Chapter Twelve

I actually helped Belle go through the library to clear it out and make sure there wasn't anyone like me trying to stow away for the night. It was big enough that I imagined I could have probably found a way to remain undetected if I had really wanted to, but of course I hadn't really wanted to spend the night in such a place. It was better than sleeping on a park bench, but I was still holding hope I might get to spend the night on an actual bed, or at least a couch or something.

When I thought about it, it was a little peculiar that a high school student would be left in charge of locking up such a big, city owned building for the night, but if anybody was responsible enough to be given such a task, it was Belle. There were a couple other employees floating around but she had let already let them go home. (Even the faceless extras of this world had a place to go, it seemed. Only I was without.)

Her private conversation with her father hadn't lasted long, but it apparently went pretty well because she didn't come back to shrug and tell me, "Sorry, Chuck, you're out of luck." I was actually going to get to go home with her…Belle, likely future class valedictorian and unanimous babe.

I felt a secret tinge of satisfaction at this. Only Day One and I was already going home with the most unattainable girl in the school. Shweeeeet! (I mean, sure, she was only bringing me there out of pity, but hey, you gotta count your victories where you find 'em, am I right? The fellas will understand.)

After we had swept through the building, Belle locked up the big library doors and we stood out there to wait for her father to pick us up. It wasn't long before a clunky, beat-up old rust-bucket came clattering forward. We could hear it approaching before we saw it; it sounded sort of like a robot manatee simultaneously giving birth and being bisected. One of its headlights was out and lots of smoke was coming out the exhaust pipe, but to me, it was like getting picked up in a stretch limo.

"Whoa, is that a Pinto?" I asked, laughing in disbelief. "You guys have those here?"

Belle gave me a look. "Don't make fun." Her voice was slightly defensive.

"What? Oh come on, like I'm in any position to be mocking anyone."

"Well I didn't want to be the one to remind you."

It came to a stop in front of the building and as we went down the steps, Belle looked at me and started talking in a quick, quiet voice.

"Okay, so my dad's a little eccentric, but he's still a very nice man, so try to be respectful, okay? No…locker room humor or whatever it is you're used to."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a wee tiny bit offended by that. "I'm not some kind of animal, Belle." (Of course, that was certainly debatable.)

"I'm just saying." She paused at the passenger side door before opening it.

"What?"

"Uh, just a disclaimer, where we live, it's not in, like, the worst part of town exactly, but it's right by the…uh…sketchy area, if you will. Just so you know."

I grinned at her confidently. The idea of a ghetto in Disneyland was laughable (although the real-life surrounding city of Anaheim aka "Anacrime" might have a few words to say on that subject.) "I don't think I'm too worried about it."

"Just wanted to give you a head's up."

She swung open the door and I opened the back door, then we both climbed in.

"Hi, Papa," Belle said cheerfully, pecking her father on the cheek.

He was just as I remembered him to be: short, balding, portly, and with a bushy white mustache. He sort of was like a chubbier version of Professor Porter, although he seemed to be even more scatterbrained. But I could see the warmth in his eyes and in his smile. Clearly, Belle had been raised by a father who truly cared about her. I have no idea how she turned out so attractive, but her mom must have been a real looker because "Papa" wasn't exactly going to be winning any beauty pageants any time soon.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, before twisting his chunky body back so that he could get a look at me. I immediately felt relaxed by his smile. "And you must be Belle's new friend Shane."

"Thank you so much for letting me come over for dinner, sir," I said. "It really means a lot."

"Oh, it's no problem at all," said Belle's father. "Really, it's not. I'm just glad to see Belle is talking to a boy again. After the way things ended with that Eric-"

"Papa!" Belle cried.

"Oh, sorry, honey," he apologized, giving me a conspiratorial wink. "You can call me Maurice."

I just smiled back at him, anxious to please, as he put the car back into drive. He didn't seem like he would be that hard of a guy to win over, as long as I stayed polite, friendly, and respectful of his daughter. Then again, my task at hand didn't exactly gel with the whole "respecting his daughter" bit at all. I was supposed to be some kind of sexual hurricane, indiscriminately plowing my way through all of these Disney heroines, if possible. Even Belle. It was highly doubtful that she would be exempt from the list. She was one of the most popular and idolized characters back home, if I remembered correctly.

Still, I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a little teeny tiny part of me that felt like an asshole for looking at the one person who was helping me out in this world as though she was simply a commodity to obtain and use…like a video game boss at the end of a level whose defenses I had to figure out how to exploit and defeat. I had to remind myself that she wasn't real; none of them were. There could be no guilt in manipulating what were essentially living cartoon characters.

