Mikah

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

After what felt like ten million hours of being gone, Phoebe finally came back from dancing with the young man named Hunter and settled down to have her now cold steak.

He pushed her chair into the table like the gentleman he was, and then sat down on his own, smiling at the two of us.

Hunter beamed, then sitting down, he cupped his hands in hers and ordered for a waitress to come near our table.

"A cigarette, please," He told the waitress, then looked back at Phoebe, "Would you like one, dear?"

Phoebe nodded excitedly, which was odd. I never saw her this excited to get a cigarette before.

A couple minutes later, the both of them had their share of nicotine in their body, and placed their cigarettes on the tray.

He stood up, and pushed his chair in behind him.

"I had a lovely time with you, Eleonora," Hunter spoke softly, "Will I see you again tomorrow?"

Phoebe nodded,

"Of course you will. I mean, hey, Russia is a long way away. We have plenty of time, trust me on that, Hunter."

He bobbed his head up and down, and then kissed her cheek, and began to wave goodbye.

"Goodnight Eleonora, it was a pleasure being with you," Hunter began, "I shall see you tomorrow."

She couldn't stop smiling, and I don't know why but I wanted to punch him in the face!

"Night." Phoebe said, as they both waved goodbye.

Once he was gone, I immediately turned towards her, and fought the temptation to make fun of him.

"Seems like a nice lad, huh?" I spoke instead.

Phoebe looked down at her ring finger, and then looked up at me,

"Oh, yes. Very. He lives in London, but was born in Bristol, just like me. Isn't that just grand, Angus?"

"So grand," I murmured.

Phoebe looked at me, with the same curious eyes she got when I told her my suspicion of being the missing Russian prince.

"He's got a younger sister named Charlotte, Charlotte! Isn't that name just as grand as he is? And oh me, oh my! He's even gotten a job in welding! That's what my father used to do, did you know that, Angus? Or did I forget to tell you? I honestly forget whether or n—"

Before she could say absolutely anything more, I placed my hand on her cheek and leaned in and kissed her on her lips, shutting her up almost instantly.

***

It was all purely my imagination, that I kissed Phoebe. I truly wish I did, for that would have surely shut her up, but I didn't have the nerve to.

And so she went on how this Hunter lad is the absolute most superior lad and how wonderful he seems and how great his family seems to be. She even said that his family seems, "perfect," which as you can presume offended the hell out of me.

None of us have a perfect family, not even him, not even me, and surely not even her. He probably has a brother with commitment issues and a grandfather who forgets everything as well as a sister who smokes seven packs a day. Hell, he may even be the one who smokes seven packs a day, considering the overwhelmingly annoying sense that he ordered cigarettes for goodness sakes.

What is Phoebe even thinking? It's not like he would genuinely stay with her if he knew her true age? She's sixteen, sixteen! For goodness sakes!

"Angus?" Phoebe sounded.

I looked up at her from my head being down, looking down at my fingers, fiddling with them greatly.

"Yeah?" I reply.

She looked at me, crossing her arms,

"I've been trying to get your attention for minutes now, what's the matter, hmm?"

"N-nothing, I guess I'm just thinking about making it to Russia, you know? I'm thinking about my hunch... that I'm Mikah Milkovich; how what if I'm completely wrong?"

Then, her entire face softened up a bit before giving me a wry smile,

"Awe, Angus," She shook her head, "Why else would Olsen leave you up in the attic all alone if he wasn't worried about you finding your birth family? This is good news, isn't it? You could be finding your birth family, the people you've wondered ever-so immensely about."

I shrugged,

"I suppose, but I'm not sure. Oh! T-the compass!"

Pulling out from my coat pocket the compass that previously laid in the box that mysteriously showed up on my birthday, both Phoebe and I looked at it intently as it tried to figure out which direction to go.

After a couple of seconds later of trying to figure out which direction to go, it flipped on over to the N, north, which was in exact, the direction in which the ship, Derwent, was headed.