The Prince's Soulmate - S01 E18

Story

6 months ago

The Prince's Soulmate - S01 E18

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 18

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How Melissa Met Trey- Melissa’s POV

2 years ago

“Please, Mel,” Patrick begged as I walked away.

“Nope.”

“I’m begging you,” he said, rushing in front of me. “Just do me this one favor.”

“You’ve been saying that since I was ten.”

“And you know I love you for it.”

I frowned at him and he gave me the brightest smile he could muster. I sighed.

“Fine,” I waved him off. “But I’m not digging you out of your trouble another time.”

“Great choice, Mel,” he grinned. “I’ll send you the details.”

I shook my head at his carefree expression as he went back to typing on his phone.

Patrick was my uncle. He was my dad’s youngest sibling and it was obvious. He was twenty something but could be a complete child when he wanted to be.

“Okay, so it’s settled,” he grinned. “You’ll meet up with him tomorrow and just show him around the city.”

“I’m not babysitting for you again after this,” I grumbled. “Especially not for free.”

“I have an excuse,” he chuckled. “Something important came up.”

“You mean a date.”

“Hey, when you get to my age, you start feeling lonely,” he sighed dramatically. “You get tired of the same provincial life.”

“Okay, Belle.”

He stuck his lip out at me. “Hey, it could be fun. His name’s Trey and he’s six. Just take him to the aquarium or something.”

“You’re leaving a little kid in my hands.”

“In your capable hands,” he said, taking my hand in his solemnly.

I sighed. It was either that or spending the Saturday alone with my sister. We’d probably end up killing each other.

So that was how he convinced me to do this. I was now tasked with the job of showing his girlfriend’s friend’s kid around the town since they’d just moved here.

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I glanced around the coffee shop where I was supposed to meet Trey.

Who left a six year old alone in a coffee shop? Let’s hope he was there because I didn’t want to spend the Saturday running around town trying to find a lost kid.

I sighed, looking around the almost empty coffee shop. A group of adults sat around the counter sipping coffee while the barista lazed on her phone. A cop was eating a powdered donut. A guy around my age was staring out the windows with earphones in.

That was it. I frantically glanced around the room, my heartbeat quickening. I knew this was a bad idea. The six year old was gone.

I breathed in and out. Relax, Melissa. Maybe he just went to the bathroom.

I walked up to the barista, who continued staring at her phone.

“Um, excuse me.”

“What’s your order?” she droned without looking up.

“I’m not making an order. Have you seen a kid around here? About six years old?”

STORY CONTINUES BELOW

“Nope,” she said. She blew a bubble with her gum.

“Are you sure? I’m supposed to meet him right here.”

“Haven’t seen him.”

I sighed, running a frustrated hand over my hair. I sat on one of the stools at the counter and texted Patrick.

I’m at Tiny’s Coffee Shop, but I don’t see him anywhere. Are you sure his mom dropped him off?

No, he got there by himself

Why would you people leave a 6 year old unattended? What if he got kidnapped?

Did you try looking for him?

I rolled my eyes and decided to ask the cop. The barista’s eyes were so glued to her phone, she probably wouldn’t realize if someone walked in anyways.

“Good morning,” I said nervously.

He looked up at me and hurriedly wiped the sugar that coated his lips. Too bad his moustache was just as sugary.

“I’m looking for a little boy. About six years old. Have you seen him?”

“No, little miss. I can’t say I have,” he frowned. “What’s his name?”

“Trey.”

The teen looked over at us at the mention of the name. He took one of his earbuds out.

“Um… Melissa?”

I turned to him in surprise. Did I know him? I’d never seen him at school before. Maybe he went to one of the neighboring schools.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Trey,” he said with a smile.

“No you’re not.” I shook my head.

“Yes,” he said, looking confused. “I am.”

I gave the cop an apologetic smile and walked over to him.

“What I mean is, you’re not my Trey. I mean, the Trey I’m looking for.”

He cocked his head and I could see amusement creeping into his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” I frowned.

“Well, I’m supposed to meet a girl named Melissa here at 11,” he said glancing at his watch. “It’s 11:11.”

“I-”

He pulled up a picture on his phone. That was me alright. But, how?

I sat across from him and held a finger up. “Give me a second.”

There’s a guy claiming to be Trey and he has my picture, I texted Patrick, I thought you said he was 6!

That’s what the text said, he texted back a few seconds later.

Well check it again! Because unless he had a massive growth spurt, Trey’s a lot older than 6

I waited while Patrick re-checked the message he got.

Oh, you were right. He’s 16 😅 Sorry

How did you see 6?! 🙄

My bad. Make it a date. One day you might thank me for this 😉

Go away

I shook my head in disbelief and looked back up at Trey. “Looks like you’re my guy.”

He smiled and his eyes shimmered.

“Nice.”

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“Thanks for showing me around,” he said as we walked down the streets.

“Yeah, no problem. I made plans to go to the aquarium, but if you don’t want to, then we can do something else.”

“That sounds great, Melissa.”

I nodded. It actually turned out to be a pretty great day. He was a pretty chill guy. I got to know him a lot better too.

He loved music and his favorite color was purple, like Liz. He actually made me laugh with his animal impersonations as we walked through the aquarium.

His extroverted personality made the day much easier for me because awkward silences made me feel even more awkward.

“Congratulations!” a smiling woman shouted as we stepped into a pizza parlor for dinner. “You’re our one hundredth couple today.”

Streamers and balloons rained down on us as we stared at her.

“We’re not a-”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of counting. Just take the tickets,” she whispered, thrusting them into our hands.

We looked at them. Band concert tickets for next week. Trey’s face lit up with a smile.

“I love this band!”

“I’ve never heard of them,” I frowned, sitting at a table. “Are they good?”

He stared at me. “You’ve never heard The Mosaics?”

“Nope,” I said, popping the p.

He smiled slowly. “We need to change that.”

“I’m down,” I shrugged with a grin as our pizza came.