by Amanda Heath
Well until I see Royal and that girl Paisley holding hands, while walking down the hallway.
Chapter Twelve
I’m not used to feeling jealous. I haven’t had a time to be jealous. While I was with Trey, I only had eyes for him and he for me. We didn’t fight about other girls or boys. And to my knowledge he never looked at another girl in that way while he was with me.
My parents are rich, whether I like to admit that or not. My mom works to get guilty criminals from having to go to jail. We know what my dad does. So I’ve had whatever I wanted in my life. There was no need to be jealous because I have the same things those around me do. And if I didn’t, then I got it.
So when I saw him walking down the hall holding her hand, I wanted to punch her in the face. It seems since she got here, everyone has put her on a pedestal. Anyone with eyes can see Channing is in love with her. I wouldn’t usually use that word where Channing is involved, but it’s true. His eyes follow her everywhere. His eyes were the first I met after seeing the happy couple.
And he looked destroyed.
My heart lurched for him, only because I know that kind of pain. I might not have watched Trey walk away from me, but I know what it was like to lose someone I truly loved. We nodded at each other and moved on. That’s how Channing is. Something might be bothering him, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He files it away somewhere in his brain and comes back to it later, when it’s easier.
I, on the other hand, can’t do that. I dwelled on it all day long. I don’t even know why I did. Because at the end of the day, I don’t even know what I want. Just this morning I had that dream and everything changed between us. I didn’t mean for it to, but it did. And I thought he was feeling the same, but then I see him with Paisley. So maybe I don’t want to know what he feels. I don’t need any more hurt in my life.
“What do you think all the Gossip Girl characters were doing during The Avengers?” Pierce asks during an episode of GG in the sixth season.
Annabella rolls her eyes and I burst out laughing. “I’m sure Chuck Bass would have everyone locked up in the basement of the Empire,” I explain through my laughter.
Pierce grunts. “Maybe. Ever since he got shot, he’s become a pussy. I miss the guy who would have destroyed Dan Humphrey for what he’s done.”
Annabella and I look at each other and I laugh harder. I even have a few tears leak out of my eyes. “Since when do you care?” Annabella questions, while wiping her fingers under her eyes.
Pierce grunts again. “Well if I want to spend any time with the two of you, then I have to watch this shit. I’m so glad it’s almost over.” He groans before dropping his hand into the bag of popcorn in his lap. He looks overly relaxed sitting on my couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table.
We’ve spent the past two weeks watching Gossip Girl. There are six seasons and thankfully, for Pierce’s sake, we are finally at the last episodes. “You know, Chuck Bass reminds me of Channing,” Annabella says, looking at Pierce for his reaction.
He just shakes his head, laughter in his eyes. “They have that same brooding bad boy shit going on. But Ella, you’re more like his personality.”
I pick up a throw pillow and bury my face in it to cover my laughter. “You dickhole!” Annabella shouts, smacking him on the arm. “It’s not funny, Wes! I do not act like that.”
I look up from my pillow, my tummy hurting from all the laughter and say, “He’s so right! You would manipulate whoever you want for whatever you want.” She once talked an older classman out of his bottle of vodka at a party, just so she could keep this girl drunk. The girl happened to be whom Donovan was crushing on at the time. Needless to say, Annabella went home with Donovan that night. They’ve been together ever since.
“Well, I am Blair,” she says snottily and Pierce and I snort.
Then it occurs to me, “Then you’re perfect for Channing!” and start laughing again.
Pierce even bursts out laughing. This is so strange that Annabella and I stare wide eyes at him until he stops. “What?” he asks breathless.
I lift an eyebrow. “You really thought that was funny.” I bite my lip, waiting to see if he’ll say anything.
He shrugs, “Annabella would stomp all over Channing. And the look on her face was worth the horrible mental image.” Then he grins. My heartstrings tug and I blow him a kiss. Maybe he’ll grow up this year, instead of keeping this stupid war with Channing. Not that you can even call it a war, since they don’t battle.
