19/8/04

At 10am the yacht docked in the Pyrus Harbour, Clarisse and I were still sleeping at the time and were rudely awakened by Mia knocking on the door telling us it was time to farewell the guests. Clarisse used some very un-Clarisse like words and basically told Mia to piss off and let her sleep. I wiped my eyes and sat up, Mia knocked on the door again.

"Grandma you have a press conference in an hour!"

Clarisse's face cringed and she punched the pillow with her fist, that's when I tried to wake her and also when I obtained a large bruise on my arm. She must have been really tired, otherwise she would have been up in a flash.

Mia knocked once more on the door and I informed her that we'd be out in a minute, she left. I tapped Clarisse on the face and said, "Wake up."

She waved her arm and tried to attack me again, but I avoided it and got out of bed. Within ten minutes I was dressed, Clarisse wasn't, she was still sleeping, "You'd better get up, you know, we have to leave."

"Can't I have just one wedding where I don't have to have a press conference the next morning? Tell Charlotte to cancel it."

"Really? You'd rather spend the day with me than being interrogated by the press? Good, we'll have a chance to talk some more."

Her head shot up, "I'm awake!"

She got out of bed and grabbed a suit from the wardrobe, "Come along Joseph, we have a conference to get to."

I rolled my eyes and said to myself, "Great, she'd rather have an interview than spend our first day of marriage talking to me."

Five minutes later I was ready to go and strangely, very strangely, Clarisse was too! It took her less than five minutes to get ready which had to be some kind of record and she looked just the same as what she would have if she had taken three hours to get ready.

"That was quick," I announced, holding out my arm for her to take it, "Come on."

The press conference went on for quite a while and we were asked many questions, some of which we didn't answer because they were too personal. I managed to catch the television version of our interview with the press when I was waiting for Clarisse to finish up putting on her face cream for the night, it went something like:

"Your majesty what was it that made you decide to re-marry?"

"Love."

"Did you think it was too soon after your late husband's death to re-marry?"

"Absolutely not."

"When did you realise you were in love with your head of security?"

"I think two, maybe three years ago."

"Your majesty, how did you manage to run a country and maintain a relationship?"

"I almost didn't, I nearly lost both yesterday."

"Will you be changing your last name to Mr. Alexander's?"

"It's a possibility."

The next bunch of questions were directed at me, "When did you realise you were in love with the queen of Genovia?"

"I think twenty, maybe thirty years ago."

The crowd immediately started gossiping, Clarisse looked lost for words – I don't think she wanted anybody to know how long I've loved her.

"What's it like being married to a royal?"

"Ask me in a week."

"Do you think this marriage will be more successful than your last?"

"I really don't think that's anyone's business, I'm not the only divorcee in the country."

"What does your son think about his new stepmother being a royal?"

"I haven't spoken to him about it yet."

"What are your thoughts on Greenpeace?"

I turned the TV off and put the remote down, Clarisse came in a moment later and kissed me on the head, "Did I miss the interview?"

"Yes," I replied looking up at her.

"Oh well…did my hair look alright?"

"It was fine."

"Just fine?"

"Beautiful."

"Good."

I directed my attention to the blank TV screen and saw Clarisse's reflection, she was wearing a white robe and had a towel on her head, "Are you coming to bed?"

"I just want to sit for a minute."

"Suit yourself."

She came and sat down next to me on the sofa, then started running her hand over my head. She smiled and kissed my cheek, "What are you thinking about?"

"This room."

"What about it?"

"We don't have to live in it, do we?"

"Why, is there something wrong?"

I shook my shoulders, "It's not good for my masculinity, too floral."

Clarisse giggled slightly, "Joseph you mustn't worry about your masculinity, it's already gone, you've proved that often enough."

"Why, because you think I'm too emotional?"

"Mmmhmm."

Blankly I smiled and walked to the main door, she yawned, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get my motorcycle-print pyjamas and my journal."

She shook her head and giggled some more as I left the room. I did actually leave to get my motor-cycle print pyjamas and journal, but I also picked up a snack from the kitchen because I was hungry. I re-entered the suite ten minutes later.

"What took you so long? You only live next door."

"I went to the kitchen, would you like some chocolate?"

"No thankyou, I'm watching my figure."

I placed the box of chocolates on the table and took my pyjamas into the bathroom to change for bed. When I came out the chocolates were half gone and Clarisse was laughing like crazy at my outfit, "Oh god I didn't think you were serious. You are desperate to prove you're a man, aren't you?"

