Page 28 of Her Royal Highness
“He doesn’t seem like quite as much a mess as he once was?” she offers, and Flora snorts, picking up her own glass of dark beer.
“He’s just getting better at hiding it,” she says, and Saks gives a cheerful shrug.
“In any case, still worth a shot. And then,” she adds, patting my hand, “we’ll find you a cute local boy.” She winks, long eyelashes fluttering. “Haven’t you always wanted to learn what’s under a Scotsman’s kilt?”
I turn my glass of lukewarm soda around in my hands, giving Saks a weak smile. “Intriguing as solving that mystery might be, I am actually not interested in dating anyone right now.”
“She didn’t say dating,” Flora pipes up, leaning forward so that her jumper falls off her shoulder, revealing a hot pink bra strap. “But there’s no harm in sampling the local wares on a more casual basis, Quint. Live a little.”
I fight the urge to glare at Flora, because I feel like I do that so much, my face might get stuck that way. Instead, I say, “Not interested in sampling, either. I just broke up with someone.”
Technically, Jude and I didn’t break up, since we technically never “went out,” but it’s the easiest way to explain what happened between us.
Hi?
I can still see it sitting there on my laptop, but I push the thought away.
These people don’t need to know all about that sad story. I’m just hoping it’s an acceptable excuse for enjoying my soda in peace and quiet rather than playing Tumble in the Heather with some random local.
But Saks makes an exaggerated sad face at me, corners of her mouth turning down, lower lip poking out. On anyone else, I’d think she was making fun of me, but everything Saks does is a little outsized, so this seems sincere.
“Poor lamb,” she says, patting my hand again. “What was his name?”
Ah. Here we go. I did spend some time thinking of this moment before I ever left for Scotland. How I was going to talk to people about the whole bi thing. I wasn’t out or in in Texas, really. I mean, Lee and Darcy knew, Jude obviously knew, but it wasn’t a thing that had come up. Before the whole thing with Jude, I’d only dated a couple of boys before, Matt Lawrence freshman year (for a whole two months), and Diego Lopez my sophomore year (fourwhole months). But in Scotland, I decided that if it came up, I was going to honest about it. Casual, even. Like this was my chance to fully start being me, I guess.
So I just shrug. “Hername was Jude,” I say, and Flora’s gaze flicks over to me for a second before she goes back to studying the other patrons with that carefully schooled bored expression she’s so good at.
“Oh, so when you do decide to get back out there, we need to find you a lass instead of a lad, understood.” Saks is cheerful now, grinning as she sits up, and I can’t help but laugh a little as I shake my head.
“Lads are good, too,” I tell her. “I am pro both lads and lasses in the general sense, but not interested in either at the moment. I came here for school, not romance.”
“You can do both, you know.” Flora again. She’s leaning back against the booth, arms folded over her chest. “Last time I checked, Gregorstoun wasn’t a nunnery.”
“It might as well be,” Saks says, looking back over at Seb, who’s still standing by the bar. There’s a blond girl next to him now, and as we watch, Seb leans against the bar, giving her a grin so potent it should be classified as a weapon.
Flora follows her gaze and then snorts as she lifts her pint to her lips. “You can do far better than my brother,” she says once she’s drained about a third of the glass. Impressive, and also very unprincesslike.
“Better than a prince?” Saks scoffs, and Flora nods.
“Better than a prince who’s a git, yes. I adore Seb, obviously, but I wouldn’t wish him on any woman.”
Someone has turned on music in the pub now, and an old Kylie Minogue song drifts through the darkened pub.
I take a sip of my soda, wondering when we can leave, when a boy suddenly appears at our booth.
Looking at me.
He’s cute enough, with dark hair flopping over his brow, and he offers a hand to me. “Wanna dance?”
I glance around.
Surely he can’t mean me? I’m sitting at a table with two goddesses, but me, the short brunette wearing aDON’T TAKE ME FOR GRANITE!T-shirt is the one he wants to dance with?
I give him an awkward smile, shaking my head. “No, thank you.”
But apparently they don’t give up easy up here, because he reaches out to take my arm. “You sure?”
“Fairly sure!” I reply, glancing around me. Saks and Perry are talking to each other in low voices, completely oblivious to what’s going on, and Flora is just watching, probably because she’s bored.