My phone, which is shoved under my pillow on the floor, starts playing “Wreck Me” by Miley Cyrus. I instantly blush. That’s Royal’s ringtone. Pierce and Annabella start up a conversation before I even bring the phone out. “Hello?”
I haven’t spoken to Royal in two weeks. Ever since I saw him with Paisley, I haven’t really wanted to speak to him. And why would I? It only lasted a week, and I wouldn’t want that to happen to me.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” he breathes into the phone. His voice sounds off.
“Are you okay?” I ask, walking into the kitchen so Annabella and Pierce don’t overhear me.
He sighs and I hear a scratching noise. “Will you come out to the backyard? I see Pierce’s car in the driveway and I’m tired of waiting for them to leave.
My heart starts beating wildly and my palms get sweaty. “I don’t really feel like it. Can we do this another time?” I squeak.
He sighs again. “Just come outside, dammit! You’ve been with those two for two weeks straight! You won’t answer my texts. I haven’t tried to call, but that’s because I figured if you hit ignore I’d lose a lot of my pride,” he rambles.
“Are…” No, no he cant be! “Are you nervous right now?” I mumble not believing my ears.
My hand lands on the countertop to brace me. What he has to say is enough to knock me over. “God dammit! Just come out here! I haven’t seen you up close in over two weeks and it’s killing me! I don’t even know what’s going on right now. I haven’t tried to hit on you. I haven’t come on to you. Hell girl, I haven’t even kissed you!”
“I-I’ll…” I stammer out. What do I even say to that? “I’ll be right there.” And then I open my back door and walk out into the night.
He stands twenty yards away, with his hands in his pockets. My breathing hasn’t slowed down but I don’t expect it to. This is what he’s done to me every time I’ve seen him in the past two weeks. I don’t know whether to slap him or run into his arms. I slow down once I am almost there.
He looks lost and I don’t know what to do with that. Did I do that? How could I have done that? “Wes…” he whispers, locking eyes with me.
His stare is almost too powerful. I want to break it but I don’t. “What are you doing here?” I cross my arms over my chest and finally look away from him.
“I just wanted to see you. I wanted to know you’re alright,” he says, shifting his feet around.
I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere else. Somewhere that Royal doesn’t exist and I can stay in my bubble with Trey. I feel Trey all around me. His presence feels nice, like he’s happy but I don’t know why he would be happy right now. I know he would go away if anything ever happened with Royal. He wouldn’t be able to watch that. “I’m perfectly fine.”
He laughs, but it’s hollow. “See, I don’t believe you. You’re scaring the shit out of me. You can’t even imagine how worried I’ve been.” He moves closer but I move back, keeping the same distance between us.
“You have no reason to be worried. I’m perfectly fine. I even eat now, in case you were wondering,” I smart off to him. I flinch at myself. Why am I being mean to him?
His eyes cloud over, with what, I don’t know. “You have turned into one of my best friends. And I don’t even know how that happened considering we don’t really talk about anything. But that’s what makes us, us. You need me to be there, and I like being there for you. I’m used to talking to you every day. And now it’s been two weeks. Two fu
cking weeks of radio silence.” He crosses over to me, getting right into my space before I can get away. “You. Are. Fucking. With. My. Head,” he spits out slowly.
I huff. “How am I fucking with your head? You have to talk to someone to do that.” But I know better. I know I’m fucking with his head. Because I’m a fucked up person. I won’t even admit to myself that I want him, yet I don’t because it means the end to something I hold dear. I refuse to let go of Trey completely. If I have anything with Royal, I know I’ll have to let Trey go.
He swears under his breath, “Wes, I don’t know what you want me to say here.” Royal’s voice is broken. Maybe he is broken. Maybe I broke him. Lord knows I’m broken myself.
“Don’t say anything,” I start off with. There are so many things I want to tell him. The one thing I want him to know, that I want him, I will never say aloud. “When push comes to shove Royal, you’ll break me. I’d never be the same after you. I’d be a shell of this girl.”
His face pales but he doesn’t step away. Something I had planned on. His hands caress my face before he says, “You have that wrong, Wesley. You’ll be the one to break me.”
