The Royal Treatment

by Lindsey Leavitt

  “Everyone has to try it sometime.” I planted the brake of my skate so I wouldn’t wobble. “Just make sure the kids don’t plow into you when you fall down.”

  “And tell me exactly why you’ve jumped from the violin to roller skates?” Kylee triple-checked her laces.

  “Because if I fail at this, I’m only hurting myself. My violin playing hurt everyone, or at least their ears. And it’s fun.” Fun for an unknown, fashion-savvy princess. The music stopped and the DJ called for skaters ages eight and under to line up for races. A guy in a referee uniform skated to the middle of the rink and blew a whistle at a kid trying to push to the front. When the ref caught me watching him, he waved.

  I ducked my head. “You know what, you’re right. This is dumb. We’ll grab some nachos and go home.”

  “I was kidding. We already paid.”

  “I’ll pay for you,” I said. “I’ll pay you to leave right now.”

  “What’s the—” Kylee noticed the ref and her face colored. “Desi. Don’t look now, but you’ll never guess who the referee is.”

  “Gee. I bet I can.”

  “It’s Reed.”

  I shot another quick look at him. His whistle was still between his lips.

  I will not think about his lips. “Oh, is it?”

  “So we go all summer without seeing him, and he was here the whole time? I wish I knew—I could have planned.” She smoothed down the baby hairs around her forehead. “I’m a mess. And I can’t even skate! What should we do?”

  “Leave?”

  “No way. This is fate telling me to buck up. If I can’t do this now, then it’s a sign.”

  “Sign of what?”

  “That I’m wasting my time. If I can’t talk to the boy, why bother? I never have a problem talking to other people. I’m not going to have a shallow crush like you did on Hayden.” She reached over and squeezed my knee. “No offense.”

  “Hey.” I slapped her hand. “There is something to be said for shallow crushes.”

  “Not on unshallow boys. Seriously, though. This is great.” Kylee found lotion in her purse and started lathering it onto her hands. “Now, do I have anything in my teeth?”

  Reed blew his whistle and the music cranked up while the first age group raced around the rink. Reed skated over to a frustrated boy who kept flopping over. He whispered in the kid’s ear and took his hand. They crossed the finish line together.

  Kylee fidgeted with her shirt. I tried to stay calm too. This was the first time I’d seen Reed in non-play world since my blowup. I could tell my distance confused him, and probably hurt him. He even tried to talk to me about it once, but when I acted like nothing was wrong, he got the hint and kept our relationship light and casual. Sometimes I’d slip and make a joke, but mostly we were back to where we had been on the day of the audition. Which was good. I didn’t need him critiquing my every move. Or being a know-it-all. Or standing so close that I could smell that clean Reed scent of ocean and soap.

  When the races ended and the dance music started again, Reed skated to the edge of the rink and leaned over the guardrail. “First you hardly talk to me at rehearsals, and now you’re stalking me at work?”

  “No.” I ran my hand along the railing. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

  “Yeah, ever since my family moved to Sproutville last June.”

  Kylee opened her mouth like she was going to make a comment, but clamped it shut. Fate wasn’t being kind to her yet.

  “I never see anyone I know at work, unless they’re picking up a little brother or something,” Reed said. “So this is perfect! Are you two big skaters?”

  Kylee looked down at her rented skates. “I’ve actually never roller-skated before.”

  “Seriously? It’s a breeze. Want me to teach you?”

  “Um…” Kylee drew out the um forever, her face going pink. “Yeah. Yes. That would be great.”

  Reed held out his hand, and Kylee edged onto the rink. She turned back to smile at me, her face flushed and anxious. Reed led her away, one hand holding hers, the other waving animatedly as he spoke. I watched for a second, happy that Kylee was finally getting her chance to talk to Reed, happier still that I wasn’t. Then I pictured myself with a tiara on my head and a dress flowing around my skates, and set off to master roller-skating for my secret royal client. I circled around and around the rink, gaining speed and confidence as I went along.

  Three laps later, Kylee zipped past me, right into the wall.

