your mother's just excited, dear."

My mom smiles widely, "Of course I am. This is the first time our daughter could have a crush."

My body tenses and my breathing becomes a bit shallow. My eyes grow wide as I bite my cheeks. Oh, the things my parents don't know about me. 'It's not the first time, mom,' That's what I wanted to say but I don't.

I don't respond to her, instead, I continue looking out the window. The rapid beating of my heart doesn't slow down, not even when they drop me off or when I get to my first class. Nerves hack away at my body as I try to remain regular.

"Hey, Adara, are you okay?" Mr. Rick comes to my table, placing a hand on my shoulder. My body jerks a little and I look up at him. His round blue eyes angle on me with care and I try my best to act normal.

I nod, "Yes sir, I'm alright." He removes his hand then he goes back to his desk then the bell rings and class begins.

Okay, hopefully, I can get through the rest of this class without crying. I've been ignoring all the terrible things that happened earlier this year. Instead of confronting it, I ignore it. I knew that it eventually would come back to me but I didn't think it would happen this quickly.

→⁜←

I throw my bag in the corner of the room then I kick off my shoes. Rubbing the back of my neck I relieve the tension that has accumulated from a day of stress. The entire day I secretly hoped that I would've felt better and less anxious but that was wishful thinking. I was nervous the entire day. Even conversations with Via were kind of strained. I think she got the idea that I wasn't in the mood to talk since she ended up leaving me alone.

All of my thoughts pack up inside my mind and I slide onto the floor, my back against my bed I bring my knees up to my chest. I bury my face in my knees and I cry. Sob after sob I don't care how loud I'm being. My parents aren't home so I don't have to keep quiet.

A few minutes pass then I hear someone clear their throat. I jump as my head snaps up to look at the person in my room.

"Sparky?" That is the first word out of my mouth. At first, I was joking about calling him that but who doesn't love pissing off an already dangerous prince?

His jaw ticks then he bends down so he's almost leveled with me. His royal suit wrinkles as he does so. He looks at me calculatingly, as if he's trying to figure me out. "Are you okay?" He asks in a soft, gentle voice. Something I have never heard from him. . .ever.

With tears still pouring down my cheeks, I look at him warily then I nod. A small smile etches at the sides of his lips, "Clearly you're fine."

A small laugh escapes from my lips then I wipe away my tears. "I don't wanna talk about it," I mumble, looking away from him.

He nods then he stands and offers out a hand to me. I eye it as negative thoughts rush through my head. Is this a joke? Is he going to pretend to help me but really allow me to fall and make fun of me? If so, I'd rather he leave.

Regardless of my incessant thoughts, I take his hand and he helps me up. He doesn't let go of my hand, not even when I'm standing on my own two feet.

I clear my throat, looking away from him then I remove my hand from his. He places his hands behind his back and he takes some steps away from me.

"I came by to discuss the contract. . .but we can do it another time if you want." He says. From the sound of his voice, I'm assuming that he doesn't know how to address this situation. I'm sure it's not every day the prince finds someone crying.

I shake my head as I wipe away more tears, "No, we can talk about it. My parents don't come home for the next hour."

He nods but he still doesn't move. Tears continue building in my eyes but I blink them away. I look at him expecting him to do something so I can stop focusing on my past. "Can we?" He asks me and I nod.

We both sit on my bed then he takes a book from inside of his suit jacket and hands it to me. I look at him then I take the book from him. My hand sinks a little due to its unusually heavy weight. This book can't be more than two hundred or even three hundred pages yet it feels heavier.

On the front, it says "CONTRACT" in big bold letters. I open the hardcover book and on the first page, it's Terms and Conditions. Being a lawyers' daughter, I always read the Terms and Conditions. In the world in which we live, it would be foolish not to.

It basically says that I, the reader, agree that all things discussed in this book are confidential and shouldn't be shared with anyone not involved. I quickly sign the bottom of the page then I flip to the next page.

In a beautiful calligraphic font spells out Rules. Under the big heading, is the prince's title. I scour the page trying to find his name but I can't. Whenever it refers to the prince, it always addresses him by his title. Do they even know his name?

"The contract is an entire book?" I ask, looking up at him. He nods, then he takes the book out of my hands.

"Yes. I haven't read it yet though. I thought it would be best if we went through it together." He mutters.

"This contract states what the Prince of ArchDale and Adara can do. The rules are: The prince and Adara will act like a couple very much in love." He looks at me then looks back at the book. For some weird reason, he appears to be bothered by that. I mean, I don't like that rule either but he's the one that brought this entire thing up in the first place.

"The Prince will not, under any circumstances, call Adara a 'peasant' or refer to her as someone who is beneath him, he will not disrespect her. The Prince will not be with any other woman other than Adara, he will not make her cry, he will not cheat on her, he will not allow her to be harmed, he will be with her for most of the day, he will—blah blah blah, all this stuff about me. Where's the stuff about you?" He flips through the pages.