I let out a shocked noise, like the air can’t escape my throat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t break anyone,” I mutter.
He shakes his head, moving his hands down my arms. His green t-shirt brushes against my breasts and I shiver. “What you’re doing right now, that’s breaking me. You won’t let something go. I don’t know why, and maybe I shouldn’t push you. And we both know what I’m talking about.” He frowns when I feel a tear slip out. Always with the crying! “I don’t want to hurt you either, Wes. I just want you to try. Try for me.”
“I don’t need to try anything. There’s nothing to try!” I cry out, frustrated. Why am I lying through my teeth? It’s all lies. Why am I so scared?
He closes his eyes, and takes a step back. Then he lets me have it. “You want to talk about me making you a shell of this girl?” he waves his hand up and down my body. “You’re already a shell. You’ve been a shell for the past eight months. You’re going to be a shell until you learn to move on. It’s really hard for me to watch you do this to yourself. I care about you so much. I want to be in your life. I want to be there for you, but you make it so hard. You run away when things start to change and I get that. I do. But right now, you’re giving up on our friendship and I won’t let you do that. I won’t ever give it up, because some days, it’s all I have.” Tears shine through his brown eyes. They look almost dead. That scares the everloving shit out of me. My Royal doesn’t have dead eyes. He’s alive, vibrant, and free.
“What does that even mean!” I scream out my question. I know it might be too late, but I pull his arm over to the bushes so if Pierce or Annabella look outside they won’t see.
He shrugs and looks over my fence. I hear a radio and I assume his car is parked close. “My mom and dad, they aren’t ever around. They’ve never been around. Now Rachel’s not even coming home. Our house is so empty and I’m alone all the time. Do you know how that feels? It scares me.” He wipes his nose on his shirtsleeve and keeps going. “Now Channing is all about Paisley. So he’s pissed about me dating her, but it was all a game. He can’t even see that she never wanted me. She wants him, but I’m the one to blame. My best friend turned his back on me for some girl. Granted she might be the love of his life, but I didn’t touch her. And he won’t believe me.”
Some part of me knew this was where it was going. That’s fate for you. He was there for me when I couldn’t count on anyone else. So I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on for dear life. If he ever stumbled or fell, I don’t know what I would do. He’s supposed to be my lifeline, yet I haven’t been taking care of him. “I’m sorry, Royal. So sorry. I’ll be here for you, always.”
I leave him there sitting on my grass. I go inside and ask Pierce and Annabella to leave. I just tell them I have homework to do and I’m super tired. They leave without a fight.
I go back outside and I pick him up off the ground. I grab his hand and pull him toward my house. Bentley comes down the back stairs as I enter, Royal in tow. He looks at me, then Royal and shakes his head. Then he goes to the fridge. I pull Royal up the stairs and to my room. I lay him down on my bed and kiss his cheek.
I run outside and find his car parked right next to my fence. I drive it to the guesthouse and park it in the garage there. That way my parents won’t see it. Then I go to my parent’s room, kiss both of them and say goodnight.
By the time I get back to my room, Royal’s asleep. His beautiful face is relaxed and I find peace in that. He’s happier in his dreams anyway. Maybe he’s having sex with me in there. I find I don’t mind. If that makes him happy, then it makes me happy.
I take his shoes off before I shut off the lights. Then I climb in beside him and play my iPod softly knowing I’ll not fall asleep for awhile. The first song that comes on is “Stay” by Rihanna. I lay on my back for half the song but then I roll to my side and throw my arm around Royal’s waist.
I whisper into his ear the lyrics. He needed saving tonight but I’m the one whose broken. And it is funny, how this song fits us. That’s the wonderful thing about music. There is always a song out there to fit what you’re going through.
And it scares me to know that I’m the broken one and Royal needs the saving.
Chapter Thirteen
After that night, everything changed. I’ll start with the next morning though. I thought it might be weird, waking up next to Royal and not running out the door. When my eyes first opened, his arm was thrown over my waist. I could feel his breath on my neck and I remember thinking it was okay if he was that close to me. I kind of liked it. Okay, I really liked it.