But it had been chilly outside and the warmth I was feeling inside of the chugging, whistling vehicle certainly felt real, and it was definitely preferable to the alternative of bumming my own way outside, alone.

I decided I would take it slow with Belle. I had to. She was too smart, too self respecting to be easily manipulated by me. Sure, I could have fun messing with her proclivity for melodious movie lyrics about bakers and "great wide somewheres," whether she knew where it came from or not, but getting into her pants was a whole different story. If an opportunity presented itself, then sure, but for now, she was my only real ally and if I screwed things up with her by trying to jump her bones right away, just after I had practically met her, I would almost certainly and quite literally be left out in the cold.

There were plenty of other fish in the sea. Or under the sea, I should say. Heh-heh.

"What are you giggling about back there?" Belle asked me.

"What?" I asked, coughing. "Oh, nothing. I made a joke in my head."

"About what?"

"It's not even worth explaining."

Belle rolled her eyes and turned back around. "Mm-hmm. I should just say right now, sorry for his personality, Papa, he's a bit weird."

"Well that's perfect for our little family, isn't it?" he asked. "I know this may come as a surprise to you, Shane, but we have been told by some that we are a little…well, odd."

"I am not odd!" Belle protested. She hesitated a moment before adding, "Am I?"

"Super odd," I said. "The oddest. I should call you Odd-Job, you're so odd."

"Ha!" Maurice barked. "That's a good one. Odd-Job. What a cute little name."

"There is nothing cute about that name, Papa," said Belle, a trifle annoyed.

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Do not encourage him."

"I've got way more where that came from," I said. "Believe me. I've got jokes for days."

"I love jokes!" Maurice exclaimed. "You know, Belle, I think I like him already. How'd you two meet?"

"She found me at the discount shop," I said. "I was half off. They were ready to throw me in the scrap heap when she got me, bless her soul."

Maurice burst out laughing. "The discount shop! That's hilarious!"

Belle shook her head. "I'm beginning to regret this already."

"Tell me another one!" Maurice said excitedly.

I tried to keep him amused for the next few minutes of our car ride, as Belle sat there trying not to face-palm every other second. Fortunately for me, Maurice was the best kind of audience, really easy to please. If more folks were like him, you'd see a lot more people braving stand-up.

I vaguely noticed that, outside, the buildings were growing a little more drab, the streets a little more cracked and rundown. It's not like there was much litter or people smoking crack on the corners or anything, but you could tell that after turning on a few streets, we weren't in the same type of upscale area that the school and library had been.

Then we came to a stoplight and I saw something that made me do a double take.

"Are those…pirates?" I asked incredulously.

I heard Maurice press the button that automatically locked our doors. Glancing at him and Belle, I saw they both had the same nervous look on their face.

On one of the corners of the intersection we were stopped at, there was a group of grungy looking ruffians loitering in front of a boarded up building near a dark alley. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but they seemed to definitely have some kind of pirate theme going. Don't get me wrong, it's not like they had peg legs and big brass buckles on their shoes or anything, but most of them had bandanas, tattoos, scruffy faces, and I was pretty sure at least one had an eye patch.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"N-nothing, don't worry," said Maurice, but he didn't sound convincing at all.

"Papa, maybe you should just run the light," Belle said, her voice worried.

"No, I…I can't afford any more tickets."

"Is the money really worth it?"

"It's not just the money, Belle, it's the police. They're just looking for an excuse to…oh thank Disney, they're leaving."

Most of the pirates, some of whom had been looking over at our car with an unsettling leer, were heading back into the alley. However, the walking sign turned on for the pedestrian signal, and the remaining three began to cross the street, which led them right in front of where we were stopped.

"Oh confound it," Maurice sputtered.

"They waited for the light to turn," I said. "They can't be that bad. I mean, back in Los Angeles, the criminals-"

"Quiet," Belle said. Something in her tone made me comply.

The pirates, or whatever they were, looked over at us as they passed in front of our car. The vehicle was too much of a piece of junk to interest them at all, but when they caught a glimpse of Belle, big smiles appeared on their lips. I noticed more than one gold or silver tooth in those lustful grins as they suddenly stopped where they stood, right in front of our bumper.

"Papa…" Belle said.

A pirate made an obscenely ugly kissy face at her. Maurice's face turned pale.

One of the other pirates put his palms down on the hood and the kissy-faced one came around to the passenger side of the car, the side Belle and I were on, ill intent written all over his face.

"Papa!" Belle said, sounding alarmed.

"Hold on!" Maurice said as he slammed his foot on the gas. The tires squealed and then we jolted forward, just before the light turned green for us. The pirates jumped out of the way of our car as it sped forward, bolts and sparks presumably flying off the back, if not also a small trail of flames.

