My High School Royal Boyfriend: A Sweet YA Secret Identity Romance (Boyfriend Series (River Valley High) Book 5)

by Kylie Key

  “I like fashion and clothes,” I blurted, momentarily forgetting that I wasn’t Blair P. Nobody would have looked at Blaire and thought she had any fashion sense. Mom had purposely chosen chainstore clothes for me, nothing special, nothing with any particular style. Just standard jeans, pants, t-shirts and jackets. For a girl who had been wearing designer brands since birth, I’d cried when Mom bought me the unlabeled clothes. But now I realized it didn’t matter. I didn’t look out of place at River Valley High, and Margaret made my clothes smell like flowers, just like she had at home.

  “Your purple shoes are so cute,” Lily said, and I knew she’d had to dig deep to compliment me.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Hey, I see that Ethan starred in the fall production.”

  “Yeah, he was really good. He played the Scarecrow.”

  “He’s kind of cute,” I said.

  Lily didn’t take the bait. “He’s an awesome actor.”

  “Were you in it?”

  Lily shook her head. “It was a musical and I’m a terrible singer.” She made an attempt at a laugh, but the noise that came out was like a snorting horse. She dropped her head and looked embarrassed.

  “I’m sure you’re not,” I said.

  Mrs Dornan was worried about how little time we had to prepare, so we jumped straight into the opening scene, which was Santa and the elves. Both Lily and Ethan had brought carrots for Olivia. It was like they both knew she would forget, which she had.

  Mrs Dornan wasn’t focused on delivery of lines, she was more concerned about stage direction. As the zombies were waiting for their turn, I was surprised to see Alex standing next to Mrs Dornan, holding some sort of discussion.

  “Cut!” Mrs Dornan yelled, and she rearranged the bunch of elves in the background. A few minutes later, it was the same thing, though this time telling Ethan to stand on an angle and for Lily to move forward. The next time she shouted, it was Alex who suggested the workshop elves could be wrapping up presents instead of sitting on the floor, and that Chloe, Olivia and I should be filling the toy sacks.

  When the zombies took the stage, I could see he was directing the kids, at one point coming down and conversing with Mrs Dornan. Whatever he said, the zombies were then divided into two groups and were to do a choreographed dance, zombie style of course.

  Time flew, and Mrs Dornan called it a night, saying she was pleased with the progress. We discussed what needed to be done before the next practice. I approached Chloe and Olivia to show them my idea for the costumes, but they dismissed me instantly and said they didn’t like it and were capable of dressing themselves.

  After Lily’s enthusiastic response, it was discouraging to be brushed off.

  “Hey, let me see.” Alex appeared beside me, as I was slipping the sketches back into my bag.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said. He’d barely acknowledged me all evening, but to be fair he had been rather preoccupied.

  “I wanna see,” he said.

  “It’s just something I thought the main elves could wear,” I said, unfolding my drawings. “I thought a fur lined skirt and buttons on the vest would look kind of cute. And maybe a hood would be a little different."

  Alex stared at my sketch for longer than was necessary. I was waiting for him to criticize it, but he said, “I like it. You could really make this?”

  “Uh, yeah, if I have the right fabric, I should be able to,” I said, “And my aunt would be able to help. My great aunt.”

  “Your great aunt,” he mimicked, like he was mocking me.

  “Uh,” I frowned, knowing I needed to change the conversation, and teased, “So seems like you’re directing the play now?”

  He smiled bashfully, winced and brought his face so close to mine that his breath fanned my cheek. With his hand covering his mouth, he said, “I don’t know that Mrs Dornan has a clue about acting.”

  A flood of adrenaline sent my heartbeat into acceleration mode; dopamine skyrocketing me to my happy place—Alex Lord, up close and personal, whispering into my ear. It didn’t get better than this.

  Neither of us moved, neither of us said anything. A faint scent clouded us, but I couldn’t describe the smell if you asked me—it was something uniquely Alex. I wanted to stay in that bubble forever.