Rolling my eyes I crossed to the bedroom, she followed and put her arms around my waist, "You know there are other ways you can prove your manhood."

"No," I growled, placing my hands on her hips to steer her away, "I told you-"

"I know, talk first, love later."

She took my hand and pulled me into the bedroom, "Shall we talk here or in the sitting room?"

"You want to talk?"

"Yes, I believe it's my turn to hear about you."

"But we didn't finish talking about you last night, I want to know what happened."

"Oh yes. Uh, let's get comfortable first."

Clarisse sat on the bed and got under the covers, I did the same, "Where was I up to?"

"I think you father was angry with you."

"Oh yes, well the next morning I went to school as normal, but instead of going to the detention room, I climbed on top of one of the buildings in order to hide from Chester. I cried all through recess and 3rd period. I was so upset and couldn't stop thinking about how disappointed my father was with me. I tried the whole day to avoid Chester, but when the bell rang to go home, he found me.

"I am so sorry about last night, Clarisse."

I didn't reply, my father forebode me to talk to Chester and I didn't want to disobey him again.

"Clarisse, I said I'm sorry. You're not ready to have a boyfriend, I understand that. I guess I was just hoping I could change your mind."

He looked at me and noticed I was crying, "What's the matter? I said I was sorry. Are we still friends? Clarisse?"

I stayed silent for a moment and watched a black car pull up about a hundred meters away.

"Isn't that your Mum?"

I nodded, "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

"Oh so that's it."

"You got me into trouble with my father."

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

"Because of you I'm too scared to go home and face him."

"Is that why you're standing here instead of going home?"

Again I nodded.

"So what are you going to do? Hang around the school all weekend until Monday?"

"I don't know."

We watched my mother get out of the car and look at her watch, all the children in the school were rushing out the gate and she was checking every single face for me. She gave up and leant against the car, I knew if I went to her then I would have had to suffer an ear bashing.

"You wanna go home with me?" Chester asked politely.

My eyes widened, I'd never been asked to go to anyone's house before, let alone a boy's, "Okay," I whispered as the sky started getting darker.

"Come on then, my bike's in the parking lot."

Taking my hand he started leading me to the car park, I stayed on the other side of him so as not to be detected by my mother. When we got to his motorbike, he placed a helmet atop my head and a leather jacket around my shoulders, he only had one of each, so he had to ride without protection. After trying ten minutes to get his motorcycle to start, it roared and he told me to jump on. As Chester and I sped off down the street, I watched my mother walk into the reception office, she was obviously going to make an announcement telling me to meet her somewhere, but little did she know I wouldn't show up.

Chester's motorbike went much to fast for my liking, I found myself screaming for him to slow down, but he didn't, he said he wanted to get home before it started to, and I quote, "piss down with rain". I hung onto him for dear life and cried into his blazer, then when we finally arrived at his house I jumped off the bike, hit him, then kissed the ground. He laughed at me and took me by the hand, directing me to look at the house, "Welcome to my world."

The house was sort of run-down, the shutters were falling off, as were some of the weatherboards, the windows were dirty, but it was surrounded by some of the most beautiful trees I have ever seen.

"It's not exactly the Genovian palace, but it's home."

Chester took me by the hand and led me inside, the floors were absolutely filthy and the walls had grease stains and food scraps on them. He led me to the kitchen and asked me if I wanted something to drink, but because the house was lacking in hygiene, I declined. He introduced me to his mother, who was face-down on the kitchen table, she didn't speak much - I think she was drunk or passed out. His father was an absolute bastard, he took one look at me and said in his Scottish accent, "You came too far out, young lady, the Genovian Palace is back that way."

By that time I was quite wishing I didn't accept the invitation to come to his house, it was the worst place I had ever been to. His room was the only thing I liked, the floor was relatively clean, the bed was the only one in the house that didn't have yellow, or white stains on it and his shelves were lined with action figures and pieces of bark from trees. I sat down on his bed when he told me to take a seat and he sat opposite on a chair.

"So what do you think of my humble abode?"

"It's terrible."

"At least you're honest. It may be a dump, but it holds some good memories for me."

I stood up and started touching things on his shelf, "Why do you collect bark?"

"I like it. The look, the smell, the feel of it. It's very calming."

I picked up a piece which looked like it came from one of the trees out the front, he said, "You can have that if you want."

