Page 68 of Prince Charmless
“Whatever,” I say. “He’s not going to be a problem.” He’s Gaël’s issue now. “Thank you, Alex, for...everything, honestly, I have to go.”
There’s only one thing I want to do right now.
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The person who opens Melina’s door is not Melina. It’s a man. A man who looks like he drinks protein shakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I bet he has some crazy four-hour morning workout routine that I don’t have time for.
He calls for “Lina” over his shoulder, then says something in Spanish. I went to an international Catholic school in Spain as a teenager. I don’t remember much of the Spanish I picked up from Our Lady of Guadeloupe, and I especially can’t understand it when it’s spoken fast. Idomake out he says, ‘little friend’, and ‘prince’. When he crosses his tattooed arms, everything registers.
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
Mateo, I’m assuming, turns back to meet me at eye level. I brace for impact.
“I want you to remember something, bud.”Bud?“I don’t care who you are, Prince of St. Claire, Queen of Sheba, if you eventhinkabout doing something stupid to my sister, I will know about it and I will find you.”
This guy is going to kill me.
“Mateo!”
Melina comes out of the bedroom barefoot, wearing frayed jeans, and a large t-shirt that saysSt. Claire Hackathon 2019.A different look than last night, but just as beautiful.
“What are you doing?” she asks him.
“Your friend here was just telling me about his rash.” He leans into her ear. “Sounds pretty contagious,” he whispers. “I’d steer clear.”
Melina ignores him. “Taylor,” she says. “You’re very speedy. It feels like you just texted me.”
I was in such a rush to get ready this morning, I forgot to tell her that I was coming over until a stoplight a few blocks down.
She gestures to her brother, who’s currently eyeing me up and down behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “This is my—”
“Mateo,” he says, shaking my hand very firmly. It’s like I can feel the words ‘don’t fuck with me’ etched into his palm. “Lina and I met when we were neighbors back in embryo. Who are you?”
“All right, you’ve made enough jokes for the day, Mateo.”
Melina pushes on his back, and I move into Melina’s apartment to let him through. When she’s not looking, he straightens his face and uses two fingers to point to his eyes, then to mine. Whatever he asks in Spanish to Melina includes the wordsmarriageandrich. She laughs and answers, “No” before closing the door.
“What did he, uh, say to you?” I’m curious if it was another threat.
“He asked if you could get him out of a parking ticket.”
There’s no doubt his question was more in-depth than what she interpreted. Hopefully, there wasn’t any mention of asphyxiation or regicide.
“Mateo’s had some reporters come by his work asking about me,” she says. “And my mom has had some come to her salon. I’ve got emails from brands and sketchy agents asking if I’m interested in becoming an influencer. People think I’m the next princess of St. Claire. I have to be honest, this is a little suffocating. I don’t know how you live like this.”
Everything with me has to be some huge production that affects the lives of people I haven’t even met. And I don’tlive like this.I’m not a woman. How the media discusses male members of my family is much more sophisticated. Before her cancer, thepress only talked about my mother in terms of her relationship with my father. Now, when anyone googles Melina’s name, it’ll be a drunken kiss that shows up first, as if that’s her life’s defining moment.
A lump forms in my throat. “I’m so sorry, Melina.”
“They said it’s only been one or two reporters, and they left after they didn’t comment. It’s not your fault you’re...” She trails off like I have a chronic illness she doesn’t want to say out loud. Nonetheless, I should’ve been more responsible.
“Itismy fault,” I say. “You didn’t sign up for a stupid inebriated decision.”
“I don’t want you to apologize to me.”
“Why? I kissed you in front of paparazzi. It was the single dumbest thing I could’ve done.”
“Because it was nice, all right! It was...you’re visually enjoyable, okay?”