  But my fantasy was stifled by Mrs Dornan’s announcement. “Okay, I’ll see you all tomorrow! And bring your costumes if you have them!”

  “Do you have your zombie costume?” I said, at the same time as he said, “Do you need a ride home?”

  Then we both said, “No.”

  Then we laughed.

  And then we stopped laughing.

  Ryan and I had kissed, quite a lot, so I was experienced with lips, yet for some reason I couldn’t stop from staring at Alex’s. Gah...I wanted to know whether they were as soft and plump as they looked!

  “I don’t mind giving you a ride,” he said.

  I made myself look at his jacket, zipped up to the top, the branded label exactly the same as one in my closet in Covington Heights.

  “Uh, I came with Lily,” I said, looking side to side in search of her.

  Alex strode over to where Lily, Ethan and Mrs Dornan were pointing at the stage. He tapped her shoulder and bent to speak. Lily looked over and a flush of color spread up my neck and over my cheeks. Thank goodness for glasses to hide behind.

  Lily followed Alex back over to me. She was going to feel betrayed and abandoned. How dare Alex try to break up the only friendship I had!

  “Are you okay with that?” Lily asked. “Is it okay for Alex to take you home? Ethan and I are just going to go over the sleigh scene.”

  “Uh, yeah...sure.” Now it was me feeling abandoned.

  Lily covered her hand over her mouth, just as Alex had done earlier. “I knew he liked you,” she sniggered, and she pushed me in Alex’s direction. Lily playing matchmaker? Alex was nonchalantly staring into space, jingling his keychain. He raised his eyebrows at Lily, who wiggled her fingers at him, then at me.

  I waved back, and to think that I wanted to set her up with Ethan. That girl was one step ahead of me!

  Chapter 8

  Alexander

  I stood in the cafeteria, my tray crammed with what my mother would call the unhealthiest food choice known to man—chicken nuggets. She said they were manufactured, tasteless and high in fat, and there was no reason to ever put one in your mouth. Whereas, I liked them. And I wasn’t alone. If you weren’t early enough to lunch, chances are you would miss out.

  I looked around the room, my heart sinking at the thought of spending forty minutes listening to Chloe and Olivia drone on about their social media accounts, or Josh and Rebecca and their running schedule. Moving down the side of the room, I plonked myself on the nearest empty seat before they sighted me.

  I’d eaten about three nuggets before I glanced around to see Lily on the opposite side of the table. There were kids on either side of her, but the script in front of her indicated she was alone.

  “Learning your lines?” I said, sliding across into the next chair.

  She swallowed whatever was in her mouth and said, “Hi.” Then she sipped on her water bottle. “Yeah, trying to.”

  Lily had clearly had some sort of surgery, as she had a scar running from under her nose to her top lip. Her lips were a little off-center, a little uneven. I had no idea what could have caused it.

  “You’ll be fine,” I said, “you’re a natural.”

  “Thank you,” she said. When she smiled her blue eyes sparkled and her whole face lit up, like a proverbial Christmas tree.

  “Uh, where’s your friend?” I pretended to look around. “You know, Blaire?”

  “She doesn’t eat in here,” she said. “I think she brings her lunch.”

  I nodded. Probably made by her great aunt. She had a weird way of always mentioning her great aunt. “She must be in the library. She practically lives in there.” I tossed another nugget in my mouth and with my mouth half full said, “So, you haven
’t seen her today?”

  Lily shook her head, and then looked up in sudden amazement, like she’d just cracked the passcode to her best friend’s phone. “Hey, that’s right, you took her home last night!” My lips twitched. Her eyes narrowed. “Alex?”

  “I was wondering if she said something to you,” I said, my voice a low mumble in case anyone else was listening. Revealing my rejection was going to be embarrassing.

  “I don’t have any classes with her. Other than Theater Arts,” she said. “Why? What happened?”

  I shook my head and looked down at my nuggets. They really did look unappetizing. “She kind of froze me out. I mean we were talking and all, and then she went cold on me and couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. I mean, I don’t think I offended her, but...” My voice drifted off. Thinking about last night was devastating, it was painful. And worse, I didn’t know what I’d said to upset Blaire. Was it a simple miscommunication? The difference between American English and British English? Were we really so different?

