The Nutcracker Princess

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1) - Mistletoe

Submitted: December 06, 2007

Reads: 179

Comments: 1

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Submitted: December 06, 2007

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Just to the left of the drama studio was a unremarkable wooden door. Most people in my school were unaware of the doors existence, I myself had only discovered the door by accident one night, after getting shoved into it by a group of rowdy year ten‘s. They had carried on down the narrow corridor, not aware of the fact I had broken open the rusty lock, sending myself flying into a cobwebbed corridor filled with old drama props.

If you walked past all the dusty costumes, there lay a trapdoor which led to the coolest thing of all. The party room.

Hmm, well it probably originally wasn’t called this, but to me and everyone else it was a place of fun. After some digging around in the school library, I found out that in the 19th century it was the headmasters personal wine vault. Let me tell you, those guys must have done a lot of drinking.

As I made my way into it now, I looked around and grinned. I had spent the past few weeks decorating it in preparation for this years shindig. Fairy lights covered every inch of wall space, countless Christmas trees all sizes and colours were dotted around the vast room and the floor was covered in glitter. I walked to the wall and switched on the lights. Perfect.

“What the hell is all this?” I spun round to see none other than Scrooge, gazing wide-eyed at a star topped tree.

“How did you get down here?!” He turned to glare at me, a smirk appearing on his annoyingly handsome face.

“I followed you, you‘re not exactly stealth personified.”

“Well if you could kindly get lost, that’d be a great help.” I smiled, turning my back on him and reaching over to adjust some tinsel.

“What’s all this crap in aid of anyway?” Scrooge questioned, sounding like he had no intention of leaving anytime soon..

“The Christmas party.” I let slip before I could stop myself.

“When is it?”

“Why do you want to know?” He walked closer to me and smiled innocently.

“I just want to socialise with my new classmates? Maybe I should ask a teacher?” He went to walk away, but I cried out.

“No! Don’t you dare! It’s tomorrow night if you want to know so badly.” Scrooge raised a jet black eyebrow.

“I can’t wait.” He responded dryly, sounding the exact opposite. He flicked back longish dark hair and fixed me with his cold green stare.

“Why are you so obsessed with Christmas anyway?”

“Shouldn’t you be getting shown the error of your ways by three ghosts or something?” I muttered, walking over to adjust the position of some dangling paper snowflakes.

“Please tell me?” I heard him whisper in my ear, jumping at the fact he was right behind me. I swivelled round to find myself face to face with the Grinch, the green of his eyes alone convinced me it was really him.

“I just like it,” I replied, knowing there was no way I would ever tell him about my Santa encounter. “Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind -” I began to recite my favourite quote about Christmas, before I could go on, scrooge interrupted me.

“Calvin Coolidge, right?” I nodded slowly, shocked at his knowledge. “What a load of rubbish.” I heaved a sigh and shoved past him, he put out his arm and stopped me.

“I don’t even know your name, I can’t just keep calling you elf… as much fun as that is.” I rolled my eyes.

“Holly.” He laughed.

“How fitting.”

“What about you? I can’t keep calling you Scrooge.” I mocked, crossing my arms.

“Noel.” He muttered, looking visibly pained. I snorted, his name meant Christmas in French

“Gotta’ love irony.” I beamed, still failing to push past him. “What?” I demanded, wondering why he still wouldn’t let me go.

“We’re standing under mistletoe.” He pointed upwards, dread filled my heart. “As an upholder of Christmas traditions, you’re not going to ignore it are you?” I stared at him, feeling the greatest urge to punch his smug face. Usually I was all for tidings and joy, but not in his case.


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