Valentina & Vincent • on hold

Chapter Three

Shades of purple and orange blurred together in the sky above their heads as the sun set. It had to have been about 5 now, which left Valentina with a runny nose and red eyes. The cool air smacked Valentina's face as she watched Vincent pace.

"Why didn't we go inside when the lady asked?"

Vincent shook his head, "that makes us aftercare kids, I think you have to pay for that."

Her eyes widened as she let out a long ohhhh. Cecilia wouldn't like that. Another five or so minutes past as did about five other children with their parents until one stopped in front of them.

"Why are you still here?" Donovan asked reaching forward to grab Vincent's hand. The boy pushed his body off the brick wall of the school as Valentina took place behind him. He shrugged.

"You poor things, where's your mommy and daddy?" The woman who could only be Donovan's mom reached out to touch Valentina's rosy cheek. She offered her a tissue. "We'll walk you two home, where do you live?"

"Uh, Barley Street," Vincent said.

"That's not too far," Donovan's Mom muttered, "do you know the house number, pumpkin?"

She received a shrug and shake of the head. The twins were assured it would be okay, and off they went, following the walkers route back to their house.

Once they appeared in front of the familiar, shabby, little one story house, Valentina felt herself blush.

"There? You live there?" Donovan asked, his mom shushed him quickly. Vincent stormed up the two steps and knocked, no one followed him. Why was Donovan looking at him weirdly? He didn't like it. So when the doorknob jiggled, he motioned for Valentina to follow. Lorenzo stared a moment before looking up.

"Thank you for bringing them home."

The door was shut before anyone could say goodbye.

Lorenzo and Cecilia argued over the incident for hours. Valentina and Vincent didn't get a wink of sleep, oh well. It's all their fault, anyways.

-

"What's so cool about a fake kitchen anyway?" Vincent asked.

"A play kitchen is super fun. You can make chicken and salad and cookies! Though there's not enough seasons for the chicken, just boring old salt. Yuck!" Donovan stuck his tongue out, swinging his short legs back and forth to get to the next monkey bar.

Vincent scrunched his nose. He blocked out Donovan's cooking complaints, focusing on holding on to the monkey bars. The gravel was miles down; he didn't want to fall. Though the sweat of his hands was planning other things, his palms slipped down and down. Then he was falling and landing on right on his butt.

"Vincent!"

He had tried flipped to save his fall, to catch himself with his hands, sending shooting pains through his wrists and tearing the tender flesh of his palms. Donovan was beside him in seconds, grabbing his wrist.

"Are you okay?"

Red teased the rim of his cut, not bleeding, but not a mere scratch either. Vincent blinked away tears as Donvan leaned down and kissed his hand. The hand was yanked away as Vincent grimaced in confusion, holding his hand to his chest.

"That's what my mommy does when I have a booboo, doesn't yours?"

Vincent scrunched his nose, shrugging. A whistle saved him, and the two were standing up and walking inside. It wasn't brought up again.