  “What did you say?” Lily asked.

  “Okay, we were talking about the show first, the zombie costumes and she offered to help me with my makeup.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  “Yep. Then we talked about the River Valley mall, because she wanted to shop for the elf costume, you know.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Then I said I could come with her, that I probably needed to grab something.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I said we could do that tomorrow after school, meaning today. And then I said we could go to the ice cream parlor in town. Do you know it?”

  “Peter’s Ice Cream Shoppe?”

  “Yeah, I went there on the weekend.”

  “It’s the best ice cream,” Lily said.

  “Yep, it is. So that’s what I said. And she jumped out of the car faster than a—” Just the memory dazed me.

  “Speeding bullet?” Lily offered.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, “faster than a speeding bullet.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “Did I get it wrong? Shouldn’t I have asked?”

  Lily frowned again. “What exactly did you say?”

  “Just what I said. Hey, have you been to the famous River Valley ice cream parlor yet? Maybe we could go. That’s basically what I said. And she virtually jumped out of the car and ran into her house.”

  “That’s weird,” Lily said. “Maybe her aunt is strict?”

  I had no words, shrugging my only answer. The attraction to Blaire was something I couldn’t explain, and it seemed to grow every time I saw her. I had made a conscious decision to stay away from her at rehearsal, putting all of my energy into helping Mrs Dornan with stage direction, but my resolve had crumbled. When Chloe and Olivia had rudely belittled her, I felt a desperate need to jump in. My mother had brought me up with impeccable manners, so like a knight in shining armor I’d come to her rescue. Her adorable accent and the cute way she scrunched up her nose sent a tingling in the roof of my mouth, and before I knew it I’d fought off Lily to take her home.

  And all was good, until the innocuous invitation for ice cream sent her fleeing as if on the run from a serial killer.

  Lily was packing her papers away. “I’ll go and find her,” she said, “and see what’s going on.”

  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I said, but only half-heartedly, because I did want Lily to find out what I’d done wrong. I gave her my number so she could text me.

  And then I sat and stared at my chicken nuggets, my appetite totally gone.

  I HAD RUN FAST THAT evening, faster than I ever had before. Faster than Simon, who was the school’s 100 meter champion. It was only forty meters from the pool to the back door and I hurdled several low meticulously manicured box hedges to shorten it to about thirty six. Simon went along the path, mindful of the precision of the garden.

  Adrenaline was pumping through me at a rate that caused actions to be spontaneous. You weren’t thinking, you were reacting.

  “CHESTER!” I sped through the back door and screamed in a voice that sounded hysterical. “CHESTER!”

  Seconds seemed like hours as I waited for a response, a noise, an alert to his whereabouts. He’d usually be pottering in the kitchen or the lounge, making a pot of tea or reading or watching snooker on the television.

  Simon had caught up to me by that stage, his breathing as ragged as mine. Chester appeared in the hallway, already aware that there was a crisis. He knew I wouldn’t shout out needlessly.

  “William,” I panted, “We called 999.”

  Chester had scrambled past me in his slippers. You’d never know he was seventy five years old in his red Liverpool sweatshirt and black training pants. As a Chelsea supporter, we never saw eye to eye on football, our discussions legendary.

  “He was blue,” I said, catching up to him, and my voice cracked, my words muffled by a sob, “He wasn’t breathing.”

  “Simon, can you get a blanket? There’s one in the lounge,” Chester said as calmly as if he were asking for the sheer reason of keeping warm.

  The silence was deafeningly obvious in the next few seconds as we approached the side of the pool. The music that had been blasting over the speaker just minutes ago, now shut down. Thomas was kneeling, his clasped hands pumping on William’s chest, like we’d been shown during a first aid class last year, or was it the year before? How had Thomas remembered what to do? In critical moments did you automatically recall everything you’d been taught? Niall was crouched on the other side holding his phone, while Jayden stood with hands on his head, tears streaming down his face. The only sound was Thomas’s quiet counting, “26, 27, 28...”

