Page 42 of Royally Rivalled

“That is a Glaswegian accent, Astrid. That is how people here talk.”

She looked appalled. “I live in a home with a cacophony of accents... but that is...”

“You should visit Wales... and Manchester. Both would blow your mind.”

She cocked her head. God, she could be so adorable when something confused her! Why did she make me want hersobadly?

We stood at the back of the elevator, silent and awkward. I tried not to look at her in the mirror and failed. She looked sad, bursting into tears. I had a little more energy for tears but felt for her. This was horrid. It wasn't howIwanted to spend my evening, either.

“It will be okay,” I said.

She tried to hide the fact that she was crying. Her voice squeaked, “I know.”

Gone was Astrid's strength, conviction, and confidence—things that most attracted me to her. I needed to care for her even if I hatedtears and struggled with emotions. I couldn’t be sore with pitiful and frightened Astrid. I wasn't soulless.

“It will be alright,” I said. “Sit. It's better if you... sit.”

Astrid sat, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her delightful little chin rested on her knees. She rocked slightly back and forth, trying to ground herself. She was claustrophobic.

“I'm... frightened,” Astrid admitted. “And.. this space.”

“I know. It's kind of small.”

“Don't do that!”

“What?” I asked.

“Your bullshit empathy.”

I recoiled. “Is it bullshit if it is empathy?”

“Is it empathy or judgement?”

“It's empathy!”

She hurt me. I was trying here—attempting to help her and care for her. Why was she so bad at accepting it?

“It wasn't. Every time I think you are being nice, Parker—every fucking time—you bring me back down with a thud. I amsickof it!”

“What?”

“I thought we were good,” Astrid said. “Starting to bond a little. And then... I felt ignored. I thought we had bonded at the dance, but you ignored me all week.”

“You ignored me!”

“Well, then there was the train.”

“The train? I apologised for that.”How much must I grovel for her to forgive me for what she assumed was malicious intent?

“I know but… you always say something. And it’s unintentional, but it makes me feel stupid!”

In the small space, her voice boomed.

“I don't believe you are stupid, Astrid. And either way, you don’t need to worry what I think.”

“I care because you are clever, and people respect you. Believe it or not, I do want to impress you. It’s stupid! I’m better at calculus and programming than you are. I don’t need you to tell me that, but Iwantyou to!”

I wanted to dispute it, but she was right. Objectively, Astrid was better at both those things. She was a pint-sized genius. Astrid longed to be seen and heard. She wantedpraise. Her claustrophobia amplified her insecurity. Thankfully, praise for her didn’t require much thought. It poured out of me now. All I’d been holding in could be laid bare. She couldn’t escape, and I could have been braver without interlopers—tucked away from the outside world.