"No thankyou," I replied, gently putting it back, "My mother would probably assume there's a bug in it and light it on fire."

He laughed, "It doesn't matter, there's plenty more where that came from. What kind of person is your mother?"

"A perfectionist."

"Oh, so to her this house would probably seem like something not even an animal would live in, eh?"

"More or less."

"If you want me to take you home-"

"No I'm fine. If it's okay with your parents, I'd like to stay a little bit longer."

"You could spend the night and my parents wouldn't care."

"My father's probably worried sick about me."

"Let him worry. He'll soon need to get used to the fact that his daughter is becoming a woman and can make her own decisions. If she wants to go to her friend's house after school, he should let her."

I sat back down on the bed and looked at him, "What if she wants to stay the night?"

His eyebrows hit the roof when I said that, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Is it alright if I stay the night? I really, really don't want to go home."

"You'd rather stay here then go back to your million dollar mansion?"

"I would."

"Alright then."

Clarisse turned to me and closed her eyes, "Joseph I need a glass of water. Be a dear?"

I got up and went to the sitting room to grab a jug of water and a glass, I then went back to listen to the rest of Clarisse's story.

"So what happened that night? Did you sleep with him?"

She shook her head and took a sip of water, "No, not that night, the next morning."

That shocked me, she'd known him for something like two or three weeks before she slept with him?

"Chester spent the night sleeping on the cold, hard floor of his bedroom, I thought it ever so nice of him to give up his bed for me. I didn't sleep much, there were too many bugs outside making noises and there was a fly buzzing around inside the room. Plus I didn't like the odour that hung in the air, it smelled of…I don't know what. I think I managed perhaps ten minutes of uninterrupted sleep that night. The clock beside the bed informed me that it was only two in the morning and I suddenly found myself wishing I were home, warm and snug in my own bed. Chester's room was so cold I felt my toes were going to fall off, despite the many layers of blankets I had on. I could actually see my breath lingering in the moonlight whenever I exhaled, "Chester," I whispered, "Wake up!"

I leant over the edge of the bed and tapped him on the shoulder, but he didn't wake. "Chester," I said a little louder. He still didn't wake, so I started shaking him until he finally moaned and woke up, "What? What is it?"

"I want to go home."

"What, now?"

"Please?"

"It's 2am!"

"I'm cold and there's too many noises here and I keep getting eaten by mosquitoes and I can't sleep."

"Look what I have to sleep on, a floor without carpeting and only a single blanket to keep me warm, you have all those blankets and you're complaining?"

"I'm not used to it. Can't you please take me home?"

"Clarisse I can't take you home now, the light on my motorbike is dead. Now I can give you calamine lotion to stop the itching and earplugs to block the noise, but I'm afraid the only thing I can give you to warm up is my body and I'm sure you'll decline that."

"Not if I'm desperate."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Suddenly I found myself lifting up the heavy amount of blankets and allowing him to slip in next to me. He put his arms around my waist and tried to go back to sleep, I rolled him onto his back and rested my head on his chest. I felt warm for a moment, but not warm enough, so I pulled myself on top of him and hugged his stomach. I didn't have much difficulty getting to sleep after that until about five when I woke up to him rolling over in his sleep. The sun had just about started to rise and I felt slightly warmer, I studied Chester's face as he slept and came to the realisation that I was in a boy's bed with a boy who was asleep. I became curious at what lurked below the covers and decided to use the morning light to my advantage. Carefully I lifted up the blankets and pushed them aside, then I lifted up the front of his pants very slowly. It was the first time I'd ever seen a man's genitalia and I found them quite comical, they looked much different to what I had in my pants. I looked to see if he was still asleep, he appeared to be, so I lifted up the front of my pants and compared the two.

Suddenly I was given the shock of my life, "Is my package to your liking?"

I let go of his pants as well as my own and said, "I'm sorry, I was curious."

"Sexual curiousity is nothing to be ashamed of, provided you ask permission before looking down someone else's trousers."

I turned away from him and looked out the window, "I said I'm sorry."

"Do you like it?"

"I…don't know…I…"

"I liked yours."

I felt so embarrassed that I hid under the blankets, "You looked?"

"Sorry. You still want to go home? I can take you now if you want, sun's up."

"I don't feel like going home yet, though I really should."

"So you want me to take you?"

I emerged from the covers and said, "Not yet."