  “Ow!” she yelled as she rolled onto her back, her legs straight up in the air like three-day-old roadkill. “Ow!”

  Reed and I raced over. He kneeled down next to her. “I’m so sorry! Your hand slipped right out of mine.”

  Kylee moaned. “Lotion.”

  “Which part hurts?” Reed asked.

  “The body part. All of it. Ow!”

  I rolled up her pant leg to check the damage. “Well, you’re bleeding a little. How does your head feel? Why did you go all Speed Racer?”

  “My head’s fine. Help me up.” Reed and I hoisted her into a sitting position. She slumped against the wall. “I told Reed I wanted to go faster. My fault.”

  “No, I should have held on tighter. It was like that scene in Titanic, when the guy lets go and he drowns in the ocean.”

  “Except you let her go.” Some teacher. Kylee could have a concussion or internal injuries now.

  “I can take you in the back if you want,” Reed said. “There’s a first-aid kit.”

  “Thanks. But I’m fine.”

  “No, you aren’t. Hey, it’s my job to help. Let me at least get you a drink—” Reed startled a bit, and the smile faded from his face. He stood quickly and ran his hand through his hair. “I have to go.”

  “Go where?” I asked.

  “Go work.”

  “You just said helping Kylee is your job.” I looked around. “And she’s the only one on the ground right now.”

  “Thanks for pointing that out.” Kylee rubbed her shins.

  “That’s what I mean.” Reed was already rolling away. “I’m going to get her a drink. Be back.”

  “Aren’t you going to help her up?” I called, but Reed disappeared into the skate rental room. I looked back at Kylee. “Not exactly a knight in shining armor, is he?”

  “He saved your life. Guess I wasn’t in distress enough. Or maybe my roller-skating skills repulsed him and he had to flee.”

  “That was weird,” I said. “He’s weird.”

  “No, he’s not. Don’t talk about him like that. Pull me up.” Kylee skirted the wall until she reached the opening and clopped over to our bench. She eased down and moaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow. I get to choose what we do next time we hang out, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought this would be fun. Anything you want.”

  “Zombie movie. No, zombie marathon.”

  “I’ll wear my sunglasses so you don’t see me sleeping through it.”

  “Sleep? How can you sleep through the apocalypse?”

  I skated over to the bathroom and wet some paper towels to clean up her scratches. I knelt down in front of her bleeding left knee. She winced as I dabbed.

  “Reed should be doing this. Where’s Mr. First Aid now?”

  Kylee was quiet for a few seconds, her expression thoughtful. She finally leaned down and whispered. “Desi. Do you like him?”

  “Reed?” I stopped mid-dab. “Are you kidding me? What makes you say something crazy like that?”

  “Because you two talk like you’ve known each other forever.”

  “We’re in a play together.”

  “You hit it off the first time you met.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I crumpled up the paper towel. “We’re friends. Actually, when he gets all bossy, we aren’t even that.”

  “I’m just saying maybe you’re a better match for him. He talked the whole time we skated, and I froze. Like usual. I’m not myself with him, and it’s stupid.”
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  “Give it time.”

  “I still think he’s cute. And sweet.”

  “And funny,” I added.

  “See?” she said softly. “You do like him.”

  “No, I promise I don’t. I like someone else.”

  “Like that prince.”

  I nearly choked on my gum. Karl? SHE KNEW ABOUT KARL? How? Did I leave my manual somewhere, or had I let his name slip by accident.…

  “He’s all over your Wall o’ Awesome Things. Maybe I should have a celebrity crush too.”

  I wiped at my forehead. Deep breaths, Desi. Kylee knew I liked Karl. She had no clue I knew Karl. Secret’s safe. And as for all this Reed stuff, well…that was…well, it was…ridiculous. That’s what it was.

  The rental room door clicked open and Reed skated out, his hair messy. He was all apologies when he saw us. “Sorry, girls! A referee’s job is never done.”

  “I thought you were getting Kylee a drink.”

  “I am! Had to check on the foot spray situation.