"Really? For three hundred pages there are rules for me and you only get one page?" He mumbles frustrated.

I couldn't help but giggle a little. It's funny the way he's doing this. The Prince glares at me and I cover my mouth trying to stifle my laughter. I've never seen him so. . .regular. Seeing him frustrated is oddly funny and soothing.

"Adara will treat the Prince as she would a real boyfriend, in public, she will do all the things necessary to make everyone believe that they are a real and loving couple. Including but not limited to kissing him." The prince's lips tug up into a smile as his eyes find mine.

I swallow. There is no way that's actually there. "That's not really there," I say and I walk over to him, looking in the book. He points to where it is, and sure enough, it's there.

"I'm not kissing you," I say, stepping back.

"I have to follow—" He flips through the book, counting, "One thousand three hundred and twenty-two rules and you're complaining about one out of your—" He begins counting again, "Twelve rules?"

He closes the book, walking closer to me. With every step he takes, I take a step back. This motion extends until my back hits the wall. The Prince leans in and I lean back, pushing my body as far as possible into the wall.

Just as I can feel his breath on my face, he says, "Do you have any idea of how many women would kill to be in your shoes right now?"

I swallow. Trying to build up as much courage as possible, "Well maybe you should get one of them to take my place then."

He steps back, putting his hands in his pockets. "Let's continue going through the box, shall we?" He changes the topic of conversation and my brows crease.

"What box?"

He blinks at me then he points to the box sitting on my computer desk. "No wonder you didn't hear me come in earlier. You have no observational skills."

I roll my eyes away from his sight. I don't need the most famous prince in the world telling me what I suck at. I already know that. No need to highlight it. My mood soured as my heart filled with negative vibes toward him.

I don't respond to him instead I bring the box to my bed. "Could you get me the scissors? It's in the―" He uses his unusual speed to get my scissors out of my drawer and hands them to me.

"Or you could just get it yourself," I say then he starts cutting the box open.

Placing his hand inside the box, he takes out a clip. Red sparkles adorn every surface like sprinkles on a cupcake. On the very top of it is a beautiful rose made from transparent glass which reflects a shade of gold. Whoever wears this clip clearly is the center of attention.

"That's gorgeous. What's it for?" I ask him, leaning closer to observe the beautiful clip.

He twirls it around in his fingers, "It's a royal clip, only prestige members of the Royal Family wear it. You wear it in your hair for women but men have a single golden rose on their suits. Since you will be my. . . girlfriend, you'll wear it to important events." He explains and I nod, bewitched by the clip.

Woah, I'll be wearing that? It looks too good to be worn on my person.

He hands it to me, "Keep it in a safe place." I hesitantly take it from him and I place it inside my jewelry box. It sits at the top. Outshining all my other jewelry.

Walking back over to him, I put my hand into the box taking out what I'm guessing is the last thing in there. It's another box. Unlike the bland brown box, this one is adorned with the royal family's symbol, a single glass rose to reflect all sorts of wonderful colors.

I untie the yellow ribbon around it and I take off the cover. In my hands, the cover falls onto the floor as I stare at the most beautiful dress I've ever seen in my life. It's a spectacular pink tulle off-the-shoulder dress. The neckline delves into a small v-shape which would reveal some cleavage but not enough for my parents to burn the kingdom down. The dress forms create an hourglass figure with a fitted bodice but a flowing silhouette with a lot of layers.

This is the dress every princess in a fairytale would wear.

"Woah," I breathe out, "This is. . .too beautiful for words."

The prince looks from the dress to me and a small smile etches at the edge of his lips. "It is. You'll wear it to the event coming up."

My head snaps to him, "What event? What are you talking about?"

Is he joking? We never agreed to me going to any events only hanging out with him that's it. Why does he love sneaking things in that we never agreed on?

"Don't worry, Adara. At the event, we will announce our profound love for one another and then the reality of this will begin. If I don't formally dictate that you are my girlfriend then no one will pick up on it." He says.

A loud sigh comes from me, "Okay. When is it?"

"Three weeks."

I stutter and my eyes widen as my heartbeat quickens, "Almost a month? That's way too soon."

He places a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry, you'll be prepared for it." I nod as I try to force myself to believe it. An event? A royal event at that? I'll be surrounded by people. He said that's when he'll announce the fact that we're together.

What will I tell my parents? Will they, along with everyone else, think we're really dating? I don't know how to feel about that.

"Here's where you sign, agreeing to be my fake girlfriend." He points to the dotted line and then hands me a pen.

The pen's weight gets at least five pounds heavier as stress and worries consume me. This seems to be a simple thing, it's only me fake-dating the prince but it makes me so nervous. I click the pen and I sign my signature upon the line. It could've always been me signing my life away and I would feel no different. I hand him the pen and he places it inside his suit.

