Page 34 of Something in Between

“Okay, so you like to read. Does that mean you want to be a writer, then?”

“Yeah, like a journalist, I think,” he says with a flash of a smile. “Like Mailer was. And you know, like those guys who bust cover-ups and that sort of thing.”

“You’re not just a writer, you’re a crusader. An activist.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “But whatever I do, it’s definitely not going to be politics.” Whenever he sayspolitics, his mouth makes a hard line, like it’s distasteful. “What about you?”

“Law or medicine,” I say automatically. “I want to make a difference, but I don’t know exactly in what arena yet.”

“Cool,” he says. “You’ve got time, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, isn’t it funny? You already know what you want to do, and I don’t, and I was the one who gave you advice.”

He laughs. “I guess I do know what I want. I just don’t know if I can do it.”

“Why not?” I ask, concerned at the look on his face.

“I don’t think my dad would be too impressed, honestly.”

“Oh.” I feel bad about that. My parents will be happy with whatever I choose. Royce looks uncomfortable so I try to change the subject, sort of. “Your dad seems busy,” I say.

“Yeah, it’s a crazy time for him, especially with a vote on this immigration bill coming up soon.”

“Right.” Wrong subject. I really wish we could talk about something else right now.

“The leadership of the party wants him to move up the ranks. I think they want to test whether he could be a real presidential candidate someday,” he says proudly.

Yeah, ride that anti-immigration platform all the way to the top, I think but don’t say.

Just my luck, that the first boy I’ve ever been really interested in is related to someone who has dim views of people like me. “That must be exciting for you. About your father being groomed for president, I mean.” But I move away from him, stand up from the bench, and walk out of the enclosed area. I need a little cold air right now.

Royce follows me outside to the edge of the rail. “Not really. The busier Dad gets, the more I feel like a prop in his perfect political life. He carts Mom and I out to his parties. His speeches. Mason usually refuses to go, and my sister’s too young.”

“Do you agree with him about the immigration bill? That undocumented immigrants shouldn’t have a path to citizenship?” I ask, staring out at the view and too nervous to look directly at him. I have to know, before we get any closer, before anything happens between us. Do I want something to happen?

I sneak a peek at his face. Yes. I want something to happen. He’s not just handsome, he’s sweet and smart too.Please say you don’t agree with your dad.How can you agree with your dad when you love that quote fromArmies of the Night?

Royce turns around and leans back against the railing, the city lights illuminating his chestnut hair and high cheekbones. “I’m not sure. To be honest, I don’t really care about politics that much,” he says.

It’s not the answer I want, but at least he didn’t say he agreed with it, and maybe he can’t be disloyal to his father.

“Hey,” I say, wanting to change the subject and suddenly realizing something. “Are you related to that family on TV?” He has the same name as them, sort of. Maybe there’s a connection.

“Royce Rollsyou mean? Only the most famous reality show family in Hollywood?” he says drily.

I try not to squeal, but the show is my guilty pleasure. I’m obsessed with the Royces. “Bentley Royce is my favorite,” I say, meaning the hellion wild child with the smart mouth and the vulnerable streak.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, unfortunately we’re distant cousins. Royce is a family name.”

I shriek. “God, you’re so LA! You’re related to celebrities!”

He laughs. “If you can call them that.”

I smile back, but a draft of cold makes me shiver in the night air. I’m wearing only a thin wrap with my dress. Because the event was held at our hotel, I didn’t need to bring a heavier coat.

Royce notices and removes his jacket and puts it on my shoulders. “You look cold.”

“Thanks.” His coat is soft and warm, and has a wonderful masculine smell. I snuggle deeper into it, feeling as if it’s his arms that are around me.

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