  Disturbing stuff. I’ll save you the details. Since you were so patient, I’ll finagle you some nachos. Here, be right back.”

  “Nachos? He thinks nachos makes up for leaving you stranded?” I asked Kylee.

  “Don’t go drama, Des.”

  Reed came back with three drinks and soggy, cheesy chips.

  “Thanks,” Kylee said.

  The loud dance music faded out, replaced by an eighties love song. “Fellas, grab your ladies. It’s couple skate time.” The DJ pointed at Reed from inside the booth.

  Reed rolled his eyes. “I have to do this. One of you girls want to save me from giggling ten-year-olds?”

  “No way am I going out there again.” Kylee swallowed a nacho. “Have Desi do it. She still owes you for saving her life.”

  I shot Kylee a glare. So now she could suddenly talk? The last thing I wanted was to couple skate with Reed. It gave him four minutes to critique my performance at dress rehearsal last night. “I’m not a great skater either.”

  “It’s easy.”

  “Have fun talking!” Kylee held up two chips and smooshed them together like they were kissing. It’d been a while since I’d had a best friend, but this still seemed like a mixed signal. She’d passed me thousands of Kylee <3s Reed notes, and now she was pushing me to couple skate with him?

  We wheeled onto the floor. I kept my arms crossed while Reed held his out. “Uh, we’re supposed to touch. Like we’re dancing. But skating. I’ll be the one going backward. I know it’s lame.”

  I placed my hands lightly on his shoulders. He put his on my waist, but you still could have fit a continent between us. We started moving, not dancing exactly. The silence lasted half a lap around the rink. As much as Reed got to me, the quiet was even worse. “So do you like living in Sproutville?” I finally asked.

  “She speaks!”

  “Funny.”

  “Yeah, I like small towns.” Reed looked down at his skates. “We lived in New York when I was nine, and I hated that.”

  “I thought you were from New Zealand.”

  “I am, but I’ve traveled all over the world. My parents are doing a ten-year study on the effects of air quality on agriculture, so this is my sixth school. Third country.”

  “Did you ever think you’d be working at a roller-skating rink in Idaho?”

  “It’s not the pet store, but the nachos are decent.”

  When I readjusted my hand on his shoulder, he pulled me in closer. Just a bit.

  “How did you know I worked at the pet store?” I asked.

  “Oh, when I uh…helped you out of the dunk tank last summer. Weren’t you doing that for the pet store? And you mentioned it during rehearsals, when I had my donkey head on. Right?”

  “Yeah.” I gave Reed a point for paying attention. So he was listening in between all his staring and directing. “But I quit. I’ve got some other things going on.”

  “Like?”

  I’m a magical princess substitute. You? “I design T-shirts and stuff.”

  A group of girls waved at Reed as they passed us. He graced them with a smile but then turned his attention back to me. We’d done our first lap and the song was about to hit the chorus.

  “Yeah, this job’s just temporary for me,” Reed said.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Don’t laugh, but I really do want to be an actor. Like, live theater.” He shook his head. “Stupid, huh?”

  “No.” The chorus of the song got loud, and we stopped talking for a bit, wheeling around in our rigid positions. I cleared my throat when the music quieted. “And you know you’re a good actor.”

  “Really, you think so?”

  “Reed, you know so.”

  Reed pursed his lips together. “You think I’m bigheaded, don’t you?”

  “Not bigheaded. Donkeyheaded.”

  “Ha-ha.” He moved his hands a little lower on my back. “Here’s the thing: I’m confident about some things, sure. I’ve been acting for a long time, and I’ve had a lot of different roles. So I’d better be good at it by this point.”

  “So you do think you’re good.”

  “Yes! You have to believe in yourself to be great. That’s what I keep trying to tell you. Sometimes, when you say a line, it’s the most genius thing ever. I’m completely convinced that you’re that character, that you understand her. But other times you’re just saying words.”

  “You’re seriously going to start directing me?” I tried to pull my hands away, but Reed tightened his grip.

  “I’m sorry. I’m messing up again, aren’t I?”