  Chester dropped next to Thomas. “Cover him, keep him warm,” he said.

  “Chester’s here,” Niall said with relief into the phone.

  “Is Chester an adult?” A woman’s voice came on speaker.

  “Yes, I am,” Chester said. Jayden hadn’t moved, so I grabbed a towel, but finding it was wet, I dropped it and dashed to the lounger chairs where Simon and I had been sitting with a beer. I scooped up two jackets, bringing them back to cover William’s trunk and legs.

  Chester was now working on William’s chest, the heel of his hand pushing down rhythmically. He was counting in unison with Thomas. At the count of 30, the woman on the phone said, “Now give him two breaths.”

  Chester breathed into William.

  “Carry on with compressions,” the woman said, and Chester and Thomas counted again.

  Simon arrived then, draping a dark blue mink blanket over William. I assisted, straightening the corners over William’s boots, the same type I wore. Then I thought I should take them off, wet and heavy, they’d be cold on his feet. My fingers worked on the laces, but they were tight, impossible to loosen the double knot that William, always the perfectionist, had tied. Simon grabbed my arm, pulling the blanket over them as if I shouldn’t bother, and we hunched down next to Niall, his trembling hand the most frightening thing I would remember of that night.

  The beat of my heart was frenetic, and there was no coherency of thought, only the ludicrous situation where Chester was tirelessly demanding William’s heart to beat and lungs to breathe, and Thomas counting compressions, and William’s lips a terrible shade of blue, an unforgettable shade of blue.

  “The ambulance is now two minutes away,” the woman said, “Can you make sure there’s someone there to direct them please.”

  “Yes,” I said, “yes, I’ll go.”

  I rose, Simon attached to me like we were conjoined twins.

  “Call your father,” Chester said softly, his eyes flicking up to me, unable to hide a blink of despair. A heaviness settled in my chest, knowing that a life-altering event was happening right here, right now. That the sound of the incoming siren indicated that the easy-going carefree life I shared with my friends was shattered. That the two minutes that it would take for the ambulance to reach us was the time it took to take a life and change us
forever.

  Chapter 9

  I was nibbling my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, not enjoying it in the slightest. I’d made the mistake of telling Margaret I loved them, and subsequently she packed one for me everyday. I felt bad about the times I’d dumped it in the trash the first week, because over the weeks I’d learnt that Margaret and Tony were very careful with their food, and it seemed disrespectful to throw it away. The ketchup bottle stood on end for days so that Tony could squeeze out every last remaining drop, and instead of throwing out the blackened bananas, Margaret put them in the freezer and said they’d be good for banana bread.

  “Hey!” The sound of Lily’s voice made me jerk my head. I smiled as she sat down next to me, catching her breath.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, closing the graphic novel I’d been reading, engrossed in the story. As well as studying the zombie pictures, of course.

  “Looking for you.” I opened my lunchbox and offered her its contents. Lily shook her head. “Thanks, but I ate in the cafeteria.”

  “My Great Aunt made the blueberry muffin,” I said, trying to entice her to the calories I didn’t need.

  Lily shook again. “Hey, I wondered if you wanted to go to the fabric store after school.”

  “Today?”

  “Sure. We could get some ideas for our costumes. Are you busy?”

  My heart hitched, thinking about last night and how Alex had taken me home after rehearsal. Everything had been going great. First Alex had gone to the passenger door of his truck, which had made me laugh—things were opposite in England, he said—and we’d talked so much that I wished I lived further away, like way over in Covington Heights far away. Too soon we were outside Margaret and Tony’s house. And he was suggesting we go to the mall to look for costumes, and then he asked if I’d been to Peter’s Ice Cream Shoppe—and I freaked out. Totally freaked out. All I could think of was being seen in my own family’s ice cream parlor, a place frequented by all my old friends, blowing my cover. In outright panic, I bolted from the car with barely a goodbye.