Understand You Better
"I'm so thankful, (Y/N)!" Prince Gumball beamed. "I'm so glad you came here to help me with the children."
(Y/N) blushed. "Uh. . . yeah. Sure."
But in truth, she was desperate to leave. She rarely got sleep, since the diner decided to open for twenty four hours. She had someone to replace her in the twelve hours of the morning (Ice Cream Woman. Yes, another soft serve) but the twelve hours of afternoon and night were hers. Today, she wanted to sleep, but the prince phoned her and asked her if it would be okay if she could come with him to the Daycare Center. Then she found herself saying on the phone, "Sure, Prince Gumball. What time?".
(Y/N) could swear she could hear him smiling from the other line. "Meet me tomorrow at eight."
Now she was here with him, in front of the building and standing in the shade of a cotton candy tree.
He was wearing a baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his arms, along with dark jeans and white sneakers. (Y/N) tugged at the hem of her sweater, quite unsure how to approach him.
Suddenly she remembered what happened with her and Marshall Lee. Then she became more anxious.
"(Y/N)? Is. . .is there something wrong?" Gumball asked her, his touch on her shoulder making her flinch.
(Y/N) tried to laugh it off. "There's nothing wrong, PG. Can I call you PG?"
"Sure!" Prince Gumball replied cheerily, then his expression quickly changed to serious. "Is it Marshall Lee?"
That's it. The big bomb was dropped on her, and her walls were crumbling fast. Oh, bread balls. . .Oh bread balls. . .
"I'm sorry—that was insensitive—"
The bell rang, and a rainbow blur of fast creatures came spilling out into the grounds. Agh, children.
She doesn't have much love for children, even if she did baby sit hundreds of years ago. She couldn't even believe she went through that phase.
Children were vile, little imps. Candy or not.
But she was thankful for them interrupting Prince Gumball.
A large candy woman approached them. She bowed to (Y/N) and to PG, much to (Y/N)'s surprise. "I am truly sorry, Your Majesty! I—"
Prince Gumball patted her shoulder. "S'okay. We're here to help. And, by the way, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Mrs. Eclair. Mrs. Eclair, this is (Y/N)."
(Y/N) extended her arm for a handshake, but Mrs. Eclair hugged her. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)! You seem like a very nice girl!" then she turned to Prince Gumball. "Although, just asking, Your Majesty. . .is she a candidate for queen?"
A flabbergasted Prince Gumball opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. (Y/N) blushed down to her hair's roots. Instead of nodding vigorously, she did otherwise.
"No! I mean, it's not like that! She's a friend!" Prince Gumball denied rather frantically, making (Y/N) laugh nervously. Judging from this situation, this day won't get any better.
"I'm very sorry, Your Majesty. I shouldn't have spoken," Mrs Eclair said, bowing. "Come this way, please."
She lead them into the school house. As annoying kids may be, (Y/N) missed being a child. Or at least, how simple everything was.
The school house was just one large class room with two comfort rooms: one for the teacher, Mrs Eclair and one for the ankle biters to use. Wooden alphabet cubes and different learning toys were scattered all over the floor like landmines. One corner was for the children's little bags, and one was for two tall shelves full of books. There was this nook with one long table laid with small jars of paint, crayons, colored papers, and safety scissors. After passing there, they went through the pink door. It turns out it was some sort of infirmary with a small cot in the corner, an electric fan, a shelf with a jar of peanuts and a first-aid kit.