Then Bentley came crashing into my room. Royal and I both shot up in my bed and gave him horrified looks, where Bentley proceeded to laugh his butt off. “Oh my god, you should see your faces!” he laughed.
I threw my pillow at him, hitting him in the face. “You’re a butthead, Bentley!” I screamed, about to get off the bed and hit him with my fist.
He waved his hand before I could though. “Well since neither of you were up I thought I’d better come and wake you. Mom left ten minutes ago and dad got called out in the middle of the night.” Then he left my room, still laughing.
Royal chuckled and I turned to scowl at him. “Don’t encourage him! The little shit,” I huff. I see we have reverted to the immature little brother/older sister role.
Royal stood up and stretched, his shirt rising above his belly button. I remember gulping at the smooth golden skin it exposed. “I’ve got to get going, Duchess.” He bent at the waist and kissed my cheek. “Always a pleasure waking up next to you,” he whispered, his lips lingering at my skin.
Then he left and I haven’t been the same since. It’s only been a few days, but that change is cemented inside of me. My body wants Royal, but my heart and head are fighting to stay away. That’s a strange thing to go through, by the way. My feet and my hands head toward Royal but my torso and head go the opposite direction.
Royal stayed Monday night, and today is Wednesday, one of our tutor days. Still at war with myself, I made him meet me at the library. There are no beds here and he should stay completely clothed. The boy likes to take his shirt off way too much. And it’s freaking October, and cold! When he used to do it before I had my dream, I didn’t really react, but now, I start drooling.
One insanely gorgeous boy and I lose all the intelligence I’ve had since I was born.
“So it wasn’t Christopher Columbus who discovered America?” Royal asks me, looking up from his World History book. His eyes narrow like I’m messing around with him.
I shake my head. “In 1963 they found evidence of a Viking Colony in Canada. They were here five hundred years before Columbus. He can be credited with the European discovery, but no, he wasn’t the first one here. In fact, The Americas are named after Amerigo Vespucci, who was the f
irst to say The Americas were a completely different continent than Asia, which is what everyone thought before. So Columbus wasn’t truly looking for a new place, he was looking for a new way to India. That’s why our Indians are called Indians.”
His eyes glaze over, which is typical when I start rambling on about random facts and whatnot. “I can’t believe you can hold that much information in your tiny head.” He gives me a lopsided smile and I kind of want to fall out of my seat.
I shrug my shoulders instead. “That’s nothing. You wouldn’t believe the information I have on the Regency Era. I’m totally obsessed with that time in history.”
He laughs and moves his seat closer to mine. He’s started doing that a lot lately. Moving closer to me. Plus, he always ends up touching me in some way. A hand on my shoulder, pressing his arm against mine, and putting his hands on my hips to move me out of the way. But my favorite has to be when he kisses my cheek when he says goodbye. His lips are incredibly soft and they always linger like he’s taking my scent in. I have to force my face forward so I won’t turn and meet his lips with mine.
“I know. You’ve told me this before, remember?” His voice is soft and his eyes are peeking at me from under his lashes.
I laugh this time. “Probably. I’m sure I talk about it more than I should.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t really talk about it at all. I just remember you saying something, plus the time you came to school dressed like a duchess for Halloween.”
My mouth drops open. “You remember that?” I question.
He smiles at me and leans back in his chair. “Yeah, what? Were we in the sixth grade? You had your hair in that crazy up do. Then that dress. You truly looked like royalty. I was in awe of you.”
I told my mom that year I wanted to be a duchess. So she delivered. She found me a beautiful dress at a costume shop. It was white with roses sewn into the skirt. The bodice was high, but that was proper considering I was in the sixth grade. The skirt was huge and flared out. I had to hold my hands out so I wouldn’t lose them in the massive skirt. Mom had this romance novel with a woman on the front, her hair up and fancy. So I pointed it out and we took it to her hairdresser. They did my hair exactly like that woman’s and my outfit was complete.
