A/N: All right. Chapter 3 . . . I hope you like it . And anyway, how is it so far? Please leave me reviews and let me know what you think!

*Amaryllis*

Beauty Is a Beast

Riddles

I hang up my coat and mercifully step out of my heels. I sigh and walk to the kitchen where Vella inevitably is.

She's frosting my cake. I hold in a second sigh, as Vella hates useless sighing, as mentioned before. I slide into the seat at the counter I'd vacated when I left to great Arty, almost seven hours ago.

"What's the matter?" So to the point – I love this about my sister.

"Wrong? Oh, nothing." I, on the other hand, am never to the point. I accidentally let a sigh slip out.

Vella finishes the icing and starts aligning strawberries. The way she cut them, straight down through the center, makes them look like hearts. My heart's like one of those strawberries. Cut in half. "Out with it Aces."

I manage a half-smile at my nickname, but it quickly fades. "Well, you see, it's Arty, he - "

Vella's expression darkens, but neither she nor I have the chance to say anything, because right then Derek chooses to walk in. He plops down next to me.

"Your parents are waiting to officially here the news." He tells me.

"Unh," I reply, plunking my head into my arms, across the countertop. The peach-colored surface is smooth and cool. I think I'll just stay here, thank-you very much.

Derek looks between Vella and I. "What did I do?" he asks, and I spare him my left eye.

"Nothing," I reply into my elbow, not lifting my head to speak. It feels heavy, especially with the built up pressure of all the tears I'm waiting to shed. If I don't go tell my parents now, I'll be a mess when I finally get out there. Well, you know, an emotional one. I can't look a mess because:

I have waterproof mascara.

I'm perfect, meaning I look beautiful when I cry, in case you forgot.

Vella nudges the last strawberry in place, her nose crinkled as she focuses to make everything flawless. "Acelynn," she starts, "Didn't get her proposal." Vella sounds sad, even if Arty isn't her favorite guy. I mean, they get along, but there's always been a sort of friction between them. Like they were waiting for a reason to have a shouting match at each other.

Remember what I said? Vella's the nicest, most patient person I know. I've only ever vaguely wondered why Arty would tick her off so badly. He's not such an awful person as to make Vella angry, is he?

Nope. Not my Arty. She's just paranoid. Right?

But what if she is right? Stupid inner voice.

Pft, whatever, I tell it.

That promptly shuts it up.

Anyway, Vella sounds sorry for me.

"I'm so sorry, Ace," Derek tells me. A single tear slides from my left eye, across my nose, and onto my right wrist beneath it. I feel Derek's hand awkwardly patting my arm, and Vella's more steady hand rubbing my back. Vella better have kids. She is so not allowed to waste her wonderful mothering talents on her emotional wreck of a sister.

"He didn't even know," I mumble, "That – that it was our a – an- anniversary!" More tears. Why wouldn't he remember? Why wouldn't Arty care? I love him! He loves me!

Wait.

That's all that matters. We love each other. Arty was right, as usual.

"No, it's o-okay." I hiccup, but I'm done crying. I smile brightly. "I'll go tell Papa and Estee." I suggest, and hop off my stool. My friends stare at me. Well, I suppose that was all very fast, but honestly, try to keep up! I'm miraculous. I pull these kinds of things off every day.

"Papa, Estee!" I call, "Arty didn't propose. But that's okay; I'm not ready yet anyway."

Papa and Estee exchange baffled glances, but I hardly register them as I run up the stairs to change, and apologize to Arty.

I slip into my favorite winter pajamas: black with multi-sized blue polka dots. I brush my hair, braid it, and remove all my make-up. I put on my fuzzy slippers, and collapse with a blanket into the chair near my window. The chair is in the corner, set on an angle, and has a perfect view from the window; I can see the street below, and across from our house is Derek's. I slip out my phone. It has a bubble-gum pink cover on it.

Hey im sorry about freakin out earlier.

Usually I have a pet peeve: perfect grammar while texting. But I am in such a hurry to apologize, that I don't even worry about it. It takes a couple minutes, but Arty texts back:

Yeah no prob. My shoot's at 3 tmw.

I am such a terrible girlfriend. I completely forgot his photo shoot tomorrow. Er, no reason to cause a fight (again):

Ill be there 3

Arty asked a couple weeks ago if I'd go with him. Of course, wonderful person that I am, I agreed.

Bonus: my picture with Arty splattered all over magazine covers. We are the most beautiful couple out there; why not let everyone know it? Ooh, a reply!

I know

Oh, good. He doesn't doubt me. I almost sigh in relief, but really, I've done that enough today.

We finish our conversation, and I get my robe. It's time for my cake.

I arrive in the living room to everyone talking. They all look up when I enter.

"Oh, good! I'll go cut the cake! Honey, I need your help." This comes from Estee, addressing Papa.

"Er, right." He replies, following my step mom from the room. This leaves Vella, Derek, and I.

I clear my throat, cutting through the tension that had built up. "I've apologized."

