To Be A Princess

Now I was for it.

It was four o’clock in the morning, and I was about to experience the biggest telling-off of my short life. Though it wasn’t just any morning, it was the eighteenth of July, otherwise known as my birthday.

As I stood transfixed by the horror of what I had just done, the porch light flicked on and the door flew open, revealing my dad wearing his atrocious velvet dressing gown and an equally terrifying facial expression. I turned away from the car and waved cheerily, still clutching my broken stiletto.

“Hey, dad!” I cried a little too enthusiastically, “I was just off to bed and-” Dad shot me a look that could have caused a bloodthirsty alligator to burst into tears and run off back to swamp.

“Alex,” He thundered dangerously, “What the blazes have you done to my car?” The alcohol still remaining in my system caused me to snigger quietly. Any normal person at a time like this would be swearing their heart out, but my dad was his usual, non-cursing self. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, but you won’t be after I ban you from going out for the rest of the summer holidays-” I think the lecture would have continued, but dad had just caught sight of the carnage behind me, “Oh no! Not Lexie...”

I backed away from the car and gave him a nervous grin. My dad had rather eccentrically given his precious Jaguar E-type a name: Lexie. I always thought it was weird that men give their cars female names, why not something masculine like Trevor or Dave? But to be honest, naming your car anything in the first place is mental. “Dad, I can explain, you see me and Jules were-“

“That’s another thing; you’re not to see Julian either. He’s a bad influence.” That made me burst out laughing.

“Are you serious?” I managed though my giggles. I had been best mates with Jules since he chucked raspberry yoghurt at my head in nursery school. After forcing his head into the sandpit until he apologised, we decided to call a truce and join forces; we’d been best buddies ever since. Being best mates with a boy has its problems however, firstly my dad -and everyone else at school -thinks we harbour secret feelings for each other-think Calamity Jane and Wild Bill Hickok-so whenever he’s round at mine, dad won’t even let me close the door if he’s in my room; My father doesn’t seem to realise I look upon Jules as my sister, albeit a hairy one. Luckily for me, dad hadn’t figured out that my hirsute sister was hiding in a bush next to the garage, where he had fled after I sent my shoe flying through the Jag’s windshield.

“Yes, I am deadly serious!” What followed was a very lengthy scolding on why I should never again mix high heels and alcohol.

“But dad, I was just showing Jules my Bionic Woman impression and the shoe came off-”

“I don’t want to hear it; just go to your room. We’ll speak about this later.” I mumbled yet another apology and sloped off to my room, gazing down sadly at my destroyed shoes. What a crap start to a birthday. I opened my door to find Jules slouched in my computer chair, updating his fashion blog. He must have climbed through the window as usual; it was lucky my room was on the ground floor, as skinny jeans were not designed for climbing.

“Someone got in shizz.” He chorused, spinning round on the chair to face me. I stuck my finger up at him and slumped down cross-legged on my fluffy rug.

“Shut it you, not only did I bust my new shoes, dad said he’s confiscating my heels for a month.”

“Bad times, on the plus side, I just found a picture of the new waistcoat I want,” I shook my head, trying to stop myself from grinning, “Okay, never tell anyone on the rugby team I just said that.”

Jules was what you would describe as a metrosexual; which made him surprisingly popular with the girls at Layton High School. Personally however, a guy who knew infinitely more about fashion than me was a bit of a turn-off, I usually just wore what I liked regardless of current trends; a fact which made Julian weep on occasions.

“Switch off my laptop when you’re done,” I yawned, shuffling over to my bed, “I need to sleep for a very long time.”

“But you’re a big sixteen year old now!” Jules cried, getting up from the chair.

“Whoop-di-do!” I shouted out sardonically. “Excuse me for not being more excited, but I have just been grounded for the summer and lost the good half of my shoe collection. So, can you please leave me to dream about happy things like cheesecake and the Topshop sale?”

“Don’t get your moody knickers in a twist, your Bionic Woman impression was worth the grounding; man, that was one awful show!” I chuckled in spite of myself.

“They rebuilt me.” I said in a bad American drawl, doing comedy judo-chops, whilst Jules creased up beside me. “Yeah, your right, my B.W impression is the stuff of legend.” I sniggered, raising my eyebrow. Jules stepped forward and enveloped me in a bear hug.

“Happy Birthday Alex!” He yawned, standing back to admire his hair in the mirror. “I’ll see you later.” I didn’t bother telling him dad had banned me from hanging out with him, he’d find a way round it.

“Laters.” I waved, as he clambered out of the window into the misty summer morning.

I wish I had known then, that I wouldn’t see him later, I wouldn’t see him for a very long time. Because that was the day I was kidnapped.

It’s a long story...