His father burst through the door at that moment and yelled, "Chezzy, I'm goin' to the shops, you want anything? Fags? Booze? Condoms, perhaps?"

"No thankyou."

"You're a wimp, Chezzy, a wimp!"

He stood at the door for a while watching me and I began to feel very uncomfortable, especially when he said, "You still a virgin, Chezzy? Or did you fuck this one?"

We were so embarrassed, I thought he wasn't a virgin.

"Chezzy's a real goody-good boy. He don't drink, he don't smoke, he don't fuck any of the broads I bring home for him. A real wimp."

"I have higher standards than you, Dad."

Relief washed over me when he finally left the room, I could not believe a father would tease his son about being a good boy. Chester said he did it all the time, putting him down for behaviour that should be rewarded.

"He always does that."

"But it's so wrong."

"I know. He just wants me to be more like my idiotic jailbird brother, the pride of the family."

"Your brother's in jail?"

"Yeah, he won't be out for a while. He stole a truck, tried to run over a black fellow, committed armed robbery and wound up in prison. It was my father's influence, I hope it doesn't rub off on me. I'd rather be like my sister, she married a politician at the age of 16 and got out of this place, had two kids, a boy and a girl. I never did see her again, only on the telly when her husband was accepting his political crown."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah, not as much as mum though, she was in tears because she wasn't even invited to the wedding."

I moved my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest, "You know hearing about your family problems have suddenly made all of mine seem insignificant. Compared to you I live in a bubble."

"You'd better get out of here before it's too late or your bubble might just burst."

I remained lying where I was and listened to what I noticed was his father arguing with his mother, I think they were arguing about money or something. Chester stared at the ceiling listening too and rubbed my arm while I started kissing his chest through his shirt – I felt so sorry for him having to live there. As his parents continued to argue I moved my lips up to his mouth and after a short pause, kissed him there too. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me on top of him, then he slipped his tongue into my mouth, it felt strange, much like it did the first time he tried to kiss me, but I soon began to like it. Moments later his hands were lightly resting on my breasts, caressing them gently and sending shivers up my spine. I pulled back in shock, "Stop…"

"Sorry, I thought you wanted me to."

"I do, I'm just a little scared."

"Oh."

We started kissing again for about four minutes before I felt his hands returning to my breasts, I let him touch them, it felt good. I slid my shirt off to let him have the full experience, then I felt a growing in his pants. I removed his shirt and started kissing his chest, he rolled me onto my back and got on top of me. We kissed a little more and soon found ourselves pantsless and frozen, "You sure you want to do this, Clarisse?"

I shrugged my shoulders and pulled his lips to mine, we then resumed caressing each other.

"Shit," he said, "I don't have any protection."

"Do you think it'll be alright?"

"I don't know, I guess I can pull out."

I nodded and smiled slightly, I wasn't too educated in contraception, so I didn't quite know what he was talking about, but we continued. Our lips re-connected, our bodies were joined and we lost our virginity to each other. It surprisingly didn't hurt like it should have, he was quite a small boy and still is. The only difference now is that he's good at lovemaking now. I don't know what persuaded me to sleep with him that morning, I think it was either the fact that he was so gentleman-like to not have made a move on me all night, or the fact that I felt sorry for him. I don't know. It only lasted for about two minutes because he was so aroused that he released his essence a little early, quite like you do, Joseph."

"Thankyou, Clarisse, you just made the last shred of self-esteem I had vanish," I cut in.

"I am sorry, but it's your own fault."

"Nobody else complains!"

"Can you please let me finish the story?"

"Sure," I moaned.

"Good. After we'd done the deed we lay in each other's arms for a while and he repeatedly apologised for being too early. I told him it was fine, but he didn't believe me. Later on we did it again four more times and he got a little better, that's when his father came in. He was eating a bag of chips and standing in the doorway, he pointed one at me and said, "Clarisse Preston, right?"

I looked at him and nodded.

"You're in deep shit, missy, parents are lookin' for ya, ya know? Think you've been kidnapped! Sent the police, the fire brigade and everybody after you."

"Really? Oh god."

"Didn't look too happy when I saw em on the TV."

"They were on the TV?" I started panicking, "I need to go home."

"I can give you a lift," his father announced, raising his eyebrow and smiling.

"No, dad, it's fine, I can take her home."

"But I'm on me way to the pub."

"I can take care of her, okay dad?"

"Have it your way, sonny Jim."