"I'll be back on the weekend. There'll be someone to train you for the event." He says as he packs everything back into the box and closes it. He takes the box up as if it weighed nothing and places it in the corner of my room.

"I'm afraid that's all I have for you right now. If you ever need to get in contact with me you know how to. In case you don't want to contact me telepathically, you can always ask your parents to get in contact with me." He moves closer to me and I wrap my arms around myself. He notices my sudden

\uncomfort and shifts away.

I shy away looking from at him and instead I focus on my stuffies sitting on my window seat. He follows my gaze and looks at all of my teddy bears, stuffed animals, and other stuffies. Embarrassment creeps up my neck and it leaves a trail of burning fire in its wake. My cheeks flare up and I look away from the window seat.

Please don't talk about it, please don't say that it's weird for a sixteen-year-old to have stuffed animals. I beg, plead and pray inside my head that he ignores it but because I'm so loved by life, he walks over to it instead.

He sits at the edge of my window seat, right beside my stuffies. He looks at me and then gestures to one of my teddy bears. I nod my head and he takes it up, placing it in his lap. "Do you name them?" He asks, looking at the brown and yellow teddy bear. It's like a bee with antennas on its head and everything but in the shape of a bear. He's one of my favorites.

Is he asking me that question so that he can make fun of me? Regardless, I nod. "What's his name?" He asks, running his hand through its soft fur.

"Bee the Bear or just Bee. It's simple I know." I fiddle with the hem of my dress as I expect him to start ridiculing me but he does no such thing. To my complete and utter surprise, he smiles. It's a small smile but a smile nonetheless.

"No, it fits him." He says then he puts him down back to his position and walks closer to me. My goodness, what is wrong with this prince? He keeps walking close to me.

"Well, what do I do now?" I ask him. We're standing in front of one another not really doing anything. Are we supposed to be doing something? I know that I have some homework to do and an essay to write for Vampire History class but are we supposed to discuss something else? I've already signed the contract dictating that we will be pretending to be a couple to everyone else.

Since I didn't need my parents' signature, we were the only ones who know the reality of this relationship. I'm sixteen so I don't need their permission anymore. Once you turn sixteen you get that privilege.

"Now? Now you focus on school and I'll see you this weekend. Have a good week, Adara." He says then he opens my bedroom window and leaves.

The wind blows throughout my room and something flutters around my belly. It's not from the wind though. It's the way he said my name, the way he said that sentence with so much care attached to his voice. As if he truly cared about me. I know that he doesn't though. He's probably trying to get me to feel comfortable around him seeing that I'll be spending quite a lot of time with him in the coming weeks.

I snap out of it and I close my window, stopping the cool wind from blowing through. It's around six in the evening and it's cooling down from the heat of the summer. It's only August and it's so hot. I can't wait for fall, I want it to be cold again. I want to cuddle up in a million blankets sipping on hot cocoa. That's the dream.

I have no idea how vampires outgrew their 'allergy' to the sun. Did they even have it in the first place? How on earth did they appear in the first place? Who's to say that what they teach in Vampire History is accurate? After all, history is biased to whoever's lens we're seeing it through. Vampires are the most feared species on this planet, they have no weaknesses to our knowledge. Why would they willingly give us all of this information about them? If there's one thing humans love to do with knowledge, it's to turn it into a weapon. Were they thinking about that or not?

I get out my computer and I start getting my workstation together. I would love to finish this essay tonight. It's not due until Friday but I would love to finish it before then. I have a project for Art that we're supposed to go over tomorrow in class and knowing my Art teacher, she's going to make it unnecessarily long and difficult.

Thought about my phone rushes through my mind. Maybe Via texted me about today. I mean, I did leave a part of her question unanswered so she must be burning with the desire to know. I take up my phone from my night table.

She hasn't texted me but I have a few notifications from study groups and a text from my mom asking if I'm alright. I respond to my mom telling her that I'm fine. I continue scrolling down until I get to the very bottom of all of my notifications.

My heart falls and my heart pounds against my rib cage when I see the last notification. "No, no, no," I mutter to myself as the tears well up in my eyes and my lip starts to tremble. My throat no longer feels as if it's able to accommodate air, it's too tight. I shut my eyes as the memories from the past two years creep upon me once more.

I haven't had a panic attack in a few months and I don't want to have one right now. I've been going on a really good streak, please, please, please, don't make me break it. I don't want to break apart not again. I've done that enough already. I try as hard as I can to keep the thoughts and tears at bay but I'm not strong enough. I'm never strong enough.

I break down as sob after sob escapes my trembling lips and I sink to the floor. My phone falls out of my hand and onto my carpet. The text message reads:

Adara, baby, why are you ignoring me? You're making me angry. You know that you don't like it when I'm angry. Please call me so we can figure this out. I love you.