Belle slumped down in her seat in relief, breathing hard. "That was…" She trailed off.

"Are you both all right?" Maurice asked us, his voice a little shaky.

"Uh yeah," I said, not quite sure what almost just happened. "Can someone explain to me who those guys were?"

"Just a bunch of hoodlums up to no good!" Maurice spat. "They're ruining this side of town!"

"They're the Pirates," Belle muttered. "They're a gang. If you ever see some, avoid them like the plague. Nothing good ever comes from anything they're involved in."

"What do they do, loot and plunder?" I joked. "Board enemy ships, not take showers?"

This time, neither Belle nor Maurice were laughing.

"It's not a joke, Shane," Belle said. "They're bad news. Trust me. They've hurt a lot of people."

"Let's not talk about them anymore," said Maurice, cranking up the tinny music on the radio.

It wasn't too long before we came to a residential street tucked in between bigger streets that led to a little cul-de-sac right at the end. The houses were all pretty modest, but the street seemed quiet and lacking the danger factor that the way down here had.

"There it is," Maurice said, "Home sweet home."

Belle's one-story house sort of resembled her cottage from the movie. It definitely wasn't much bigger than her illustrated residence, but the little yard looked well tended and the paint job looked somewhat recent.

"That is an adorable little house," I remarked.

Belle looked back at me. "Stop it."

"No, I'm serious," I said. "I like it. This whole street seems nice. Nice and quiet."

"We have good neighbors," Maurice said. "People who care about keeping our neighborhood safe, which is getting harder and harder to do nowadays, what with those Pirates and Gypsies and Lost Boys running around, or whatever their names are."

The inside of the house was about what I expected. It was clean, if a little cluttered, and filled with books. There were also a lot of strange gizmos I couldn't even begin to describe, no doubt inventions of Maurice. I wondered what kind of modern job an "inventor" would have in this world. Maybe in his spare time he had invented Pinterest. That'd be pretty funny. But I imagined he'd be living in a nicer part of town if that were true.

There were many pictures hanging on the walls, and on the mantles. Most of them had a young Belle in them. She looked like she had been a happy kid. One caught my eye in particular: a picture of a younger, thinner, less bald Maurice with a beautiful smiling brunette woman. Belle was there between them, looking to be around seven or eight years old and happy as could be.

"Wow, you look just like your mom," I remarked.

Belle hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can I take your backpack?"

I glanced back at her. "Uh, sure. Thanks."

She took it and swiftly went to set it down behind one of the comfy looking couches. Maurice came and paused next to me. I saw a nostalgic smile appear on his face.

"Your wife was very beautiful," I said to him.

"Yes she was," he said, his voice distant, "It's a wonder how I got so lucky, huh?"

"No way," I said. "Look at you there. Look at that hair! You were a total stud!"

He cackled with laughter again. "Now I know you're joking!" He waggled a finger at me. "This guy's a real character, Belle, be careful around him. He could sell ice to an Eskimo."

"Oh trust me, I already know," she said.

"Now, usually Belle cooks," Maurice said as he began to move toward the kitchen. "But since you're here as her friend, I thought it might be nice if I try and whip something up."

Belle looked a bit alarmed as she took a step forward. "Papa, are you sure?"

He waved her off. "Yes, yes, Belle, I'm not helpless."

"I don't want you to burn the house down…"

"We survived when your mother passed, didn't we?"

Belle's eyes darted over to me for a millisecond. "That was some time ago…"

"It's not up for discussion!" Maurice said as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Go amuse yourselves until dinner is ready!"

I turned to Belle with a sleazy grin and wagged my eyebrows, which promptly earned me a laugh of ridicule. Damn it.

"Do you have any homework, Don Juan?" she asked me.

"Racist," I said.

Belle rolled her eyes as she turned, and then actually put a little bit of sauciness in her walk as she said, "Well I'm going to my room to work on homework. If you want to stay in here, be my guest."

I didn't need to be told that twice.

Her room was in direct contrast to the clutter of the den. It was nearly meticulous in its cleanliness and organization, save for a few books scattered about here and there. She had a desk with a computer and a chair near a window nook, which had a cushioned seating beneath the sill.

"Your room is disgustingly clean," I said.

"Well that's a bit of an oxymoron, now isn't it?" she asked, going over to her desk. "Do you want the chair?"

"No I'm good."

"You can do your homework on the window seat?"

"…homework?"

"Don't you have any?"

I laughed. "I don't care about homework."

Belle looked up at the ceiling. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Because I'm obviously already too intelligent to need to do the drivel they assign us."

