Young Clyde heard a tapping on his window. At least it sounded like tapping, though maybe it was just the wind or something else. But the sound had a weird rhythm to it.
Again—more tapping.
Clyde stared at the window and wondered if he should call for help, but if he was wrong, he’d be in even more trouble. He was in the third week of a month-long grounding for the grocery store incident, and his parents were taking this one very seriously. In the past, they let things slide halfway through, but not this time—they were sending a message.
More tapping.
There could be no doubt about it now. Someone was there. The sound didn’t seem aggressive or threatening, but one thing was clear: if he didn’t address it fast, his parents would. And knowing his luck, that would mean another five months added to his punishment. He had to go check. After all, a crook or murderer wouldn’t politely knock to be let in… would they?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Clyde got out of bed and slipped on his slippers. If he got kidnapped, he didn’t want to be barefoot—escaping through a forest, like in that scary movie he’d seen once, would be impossible with bare feet. His legs felt like iron as he crossed the floor, but he finally reached the window. The tapping had stopped, and he hoped whoever it was had left. Still, he was here now; he might as well look.
He pulled back the curtain and stumbled backward. Someone was actually at his window—and when they saw him, they knocked harder. Clyde’s heart banged in his chest almost as loudly as the knock.
His eyes focused, and the fear dissolved, though his heartbeat didn’t slow at all.
“Princess?” he whispered, though she couldn’t hear him through the glass.
He ran forward, unlatched the window, and opened it. She climbed in instantly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I missed you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“How did you even find me?”
“My mom—the Queen—drove. She wanted me to knock and meet your parents, but I told her I didn’t think they liked me. I begged her to let me do it this way.” The Princess hopped onto his bed. “It’s not pretty, but it’s soft.”
“You don’t think your mom will talk to my mom, do you? The reason I can’t come over anymore is because the grocer called my parents.”
“He called the Queen too, but she didn’t care. She told him he needed to calm down and give us kids a break. She said we weren’t doing anything out of meanness—we were just playing. They got in a big fight, and now we don’t go there anymore.”
“Your mother sounds cool.”
“She is. She’s a queen, after all.”
“Thanks for coming, Princess.”
“I wish I could take you out of this tower and free you from your captivity, but alas, all I can offer is my friendship.”
Clyde hugged her. It was perfectly awkward, and perfectly worth it. Then he let go, pulled out a dragon puzzle, and the two of them worked on it together. He kept expecting his parents to barge in and ruin everything, but sometimes a night is too magical for anything to go wrong.
This was Clyde’s night.