Page 73 of Prince Charmless
Amongst her groceries, I grab a can of coconut milk whipped cream. “And look at that, vegan whipped cream. This country has everything.”Just stop talking already.
He eats another strawberry, takes the can from me, then sprays the whipped cream into his mouth.
“You know, for a prince, you really don’t have any manners.” I put a hand on my hip. “You haven’t even said good morn—
SCHHHRRRK
Taylor cocks his head at the generous dollop of cream and sugar that rests upon my beak as if to admire his work. The gesture seems so natural to him, as if spraying whipped cream on my face is comparable to saying hello.
“I think you’re breaking rule number one,” I say, trying to ignore my white clown nose.
He hums.
“Are you not saying any words to me today? Just caveman noises?” I raise a hand to wipe my nose.
But Taylor snatches my wrists and pins them onto the counter. Just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he inhales the whipped cream, his tongue caressing the side of my nose for only a second. Vivid memories of a few days ago emerge from repressed areas of my mind, from when his mouth was just a bit lower. I hate that I enjoy an action so perverted and disgusting.
He swallows and releases my wrists. “Now, that—” he says, swiping the last bit of cream with his finger. “Would be breaking rule number one.”
I steal the can from him. “You’ve lost your nitrous oxide privileges.” He tries to take another strawberry, but I move in front of the cutting board. “You have to respect the jurisprudence of the pinky promise. Last I checked, this is a civilized society. Are we all just supposed to descend into anarchy?”
He looks around. “Is there a jar somewhere I can put some coins in?”
“With your wealth, that’s not a fair punishment.”
Taylor smiles with full teeth. They practically sparkle. “Well, I have a way to make it up to you,” he sings.
He seems to be in a goofy mood this morning.
“How?”
“I got you something.”
“I thought I told you no more gifts. Last time you got me something, it was the most expensive necklace I’ve ever laid my working-class eyes on.”
“Well, you’re in luck because this time I got you worthless crap. Close your working-class eyes and hold out your hand.”
I do what he tells me, but as soon as something touches my palm, I pull away.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I feel like you’re going to give me a spider you found outside.”
When he laughs, I open my eyes, but there’s nothing in his hands.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just remember doing that to Tom as a child, but it backfired because he just befriended the spider.”
I snicker too, because it’s classic brother shenanigans. Mateo did that to me once with a frog.
Taylor pulls out a small object from his pocket. It’s a magnet. The top readsCape Cod,and the image below it is of a boatsaying ‘You light up my life’ to a lighthouse. “I thought it was cute because like, I’m the lighthouse and you’re the boat.”
Taylor points to the lighthouse and boat, respectively. I’d like to roll my eyes or say something snarky, but I can’t even feign annoyance. All I can give is my stupid grin. Usually, kids grow out of their fascination with magnets, but not me. I’ve always appreciated how they attract and repel.
I clutch the plastic to my chest. “How did you know I hoard tacky fridge magnets?”
“Because I’ve seen your fridge.”