"Yes, that's it. That's completely what I was thinking. How'd you know?"

We settled into our sitting areas and I gazed out the window, at the moon and stars glimmering in the dark sky. I almost started singing, 'Somewhere Out There' before remembering that was from 'An American Tail,' which was most certainly not Disney. Singing a non-Disney song out here might get me zapped with lightning, or swallowed up by the ground, or something.

"Is your dad okay with us being in here alone?" I asked.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Belle asked pleasantly, playing dumb.

"Well, you know…we might do something…"

"Like what?"

I swung my legs around to face her and one of her eyebrows arched. "Well, I can show you better than I can tell you…if you'd like."

Belle started laughing again. "Not so fast, Turbo. Cool your jets."

Double damn it.

"Too shy?" I asked, going back to my seat and shrugging nonchalantly. "I understand. I'm a lot to handle for most girls, even the valedictorian of Disney High."

"I'm not the valedictorian."

"You will be."

"It's much too early to tell."

"So I'm too much to handle for the vice president of the senior class then, whatever."

"I think you're too much to handle for yourself."

I flashed what I thought to be a winning grin at her. "Sure about that?"

Belle just shook her head, looking amused. "You are positively villainous. My own father in the kitchen, cooking a meal for you, after letting you into his home out of the kindness of his heart-"

My expression soured. "Okay, okay-"

She was on a roll though and continued, "Out of the KINDNESS OF HIS HEART. And here you are trying to TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HIS GOOD WILL-"

"OKAY!" I bellowed. "God!"

She stopped, looking smug as all get out, and I gave her a dirty look, not that she cared. She just sat there all perfect and pretty and judge-fuckin-mental.

"You're a terrible person."

"Shut up!"

Finally, Belle started giggling, quite pleased with herself. "I'm just trying to make sure you respect yourself, Shane. I'm looking out for you is all. You see?"

"Yeah thanks for the concern," I grumbled.

"Anyway, I am going to get started on my homework since I actually care about my future."

"Maybe I have more pressing concerns than just doing schoolwork," I shot back. "You know, like where I'm going to sleep for the night? Or for the rest of the year?"

Belle cringed a bit. "I'm still working on that."

But I was already pouting (mostly to make her feel bad.) It didn't say much for my self esteem to let a fictional character get the best of me in a war of words.

"I'm going to text some people, okay?" she said, her tone a little gentler. "We have some time."

"Easy for you to say."

"Hey!" she said. "I don't have to be doing any of this."

I glowered. "I know."

"I don't expect you to grovel or anything, but a little gratitude would be nice."

"THANKS."

"You're WELCOME."

We sat there in silence for awhile, after she sent a few texts without telling me who they were going to, and then started working on her homework. I plugged my phone into charge and actually really looked in it for the first time that entire day. To my dismay, all of my contacts were gone.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I mumbled.

"Hmm?" Belle asked.

"Nothing," I said. "Do you have, like, an Xbox or something?"

"A what?"

"Oh come on, are you serious?" I demanded. "You people don't even have video games here?"

"Oh," she said. "I've never played a video game in my life."

"But in this world there are PlayStations and Xboxes and Nintendo, right?"

"Uh, yeah, if that's what they're called. But we don't even own a TV in my house."

"WHAT?"

Belle looked defensive. "Don't look at me like we're so weird."

"Are you guys robots?"

"No! We're just smart."

"Who doesn't have a TV?"

"We don't, that's who."

"Why not?"

"Because we read a lot! There's so much-so much-mindless, inane…" Her voice dropped a couple octaves and she looked around the room before whispering, "…bullshit on the TV…"

I grinned. "Did you just curse, Belle?"

"I didn't want to. You made me."

"I didn't make you do anything."

"Well you got me all worked up. I'm very passionate about how incredibly stupid the media is and how stupid it makes other people our age act as a result. It's infuriating to me, it really is."

"Wow, Belle, tell us how you really feel."

"You're very annoying, you know that?"

"Got you all hot and bothered, do I?"

"You wish."

"Just saying."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Okay," I said, hesitating for a beat. "Let's talk about your mom."

Belle stared at me. "Why."

I shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just curious. You look just like her. Do you act just like her too?"

"I wish I was anything like her," Belle said. "She was a complete angel. Everybody loved her." She paused before adding, "She died when I was ten. Cancer."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. But it's been a long time. So I've come to grips with it."

"You really do look like her. I'm not just saying that."

Belle couldn't meet my eyes but there was a shy smile on her face. "Thank you."

I smiled back at her. "You know, not many people would help me like you're doing."

"It's nothing."

