Page 3 of Her Royal Highness
“You’re not exactly an expert in girlfriends, Lee,” I say, and he gasps with faux outrage, his eyes still glued to the game.
“Howdareyou, Amelia Quint?” Then his face breaks out in a grin. “Also, yes, fair. But I am an expert inyou, and I don’twant to see you get your heart smashed. Darcy is being kind of bitchy, but Darcy is not necessarily wrong, which is usually the case with Darcy, let’s all be very real here.”
“Why do I even invite you over?” Darcy mutters, picking up her can of soda and taking a long sip.
“Because you love me, and you want to support my video game habit,” Lee says, then gives a triumphant whoop as the dragon on the screen flops down dead.
Tossing the controller to the thick carpet, he leans over me to grab the bag of cheese puffs that have ended up stuffed under the sofa. “This setup is so wasted on you, Darce,” he tells her. “You don’t even play.”
Darcy shrugs, and I take a cheese puff from Lee, careful not to get any crumbs on the carpet. Not that Darce or her parents would care. But their house is so nice that I feel likeIshould care.
Darcy’s dad works for some oil company in Houston, which means her family has a lot more money than mine or Lee’s does. It’s never been an issue, but I’m still really aware of the pretty flooring, the giant TVs, how Darce has her own bathroom attached to her bedroom.
Now she looks at me, eyes narrowed a little. “Jude said you got into that fancy school in Scotland.”
“What?” Bright orange flecks fly from Lee’s lips as he brings a hand up to his mouth, and I look back and forth between the two of them, my stomach dropping.
“She told you that?” I ask, and Darcy grabs the bag of cheese puffs from Lee.
“Yes,” Darce tells me. “Are you not going because of her?”
I pick up my soda again, more for something to do than because I’m actually thirsty. “No,” I finally say. “I’m not going because it’s expensive.”
Lee snorts at that. “Right, because a scholarship is totally beyond you, O Lady Smartypants.”
“Exactly,” Darcy agrees, and I just shrug. It bugs me that Jude said anything to Darcy, especially since I hadn’t told anyone else myself.
But I just say, “It’s probably too late to get financial aid. And it was a stupid idea to apply in the first place. I just... wanted to see if I could get in. I didn’t really want togo.”
“Calling major BS on that, Mill,” Lee says, wiggling his toes at me. “You were talking about Scotland all last year.”
“We watchedBraveat least three times over winter break,” Darcy adds, and I give both of them what I hope is a stern glare.
“A girl is allowed to change her mind,” I say, and then watch as they exchange glances.
“All I’m saying,” Darcy finally says before taking the controller from the floor and shutting off the Xbox, “is that you shouldn’t give up a great opportunity for Jude.”
“I’m not doing it for her,” I reply, but there’s that look between Lee and Darce again, and scowling at the two of them, I take the controller back, powering on the system again. I’ve still got two hours before I need to be home, and dammit, I’m going to kill a dragon.
“This isn’t about Jude, and even if it were, who cares? Mason coming back isn’t changing anything.”
CHAPTER3
“I would give up flushing toilets for that man.”
I look up from my phone toward the TV my aunt Vi is gesturing at or, more specifically, the very hot guy in a kilt she’s referencing.
It’s my third day over at Aunt Vi’s apartment, eating Snackwell’s and watching a show calledThe Seas of Time, about this lady who travels back in time and falls in love with a hot Highlander. I got addicted to it last year in the midst of my Scotland Fever, and brought over the DVDs for moral support. Aunt Vi’s latest breakup (Kyle the Bartender) has hit her hard, hence the sexy time-travel show and cookies.
I frown, studying the guy on the screen. “I like Callum a lot,” I say at last. “Especially his hair. But I feel like I enjoy flushing toilets more? Maybe?”
From her spot on the sofa, Aunt Vi sighs. She’s showered today, which is something, at least, and her dark hair is pulledback in a messy bun. “You have no sense of romance, Amelia,” she says, and I once again fight the urge to look at my phone.
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Jude, two weeks since we were kissing in the tent in my backyard, and she was supposed to get back from visiting her nana three days ago. I’ve been waiting on a text, but so far, no dice.
It’s hard not to make a connection between the return of Jude’s ex-boyfriend and her sudden radio silence, but trust me, those are dots I’m reallytryingnot to connect, no matter what Darcy said.
I know what me and Jude have, and it’s not just “a distraction” or whatever. It’s real. It’s an us, like Jude said...