His father observed the abandoned clothes on the floor and said, "Oh aye, I see what's going on here. You two fucked, didn't ya?"

"Dad get out!"

"It's nothin to be ashamed of, lassy. Listen missy, when you're finished with him, I'll let you have a go with me."

He stood at the door staring at me and licking his lips, that's when Chester got angry, "Dad, get the fuck out or I swear I'll kill you!"

"Bring it on, boy!"

His mother started dragging him out by the collar, "Peter, pick on someone your own size! He's your son for god's sake!"

We waited until their voices drifted away, then Chester turned to me, "Sorry about that, my dad always tries to start shit with me."

"He's a bit like my mother. They'd be perfect for each other."

"You think?"

I nodded and stared at my clothes, "I should go."

"Do you want to?"

"I have to. Thankyou for letting me stay and for being so gentle with me, I had a wonderful morning, despite the last few minutes."

"I did too."

He started kissing me and we ended up having sex another two times, then we got dressed and he took me home. I had him drop me off a little up the street so nobody would see, then I farewelled him and walked inside. Nobody was home, my parents and the maids were all out looking for me, it gave me a chance to shower and dress before meeting with them.

When they got home my father hugged me and kissed me and thanked god I was alright, my mother stared evilly at me and told me I wasted a valuable seventeen hours of her life. When asked where I was I lied, though I can't remember what I said."

Clarisse took my hand and caressed it with hers, "I think I'm now entitled to hear something about your childhood."

"But I'm really getting into your story, I want to know what happens."

"You'll find out once I know a little more about you."

Settling under the sheets I looked at her and put my hands behind my head, "Well I was born Joseph M. Alexander, November 5th 1935 in Miami, America, to parents Cameron Alexander and Jennifer Potter."

"What does the M stand for?"

"What M?"

"In your name."

"It doesn't matter."

"Tell me," she smiled.

"No, you'll just make fun of me because it will enhance your theory."

"What theory?"

"It stands for Mary."

Clarisse could not help but laugh at my middle name, I was used to it though, "All the kids at school thought it was as comical aswell."

"I'm sorry," she laughed, holding up her hand, "But you're right, it does make the theory that you were born a woman come alive."

Rolling my eyes I turned away and waited for her to finish giggling, "Alright Joseph, I think I can contain myself, go on."

"I started my life in a loft across the road from a brothel, when I was twelve I used to watch from my bedroom window at all the different types of men who went there and categorised them into four groups. There were the ones who wanted a change from their long-term partners, usually forty and over, the ones who were fat and unattractive, enough said, the ones who worked long hours and had no time for a relationship…and then there were the virgins. Watching the entrance of the brothel was one of my favourite hobbies, I even asked my parents to buy me a telescope for Christmas so I could try and peer into the windows, of course they thought I wanted it for stargazing. I looked through the telescope at all the windows on the second floor of the brothel, I would see the men undress the women, have their way with them and leave shortly after, I would also see some of the women being abused by unhappy customers. I used to wonder what it would be like to be with a woman, but I never had enough money to go over there, I was too young anyway. Come high school, I started presenting myself to the girls as a charming individual, but nobody was interested in me. It took a whole year before any girl would speak to me, then one day out of the blue a new girl came to the school and was seated next to me in class. Prudence was her name, she was bright, funny, beautiful and thirteen years old, I was hansom, dashing, talkative and also thirteen years old. We instantly became an item and were together for three days before she took me to the back of the library and had sex with me…I only lasted a minute."

"So nothing's changed," Clarisse joked - I was not amused.

"Prue informed the whole school of my performance and dumped me the next morning. From then on my name became, 'Quick Joe.' I hated her for that, I even changed schools because of it."

From the corner of my eye I noticed Clarisse giggling, "What?"

"That's…haha…that's a very appropriate nickname."

I sat up, "You know I really don't appreciate you teasing me about how long I can make love when I'm trying to tell you a story."

"I'm sorry," she laughed again, "I'll stop now."

"Good, because if you laugh just once more I'll-"

"I've stopped!"

"By the time I reached my eighteenth birthday I had slept with half the women in the area, including a small range from across the road, however I didn't spend a cent. That's my childhood in a nutshell."

"What did your father do for a living?"

"He was a car salesman."

"And your mother?"