  “Whatever. It’s fine.”

  “No, this happened last week and you stopped talking to me. I want things to be right between us.” He looked away for a bit, considering his next words, then looked me right in the eye. “I can tell you’re different, Desi. That’s all. And I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl so…I don’t even know how to describe you. So…special.”

  I almost interrupted him with a joke or a subject change, but he was so earnest, and a part of me—most of me—wanted to hear the rest.

  “I hardly know you, but I kind of feel like, in a weird way, I’ve always known you.” He blushed. “I’m not trying to confess my undying love or anything. I just want you to know where I’m coming from. I see…something, so I might be hard on you because I know there is more there.”

  “Oh. Um…oh.”

  My stomach knotted. Where did that all come from? I’m not different. Sure, I have magical abilities, but in Idaho I was just Desi. I was content with that. So what was Reed seeing that no one else was? He did say one thing right—he didn’t know me.

  And holy roller-skates, what was he doing telling me this stuff?

  “This is the longest song in the history of couple skating,” Reed said. We did one more lap around the rink in silence, and let go quickly when the music ended.

  “Kylee probably ate all the nachos by now,” I said. Kylee was wrong about the fate thing—just because you can’t talk to a guy and he makes you feel sick to your stomach and you don’t act like yourself around him…that doesn’t mean it’s a waste of time. Time is exactly what she needed. And I should have stopped Reed when he was saying all that stuff about me.

  Except…except I didn’t want to. “Thanks. For the dance.”

  “Uh-huh. And, uh, sorry I went off on you like that.” Reed fiddled with his ref whistle. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the play. Don’t break a leg before you break a leg.”

  “I’d say that to you, but you seem to have this figured out.”

  He flicked me one more look. “There’s a lot I don’t have figured out.”

  His shoulder brushed mine as he skated away, leaving a sharp zap of unexplainable electricity.

  Chapter

  16

  When I got to the theater the next night, an hour before curtain, everyone backstage was abuzz with chaotic energy. Mom did my hair and stage makeup at home, so all
I needed was to put my costume on and try to not get stage fright. Try.

  I found a folding chair next to the sound booth. My lines played over and over in my head. I had a nightmare the night before where I’d forgotten the words. No, actually I’d replaced them with things I’d said while on my subbing jobs. Celeste had laughed and Reed threw his head off and stormed off the stage, leaving me alone in the spotlight.

  I shook my head. I didn’t have time to analyze the dream—I needed to mentally prepare myself for this moment, a moment I’d thought about as I’d watched the old screen sirens in my favorite movies. I was a legitimate actress, and unlike when I subbed, people would actually know I was performing. There was no Rouge to cover up a mistake.

  A couple of techies ran past me, both frenzied. “I don’t know where he put his head. If I knew, we wouldn’t be looking for it.”

  “How do you lose a donkey head?”

  “I didn’t lose it. Stop blaming me.”

  “The play starts in thirty minutes.”

  “STOP BLAMING ME!”

  I swallowed a smile. Reed probably hid the head in the dressing room just to mess with the poor girls. Because, really, that head weighed ten pounds. Hard to miss.

  The duffel bag at my feet began to rumble. I zipped it open, but sat back up when I saw my manual light up. Really? Now? We were past the thirty-minute house call. That buzz had better be another BEST instruction and not gig info.

  The manual’s phone vibration grew louder, causing the duffel bag to inch across the floor.

  “Ugh! Be quiet.” I yanked the manual out and clicked on the text.

  Meredith: Be there in two.

  No way. That princess could wait three hours. These people could stop time! Or slow time town—I don’t know how it worked, but whatever was going on at Façade was not as important as my play. Plus, I had to get into character—Titania’s character.

  Before I could even pound a text of protest, Meredith’s bubble popped up.

  “I can’t go now!” I hissed at the bubble.

  The bubble didn’t reply.

  “Can I at least change?”

  Nothing. Not that bubbles talk back, but Meredith could hear me. Her silence said enough. After a minute-long standoff, another text appeared.