
The Prince of Sweden, Chance, comes to America and meets a Wisconsin girl from Kansas named Lane, who likes sports, country music, and fried food. His complete opposite. Lane decides that she's going to show Chance everything that's Wisconsin culture. R&R please.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,623 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 09-21-12 - Published: 09-18-12 - id: 3059126
|
|
A+ A- |
Hello all welcome to this new story of mine. Yup. I kind of based this girl off of me because I'm be-awesome like that.
I own this story and Lane and my friend owns Chance.
My friend and I walked into a local restaurant one day on a lunch break. I can remember every detail. The name of the place was Lehman's Supper Club, it wasn't famous or anything, but it had good food. My friend and I were stopping to some lunch on my lunch break.
Once we got our table I realized something, we didn't have ketchup. Every restaurant in Rice Lake had ketchup, except China Buffet. I got up to ask a person near us who had ketchup.
"Excuse me?" I asked a man who had platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
"Hmm?" He asked with mouth full of food.
"Could I borrow your ketchup?" I asked. He handed it to me. "Thanks."
He swallowed and smiled. "No problem. I don't really like ketchup anyway." He spoke with a slight accent that definitely wasn't from Wisconsin.
"You're insane if you don't like ketchup." My jaw dropped.
"Call me insane." He confirmed.
"Well, you are. Everybody likes ketchup." I explained.
"What about the people who don't like tomatoes?" He asked me.
"You can't taste the tomatoes in ketchup, it's too salty." I explained.
"I see your point." He agreed with me. "I'm Chance."
"I'm Lane." Yea, I know it's a boy's name, I really didn't care.
"Lane? Is that short for anything?" He asked.
"No, just Lane."
"That's pretty." He smiled. "Would you and your friend like to come sit with me?" He invited.
"Probably not, she's a huge flirt." I admitted. Which was true, she got all of the guys and I was practically invisible.
"And why, may I ask, do you think she'd flirt with me?" He asked.
"Because you're alive and a dude." I explained quickly.
"Alright then." He laughed.
"Chance, like the dog from Homeward Bound, right?" I asked, changing the subject.
"That's the one!" He confirmed.
"Odd name for a person, no offense." I added the last part quickly, not wanting to offend anybody.
"My mother found it cute." He shrugged.
"Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Don't worry yourself with it." He smiled. I could already tell he was a smiler.
"Wasn't going to." I told him.
"Good. Can't have that pretty face getting worry lines, can we?" He complimented me. I tried not to blush, it's not every day I get called pretty.
"Was that a failed attempt at flirting?" I asked as my friend got tired of waiting for our ketchup.
"Your friend just left." He ignored my question.
"Yea, she's impatient."
"And I don't suppose you would sit with me, so long as your friend left early?" Which was a formal invitation to sit and eat with him.
"Sure." I sat down across from him.
He called over a waiter. "Oder anything, it's on me."
"You really don't have to." I didn't want to owe him money, I couldn't even pay my student loan.
"It's no trouble." He said. I ordered a cheeseburger. He rolled his eyes and decided to order the most expensive thing on the menu for me.
"I don't like duck." I told him.
"Make it a chicken a la king." He gave the waiter a twenty dollar bill.
"I'm fine with a cheeseburger." I told him.
"Please?" He asked. "It's my understanding that its polite to order for a lady here."
"It was, like fifty years ago." I explained. Time had changed a lot since then.
"Alright, vacker." He sighed.
"What was that?" I asked, it definitely wasn't English, or French.
"Swedish." He answered.
I asked the ultimate stupid question, the 'here's your sign' question. "You're from Sweden, then?"
"Yes." He said as if it was obvious.
"Staying or visiting?" I had a lot of questions.
"I came over with my parents. I want to stay, but they'd hogtie me and throw me into the plane if I tried." He explained.
"Why?" I asked.
"They're very… controlling." He explained, well sort of.
"So are my parents but they still let me live here." I said not really getting his point.
"My parents can make anyone in Sweden do anything they want." He explained more.
"How?" I continued to ask.
"They have that way about them." He was like an onion I had peel lair after lair off of.
"How is the government in Sweden ran again?" I used a knife.
"Umm… it's a monarchy." He said.
"I figured." I leaned back in my chair.
"What?" He asked.
"Sweden has a monarchy and your parents control the country. I'm not stupid." I told him.
"I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry. I just don't like talking about it."
We spent the rest of my lunch break talking. I learned that being royalty isn't like the fairytales, and that he had to be proper. He was also arranged to be married and came here for a year to find somebody else that he truly loved. I wished him luck. Finding a good girl here was like finding a needle in the haystack. He learned that I'm from Kansas and was majoring in music.
After a half hour I had to go back to work, he bid me farewell and said that he wanted to see me again. I gave him the address to the bookshop I worked at and left.
I hope you enjoyed, REVIEW!
|
||||||