"I used to say to the children at school: she sells sea shells by the sea shore. Which was the truth, she'd go down to the beach early in the morning to collect all the pretty shells that had washed up on the shore, then she'd clean them, make necklaces, bracelets, everything you can imagine and then she'd sell them to the Japanese tourists."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. She used to take her table and tent down and set up shop in the sand. The business did surprisingly well until somebody else started up their own seashell-selling business and sold everything for half her price. My mother went broke and had to get another job or face living off my father's money, which she was far too independent to do. She eventually did get another job, it was close by, across the street in fact."

"She worked as a hooker?"

"For a while, my father didn't know about it, but one day he went there for change of woman and got paired up with her, they didn't speak for a whole month. Two weeks after the incident, she got a job at the supermarket."

"And how did that work out?"

"Quite well. She had a special job in the back storage room, exchanging sexual favours for job promotions."

"That's terrible."

"My father found out about it and the two of them separated for a while. I lived with my mother for one year, then my father the next, then my mother again, then just as I was about to go back to my father, they reconciled and were more in love than ever. They finally decided to get married."

"Your parents sound very strange."

"Indeed they were. Well I've finished my story," I announced, "Are we going to continue with yours or do you want to go to bed?"

Clarisse sat bolt upright and stared wide-eyed at me, "Excuse me? My story was, I believe so much longer than that. Why don't I get as many details?"

"Well my childhood was really pretty average, nothing special happened to me."

"But still…I told you so much more, I was talking for two nights, you were talking for two minutes!"

"Clarisse, I have honestly told you everything to know about my childhood, I don't think there's anything I've forgotten. Perhaps you could think of something?"

She shook her shoulders and said, "Well, did you participate in any extra-curricular activities for example, a sport?"

"Oh yeah, I played a lot of tennis. So much so, I ended up with tennis-knee and stopped. I was the best in the under 16's, I went to the district finals, the state finals and then the nationals, it's where I met my first long-term girlfriend. Her name was Marissa, she was fifteen years old, five-foot-seven, weighed about 60 kilos – most of which was in her breasts – she had blonde hair, blue eyes and the most luscious lips I've ever tasted. At first we were just friends, then she started flirting with me and slapping my buttocks whenever I walked past. I found that whenever I was playing tennis and she was in the audience, I would perform better, it was my way of getting her full attention. All the boys in school were after her, but she chose me to be her lover. We slept together about fifteen times over a period of one month, but she refused to be the one who had sole responsibility of contraception. Since no man wants to shower while wearing a raincoat, I told her if she didn't go on the pill I would leave her. The next week she told me she saw a doctor and went on the pill, so we continued our relationship for two months, then she broke up with me. I never saw her again. She gave me no explanation as to why she broke up with me, she didn't even say goodbye, she just dropped out of school and went into hiding. I still have no idea what happened to her."

"You're an asshole," Clarisse whispered to me in disgust, "She wouldn't go on the pill so you threatened to leave her? That's sick."

"I was young, I didn't like having to put a thing on every time I wanted to sleep with her."

"It's not our fault we're the ones who bear children, you men need to take some responsibility, too."

"Clarisse, it happened ages ago, I don't need to be interrogated now."

Crossing her arms, she sighed, "It's still wrong."

I made an exasperated sound, "Is there anything else you wanted to know or should we go to bed?"

"I think I'd rather sleep than hear more about your mistreatment of women."

"It's not as if I don't regret it, Clarisse, I've grown immensely."

"So you should have."

"You know I believe it's your turn to talk now."

She snuggled down under the covers and exhaled, "Tomorrow. I'm tired and want to go to sleep. Goodnight."

Leaning over her, I kissed her cheek, "Night."

So there you have it, that's the story of what was said tonight.

Clarisse has to work from 8am – 8pm tomorrow so I have to occupy myself some other way. She says we'll go on our honeymoon a week after Mia's coronation and we won't tell a sole where we're going. Clarisse wants to go to Paris, but I told her it's the obvious choice and that we should go to America. She thought I was making a 'sick joke,' but I was serious. I don't know why she hates it there so much, I can't even say "I think it has something to do with…" because I have no idea. She and I have decided on going to Frankfurt. It should only take an hour by plane, I look forward to it. Clarisse and I should have fully reconciled by then and if we haven't we'll know there's something terribly wrong with us.

Well I'm signing off here because I'm also tired and desire sleep.

Woah, it's finally over! (not the story, the chapter.) I had heaps of fun writing it. I hope you all had fun reading it. Review please.