Page 6 of Evil King

Nikita and Nathan had been friends since they were kids, and I honestly believed that Nikita had a thing for Nathan. She was fiercely devoted to him, by which I mean she’d made herself comfortable with wielding blades of several sizes and would use them in an instant for Nathan’s benefit. She had a punk-girl look with dirty blond hair laced with strands of orange, red, and white. She almost always kept it braided down her back so that it was easy to see the several piercings lining her ears.

Jaxon was a little more of an enigma. In the four years that I’d known him, I think we’d exchanged maybe a hundred words, and his personality was never the same as the last time I spoke with him. Nathan called him a con artist, which had been confirmed in the several items and information the man had lifted for Nathan throughout the years. The only real thing I knew about him was that his name was Jaxon and that he was Philipino. His hair color changed often, but he tended to stick with an understated jean jacket over a long-sleeved shirt and black jeans, with boots as his exclusive choice of footwear.

“Hey, Nikita. Jaxon.”

Neither of them responded to me. Nikita didn’t even look in my direction, and though Jaxon did, it was a brief glance before he turned his attention back to twirling a pen in his hand while not-so-subtly staring at Colette.

“Glad to see we’ve all stayed the same,” I said.

I descended the stairs and went and plopped down next to Avery. Alistair kicked me as a sign of solidarity, and Avery took one of my hands into hers and squeezed. “You sure getting back together is a good idea?”

Even I was surprised when I started laughing. “No. It’s probably a horrible idea, but what have I got to lose? This year is gearing up to be another run-of-the-mill one.”

“At least it’s the last one,” Avery replied.

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “Thank god.”

3

Cherri

Aknock on my door made me smear my mascara across my cheek. I growled with dissatisfaction and yanked out one of my makeup wipes, knowing I’d have to reblend my cheek. “What?”

“Sorry, honey! Your friend is here,” my mother called back, and then her footsteps retreated down the hallway.

“Already?” I glanced at the time on my phone. School didn’t start for another hour, and we were only fifteen minutes away. I used a finger to navigate through my phone to Colette’s number and hit the green button to call, pressing the speaker button so I could get to fixing my makeup.

“I’m outside your house,” Colette said in lieu of any formal greeting.

“I know. Why are you so early?” I asked. “Avery’s on the way, and school is, like, fifteen minutes from here.” I used the wipe I pulled to clear my cheek of the smeared mascara and then started to slowly reapply my concealer and blush.

“I can’t help it. I’m so excited to get the year started. As outgoing valedictorian, I have responsibilities that have already started. You may think it’s early, but I’m late!”

I wasnota morning person. At my house around my family, I did okay, but I was often a grump all through early school mornings until around lunch. Colette, on the other hand, was the opposite. When she offered to pick Avery and me up for the first day of school so that we could all arrive together, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I rapidly remembered why I often tried my best to avoid Colette in the mornings.

“Well, I’m finishing my hair and makeup, so I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I said.

Colette scoffed, but said, “Fine,” and then the line went dead.

In more of a rush than I was hoping for, I fixed my makeup, grabbed my backpack, and left the room. I swung through the kitchen and offered an apology for dining and dashing on my mom, who’d made a huge breakfast for our first day. I snagged a few pieces of bacon, gave Gus a kiss on the forehead, and wished him a good day, and then I was out the door.

I opened the front passenger side door of Colette’s cliche white BMW and hopped in. Along with her pixie cut, Colette was wearing a white blouse with a beige bow tie, a ruffled black skirt, and black stilettos on her feet. She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, then reached out and ruffled my hair, which I’d decided to wear down for the day.

“Wow. Volume achieved! It looks great.”

“Yeah?” I responded. “I started using this new shampoo that really fluffs it up.”

“It looks really good. Nathan’s gonna love it.”

I forced out a chuckle. “I hope so.”

The bracelet that Nathan had given me was a heavy weight on my wrist. So much of who I was had somehow become associated with Nathan. It wasn’t as if I didn’t understand that he was the crux of The Royal Court, but part of me had still hoped in the past four years that I would come to be known on my own. Avery and Alistair saw me for who I really was, but a majority of the court still saw me as a subset of Nathan, nothing more.

Colette started her car. “Okay. Let’s go get Avery.”

Avery was only a five-minute drive from my house. None of us lived very far from each other since the upper-class all lived in South Postings. I’d barely gotten settled in my seat when we were already pulling up in front of her house. Unlike me, Avery was sitting outside, waiting. Her hair was also down in a wild, beautiful, curled mane around her head, and she wore a simple, understated tan tank top and black leggings with tan booties. I would forever be jealous of how stunning she was.

She skipped her way over to the car and climbed into the back seat, scratching at the top of my head lovingly as she slid in. She moved over to settle into the middle seat. “Senior year!” she cheered.

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