"Wonderful!" From Vella, and a "Erm, great Ace." From Derek.

Hang on. Had they been talking about me?

"Nope." Says Vella.

How'd she read my mind like that?

Vella laughs, "Your face is the most expressive one I know, Acelynn."

Question answered.

"And," Derek continues for Vella. "We weren't talking about you. Just Arty . . . and you. As a couple. Together. Not just you."

Vella pokes him lightly in the shoulder, the 'Shut-up-you're-blabbering' signal.

"Oh," I say, relieved. I plop on the couch next to them. "What about us?"

Vella shrugs. "Just wondering when the proposal would come. Don't you think Arty . . ." she trails off, looking at me to continue. I nod my head, beautiful caramel colored braid swaying.

"Don't you think he's a tad controlling? Doesn't it bother you?" Vella and Derek ask these at the same time.

"Well . . . Yeah, I guess it does." I say thoughtfully. "But" I continue, "Arty's just watching out for me. A ton of people are jealous of him, you know."

Derek laughs weakly, and Vella manages a small smile.

"Yeah." They both say in sync. But they sound unsure, and still look odd. My parents come in with cake, and the stifling conversation dissolves.

I walk into Vella's room before I go to my own to sleep. The lights are on, and she's reading, of course - something on human behaviors. I roll my eyes and sit at the foot of her bed.

"Why do you read that stuff?" I ask, crinkling my nose. Bo-ring.

"Because I want to put all those awful criminals in the world in jail." She answers.

"And studying this helps because . . ."

"I'm not sure what field I want to go into yet. But if I can learn people's behaviors and study them, maybe I can tell the innocent from the guilty. I can help with justice."

"Yeah. Just desserts and all that."

"Exactly." Vella smiles at me when she looks over the top her textbook. When I was little, I thought she'd be a lawyer, or a judge. Though strong-willed, Vella wouldn't be able to do that. Her conscious would never let her decide someone's fate, especially if she was defending someone guilty. Uh-uh.

She's gone back to her book, and I don't want to disturb her again, but I can't help it. I need to know.

"Vella. What were you really talking about in the living room?"

"Look, I wanted to tell you, but you were so happy after apologizing - "

"What? Vels, what is it?" I am concerned now. Vella usually doesn't hesitate to hide her opinion. What could be wrong?

"I got an odd note in a textbook I bought . . . This one, actually."

"You bought it used, right? Could be someone's old notes." But Vella is already shaking her head.

"You don't understand. Yes, it's used. But I bought it online.

"So?"

"So it would've been checked or something, right? Even if it hadn't been, Ace . . . The note's addressed to me."

I almost choke. "What?" I splutter.

"Here."

Wordlessly, I take the note. It's hand written, on regular notepaper. I read it out loud.

"Vella,

Intelligence always comes before Beauty.

You're needed, Vella.

Because you are Intelligent.

Help Justice."

My eyes widen. "It's a riddle!"

Vella grimaces. "I know. I just can't figure out what it means."

"When did you find the note?"

"The day I got the book. Two days ago."

I shrug. "Probably doesn't mean anything."

"I wouldn't be worried. If I hadn't found this."
She hands me another slip of paper much like the first; it's torn notebook paper. It just repeats the second line: "Intelligence always comes before Beauty."

"Where did you find this one?" I ask.

"On the bottom of my Burger King tray. I went out Christmas shopping yesterday, and stopped there to eat. Acelynn, nobody ever knows about my shopping, even you, since I don't want people snooping for what I got them."

I didn't quite know what to say to that. Not the shopping, the note business.

"It gets weirder. Look at the back of the first note."

I did. It had an address - one that was in France.

"Um, wow, that's . . . pretty . . . " Indescribable? Weird? Cryptic? Nothing seems to fit.

"I know." Vella agrees. I yawn.

"We'll figure it out in the morning."

"Aw, no, Vella, I can stay up, help you f-figure this o-out." My own yawning interrupts me. Vella gives me a look.

It clearly says 'Get-to-bed-you-are-not-a-night-owl-like-me'. 'Beauty sleep' and all that.

"Fine," I grumble. "But don't go figuring this out without me! We'll make copies, get it to the police - " Vella laughs.

"All right, Acelynn. We'll do that." She says from her bed.

"Yes, we will!" I tell her, and close her door.

I arrive in my room and get in bed.

When I wake up, I go to Vella's room, where she should be asleep. I'm going to wait for her to wake, so we can start straight away.

She's not there. I check the kitchen, her favorite reading spots, and her hide-and-seek place as a kid.

I can't find her.

Two hours later, Derek, Papa, Estee and I have searched everywhere.

Vella's gone. Nobody's seen her since last night.

A/N: Sorry it's late. I mean, I hate it when authors sporadically update, and now I'm doing it? I'm such a hypocrite. In my defense though, I finally got to read The Son of Neptune and then I discovered The Kane Chronicles. I love Rick Riordan's books. I didn't stop reading for a week.

Reviews are still appreciated!

*Amaryllis*