"No it's not. It says a lot about you, Belle. I know it's not my place to say because I didn't know her, but…I bet your mom would be really proud of how you're helping out someone who needs it so badly."

It was hard to tell since she was avoiding my gaze but I could have sworn I saw her eyes start to mist up a little bit. That actually sent a shock to my system. I've never liked seeing girls cry, but there should be a law against letting girls as pretty as Belle get to the point of tears. It made me feel all anxious inside, for some reason.

We heard Maurice holler out, "Belle! Dinner's ready!"

"Finally," Belle said, quickly standing up and still avoiding my gaze. "Let's go eat."

I followed her out and thought I saw her run her fingers across her eyes for the briefest of seconds before continuing on as though nothing was wrong.

The two of us quickly set the table together and sat down as Maurice presented some kind of grilled salmon with these weird little potato cake things.

"Wow," I said.

"You really cooked this, Papa?" asked Belle. "You?"

"Surprised, aren't you?" he asked. "I'm not completely senile yet, Belle. I can still pull some magic out of the hat on occasion."

It actually tasted really good. It was the first good home-cooked meal I had had in awhile. Even back in my own world, I didn't get too many opportunities to eat very good meals. Whatever I could afford is what I ate, for the most part. That definitely didn't include very much expensive fish and whatever the hell the potato things were.

I felt an instinctive tinge of guilt wondering exactly how pricey this meal was, exactly. From what I had heard and seen, Belle and her dad weren't exactly rolling in money.

'They're not real,' I told myself. 'The second you leave this ridiculous place, they'll cease to exist. They're just the acid trip of some really bored vengeful deity that decided to have fun screwing with you.'

The voice in my head didn't sound all too convincing.

After I finished, Maurice asked if I wanted seconds of anything. I really could have eaten more, but I politely declined. Real or not, I didn't want to take any more than I needed to.

'Pussy.'

'Shut up.'

Belle and I both cleared the table together and when we took the dishes to the sink, she whispered to me, "I found somewhere for you to go."

I nearly dropped my plate. "Where?"

Belle didn't answer me but she called to her father, "Papa, can I drive Shane home?"

Maurice seemed a bit surprised and hesitant. "Well, I don't know, Belle. It's getting kind of late and you know how dangerous it is…"

"We'll be fine, Papa, I promise. It's just over in Atlantica, the nice part of town."

Maurice's face wrinkled like a bulldog's and he looked at the two of us some more. "Why don't I just drive us all?"

"I know you have to wake up for work very early; you don't want to drive to Atlantica and back."

"I'm not going to sleep very well if you're not home."

"I'll let you know the second I get back."

Maurice sighed. "All right, Belle, but be careful." He pointed at me. "Keep an eye on her, okay? And no funny business, you two. I might look young and spiffy but I wasn't born yesterday."

I smiled innocently. "You don't have to worry about that. Thank you so much for dinner."

He yawned. "It was my pleasure. Belle, let me know right when you get home."

She gave him a kiss and then he trudged off to his room. The old gent didn't look like he would last five minutes awake after hitting the pillow.

Belle watched him leave. "He works very hard, my father."

"He's a good guy."

"You've got that right."

I clapped my hands against my thighs, drawing her attention. "So. Who's taking me in for the night?"

"Nobody's 'taking you in,'" Belle said. "But someone has a place she can put you."

"Who?"

Belle grinned. "Ariel. She was very anxious to help."

Ariel. Of course. I should have known.

Belle dangled her father's keys. "Well let's get a move on. Atlantica is all the way on the other side of town."

"You sure I can't just sleep in your room tonight?" I asked hopefully.

Belle just laughed. "Sorry, handsome. There's simply no room."

"I'm good at squeezing into tight places."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Just go get your stuff."

I sighed and obeyed, heading hanging dismally as I went to retrieve my backpack and phone. It was time to see what Ariel had waiting for me.

I just hoped it wouldn't be underwater.

{I just want to take a moment to thank everybody for the nice reviews. You guys are all really great. (Shadow, try and remember you already have a boyfriend, babe. What if he finds out about us? It'll be the end of me. I'm an artist, not a bruiser!)

Moving on…it's too bad things couldn't get spicier with Belle, but she's just too darn respectable to fall victim to Shane's charms…for now, that is mwahaha. Pshh, anyway, we'll see how things turn out with Ariel. She's definitely much more…enthusiastic, we'll say. Or so it seems. Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far; let me know what you think! I hinted at some of the groups not associated with the school...we're going to meet quite a few characters in the city that are not limited to life at Disney High. Many twists and turns lie ahead. I'll try to upload the next chapter soon (depends on how preparing for my math test goes *barf*). Thanks, everyone!}